Free Hush by Nancy Bush Page A

look at Coby and instantly headed her way. She still wore her hair in a ponytail, but her face had grown thinner over the years. She was also wearing jeans, which made Coby feel instantly better.

    ―Hey,‖ Yvette greeted her, sizing her up. She was a little taller than Annette, a little more voluptuous, and there was a line drawn between her eyes, as if she spent a lot of time scowling.

    ―Hi, Yvette.‖ Coby greeted her with another forced smile. They‘d never been close friends, and that last year of high school had been difficult. No one knew whether to be happy for Yvette and her pregnancy, and Yvette wasn‘t one to let anyone be close to her.

    ―You want to meet my son?‖ Yvette said now. Then, ―Benedict, get over here.‖ Dutifully the boy walked over to stand in front of his mother and stare at Coby with a certain amount of suspicion. His eyes were big and round like Yvette‘s but more hazel than brown. His skin was lighter and his hair was medium brown. Coby found herself trying to see Lucas Moore in him, but it was impossible to say.

    ―This is Uncle Dave‘s daughter Coby. She and I used to be friends . . . sort of,‖ Yvette said.

    ―Hi,‖ Benedict said, sticking out his hand.

    Coby bent down and shook it. ―Hi, yourself.‖

    ―He‘s not,‖ Yvette said in an expressionless voice.

    ―What?‖ Coby looked at her as she straightened and Benedict walked away to plop himself in front of the television.

    ―He‘s not Lucas‘s.‖

    Yvette was nothing if not direct. ―I didn‘t say he was,‖ Coby pointed out.

    ―I read your mind.‖ Her smile was cool. ―It‘s what you thought. It‘s what you all thought senior year. Probably still do.‖

    ―Well . . . yeah . . . I suppose you‘re right.‖ This was the kind of thing Coby wanted to avoid. Exactly this. She‘d known it was going to be tough seeing Annette and her father fawn all over each other, but she really hadn‘t wanted to relive the night Lucas died with her old classmates, and yet, here it was.

    Yvette was challenging her, and Coby did not want to be challenged.

    With a glance toward Benedict, who was absorbed in a video game on the TV, Coby moved closer to Yvette and said in an undertone, ―You told us the day we found Lucas that you and he were an item. That he wasn‘t into Rhiannon and he never had been. That you and he were together, in love, secret boyfriend and girlfriend. You made a point of it. So, yeah, we got the impression Benedict might be Lucas‘s, but you gave that impression to us. On purpose, I might add. Loudly and insistently.‖

    ―Whoa.‖ Yvette‘s brows lifted in surprise. She clearly hadn‘t expected Coby to be so forthright.

    ―Yeah.‖ Coby left her then, clomping across the wood floor in her cowboy boots back toward the kitchen. She was irked and angry. Yvette was just one of those people who liked to be a pain in the ass, and Coby, with a glance outside at the bad weather, thought she might like to spend the night at the beach after all, maybe book a hotel in Cannon Beach or Tillamook, becaus e as the night wore on she sure as hell felt like getting drunk.

Chapter 4
    If there was one thing Danner Lockwood hated above all else, it was small talk.

    Small. Talk.

    All right. That was a bit of hyperbole. There were far, far worse things in this world he hated more. Things worthy of serious hate. Like intent to cause pain, killing for personal gain, abuse of the weak and dependent. He‘d seen more than his share of all of that.

    But he did hate small talk. Hated listening to it. Hated acting like he knew how to respond to it. Hated being polite.

    What he‘d like right now was to be having a beer with his homicide partner, Detective Elaine Metzger, mid-forties or fifties, built like a tank, language as salty as the briny sea. Elaine made all the crap of the job seem insignificant. She had gallows humor that kept the worst parts of being a cop bearable and made the best parts enjoyable.