Free Cold Fear by Toni Anderson

of her, but the teen took it as her right. She had no idea how fortunate she was.
    “I’m ready if you still want to go for that walk.” Impatience leaked into her tone.
    He raised his brows, but she didn’t seem to notice. He bet the good doctor would have preferred another tour of duty to raising a seventeen-year-old. Respect for the woman went up another notch.
    Kit headed for the French doors without bothering with a leash or a key. She let the dog out and then went outside onto the deck, leaving the place wide open.
    “You might want to start locking up around here,” he suggested, trying to keep his own tone mild.
    Her eyes popped wide as they swung to his. “You don’t think the killer is still around, do you?”
    No one ever wanted to believe a killer was a member of their community, or someone they knew. Stranger danger was a lot easier to live with and in reality accounted for a very small proportion of murder cases. “Until the cops have him in custody I’d err on the side of caution.”
    She still didn’t bother to lock the door. At his pointed look she pulled a face. “Izzy’s just next door.” Then she headed down the wooden steps.
    He frowned. “So the killer gets to attack her first?”
    The girl gave a rude laugh. “The guy would be an idiot to go after Izzy. She’d kick his ass.”
    Was she really that dumb, or this callous? “I’m sure Jesse Tyson felt the same way.”
    Her lower jaw dropped at his words and then her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. Frazer waved her ahead, trying to mask his impatience. The dog ran on, sniffing the grass. The tide was way out and birds poked and prodded the sand for worms with their sharp thin beaks as dusk began to settle.
    “What can you tell me about last night?” he asked.
    Kit’s gaze went beyond him to the beach house.
    Frazer glanced over his shoulder, but no one was visible. He frowned. “I’m only interested in finding the person who killed Helena. I’m not going to tell your sister anything you confide.” He remembered his time at high school. All he’d cared about was getting the best grades and not getting kicked out so he could get a scholarship to go to college. Nothing else had mattered.
    Somehow he didn’t think that was Kit’s version of high school.
    “What do you want to know?” The girl huffed and strode away from the cottage. With the tide out they could walk around to the next beach without getting their feet wet.
    “You told your sister you were staying at Helena’s house last night?” he pressed. He’d had an easier time interviewing psychopaths.
    The girl nodded and finally started talking. “Helena wanted to go to Franky Cirencester’s party. Jesse had asked her out—which was huge for Helena because she’s been crushing on him for months.” She covered her face with her hands and started crying. “I can’t believe what happened. I keep expecting her to call me and tell me about her date. It’s like something out of a horror movie.”
    Except Helena wouldn’t stand up at the end of the scene. She’d never take another breath. She was dead. No acting. No retakes.
    “This was their first date?”
    She nodded.
    “Jesse is popular in high school?”
    Kit nodded again.
    “Helena wasn’t?” His use of the past tense brought more tears.
    “Please, God, let this be an awful mistake.” She gulped and started to hyperventilate.
    Her pain made his stomach twist. A small part of him knew he should comfort her, but that wasn’t the way he operated. Distance was his thing. For good reason. It helped him see the whole picture. “Put your cupped hands over your mouth and try to breathe slowly,” he instructed. If her sister collapsed, Isadora Campbell would probably string him up by his balls.
    Kit got herself back under control with a few slow deep breaths. “Helena wasn’t one of the popular kids. She was smart and pretty and too damn nice to be one of the bitchfest crowd.”
    His eyes narrowed. Was