“That is Sam,” she said, following his gaze.

“His real name is Michael Sycamore. He lives in Houston and no one has seen him for a week.”

“I’ve not seen him since camp.”

“There’s been no one around you that you’ve seen, say at the party, that could have been him?”

“No.”

“What about the caller at the Crisis Center. You said it sounded like a woman, but could it have been him pretending?”

She frowned. “No. I mean at the time I thought I was speaking to a woman but now I don’t know.”

“Tell me about the night this photo was taken.”

“It was the last night we were all together. I didn’t want to go at first. I hate good-byes, and I didn’t want to see Rory go. But I went and we sat around that night clinging to each other because we knew our time together was ending. Rory was being sent home the next day, and we knew Sara, Jennifer, and Sam, I mean Michael, would follow soon.” She traced Jennifer’s face, closed her eyes, and then as if a memory drifted from the shadows said, “That last night we all shared our dying wish.”

“What were they?”

“Rory said he’d die happy if I were the last person he saw. Sara wanted her mother to love her.”

“Did Jennifer say she wanted her brother back?” Bragg asked.

She closed her eyes and then when she opened them he saw surprise. “No, she said she wanted forgiveness.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’d almost forgotten.”

“Whom did she want forgiveness from?”

“She never said. I’d assumed her family. Mine hadn’t forgiven me.”

“But you didn’t ask for forgiveness. You wanted your brother back.”

She swallowed. “All that mattered to me was that Jeff wasn’t dead.”

“Think back to the conversations you had with Jennifer. What did she say?”

Frowning, she shook her head. “That last day we were all together I knew she wanted to talk to me, but we were all filled with emotion, just like any other teenagers. She struggled. But she never told me what was bothering her, and I never pressed.”

“What did Michael want?”

“For his father to pay attention to him. That’s why he stole from him in the first place.”

“This all started at Shady Grove.”

“It wasn’t a bad place. The doctors there were kind and loving, and it did a lot of kids good. I don’t understand why anyone would want to find us.”

He took her elbow in hand. A possessive move but he couldn’t resist not touching her any longer. “Be careful, Greer.”

Bright blue eyes sparked with a tiny hint of humor. “Sounds like you care about me.”

He studied her. “Maybe I do.”

For a moment she was silent as she stared into his gaze for signs of deception. “How do you know I’m not the killer?”

He brushed a strand of hair back away from her eyes. “I’m going on the assumption that you’re not. Plus, Winchester found evidence that cleared you.”

“The truck tires.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you care about me?”

“Maybe because of Mitch. Maybe I just like you.”

She shook her head. “Don’t put your trust in me, Ranger. I’m not so sure I deserve it.”

He saw the hurt in her eyes and it troubled him. “Why do you say that? You’ll never forget the accident but Jeff wouldn’t want you living like this, would he?”

“No.”

Seconds later a hearse pulled up in front of the church. The doors to the church opened, a priest dressed in brightly colored vestments materialized, and organ music drifted out into the street.

Behind the hearse was a long black stretch limo. It stopped and out stepped David Edwards, dressed in a crisp black suit, and a tall blonde wearing sunglasses. He pressed his hand into the blonde’s back.

Greer’s body tensed and she drew closer to Bragg.

Greer wasn’t sure exactly when she’d decided to go to Rory’s funeral. There was no moment. No knowing. She’d just woken up this morning realizing it was something she had to do. She owed Rory a good-bye.

But now as she stared at David Edwards’s stiff-back posture, panic reared and clawed at her gut. As much as she wanted to slip back into her truck, hide, and let the moment pass, she held her ground.

“You all right?” Bragg said.

She felt the color drain from her face. “I’m not great at funerals. I’ve only been to my aunt’s.”

“What about your father’s?”

“I wasn’t invited. And you know I missed Jeff’s because I was in the hospital.”

She watched as a handful of pallbearers moved behind the hearse and opened the door. She recognized Rory’s brother, tall and broad shouldered.

Other cars arrived. A handful of mourners trailed into the church. Pallbearers supplied by the funeral home removed a polished walnut casket and each grabbing a brass handle lifted the weight to climb the stairs. Organ music grew louder. Edwards followed his brother’s casket into the church.

Bragg rested his hand on her shoulder and she jumped. “I’m right here.”

“I’m not backing down.”

As if understanding her need to do this, he reached past her, pulled her keys from the ignition, and closed her car door. “We’ll go in together.”

Unable to speak, she nodded.

He took her elbow in hand and guided her into the sanctuary and to a pew in the back. He removed his Stetson and reached for a hymnal. She accepted it, grateful for the task of finding the song. Finally she found the page and held it up for the two of them.

The room was not full. Little more than a dozen people, clearly acquaintances of David’s, hovered in the first pews. Rory’s brother sat on the right with the lovely blond woman at his side. The other pallbearers stood to the left, and they all wore tags bearing their names above RYDER FUNERAL HOME.

Her hands trembled until Bragg’s hand came up under hers to steady it. Neither sang. She stared at the casket, sorry for the boy she’d once known. He’d been so beautiful physically that he drew women who wanted him and even men who wished they were him. But he had chosen her above all the others. And for a short time she’d felt loved and whole.

Only later did she realize under the beauty there’d been weakness.

The song ended and a white-haired priest dressed in ornate vestments stood in front of the casket. He spoke of Rory as a young man, full of hopes and dreams. Of too many wrong paths taken. The priest’s prayer spoke of Rory finding a place of peace and happiness.

More prayers followed and the priest offered the final blessing. Greer grew rigid as the pallbearers took the handles of the casket and lifted it.

She replaced the book in the seat pocket and glanced toward the door, wanting to make a quick escape before she was noticed.

“Steady,” Bragg said.

“I should go.”

“See it through. You’ll be better for it.”

“David doesn’t want me here.”

“You’ve every right.”

Bragg was not her friend. He was a cop. But he’d shown up to personally tell her about Jennifer and to support her. She couldn’t deny her attraction for him grew by the moment. She leaned into him, hoping to draw a little of his strength.

At first he didn’t move. He stood steady, afraid if he moved she’d pull away. When the casket passed, her grip tightened. When David spotted her, his gaze turning predatory, Bragg tightened his hold on Greer and tugged her a step closer as a signal to both David and Greer she was under his protection.

David Edwards glared but didn’t say a word, but his gaze bore the promise of paybacks to Greer for trespassing. The remaining mourners left the church, leaving Bragg and Greer alone.

Alone, the strain abated from her body and she realized he held her hand. Gently, she pulled away. “David is not pleased.”

Bragg grunted. “He’ll survive.”

She lingered, clearly hoping the funeral party would clear away before she had to leave. He seemed content to stand there alone with her. “Shame Rory had so few friends in the end.”