Free The Killing Edge by Heather Graham Page B

desk. He wasn’t sure why he had such a fascination with Chloe’s ten-year-old horror. He had a job to do, two cases to work, and he didn’t see how the dinner was going to get him any closer to finding out the truth behind Colleen Rodriguez’s disappearance, but he had to eat—and he couldn’t fight the desire to know more about Chloe Marin.
    He searched until he was able to go back ten years, then made a list of known members of the cult at the time of the murders, but nothing he tried got him to a site where he could find a list of current members. In fact, for the five years following the massacre, the church hadn’t kept any kind of a Web site at all. Now, however, the Church of the Real People had been revived.
    As he contemplated that, he heard a car coming down the path. He closed the page and went topside.
    He didn’t need to go see Stuckey. Stuckey was coming to see him.
    “You busy?” the cop asked.
    Shirtless, barefoot and in swim trunks, his hands on his hips, Luke said, “I think I can spare a few minutes.”
    Stuckey hopped down onto the boat, wiping his hand across his brow. “Hot out here today, huh?”
    “The cabin is air-conditioned,” Luke said.
    “You could just live in a house, like normal people do,” Stuckey told him.
    “I could. But I like the boat. I can leave without packing whenever I get the urge.”
    Shaking his head, Stuckey ducked and went down the steps to the cabin, heading straight to the refrigerator, helping himself to a beer before flopping down on the sofa. Officially, Sunday was his day off. Unofficially, he was a workaholic and used the weekends for the cases that weren’t technically his to solve.
    “I got a present this morning,” Stuckey told him.
    “Oh?”
    “A food basket. Rene Gonzalez’s folks sent it. They think you can save Rene, and they wanted to thank me for sending them to you.”
    “So you got the food basket and I got nothing?” Luke said, then helped himself to a beer as well, and sat down across from Stuckey.
    “Can you really do anything?” Stuckey asked him. “Is she even in danger? None of us believe Colleen just disappeared, but we can’t prove any differently. So maybe we’re wrong. Maybe it’s a publicity stunt.”
    “A six-month publicity stunt?” Luke asked.
    “Right. I know. And not that it would change anything where Rene is concerned. She’s hell-bent on going out to that island.”
    “And she’s over twenty-one, so if she wants to go, she can.”
    “And that leads me to my point. She will go on the photo shoot, but so will you.”
    “So far, so good,” Luke said. “As long as Miss Marin doesn’t give me away.”
    “Chloe Marin is as solid as the day is long,” Stuckey assured him.
    “Yeah, I’ve been reading up about her. Why the hell didn’t you tell me who I was dealing with?” Luke demanded, shaking his head. “That she survived a massacre like that? The kind of work she does? That she’s not just some wannabe?”
    “You know, in hindsight, I should have told you about her and what she was doing at the mansion for us. She was raised by her uncle—A.D.A. Leo Marin—so she learned a lot from him, and she comes in when we need her to sketch for us. It started the night of the massacre. She drew a likeness that helped us identify one of the cult members found dead in the Everglades.
    “She has something that’s close to a photographic memory, and an eye for detail.” He shook his head. “The night of the massacre… I can only imagine the terror. Chloe got Victoria out of there, and Brad and Jared were there and survived, too. The four of them have been close ever since, but it changed their lives in ways I don’t think they’ll ever completely get over. Victoria could have done a dozen fashion shoots in Paris, but she didn’t accept. You know why?She works down here because she can be with her friends. Not one of them has ever formed a serious romantic relationship. They pretty much lose themselves