Paris stiffened at the sound of them. He turned, and his expression softened into a quiet laugh. “I thought I heard someone coming in.”
“I…” Ashley started, but she wasn’t sure what to say. She cleared her throat. “What’re you doing out here?”
“I’m guessing probably the same as you,” Paris mused. “Except looking for Tristan is my actual job.”
Ashley looked out the shattered window to the other side of the lake. “I thought—”
“—that we weren’t looking on this side of the lake?” Paris asked. “I said I didn’t want you kids over here. There’s not really any trails or landmarks. If I lost track of one of you, it’d be hard to find you again. I’ve already got one kid missing and another one dead.”
“Oh,” Ashley said.
“And, as your sheriff, I really don’t like you girls being out here by yourselves,” Paris said. “With everything going on, it’s really not safe. I’ll stick with you for now, but I’d really prefer you not to go anywhere without chaperones from now on.”
Ashley and Logan nodded. For a moment, there was only silence.
Paris’s expression brightened and he quickly made his way across the main room. He turned to face Logan and extended a hand. “You must be Alejo’s kid. Nice to officially meet you.”
Logan blinked. “You know my dad?”
“Oh yeah. Me and your dad were best friends in high school. Me, him, and Miss Tammy Barton.”
Ashley shook her head. “I didn’t realize you knew her that well.”
“Yeah, Tammy’s the best. She’s a busy lady, though.” Paris pulled off his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his straw-colored hair. “I try not to bother her much anymore.”
“What tangled webs,” Logan said quietly. “Did you know Brandon, too?”
Paris pulled the cloth off the piano. The keys beneath were decayed and brown around the edges. Logan looked at the piano and her expression changed. It was soft and almost mournful. Ashley thought she looked at the piano like someone else might look at a grave. Sunlight danced over her cheekbones, but her eyes were dark and faraway.
Ashley wondered how many times she’d caught herself staring at those eyes, deep and brown and dark enough to swallow sunlight whole. Ashley’s chest felt tight. She tore herself away, focusing back on the cabin.
“Brandon…” Paris sighed. “Kind of? He was a quiet kid. There were only twelve of us in the class of ’97. I knew him, but I didn’t know him. I don’t think anyone really did. I saw him every day but I think I only talked to him once.”
“I know the feeling,” Logan whispered under her breath.
“But yeah, me and Alejo go way back. We used to spend our summers out here on my dad’s boat. We kind of drifted apart when he went off to a fancy college. I still love him, though. He was like Snakebite’s golden child. Everyone loved him.”
Ashley inched her way into the cabin and closed the front door. Logan seemed wholly uninterested in using any of her dads’ gear now. She only wanted to interrogate Paris. Ashley tried not to be vaguely irritated.
“Why’d you guys stop being friends?” Logan asked.
“We didn’t stop being friends.” Paris continued to pace the cabin before taking a seat on the ratty sofa. “Well, mostly. I don’t know. It sounds so bad, but in a way, when your dad came home and told everyone the news about him being … you know … I was kinda grateful. Like, I was mad that people were so awful to him over it, but it was kind of a relief, too. I got to step out of his shadow.” Paris shook his head. “Wow, that sounds terrible.”