Guilty as Sin (16 page)

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. “You 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.

CJ was about to lead the first team out when the front door opened.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see you.”

The hardness in CJ’s voice cut through the din of the crowd like a knife, stealing Kate’s attention away from the deputy who was giving her an overview of the search areas they would be focusing on today.

At first she didn’t recognize the slight, dark-haired woman who was pushing her way through the crowd toward her despite CJ’s attempts to stay her.

Her hair was dark, almost black, and cut in short, pixie layers that framed one of the most beautiful faces Kate had ever seen. Dark eyebrows arched over large, thickly lashed gray eyes. Her nose was small and slightly tilted at the tip, giving her an almost elfish look. Her full lips were pressed together, her look uncertain.

“Erin,” Kate said, her stomach flipping over as she matched this lovely young woman with the thirteen-year-old girl who’d tromped down the beach in scraggly cutoffs and a stretched-out tank top selling cookies to whoever would buy them. “It’s been a long time,” she murmured for lack of anything else. What did one say to the niece of the man who’d murdered her brother?

“Erin, come on, why do you have to show up where you know you’re not wanted?” CJ said.

Hurt, raw and deep, flashed in Erin’s eyes at CJ’s cutting voice. She shot CJ a snide look. “Why do you always have to push your way into my business?” she shot back.

The hurt gone in an instant, and Kate was sure she was
the only one who saw it. Sympathy momentarily overrode her bad memories of Erin’s family. Kate hadn’t known Erin well, but she remembered a scrappy, smart girl who was doing what she could to outplay the awful hand she’d been dealt by being born into the notorious Flannery family.

Her only involvement with Michael’s death was being unfortunate enough to be related to the man who’d killed him. “Who says she’s not wanted?” Kate said.

Erin flashed her a quick, grateful smile.

“I brought some pastries and coffee from the restaurant,” Erin said, drawing Kate’s attention to the bags she held in each hand. “It’s too busy right now for me to help with the search effort, but at least I can offer up free food.”

“Thanks,” Kate said with a smile, clearing a space on the table for Erin to put out the food. Kate hadn’t woken up with much of an appetite, but when Erin opened the first box and the scent of fresh-baked croissants wafted through the room, she couldn’t resist.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she bit into a still-warm chocolate croissant. “This is amazing, Erin.”

Erin’s smile brightened. “Thanks. The croissants are kind of my specialty.”

“You make all of this?” Kate asked, impressed at the variety of pastries packed into the four pink boxes Erin had brought.

“Yep, every day, from scratch, ever since I took over for Mary.”

“I didn’t know you were running the cafe.”

“Mary had me take over a couple years ago,” Erin replied with a faintly challenging air. “When she died she left me the deed to the building as well.”

“Based on the line you had out the door yesterday at lunchtime, I’d say Mary made the right choice.”

The search volunteers were similarly enthusiastic about the free food and coffee, crowding around the table and good-naturedly elbowing each other aside to get to their favorites as they sang Erin’s praises.

Only CJ, she noticed, hadn’t eaten a bite. “You’re not having any?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said impatiently.

Erin was restocking the napkin supply, but Kate saw her shoulders stiffen. Something was going on between those two.

“I need to get back,” Erin said. She turned to CJ and held out a small box emblazoned with the restaurant’s name.

“What’s this?” CJ took the small white box gingerly, as though it might contain a rattlesnake.

“It’s for Travis. Raspberry cream cheese croissant. It’s his favorite.”

CJ grunted something that could have passed for thanks.

Erin stared at him hard for a beat, then turned back to Kate. “I’ll bring sandwiches by this afternoon.”

“That won’t be—” CJ began.

“That’s extremely generous of you,” Kate replied, and shot CJ a hard look.

Erin shrugged. “It’s the least I can do,” she said, and held out her hand tentatively, as though she was afraid Kate would refuse it.

Kate clasped it in both hands. “Thank you.”

Erin smiled, though her eyes were suspiciously damp, and Kate felt her own eyes burn with emotion.

After Erin left, Kate turned on CJ. “What was that all about?”

“What?”

“You were really rude to her.”

He stiffened. “I’m sorry if you saw it that way. I was just looking out for you.”

“How do you figure?”

“You really want her dropping by, hanging out, reminding you of what happened?”

Her shoulders tightened with irritation. She didn’t know why she felt so compelled to defend a woman she barely knew and who came from the same family tree as the man who had murdered her brother. Maybe it was because she recognized something in Erin’s stormy gray eyes: a deep sadness mixed with guilt that wasn’t hers to bear but was no less keenly felt. A wariness that came from years of being judged and having people you love push you away.

“The moment I pulled into town, those memories have been front and center,” Kate said ruefully. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s going to take a lot more than Erin Flannery’s offer of muffins to push me over the edge.”

CJ shrugged, having the grace to look a little ashamed. “Sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

CJ gave a noncommittal grunt.

“It’s not her fault she was born into the trashiest family in the county. Looks like she’s managed to turn her life around in spite of that. Maybe you could give her a little credit.”

“I do,” he said defensively. “But a lot of people in this town have long memories and strong opinions. And I hate to see her get hurt.”

Kate shook her head and gave him a quizzical smile. “Seems like you’d accomplish that better by being a little nicer to her.”

“Tried that once,” CJ said curtly, his mouth pulling into a grimace. There was a flash of something on his face—a combination of guilt and regret that told Kate something must have happened between the town’s golden boy and the feisty daughter of the family responsible for most of the
crime in a fifty-mile radius. Whatever it was, CJ didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, though there was no mistaking the fact that the memory caused him obvious distress.

Without thinking, Kate reached out and pulled him into a quick hug. “I know you’re a nice guy, CJ. Sometimes people who haven’t had a lot of kindness in their lives have a hard time accepting it.”

T
ommy stood in the doorway of the volunteer headquarters feeling his jaw clench as he looked over the heads of the volunteers milling around and saw Kate and CJ tucked into a cozy corner, their heads close together as they spoke, acting like they were the only two people in the room.

Unbidden, his stomach burned with the unfamiliar, unwelcome sensation that had overtaken him yesterday when she’d left his house with CJ. The same feeling that had eaten at him every time she smiled and spoke easily with CJ. A sharp contrast to how she eyed Tommy like a nervous cat circling a junkyard dog.

Christ, he was jealous, uneasy in a way he hadn’t been since he was a goddamn clueless teenager, working up the nerve to talk to a girl. Working up the nerve to make a move on Kate when she could have her pick from a crew of good-looking guys her age who were richer, more polished, and way more likely to be approved by daddy dearest than he was.

Part of him—a cowardly, yellow-bellied part of himself he didn’t even realize was in his makeup—wanted to back out the door. He was a fucking idiot for coming here in the first place. Every bit of information he’d discovered could have been easily given over the phone or, hell, even email.
Would have been better if he’d done that if he wanted to keep it safe from prying eyes and curious ears.

But no, for some stupid reason this morning he’d woken tortured by images from his sex-soaked dreams—starring Kate, natch—and an undeniable compulsion to see her in the flesh.

And damned if she didn’t look good, he thought with no small amount of irritation. Not that she was trying that hard, wearing jeans and a green-and-blue plaid shirt, her red-kissed blond hair pulled into a low ponytail that fell midway down her back. Still, Tommy felt his gaze drawn to her bare neck, the pale skin of her throat and the hint of collarbone revealed by her collar.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said, jostling into the backpack slung over Tommy’s shoulder as he passed and jerking him out of his daze. Christ on a stick, this was not the time to indulge in memories of how sweet and smooth the skin of Kate’s throat had been against his lips.

As his gaze locked on the flyer clasped in one of the volunteer’s hands, he fixed his mind on the image of Tricia Fuller and reminded himself that he had an important reason to be here, one that didn’t involve alternately ogling Kate Beckett and indulging in adolescent angst because she seemed to enjoy the handsome sheriff’s company a bit too much for his liking.