His neighbors probably weren’t happy about the noise. He’d tried to sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Madison, looking up at him, hopeful. Thankful.He drove the screw home and reached for the next leg. If she only knew.The memory haunted him still. Followed him like an ominous shadow, creeping up behind him when he least expected it. Like tonight. He tried to push it away, but it came upon him, consuming him.He’d been swimming at Turner’s Bend as he often did on sweltering Saturdays. Shaded by the jagged cliff wall, the river was moving slow and lazy as it curled through the bend, the water clear and refreshing.He had to get home and shower for work soon, but he was reluctant to leave. He plunged underwater and stayed down until his lungs felt like bursting.He surfaced to find Michael McKinley kicking off his Nikes onshore. Beckett scanned the area, hoping Madison had tagged along, but Michael was alone. Probably for the best. Ever since he’d kissed her at the dance last year, he’d done his best to ignore her, which had become pretty easy since he’d graduated.
