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I raced to the back of the parking lot. Geneva was sitting on the asphalt, trembling. Her side window was smashed in. Someone had thrown a rock. Wrapped around the rock was a piece of paper tied with a rubber band. I warned Geneva not to touch it.

The words scrawled in red marker said, “Atrō te benedicto ... my gift is coming for you too.”

“It’s time to call the police,” I said.

Geneva nodded. I helped her off the ground. “Wait here,” I told her.

I went to the end of the row, scanning the street. There was a gas station one block over, but probably too far away for anyone to have witnessed anything. Geneva’s car was the only one parked at the end of this row. There was a dumpster nearby. I walked over to it. From this distance, it would have provided perfect cover for someone to have thrown that rock and easily hit Geneva’s window.

I looked at the ground, not knowing what I expected to find. A footprint? A cigarette butt? I looked toward the restaurant. I could see no surveillance cameras anywhere. But perhaps they were hidden. Still, McClaren’s was such an out-of-the-way, mom-and-pop establishment, it was unlikely they’d have anything so sophisticated. The sheriff’s deputies would have their work cut out for them figuring out who did this. If they even could.

I led Geneva back to the restaurant. A small crowd had formed, having heard her scream.

The host led her to a chair in the lobby. After I called Mac, he had a crew out within five minutes. Deputy Carnes was one of them. I sat with Geneva as she explained what happened. I gave my version as well. But as I suspected, no one else claimed to have seen or heard anything.

Carnes took me aside while his partner finished talking with Geneva. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” He winked. “You sure she’s gonna be okay?”

“No,” I said. “I really don’t. What are the odds you’re gonna solve this one?”

Carnes shrugged. “Let’s try to be optimistic. I just can’t understand why someone would be so cruel. You know, I’m friends with a couple of the Down County deputies who were called out to the scene at Deadwater Lake. They’re still not over it. I’d just hate to think someone is really out to harm that woman. What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks for getting here so quickly.”

“Of course. I’ll ask around. Hopefully, someone saw something. In the meantime, you know you can call anytime.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“We can see that she gets home safely,” he said. “I’ll arrange to get her car towed if she’s not comfortable driving it. If she is, I’ll follow her.”

“That’s great, Carnes. I appreciate you taking care of her.”

Carnes smiled and went back to Geneva. I pulled my phone out to let my dad know I would be later than I thought getting home. I’d put my alerts on silent. I saw a screen notification. Boone Sidney had sent me a text.

If you still want it. I think I might be able to help you. Can you meet me tomorrow? I’ll send you the address.

Chapter

Nineteen

The address Boone Sidney sent me led to a storage lot in Jackson, Michigan. He stood next to his blue Ford Explorer right outside the gates as I pulled up. He was alone as he waved me over.

“Can we talk first?” he asked.

“Of course.” Seeing nowhere better to do that but inside the car, I opened my passenger door. Boone hesitated, then accepted my invitation and slid into the seat beside me.

For a moment, he stared straight ahead. Then he folded his hands in his lap and turned to me. “Raven would kill me if she found out I was here. We got into a huge fight after you left the other day. She thinks I should have thrown you out of my office. If I left it up to her, she’d want a restraining order.”

“I’m not trying to harass you.”

“I don’t think you are. I had some time to think. I did some Googling. I know more about who you are now.”

“I didn’t think I had much of an internet presence,” I said. I didn’t even have a website for the firm. But I knew exactly the kinds of things Boone would have found.

“I think you were right, what you said in my office. Maybe we have more in common than I realized,” he said. “You and your dad, I mean. He’s a household name. Just like Derrek.”

I withheld the urge to point out the very different nature of our fathers’ notoriety. I think I understood his point, though.

“It’s not easy being judged against the deeds of a person you had no control over being sired by,” I said.