Deadly Summer Read online

  The hardness in her eyes faded. “Is that what happened to you with your costar from Gotcha!?”

  Little did she know. “Something like that. But he was only one of several. Just don’t do it, okay? We’ll always find another way.”

  She threw her arms around my neck and pulled me into a hug without saying a word.

  I squeezed her back, then noticed Bill standing at the back of the truck and looking like he was having second thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as I released Dixie and headed back toward him, prepared to do a lot of sweet talking.

  “I don’t have anything to tie the camera down, and I don’t want it sliding around.”

  “Do you need to sit back there with it?” Dixie asked. “Because it’s a beautiful day, and I would be happy to sit back there with you.”

  I sucked in an angry breath, pissed that we’d just had that conversation and she was doing the exact opposite of what I’d told her, but she turned her back to him as he lowered he truck gate to climb in.

  “I know what you’re thinkin’,” Dixie whispered to me, “but I wanna do this. He’s actually a nice guy.”

  “He’s a lech,” I hissed back. “I saw him checkin’ out your boobs, Dixie.”

  “So what? Men check women out.” Then, before I could protest more, she spun around, her long platinum-blonde hair swinging with her. “Can you help me up?”

  I nearly snorted. She’d grown up on a farm. She’d been crawling in truck beds before she could walk. And I would know. I’d been there with her. But I got into the truck and turned over the engine, telling myself that Dixie was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions.

  So why did I suddenly feel so responsible for her?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dixie was right—it was a beautiful day. It was the middle of April, and being so close to the Gulf of Mexico, Sweet Briar and Bixley County heated up a lot faster than the rest of the country. But we were enjoying a good spell—the expected high was in the midseventies, and the sun was shining.

  We stopped off at Mama Jane’s, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that only sold fried chicken and the fixings out of the window of what looked like a dilapidated shack. Dixie had called ahead, and they had a huge bucket of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and rolls waiting for us when we pulled up. I realized too late that I only had fourteen dollars in my wallet—not nearly enough to pay for the twenty-five-dollar lunch, and my credit cards were mostly maxed out. But Bill, in his effort to impress Dixie, was already hopping out of the truck to pay for it. The looks my cousin was giving him suggested that she was actually into him, but I worried that acting was in the Baumgartner family blood. I’d have to interrogate her later.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled into the Sunny Beach rec area and drove all the way to the end, parking close to the trail by the picnic shelter. This was where the janitor claimed to have seen Otto’s bike, but I didn’t make any mention of it when we got out, instead suggesting that we all go sit on the pier and enjoy the sunshine and the view. I’d figure out an excuse to investigate after we ate.

  The restaurant had included plates and plasticware, so we filled our plates and dove in.

  “Oh, my word,” I said through a mouthful of chicken. “I’m gonna get so fat while I’m here.”

  “Please,” Dixie scoffed. “Maybelline was right. You need more meat on you. I’d never work out in Hollywood because I like to eat too much.” To prove her point, she took a big bite from the chicken leg in her hand.

  “I think you look perfect just the way you are,” Bill said, giving her puppy-dog eyes.

  Frowning, I scrutinized him closely. He’d come off as a player earlier, but I had to admit he seemed pretty smitten with her.

  Dixie laughed and waved her hand. “Oh, come on. Summer’s the star. Not me.”

  “You’re just as pretty as she is,” he said, then lowered his voice and added, “if not prettier.”

  “Sittin’ right here,” I said in a dry tone.

  Bill laughed and turned to me. “I’m just kiddin’, Summer, but I have to say you’re not like what I’d heard about you.”

  My back stiffened, but I tried to hide my unease. “Oh, really. What did you hear?”

  He cringed. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “I’m not sensitive,” I said. “I know what people say—or used to when everything went down with Conner Blake and the contract dispute with the show.”

  Still, he hesitated.

  “Here’s what I know people were saying—that I was a self-centered diva who didn’t like to share the limelight. How’m I doin’?”

  His cheeks reddened. “Summer . . .”

  “I know that Lauren warned you all about me. Did she regurgitate the same old stories?”

  He sat up straighter, looking pissed. “Is that why you agreed so quickly to bring me with you guys? So you could quiz me about Lauren?”

  “Really?” I laughed. “I don’t need to quiz you to know she tried to poison you all. And I don’t even really need to know what she said. All I can do is be me and try to prove whatever she said is a lie or a misinterpretation of the facts.” I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him, then decided I didn’t trust him yet.

  “So why didn’t you fight Lauren when she told me to come along?” he prodded.

  “Because we’re gonna be workin’ together for another two weeks, and I figured the best way to get to know me and Dixie was one-on-one. Nothing sinister about that, right?”

  “Yeah . . .” He didn’t sound convinced.

  “Look, I know a lot of what we’re doin’ is as fake as a three-dollar bill,” I said, realizing my Southern accent was creeping in. “But I think the Otto Olson case is real. So why’s Lauren wasting our time with crazy nonsense like buried gold?”

  “Filler,” Bill said with a shrug. “And false leads, like Lauren said. She’s right. It can’t be too easy.”

  “The police aren’t very interested in this case, so we could make a difference. We could help Gretchen get some peace.”

  “What exactly are you suggesting?” Bill asked. “Renegade sleuthing?”

  I hadn’t gotten that far. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to be the butt of people’s jokes anymore. I want people to take me seriously, and we both know that’s not Lauren’s goal.”

  “Summer, I sympathize, I really do, but I’m not sure what I can do about it.”

  “I know.”

  He and Dixie spent the next ten minutes making small talk. Turned out Bill had grown up not too far from Sweet Briar, but on the Georgia side, and was living in Atlanta now. After I finished eating, I stood and said, “I need to walk off this food or I won’t fit in my jeans tomorrow. You two can stay here if you want.”

  Dixie gave me a worried look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ll text you if I get into trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble could you get into?” Bill asked.

  Dixie winked. “You just never know with Summer.”

  I threw my trash into a metal bin by the picnic shelter and then jogged to the truck. I grabbed the camera in case I saw something useful. I knew I only had about ten minutes before we needed to leave if we were going to be back in time, and while I was tempted to say screw it and not worry about showing up late, I really did need to choose my battles.

  I headed toward the trail, stepping over the metal chain blocking the path, ignoring the sign that said CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. The trail went into the woods for about ten feet before curving right, away from the lake. It curved again after about twenty feet and then continued on for another hundred feet or so. I was definitely heading away from the lake.

  I was just about to turn back, sure I was on the wrong trail, when the path broke out into a clearing surrounded by dense trees to my right. My eyes adjusted to the shadows, and I spotted a bike on the far side of the clearing—blue and red, just as the janitor had describ
ed it. I started snapping photos as I approached. Glancing around to take in my surroundings, it struck me how remote this place was. The janitor said he’d found the bike while he was out here fishing, but this path twisted away from the lake. It didn’t make sense.

  I heard a tree branch crack in the patch of trees to my left, and I froze, wondering if this had been a setup. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I held my breath.

  God, I was an idiot. I had followed a remote path into the woods, looking for a man I had begun to suspect had met with foul play. So here I was, alone and certain someone was out there watching me, and I was completely defenseless. Well, not completely . . . I’d learned a few self-defense moves, although I couldn’t think of a single one at the moment. The camera was heavy, so I could use it as a weapon, but Lauren would kill me if broke it—not that she planned to use any of the photos I had taken.

  Get it together, Summer!

  There was another crack, this time more directly in front of me. Common sense told me that it was nothing—probably an animal that was more scared of me than I was of it—but instinct told me the noise was from a human, and they were watching me now. What was the smart thing to do? Call 911? Over a broken tree branch? Luke would never listen to me, then. Maybe it was just some (mostly) harmless drunks or a couple of kids skipping school. This land was supposed to be closed to the public right now. Neither of us was supposed to be out here; maybe they were hiding from me.

  “Hello,” I called out. “Who’s there?” I took a step forward to investigate, then stopped abruptly. I was acting like every stupid woman in a horror movie.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Dixie.

  I found Otto’s bike in the woods. I think someone is here watching me, but no proof. Bring Bill.

  If the noise was in front of me, then I needed to escape the way I’d come, but I didn’t like the thought of turning my back to whoever was out there. I started taking slow steps backward, trying not to look like I was running away, which was stupid. It was a lot slower this way. Then I heard another sound in the trees to my left, immediately followed by a succession of crunching sounds to the right.

  Oh, my God. Was there more than one person out here?

  Run.

  I spun around and started to take off, only to immediately trip. My arms windmilled to keep me from falling, but I ended up in the woods to my right, away from the parking lot. The camera hanging from my neck hit me hard in the abdomen, nearly knocking the wind out of me, while my forehead smacked hard into a low tree branch. My vision began to darken and tunnel.

  Oh, crap. I couldn’t pass out.

  I blinked hard a couple of times, trying to regain my sight. The branch had stopped my fall, and I’d ended up on my knees.

  Get up. Run!

  But my coordination was off, and I fell forward, landing on my hands, the camera swinging wildly between my arms. Something sharp pricked my palm, and I started to crawl, but which way was the path?

  Calm down, Summer. Think. I stopped and sucked in a deep breath as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

  More broken tree branches snapped behind me, but the same sound was also coming from my left—there were definitely two people chasing me. I started crawling frantically, pretty certain I was crawling away from the trail.

  “Summer?” Dixie called out, but her voice was distant.

  “Here!” I shouted, but I still hadn’t regained my full breath, and it came out hoarse and weak. “Here!”

  The noise behind me was getting closer, so I continued crawling. I was moving away from my cousin, but now I was worried I’d put Dixie in danger too. The woods were dense, even this close off the trail, and between my fuzzy vision and the tears now filling my eyes, I was struggling to see where I was going.

  I heard what sounded like a man’s grunt to my left. I scrambled forward, my hand hitting something cold and damp. When I looked to see what it was, my mouth dropped in horror. I was face-to-face with a very dead Otto Olson.

  I recoiled in horror and started to scream. The camera swung and smacked into my ribs. It was then I saw movement in my still-fuzzy peripheral vision. Suddenly pain filled my head and everything turned to black.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I woke to Dixie’s voice. Something soft was under the back of my very sore head. “Summer? Oh, my God, Summer? Do something, Bill!”

  “I’ve already called 911,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically serious.

  I blinked my eyes open and saw Dixie’s tear-streaked face staring down at me. I realized the something soft was her legs. My head was on her lap.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said in a broken voice. “She’s awake.”

  “Otto,” I gasped.

  “He’s over there.” She tilted her head to the side. Several tears fell down her cheeks. “We moved you away from him once we realized you’d fainted.”

  Was that what had happened? It all came rushing back, along with the horror of the final seconds before I blacked out. I sat upright, then winced and grabbed my head as sharp pain shot through it. “There’s someone out there.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, her eyes full of concern. “There’s no one out there. Bill looked.”

  I glanced back and forth between them, trying to piece everything together. “But I was sure . . .” I felt like I was forgetting something.

  “You have a huge lump on your forehead,” Dixie said. “How’d you get it?”

  “I heard someone in the woods. I tried running away, but I stumbled into the trees and hit my head. The back of my head hurts too.” Everything seemed to be in slow motion, and I felt so heavy. All I wanted was to fall asleep. “I’m gonna lie back down and take a nap.”

  “No,” Bill said, reaching for my arm. “Help me, Dixie. We should get her to the clearing.”

  “Then I can take a nap,” I said, my eyelids drooping. Dixie grabbed my other arm, but I could hardly get my feet to work.

  “No falling asleep, Summer,” Bill said in a sharp voice, giving me a shake. “You have to stay awake.”

  “Is she okay?” Dixie asked.

  “I’m sure she has a concussion. We need to keep her awake until the ambulance gets here.”

  We finally made it to the clearing, and I fell to my knees. I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds, and I was exhausted from the effort of standing. All I wanted was to lie down and rest.

  “Summer,” Bill said, pulling me back up into a sitting position, “no, no you can’t lie down. Stay awake.” He leaned into my face. “Look at me. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Your breath smells like chicken,” I murmured, then blinked hard. Bill was right. I needed to get myself together. “Where’s your camera?”

  “Over there.” He motioned to the camera lying in the dirt. “I dropped it when we heard you screaming. Lauren’s going to kill me.”

  Focus. We had a job to do. “You have to get it, and film before the sheriff gets here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Otto’s bike is over there by the tree,” I said. “The janitor at the church told me he saw it out here. That’s why I wanted to come . . . to look for it.”

  “What bike?”

  I blinked again. Sure enough, there was no bike. “It was there. I swear. I took photos of it.” Then I glanced down and realized the camera wasn’t around my neck. “Where’s the camera?” I turned to my cousin, starting to panic. “Dixie, where is it?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see it.”

  “It must have fallen off when you fell,” Bill said.

  “No.” I shook my head and instantly regretted it. “It didn’t.” I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I felt certain I was right. My ribs ached and I tenderly touched them. “You need to find it. It has photos of the bike and the woods. Whoever was out there might be in the shots.”

  “Summer,” Bill said, “there’s no one out there. You just suffered a concussion. You’re confused.”


  “I’m not confused, at least not about the bike. It was there.” I struggled to get to my feet, but Bill gave me an impatient look and tried to push me back down.

  “Summer, you need to wait for the EMTs to check you out. You probably have to go to the hospital.”

  I shoved his arm away. “Dixie, help me.”

  She glanced up at Bill as though asking for permission.

  “No,” I barked. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. I’m not crazy, and I’m not confused. I saw it. I need you to help me over there.”

  “Summer.”

  The first wail of sirens filled the air, and I knew we didn’t have much time. “Dixie, please.”

  Dixie grabbed my arm and helped me up, then we stumbled closer. My vision was still off—I was now seeing double—so I squinted to try to focus. “It was there.”

  Dixie let go of me and moved closer. Suddenly, her body jerked upright. “I think I see a tire track.” She spun around to face Bill. “Get your camera. We need proof.”

  He leaned over to look and then glanced up at me. “Jesus. You’re right.”

  Before I could process what was going on, he had his camera out and pointed at me. “I’m not sure how this will turn out. It’s pretty dark back here, but we’ll give it a go.” He lifted his hand and counted down with his fingers—three, two, one—and then showed me a fist, or at least I thought he did. I was having trouble seeing it.

  “Summer,” he said in a clear voice. “Tell us what happened.”

  “I was in the woods on a trail here by Lake Edna. The trail opened into this clearing,” I said, sweeping my arm to indicate the area around us. A wave of nausea rolled through me, but I ignored it as Bill slowly panned the camera around.

  The sirens were becoming louder. We didn’t have much time.

  “I found the bike over there,” I pointed in that direction, and Bill did a slow pan. “But then I heard a sound in the woods. While it could have been an animal, I just knew it was a person. I texted Dixie to bring Bill, the cameraman. But I couldn’t wait for them—I felt like I was in danger, so I started to run. I tripped and stumbled into the woods, still being chased. Then I fell. Everything went a little hazy after that. I vaguely remember finding Otto Olson’s body, I . . . I think someone hit my head from behind”—Dixie gasped, but Bill didn’t stop filming—“and the next thing I knew, I woke up. Dixie and Bill had found me, but the bike and my camera—which I’d used to take photos of the bike—were gone.”