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Authors: Carolyn Hart

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“From that decision flowed Iris's murder”—Emma's indictment was inexorable—“the attempt to kill Annie and Max, and Darlene's murder. All of you know some part of what happened ten years ago. Tonight the innocent will have an opportunity to speak out and bring an end to a desperate murderer who lashes out at any perceived threat.” Emma looked at each of the five in turn. “If you are reluctant to reveal what you know, understand that no one is safe until Jocelyn's killer is found.”

Cara shivered. She gave a soft cry of distress. She looked shrunken, as if her black silk jacket was too large.

Buck's turn toward her was immediate. And immediately halted.

Fran's eyes were dark. A muscle flickered in her slender throat.

Buck hunched his shoulders and again stared down at the floor.

Emma was crisp. “Annie will share newly discovered information that tells us a great deal about Jocelyn's last night.”

Annie clasped her hands together. She was aware of anger and fear. She felt her own wash of fear. Billy had warned them.
Don't taunt a tiger.
What choice did they have? She took a breath and spoke, trying to keep her voice steady. “Everything goes back to the sports picnic ten years ago. You were close friends.” Annie looked at each in turn. “Liz. Russell. Fran. Buck. Cara.” She took another breath. “And Sam and Jocelyn. Darlene Hopper was in your class. None of you had anything to do with her. Except Jocelyn. Jocelyn was nice to Darlene. Darlene loved
Jocelyn. I talked to Darlene yesterday.” Yesterday Darlene had been alive.

Annie looked from face to face, Fran wary, Buck grim, Liz angry, Russell bleak, Cara frightened. To some who listened, the revelations would be shocking. Others knew only too well. Yesterday in the alley, sullen Darlene had shed her toughness, her loneliness. Long-ago passions had awakened. She set out to avenge Jocelyn's death, but she'd run to meet her own. “At the sports picnic, Russell made every effort to avoid Jocelyn. Darlene said Russell looked mean.”

Russell's hard face revealed nothing. His steady gaze never wavered.

Liz's eyes glittered with anger. “Russell didn't look mean. He was upset. His best friend was dead.”

“Darlene told me.” Annie's voice was sad. “Darlene said Jocelyn came up behind Russell, caught his arm. She was crying.”

“Of course she was crying.” Liz's voice was harsh. “Her brother was dead, you fool.”

Annie shut out Liz's voice, but she couldn't escape Russell's anguished eyes. “Darlene followed Jocelyn and Russell when they left the pavilion. They went on the path toward the woods. When they were far enough from the pavilion not to be heard, Jocelyn told Russell she needed help. Russell said he couldn't do anything. She grabbed his arm and said, ‘I'm not talking about the baby.'”

Cara's lips parted in an
O
of surprise. Liz's pale face flushed. She sat rigid as stone. Russell folded his arms, appearing massive and immovable. He did not look toward his wife. Buck's eyes widened. Fran watched warily, turning the thin silver bracelets on her wrist.

“Darlene cried out in shock.” Annie wondered if they could hear that piteous cry in their hearts. “Jocelyn saw her and screamed at her to go away. Darlene ran. That was the last time Darlene saw Jocelyn.”

Annie looked at Russell with grave, questioning eyes.

Russell said nothing. His face was empty, defeated.

Liz turned to him, clutched at his arm. “Tell them what happened.”

Russell jerked toward her in surprise.

Liz's voice was sharp. “Tell them, Russell.”

Russell tried to speak, stopped. His face crumpled.

Liz struggled to control her breathing. She was dangerously flushed. “I went after Russell when I saw Jocelyn pulling him into the fog. Darlene was ahead of me. I stayed off the path. No one heard me. I heard every word. When Darlene ran away, I came nearer. Jocelyn didn't ask Russell for help for the baby.”

Russell turned a tear-streaked face to his wife. “You knew? You've known all these years?”

She took his big hand, held it tight. Her face was open and vulnerable. “I've always known.”

His voice was uneven. “You don't despise me?”

“Oh God, honey. You were only a boy. I don't know what you should have done. That night I hated her. I wanted her dead.”

The words hung in the silent pavilion.

Emma's blue eyes were cold. “She died.”

Liz shuddered. “I didn't kill her. I know Russell didn't. His dad…Russell couldn't have gone to The Citadel. It was his dad's dream. Maybe Jocelyn could have had the baby, put it up for adoption. I don't know. All I know is that Russell didn't go into the woods with Jocelyn. Tell them, Russell.”

With Liz's hand in his, Russell spoke in short, harsh bursts. “I've gone over that night in my mind. A million times. I let Jocelyn down. I should have stood by her. She and I weren't right for each other. I'd already realized it was Liz I wanted, but I should have stood by Jocelyn. I don't think she wanted to marry me. She had plans, too. I don't know what she would have done, but she didn't come to me because of the baby. She wanted help because of the note. She found a note in Sam's letter jacket. He wore the jacket the night he died. The note was dated Friday. The message was brief: Pick me up at midnight at the foot of the drive. It was signed by Buck. The last Friday Sam wore the jacket was the night he died, a week before the picnic. Jocelyn wanted me to come with her to confront Buck. I told Jocelyn it didn't matter if Buck was with Sam that night. Buck didn't snort cocaine for him. I asked Jocelyn to drop it.” He took a deep breath. “She wouldn't agree. I told her I wasn't going to go after Buck. She said she'd go by herself.”

Fran came to her feet. “You aren't going to make Buck the fall guy. Buck may have known something about Sam's death, but he wasn't the father of a baby no one wanted.” Resentment burned in every word.

Liz was implacable. “Jocelyn left Russell and went to find Buck.”

Fran flung out her hands, her bracelets jangling. Her ravaged face twisted in anger. “You and Russell have had plenty of time to invent whatever you please. Ten years of time. The baby would be pretty big by now. Ten years old. But daddy wouldn't be a Citadel man, would he?”

Russell rubbed at reddened eyes. “Shut up, Fran.”

“Ten years old…” Fran's voice wavered. She began to cry. “Oh God, I'm sorry.”

“You think you're sorry.” Russell's voice was unsteady. “How do you think I feel? All these years I thought Jocelyn jumped off the pier. But now…” He looked toward Buck.

“I didn't hurt Jocelyn.” Buck's big open face looked haunted. “She told me she asked Russell for help and he refused. She and I went into the woods, but Jocelyn wasn't scared of me. She was furious. I told her to let it go, that Sam was dead, that nothing would bring him back, to let him rest in peace.” Buck's hands opened and closed, opened and closed. “I wish to God I could rest in peace. I've kept that night when Sam died a secret for ten years. I've always felt sick and ashamed. I'm tired of feeling like a coward. Oh hell, I was a coward. My dad would have kicked me out. I guess I could have gone to jail. I don't know. I would have been in big trouble. I tried to make Jocelyn understand. I couldn't have helped Sam.” He came to a full stop, swallowed hard. “But I left him there, dead in the forest preserve.”

Max's tone was sharp. “Did Sam pick you up at midnight?”

Buck avoided looking at Max. “I had a midnight curfew. There was an old live oak near my window and I used to climb down and meet Sam at the foot of the drive. My folks went to bed at ten. They never knew. That night was like any other. Sam was in a great mood. When I first started sneaking out, we'd take a couple of six-packs to the forest preserve and drink and think we were studs. Pretty soon Sam started bringing whiskey. He had no trouble getting bourbon at his place. His mom never knew how much she had, she just bought more. Then Sam started snorting cocaine. I never did. He ragged me, told me I was chicken. I told him I liked bourbon better. That Friday night we went to a clearing in the preserve like we always did. We got out of the car. I was pouring some bourbon into a plastic glass. I heard a choking sound and looked up. Sam was shaking
and then he fell face forward. I rolled him over.” Buck looked sick. “He was dead.” He looked up in appeal. “Even if I'd called nine-one-one, it was too late. He was dead. I tried pushing on his chest. Maybe I didn't do it right, but it didn't matter. Nothing helped.”

Emma cleared her throat. “What did Jocelyn threaten to do?”

Buck looked hapless. “She was going to tell the police. I don't know what they would have done. My dad would have kicked me out. Conduct unbecoming a gentleman.” His tone put the stiff words in quote marks, as if he'd heard them and hated them for many years. “I told Jocelyn it wasn't my fault. Sam got the cocaine from Iris. Jocelyn said it didn't matter how Sam got cocaine, I shouldn't have gone off and left him like a dog that had been hit by a car. Yeah, that's what I did. I was scared. I know that's no excuse. But I couldn't have saved him. He was dead, lying there in the moonlight, his face like marble.” He shuddered. “It happened so fast, he was laughing and swaggering like he always did, and then he died.”

Emma was blunt. “You were in the woods alone with Jocelyn. You were desperate to keep Jocelyn quiet.”

Buck straightened, his broad face earnest. “I didn't hurt Jocelyn. I swear I didn't. When she wouldn't listen, I didn't know what was going to happen. But there was nothing I could do. I left her there in the woods and went back to the picnic. Coach Butterworth asked me what was going on and I told him Jocelyn was upset about Sam. I thought he'd probably go and see and then I'd be done for. Instead he turned and went back to the picnic grounds. I told Jodie I was feeling sick and wasn't going to stay for the awards. She was getting a letter in swimming. She said a friend would bring her home. Mom and Dad were in Atlanta. I went to the parking lot behind the pavilion and got my
car and went home. I sat up all night in my room in the dark, looking out the window, waiting for car lights to turn into the drive. I thought the police would come and get me.”

Max's face was sad. “Did Iris see you walk into the woods with Jocelyn?”

Buck turned strained eyes to Max. “I don't know. But I never hurt Iris. Or Darlene.”

Cara stood and stepped toward them. “Buck is telling the truth.” Her voice was steady, weary. She glanced toward Liz. “I guess Liz and I wore our hearts on our sleeves back then. It paid off for Liz.” Cara's angular face was passionless, as if she spoke of times so distant they didn't matter. “Liz followed Russell and Jocelyn. I followed Jocelyn and Buck. Buck told you the truth. He ran back toward the picnic grounds.”

Annie looked at Cara and felt cold. When Iris came back to the island, Cara visited her at Nightingale Courts. Had Cara been summoned because she was the last person to be with Jocelyn? But how would Iris have known?

Cara ran nervous fingers through her tousled short curls. “I talked to Jocelyn.”

Was there a ripple of fear in the pavilion?

Annie looked quickly from face to face. All of them bore signs of strain and despair and regret. Fran's cheekbones jutted. Her eyes locked on Cara's face. Buck's shoulders slumped. His expression was a mixture of misery and shame. Liz clung to Russell's arm, ready to defend him. Russell had an air of exhaustion, a man nearing the end of his endurance.

Cara spoke softly. “I begged Jocelyn not to tell on Buck. I told her how he'd grieved for Sam.” Cara looked at Buck. “Buck was sick at heart. But Jocelyn…” Cara shivered. “She was angry, white hot with anger, like a fiery sword. I've always
thought how sad that she died being angry. Anger sucks out your soul. I was angry when Melissa died, angry at the emptiness of my world, angry for the years she didn't have, angry at her father for running away. I had to root out the anger or it would have killed me. But Jocelyn was set on vengeance. She told me it didn't matter if Buck was sorry. Being sorry wasn't enough. She was going to talk to Iris and then she was going to go to the police.”

Cara pulled her sweater closer. “That's the last time I saw her. She left me there and ran back toward the picnic to find Iris. I walked to the boardwalk and went home.” In the silence, she said abruptly, “I didn't walk to the pier with Jocelyn and push her in the water. When Iris came back to the island, she called and asked me to come and see her at Nightingale Courts. I went there and we talked. I told her all that I knew. I told her that Buck left Jocelyn alive and I left her alive.”

No one moved or spoke. The silence pulsed with anger, hurt, sadness, and despair. Liz's creamy complexion was tinged by gray. Russell slumped like a man who'd run too far and too fast. Fran's cheekbones were hard and sharp, her eyes brilliant. Buck looked diminished. Cara moved uneasily like a horse scenting danger.

Annie felt sickening disappointment. Even if every word they'd heard was true, there was not to be an answer. Iris had admitted that she told Jocelyn the name of the drug supplier. Any of the haunted faces there in the pavilion could have been the shadowy unseen figure who provided cocaine to Iris. Jocelyn may have died because she confronted that hidden dealer of death. But drugs might not be the reason Jocelyn's life ended in cold seawater. She may have died to hide Buck's presence in the forest preserve. She may have died because Russell was deter
mined to escape responsibility for an unwanted baby. She may have died because Liz was possessed by jealousy. She may have died because Cara was determined to protect Buck.

Fran jumped up. “This is intolerable.” Her voice was high and fast. “Buck and I have nothing to do with this. We don't know what happened.” She bolted forward.

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