Ryan, of course, grunted.

“I don’t want to be near her either, so let’s just get it over with.” Stepping onto the porch, Makenna knocked on the door.

Cynthia opened it a crack, eyes narrowed. “I’m not answering any of your questions, I have nothing to say.”

“Riley said you’d avoid talking with us,” Makenna lied, “but I said you wouldn’t do anything that would make you look guilty. Not unless you had anything to hide, anyway. Do you?”

Her eyes flared. “No, I do not.”

“But you won’t talk to us,” Makenna pointed out.

Her lips flattened. “I don’t have to.”

“In your position, I’d want to know who shot my sister and see them pay. And I’d accept all the help I could get.”

Cynthia hesitated, seeming torn.

“We just have a few questions.” Makenna’s tone was steady and friendly. “It won’t take long.”

With a sigh of impatience, Cynthia opened the door a little wider. “I firmly believe that the person who shot my sister is not part of this flock. Everyone here likes Lucy.” The latter was said with a note of envy. “We were all scarred by what happened four years ago. None of us would wish to see it happen again.”

“You were invited to Alec’s party, but you didn’t go. Why?”

Cynthia blinked. “I had every intention of going. I was simply late getting ready.”

“Was there anyone who asked you not to go?”

She put a hand on her hip. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Humor me.”

“Duncan asked me to meet him at the make-out spot near the hot springs. We used to date back then. But I told him I would be at the party and that he should meet me there. I wasn’t going to miss a party like that.”

Makenna heard the lie. “Really? Because we heard differently,” she bluffed, hoping Cynthia might believe they’d spoken with the others first and heard something to contradict her.

Cynthia’s eyes tightened. “Sawyer told you.” She sniffed. “Okay, fine, I invited him to my house that night. I didn’t think he’d want to go to the party anyway, after all the shit that happened between him and Alec.”

“Can you elaborate?” asked Ryan.

Cynthia replied, “He ordered Alec and his friends to ease up on Wade, though I’ve no idea why he cared. They agreed. The next night, they beat the shit out of Wade—Alec was sending a message to Sawyer that he wouldn’t take orders from him. They ended up dueling, and Alec submitted when it became clear he wasn’t going to win. He then apologized, and so did the others. A few nights later, they all went to a bar together. At some point they got Sawyer drunk, stripped him naked, tied him to a tree, and left him there . . . but not before taking photographic evidence. You can imagine how much that pissed off Sawyer.”

Yeah, Makenna could. Dominant males had a proud streak a hundred miles long.

“Of course, Sawyer then practically pulverized Alec when he got home,” Cynthia went on. “It wasn’t the first time they’d gone head-to-head like that, and it probably wouldn’t have been the last.”

“When did that happen?”

“Maybe a month before the party, something like that. They’d settled things by then, but it still surprised me that Sawyer said he would go. I sure wouldn’t have risked getting drunk around them again, in his position.”

“I see. One last thing . . . Is there anyone who might have a grudge against the people of your age-group?”

“Sure. Riley. Oh, I can see that you doubt that. Ask her how many years of her life she spent defending poor Wade. Ask how many years she spent arguing and fighting the people who continued to target him, no matter what she did. Maybe she blamed them all for his depression.”

Bitch. Makenna offered her a grateful smile that she suspected bared a few too many teeth. “Thanks for your time.”

“You’re welcome.” Then she slammed the door in their faces.

Grunting, Ryan herded Makenna to the end of Cynthia’s path.

“Such a sweetheart,” Makenna remarked. “At least she talked to us. Hopefully, Duncan does too.”

Makenna and Ryan headed straight to the eastern border, where they had been told they could find Duncan. He was sitting on a large rock. At the sight of them approaching, he slowly stood . . . like a snake uncoiling. He stared at them with blatant distrust.

Hoping to put him at ease, Makenna smiled as she introduced herself and Ryan. “We’d like to speak with you, if you can spare us a few minutes. Our questions are pretty basic.”

After a long moment, Duncan said, “All right. Ask.”

“Why didn’t you go to Alec’s party?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

She blinked. “Your father is under the impression that you should have been there.”

“I told him I was going,” said Duncan. “Really, my plan was to meet with Cynthia near the hot springs.”

Makenna nodded. “Why weren’t you invited?”

Duncan shrugged. “Probably because Alec had never liked me much. Cynthia dumped him for me, and he didn’t take it too well.”

“Did Cynthia agree to meet with you that night?”

“No.”

“Sawyer says that Cynthia invited him to her house,” Makenna said as sensitively as possible.

“She probably did,” said Duncan, his tone surprisingly even. “Cynthia likes having her cake and eating it too. Back then, she didn’t want to end things with me, but she wanted Sawyer—she’s wanted him for a long time.”

And that clearly hurt him, thought Makenna as pain briefly spiked in his eyes. She couldn’t help feeling a little bad for him. “Do you have any idea who, other than Wade, might have had a grudge against your age-group?”

Duncan shook his head. “No.”

Makenna felt Ryan tense beside her, and she knew why; she’d sensed the lie too. “Duncan, now is really not the time to hold back information.”

He glanced away. “I’ve told you all I know.”

“Is it about Cynthia?”

He exhaled heavily. “Yes, okay. And if I say anything, you’ll point fingers at her.”

“She already has fingers pointed at her, Duncan,” said Makenna. “I know you want to protect her, and I can understand that. But someone shot at Riley and Lucy. They have to be stopped.”