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Guilty as Sin

Page 11

by Jami Alden


  Chapter 7

  The flames of the bonfire cast harsh shadows over the sharp edges of Tommy’s cheekbones and jaw, brought out golden-brown streaks in his dark hair, and highlighted the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiled at something the girl next to him said.

  Despite the roaring fire, a chill settled over Kate’s skin at the realization that while she’d spent all of last year looking forward to seeing Tommy again, he couldn’t care less that she was here.

  Tommy’s a sophomore in college and star of the football team. Of course he doesn’t have time for a silly, up-tight high schooler like you.

  Logically, she got it. She was three years younger than him, and their friendship had always been an unlikely one. Even last summer he’d spent less time with her, more interested in older girls and partying with his friends than taking her on hikes and showing her the best out-of-the-way swimming spots on the lake.

  Just because Kate recognized the truth didn’t make it hurt any less.

  She’d gotten the first inkling yesterday, when Tommy had shown up to mow their lawn, as he had every summer since they’d started coming to the lake. Kate had bounded out of the house, two ice-cold sodas in hand, eager to catch up.

  But when she’d gone to hug him, he’d been awkward and stiff, practically pushing her away. Kate tried to tell herself she was imagining it. But she didn’t imagine him putting his earphones in and cranking up his Walkman. And there was no mistaking the way he packed up his mower and lit out right after he was finished, claiming he had too much work to do to stay for a quick swim.

  Nor was there any mistaking the way he barely spared her a nod when she and her sister arrived at the party tonight. As if they hadn’t spent hours over the past several years together, laughing and talking about their different lives, confessing dreams for the future that didn’t align with the paths their parents envisioned for them.

  Kate felt her heart crack open in that moment, the way his gaze caught, then drifted over her as though he barely knew her. Worse, like he didn’t want to know her.

  Music blared, laughter rang out as dozens of people gathered around the bonfire. Kate couldn’t hear any of it as she watched Tommy bend his head to whisper into the ear of the girl practically plastered to his side.

  A fountain of jealousy erupted in Kate’s stomach as Kelly Kovac tilted her head back in laughter, sending her long blond hair spilling over her shoulders and making her boobs test the holding power of her halter top. She was everything Kate wasn’t: tall, curvy, gregarious.

  The kind of girl every nineteen-year-old guy, including Tommy Ibarra, dreamed of having at his side at a summer bonfire.

  She glanced down at her own modest curves pressing against the bodice of her sundress. Humiliation burned like acid in her stomach as she thought about how carefully she’d gotten dressed tonight, how she’d fantasized about Tommy seeing how much she’d grown up in the past year and realizing she wasn’t a kid anymore.

  Her gaze locked on the smooth skin of Kelly’s cleavage, the skin glowing golden in the firelight.

  As if your baby B cups could ever compete with that.

  Kate gave them fifteen minutes before they snuck off to go fool around.

  She took a sip of beer from her plastic cup and nearly gagged. Kate wasn’t a big drinker in general, and tonight the jealousy gave it an extra-bitter taste.

  She dumped it into the fire, listening to the hiss and sputter with a pang of regret. Tonight would have been a good night to finally develop a taste for alcohol. But she couldn’t even count on that crutch to take the edge off the hurt.

  She dragged her eyes from him and looked around for her sister. Kate’s heart sank when she spotted her. Lauren was cozied up to David Crawford, her latest crush. Lauren was turning on the charm big-time in a way, looking up at him through her lashes and tossing her dark mane of hair in a way Kate could never seem to master. David was eating it up, and Kate knew there was no way she was getting her sister out of here any time soon.

  And there was no way she was going home without her, not unless she wanted an earful from her father about how selfish and irresponsible she was. Kate was the more serious, responsible twin. Kate could be trusted not to get drunk and sneak off with boys and to make sure her sister didn’t either.

  She heard Lauren’s loud peal of laughter and watched her bring her cup to her lips. To be fair, Kate rarely prevented Lauren from having a good time altogether. She just made sure it never went too far.

  Which had inspired Lauren last summer to start calling Kate the funsucker 2000.

  Maybe that was why Tommy had gotten sick of her.

  The thought made her eyes burn, and she realized with horror she was about to start crying. Even if Tommy wasn’t paying attention, she couldn’t just stay here crying like an idiot.

  She pushed to her feet and started down the beach, wishing with everything she had that she could go home to lick her wounds.

  But no, Kate could never bail, Kate had to be responsible and make sure her sister stayed out of trouble. She swallowed back her sobs and took deep breaths of the cool night air, wondering how she was going to make it through an entire month in Sandpoint, running into Tommy while he pretended she didn’t exist.

  “Kate!”

  She stopped short at the call, a thrill shooting down her spine at the sound of the familiar voice. She turned slowly, half afraid she was imagining it. But no, even with his face shadowed by darkness, Kate recognized Tommy’s lanky frame and broad shoulders silhouetted by the fire as he trotted down the beach after her. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  Warmth burst in her chest at the concern in his voice, as though he really cared. Maybe—she smacked the thought down as the hurt, confusion, and no small amount of anger welled up at the way he’d treated her for the past two days. “What do you care? You’re too busy with Kelly bigboobs to talk to me.”

  “Katie, I’m sorry,” he said taking a step closer. He held out his hand awkwardly and let it drop.

  Kate held up her hands. “Look, I get it, I’m not beautiful, or built, or even any fun, so I get why you don’t want to hang out with me. But I don’t see why you don’t even like me—”

  He moved so fast one second she was midsentence and the next his mouth was covering hers, his arms lifting her up off the sand as he plastered her to his body.

  Her lips were parted in surprise, allowing his tongue to sweep inside. It took about five seconds for the shock to wear off and for Kate to realize that Tommy Ibarra was actually kissing her.

  And just as she’d dreamed, it felt really, really good.

  Though Kate wasn’t nearly as active on the dating scene as her sister, she’d been kissed a handful of times before. But nothing could have prepared her for the rush of heat that blew through her at the first touch of Tommy’s mouth on hers.

  It was almost overpowering, the new sensations rushing through her. His tongue stroked against hers, exploring, and soon Kate’s breath was coming in hot, shaky pants, her hands trembling so much it was embarrassing but she couldn’t make it stop.

  But at the same time she couldn’t get enough of his taste, the warm, musky scent of his skin, the feel of his muscles rippling under the smooth skin of his arms as her fingers clutched him for balance.

  He sank to his knees onto the sand, pulling her with him. Rolling to his back, he pulled her down on top of him, holding her so most of her weight landed on his chest and her bare legs tangled with his.

  With a groan he tore his mouth away from hers, his own breath coming hard and fast. “This is why, okay? This is why I’ve been such a dick.”

  “What?” In Kate’s kiss-addled state, the explanation made no sense.

  “It started last summer, and I knew you were too young. You’re still too young—”

  “I’ll be seventeen next month!” Kate protested.

  Tommy gave a helpless chuckle and slid his hands up and down her back. “And you’re still jailbait. That
should be reason enough for me to keep my hands off.” His hand came up to curve around the nape of her neck and guided her mouth back down to his.

  She parted her lips eagerly, reached up her hands to thread in his thick, dark hair. Hardly able to believe any of this was happening as heat like nothing she’d ever felt before sizzled through every nerve.

  “I spent the last month telling myself I wasn’t going to touch you,” Tommy murmured between hot, drugging kisses, “that I could be around you like always and nothing would happen. Then I saw you, and you looked so pretty, and I just knew…” His hands swept down her spine, coming to rest at the small of her back, his fingers curling into the tender skin. “I know you’re not experienced.”

  The heat of embarrassment momentarily chased away the heat of young lust. Was it that obvious?

  “… but I want you to know I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.”

  Kate’s breath hitched as he sucked her bottom lip between his, doubt creeping around the edges of her pleasure. He said that now, but what if he got impatient? Or worse, bored? What if he decided wasting his time with a Goody Two-shoes like her wasn’t worth it?

  As though reading her mind, Tommy broke the kiss and cradled her face in his hands. “I don’t know what it is about you, Katie, but something about you drives me a little crazy. I just can’t seem to stay away from you.”

  Kate jolted awake, heart pounding, the feel of Tommy’s lips on hers so vivid she swore she could still taste him. She closed her eyes, clinging to the threads of the dream. Trying to hold onto that feeling of happiness, that moment of feeling like everything she ever wanted in life was falling into her hands.

  But the dream faded, disappeared, as quickly and completely as the happiness of those few weeks with Tommy had disappeared.

  Where had that come from? she wondered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

  She hadn’t allowed herself to think of that night in forever, and so far her subconscious had cooperated. Why now? She sighed as she stepped under the hot shower spray. Why was the universe taunting her with the memories of that night, the magic of their first kiss, the way his arms had felt so safe and strong around her?

  As the dream faded, the Tommy of her memories merged with the cold, stony warrior she’d encountered yesterday, a man hardened by that one horrible night and the life he’d lived since.

  As though she needed any more reminders of how different everything was now. Of everything she’d lost.

  It was still early, just after six, when Kate arrived at headquarters. Despite the early hour, the blond reporter from the day before was waiting out front.

  “Maura Walsh, KITV News,” she said. “Kate, can you tell us if there have been any new developments since you’ve gotten involved with the search?”

  Nothing I’d share with a vulture like you, she thought as Walsh shoved the microphone practically up her nose. Unlike Kate, who was foggy headed from her restless night, Walsh was positively beaming with energy, makeup flawless, not a hair out of place in her helmetlike coif. Kate schooled her features into a neutral expression. “We have nothing to share right now, but hopefully some solid leads have come in through the tip line, and the sheriff and his deputies will be conducting another search effort today.”

  Kate tried to step around Walsh, but the woman moved with her and blocked her path. “Are you concerned that the forty-eight-hour mark has been passed?”

  The coffee Kate had drunk on her way in curdled in her stomach at the reference to the critical time window. “Of course. I’m concerned with every minute that passes without us finding Tricia.”

  “You are aware, though,” Walsh persisted, “that statistics say that in the case of an abduction, after forty-eight hours the likelihood of finding the victim alive is cut in half.”

  Of course I’m aware, she wanted to shout. One didn’t work closely on over a hundred missing children’s cases without being aware of the statistic that the media loved to throw out there. And don’t think the dread hadn’t hit her hard last night at around eleven p.m. when that forty-eight-hour mark had passed and they still didn’t have a single clue to Tricia’s whereabouts. “I’m well aware what statistics say, but for now—”

  Walsh didn’t let her finish her thought. “At what point do you think the investigation will shift from kidnapping to homicide?”

  Kate clenched her hands into fists. “I can hardly speculate on how Sheriff Kovac will handle the investigation on an ongoing basis. Right now there is no evidence that leads us to believe Tricia is anything but alive. We’re all focused on finding her and getting her home safe. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Kate pushed past, taking petty satisfaction at the reporter’s grunt when Kate’s shoulder knocked into her.

  At this hour the volunteer headquarters was empty except for the two middle-age women—more friends of Sylvia Ibarra—who had volunteered to pull the graveyard shift on the tip line.

  Kate smiled a good morning and asked how the night had gone.

  “We got nothing from midnight to four,” said the one with a salt-and-pepper bob. “Then, just in the past two hours, we got dozens.”

  “People have called all the way from Chicago,” the other woman said. “We logged everything into the database, just like you showed us.”

  “Great, I’ll take a look.” Kate opened her laptop and logged in. Of course CJ would have the final say on which leads he pursued, but Kate had enough experience to do a first pass and filter out the truly useless calls.

  She looked at her screen and sighed heavily as she took in the amount of data she had to sift through. Of course, it was great that people had responded to the pleas for information. But Kate knew from experience that most of the calls would gain them nothing. Some were merely mistaken, thinking they’d seen the victims when they hadn’t. Others were certifiably insane, calling in with crazy stories of alien abductions and demonic possessions.

  And then there were the real sickos, the ones who called in with lurid, disgusting stories about what they were doing to the victim, getting off on sharing their twisted fantasies with people who were unlikely to hang up on them.

  Those were all the ones who called when there was little or no reward offered. With the money John had put up, likely a lot more people were thinking they saw something of interest if it would net them nearly a quarter of a million dollars.

  “Let’s see if we can find a needle in a haystack,” she said softly to herself, and began to read.

  As Kate scrolled through the log, she was relieved to see that while there were two alien abduction stories and one alleged sighting of Bigfoot near where Tricia was last seen, there were no psycho fantasy calls.

  She marked one call, from a woman in Missoula who thought she’d seen Tricia last night at an all-night diner. Over the next hour and half she pored over the data, trying to keep disappointment from overwhelming her when nothing promising materialized.

  She wondered if Tommy had discovered any more information about Tricia’s cyberfriends. She damn well hoped so, since John Q. Public didn’t seem to be coming forward with anything useful.

  Her phone rang and she answered it on the first ring, hoping it was Tommy with an update.

  But instead of Tommy’s deep rumble, it was John’s voice on the other line. “I wanted to check in and see if there was any news.”

  “There’s good news and bad news,” Kate said, telling herself the only reason she was disappointed it wasn’t Tommy on the other line was because she wanted information, not because after fourteen years his voice still made her stomach do cartwheels. “The good news is that the reward you offered has generated a lot of calls. The bad news is that some of those callers think Tricia has been carried off by Bigfoot.”

  He let out a guffaw on the other end. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly stifling the laugh. “I guess there are a lot of crazies out there.”

  Kate gave a weary chuckle. “Yo
u have no idea.”

  “I’m sorry I won’t be able to join the search party today,” he said. “I’m working on a development up in Bonner and have a bunch of fires to put out.”

  “Don’t worry, we have fifty volunteers registered to participate.”

  “Good, I just hate sitting around doing nothing.”

  “You put up several hundred thousand dollars for a reward. That’s hardly nothing.”

  “It’s easy to throw money at a problem when you have a lot of it,” John said with the casual arrogance of someone who has never been anything but extremely wealthy.

  “That may be so, but it means the world to the family, and to me too. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Thank me by having dinner with me tonight,” he said. “You remember Magda, our housekeeper? She’s still an amazing cook, and I’ve moved half of my wine cellar up from Denver.”

  Kate had an uncomfortable image of a candlelit table and crystal goblets filled with red wine. Though he hadn’t given her any overt signal that he was attracted to her, Kate couldn’t help wondering if whatever crush he’d had on her all those years ago might still be there.

  She hoped not, because her lack of feelings in that direction hadn’t changed. She hated the idea of injecting that kind of awkwardness into their otherwise drama-free friendship. “I don’t think dinner is a great idea, given the circumstances—”

  “Lunch then. Come on, you’ll need a break.”

  “Lunch,” she agreed. They settled on a time, and though Kate didn’t feel a hundred percent right about the idea of having lunch with an old friend when she was supposed to be helping with the search for Tricia, if a meal with her was the only thanks John wanted for ponying up the reward, she couldn’t be so rude as to refuse him.

  CJ and two of his deputies arrived shortly after she hung up. They didn’t have time for more than a quick hello before the volunteer searchers began to arrive. Kate and the deputies were busy registering everyone, checking IDs, and making sure everyone looked into one of the surveillance cameras Tommy had installed.

 

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