Gone to Her Grave (Rogue River Novella Book 2) by Melinda Leigh Read Free Book Online Page B

sweet, but I’ll pass. I’m on call. Can you take this to the kitchen?” Carly handed him the bag from Nell’s.
    He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Nell’s fried chicken?”
    “You bet.”
    “It’ll be just as good cold tonight.” But he fished a leg out of the bag and bit into it as he turned toward the back door.
    Carly stepped off the porch onto the back lawn. “I’ll go put on my suit. Thank goodness Brianna has a fun uncle.”
    Bruce laughed and waved toward the cabin with the chicken leg. “I’ll bring the Jeep around to the cabin.”
    Twenty minutes later they parked on the road and walked past the unenforced No Swimming sign. The cops patrolled at night, mostly to run off underage drinkers, but the small police force had bigger problems than locals taking an unauthorized swim.
    They threw their towels down on the dirt beach. A few teens had come early to beat the heat, though they hadn’t broken out the alcohol yet. They’d wait until dark. An older boy swung out over the lake on a rope. He let go and folded his long body into a cannonball before hitting the water with a huge splash. Two more kids waited for their turn on the rope.
    The beach was tucked back in the woods and out of the way of normal traffic. Carly considered how many times she and Stevie had sneaked beers at the lake in high school.
    Bruce grabbed a giggling Brianna, tucked her under his arm like a football, and raced for the water. He splashed waist-deep and tossed her out over the lake. Delighted squeals floated back to the beach. Carly followed, stopping when the water reached her thighs. Despite the hot temperatures of this summer, the river-fed lake never got truly warm. She dunked her shoulders. The cool water refreshed, washing away the day’s sweat.
    Standing, she turned to keep Bruce and Brianna in sight while she scanned the beach. Three teenage boys were roughhousing in the shallows. A group of high school girls had arrived and stood ankle-deep in tiny string bikinis pretending they were ignoring the boys vying for their attention. Another group of kids spilled onto the beach. Tonight was going to be busy.
    Carly edged closer to the kids, her ears tuned for snatches of conversation. Surprised, she spotted Grace Ellis with the newly arrived group of teens. She was less animated than her friends. How could she stand to be here after her boyfriend had died on this very beach back in May? The event had kept kids away from the lake for a week or two; then they’d shrugged it off and gone back to business as usual. Resiliency at its best.
    Grace wrapped her arms around her middle. Her pink bikini seemed too bright for her mood. Her friends tried to coax her into the water, but she shook her head and knelt on her towel to watch the boys horse around. Was she thinking about her dead boyfriend?
    “Again, Uncle Bruce,” Brianna begged.
    Laughing, Bruce gave Brianna another toss.
    Keeping Brianna in her peripheral vision, Carly wandered closer to Grace.
    Grace looked up. Her brows drew together. “I know you. You’re the social worker.”
    “That’s me.” Carly, sensing the girl’s discomfort, looked out over the water.
    Grace blinked away from her. “What are you doing here?”
    Because, at twenty-nine, Carly was a thousand years too old to be at the lake. “My brother wanted to bring my daughter for a quick swim.” She nodded toward Bruce and Brianna.
    Grace gave them two seconds of consideration. She leaned forward and drew a circle in the dirt with her finger.
    “Hot day,” Carly said.
    Grace drew a tree and gave it stick branches.
    Carly went for the direct approach. “How are you, Grace? I know the summer has been rough.”
    “Fine.” Grace shrugged.
    “If you ever need to talk to anyone . . .” Carly let the implication hang.
    “I’m fine,” Grace said with bite. Her posture tensed.
    “Do you know Peter Rollins?” Carly asked.
    Grace nodded, her shoulders rounding and relaxing again. Obviously she was