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Authors: Dani Matthews

WHO KILLED EMMALINE? (11 page)

BOOK: WHO KILLED EMMALINE?
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* * *

“You
what?
” Sidney practically shrieks in my ear.

I’m staring up at my bedroom ceiling, and I wince. “You heard me,” I say miserably. I’d called Sidney the moment I’d come home and gone up to my room. “It’s like all common sense deserted me.”

She snorts. “Now do you understand why I end up having sex even though it’s usually not my intention at the beginning of the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Kris, it was just a onetime thing, right? Tell me you’re not going to start seeing him or something stupid like that.”

I’m caught off guard by the concern in her tone. Sidney is one of those types who rarely has regrets or worries over a decision. She acts first, thinks later. It’s rare for her to even worry about someone else’s decision making. “Why do you ask?” I ask curiously.

“He’s a murder suspect. I told you to get laid, and you did. Now stay away from him.”

“Sid, I don’t think he did it.”


Think
, Krista. You
think
he’s innocent. What if you’re wrong?”

There’s nothing I can say that would be able to argue her point. The only people that know the truth are Emmaline—who is dead—and Cord.

“Don’t you dare fall for him,” Sidney orders sharply.

“You’re overreacting. He doesn’t even talk to me that much, and he’s only sticking around because of Riley. It was just sex, that’s all. The mood was just weird tonight, and then he caught me in that corset… It happened, and now it’s over.”

“Okay, good,” she says, sounding relieved. “So how was the sex?”

“Really good,” I confess.

“Damn girl. I thought I was the adventurous one, but you’ve got me beat by screwing your boss in a fitting room.”

“Shit,” I say under my breath. I’d forgotten that Cord is technically one of my bosses. I am so relieved that I don’t work until Saturday. That is if I still have a job. I didn’t see Dane on my way out tonight, so there’s still the chance he might pull me aside Saturday and let me go.

“What?” Sidney asks, referring to my curse.

“I forgot that Cord is my boss, too,” I explain.

“Hey, can you snap a picture of him on your phone and send it to me?” she asks hopefully.

“Why?”

“I want to see what this guy looks like. He sounds hot.”

“He is.”

“I want to see for myself.”

“I am
not
taking a photo of him.” In fact, it might be a good idea if I take a break from him and get my head screwed back on tightly. I seem to lose my head when I’m around him.

Nine

The next day, I spend lunch hour in the library. I feel kind of bad for ditching Cord, but I need to sort things out in my head before I see him again. I really need to get a handle on my attraction for him, because what happened last night can’t happen again.

I’m probably overreacting since Cord made it very clear that what went on in that fitting room was all about sexual gratification and nothing more. I just don’t typically engage in casual sex with guys I barely know, so now it’s a struggle for me to sort out how to act around him when I see him next. I’m sure deliberately ignoring him is probably further complicating the already awkward situation.

Sometimes, I wish I was more like Sidney.

Oddly enough, I manage to get through the entire day without ever crossing paths with Cord. Either I’m really good at this avoidance thing, or he doesn’t want to see me, either. The last thought stings, but I know it’s for the best.

When school lets out for the day, I’m not expecting to find Cord leaning lazily against my car, hands in his jeans pockets, his backpack at his feet. Looks like only one of us was doing the avoiding today, and I am better at it than I thought if it took him until now to track me down.

Is it bad that I am secretly pleased that he’s sought me out?

As I approach him, I ignore the other students watching us curiously and battle back a blush. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what Cord looks like without his shirt or what’s beneath those jeans of his.

Cord’s green eyes lock on mine, and there is not a hint of amusement in his gaze today. “I didn’t take you for the type to run.”

I pause in front of him, taken aback by his comment. “Excuse me?”

His lips tighten. “You once told me that I didn’t scare you. Was that a lie?”

This is not the kind of conversation I’d envisioned we’d be having. I figured he would be the first to initiate a conversation—and I was correct, but I’d assumed he’d avoid the topic of sex or anything serious. He’s always so good at brushing off conversations that are veering off to the more serious side of things.

I step closer to him, frowning. “You don’t scare me. I don’t think you ever have.”

His eyes search mine. “Then why avoid me?”

Well, looks like avoiding the topic is no longer an option. “I had sex with my boss, and my other boss knows it. What part of that isn’t awkward?” I ask dryly.

He looks momentarily confused. “That’s it? You’re embarrassed?”

“Yeah.”

A lazy smile forms across his lips. “You really think we’re the first ones to have sex in the fitting rooms?”

“You mean…? People actually do that?”

“We did,” he points out with a deliberate smirk. “And yes, they do. Watch for the couples that seem overly excited,”

“Good to know.” I study him. “How often do you do what we did?”

A dark brow lifts upward. “Have sex?”

“I meant have sex in the fitting rooms.”

“Only once. With you,” he says simply.

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t typically mess around at work. I take Cordane’s very seriously.”

“Then why with me?” I can’t resist asking.

Cord looks around, taking in the students that are still lingering in the parking lot. “Are we really going to sort this shit out here?”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

His attention shifts back to me, and his eyes search mine. “Would you want to see where Dane and I live?”

There’s no way I am going to turn down the opportunity to have a real conversation with him. “Okay,” I agree.

He immediately reaches for his backpack and then straightens up. “Want to ride with me or follow in your own car?”

“I’ll follow.”

Cord lives on the opposite side of town, and it’s a very rural area. As I follow his van up a narrow driveway, I note that it looks like the Bodine brothers live right next to Elroy Lake. When we approach an old, two-story home, I see that there’s a short trail leading down a sandy incline to where the lake water lazily stirs against the sand. A picnic table that’s seen better days is just below the slope, about five feet from the water.

I climb out of my car and study the glistening lake water. It’s very tranquil here. I’m not quite sure what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t a house by the lake.

Cord walks over. “The lake is what we like best about this place. Dane was going to put in a dock at one point, but then Cordane’s took off and has been keeping both of us busy ever since.”

I glance at him, smiling. “It’s very serene out here. I bet you do a lot of drawing at that picnic table.”

He gives me a genuine smile. “I spend a lot of time down there,” he agrees.

My attention turns to focus on his home, and I gaze up at the two-story structure. There is nothing warm about it, and it looks unappealing. The house structure is simplistic and square-like without any attachments or high points arching upwards. The siding is a dark brown, and there is a sliding glass doorway on the left, then to the right side of the house is a simple, single doorway. Above is an old wooden balcony that spans the top half, giving it at least a little semblance of character, but not much.

Nothing has been said about the Bodine brothers’ parents, so I’d naturally assumed they reside in a bachelor pad. It’s very evident that not much effort has gone into the outside maintenance of this home.

“It’s not much to look at, but you can’t beat the close proximity to the lake,” Cord says lightly.

“I like it. It’s simple but has character,” I tell him, because it does have character—just not the normal kind. It feels sad, kind of lonely to me, but I certainly won’t share that with him.

“Want a tour? It won’t be much of one, but I can still show you around if you want,” he offers.

“I’d like that.”

Cord leads me to the single doorway, and we step inside into a kitchen. The tiling is dark gray, and the walls are white. The cupboards and appliances are also white, and the counter tops are a gray. Dark green curtains add a little color to the dreary kitchen, and a few other green accents are placed here and there. It is definitely a bachelor pad. As my gaze roams over the room, I see an old, wooden dining room table on the other side of the room near the patio doors.

I’m led a few steps towards the living room, and I like how open the first floor is. You can see everything, and the only divider is a huge, brick fireplace in the center of the living room that is attached to the ceiling. A flat-screen TV is secured to the brick wall above the fireplace. Brown couches are situated around the edge of the room, and on the other side, in the corner, is a narrow stairwell that leads up to the second floor.

“Dane has the bedroom upstairs, and mine is in the basement next to our prep room—where we work on some of the projects here at the house.” He turns and leads me to a doorway in the kitchen, and he opens it. There’s a set of stairs going down into total blackness. Cord flips the switch on the wall next to the door, and the stairwell immediately lights up. “Careful, the stairs are steep,” he warns.

I nod, and we both make our way down the creaking stairwell. When we reach the bottom, Cord turns on another light, and I look around with interest. The room is large, and there’s a lot of equipment and machinery along the edges of the room. There’s a great deal of narrow shelves on the walls containing plenty of horror props. Three tables also take up space in the center of the room, and I can see tools scattered along their surfaces. Two round stands are on one of the tables, and it looks like a plastic covered mannequin head is situated on each one.

“This is where we make masks and prosthetics when we’re not at the warehouse.”

“Do you make stuff all year round or just for Halloween?” I ask curiously.

“All year. I design and sculpt when an idea hits. My room is down here.” He turns and walks down a narrow hallway. We pass what looks like a small bathroom, then Cord walks through an open doorway and turns on a light. Instead of regular light brightening up the darkness, his room glows red.

I stand in the doorway, peering around with interest. The carpet is black, and the walls are the same dark gray that the kitchen is painted. Black curtains cover what looks like a small window, and all the furniture in his room is dark or black. A black comforter adorns his bed, and sewn into it is a large skull design that is grinning evilly. A life-like sculpture of a skull sits on his dresser, and a shelf spans all the way across one wall, hovering about two feet beneath the ceiling. There are at least two dozen scary masks sitting on stands. I recall the rumors about him and Emmaline, and I try not to think about whether or not those are the masks Cord had worn.

“Why red?” I blurt, wanting to distract myself from the thoughts swirling around in my head.

“I just like the way it sets the mood. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I thrive on anything that looks remotely creepy or ominous,” he muses.

“Well, your room is definitely strange,” I agree.

“C’mon, let’s grab something to drink, and we’ll go down by the lake,” he suggests.

I’m definitely ready to go back upstairs, and I nod as he leads the way back through the basement and up to the kitchen. He snags a couple cans of soda from the refrigerator, and then we settle on the picnic table near the lake’s edge.

Cord turns his head and gazes out over the water. “You asked why you.”

When we’d arrived here, I’d assumed he’d forget all about my original question, so I am surprised that he’s diving straight in. I set aside my soda so I can fully focus on him. “Yes, I am a little curious,” I say tentatively.

His eyes shift to me, and he gives me a half-shrug. “For one, you’re not scared of me. And second, you seem to actually
see
me. I’m not a freak, or someone you’re embarrassed to be seen with. You’re not into games, either. I like that.”

So he
does
feel something for me. “Why did you act like the kiss at the warehouse didn’t matter?”

He looks momentarily uncomfortable, his eyes sliding to the water. “Because it wasn’t supposed to.”

“I see.”

His eyes abruptly zero in on mine again. “But it did, Krista. I’ve been trying to figure out whether I want to act on this thing between us or not, because it’s distracting as hell. I’m going to be honest here, there’s a part of me that wants to walk away and not look back.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to grow to care for you, and then have you decide you can’t handle me. I’m fine with who I am, and I’m not going to change.” He leans forward slightly, his expression turning more intense. “I like horror, guts, and all that shit. I’ll spend
hours
designing a mask, and if you’re around me during that time, I’ll tune your ass out until I’m done working on it. I’m not a socializer, and if you’re looking for a guy to take you out on dates, I’m not him. I like one on one time, like this. I also saw the way you looked at the masks in my room, Krista. I have put hours into them, and you looked put off by them.” He rubs his face. “This entire conversation is pointless.”

I watch him closely as I absently pick at a nail that’s been pounded into the wooden surface of the table. “Why is it pointless?” I ask quietly.

“You don’t even like what I’m into, and it’s my life.” He grimaces, raking a hand through his hair as his mouth turns down in the corners. “This is why I don’t do this shit. It’s way too early to even be having a conversation like this.”

“Then why are we?”

He glares at me. “Because I’d rather cut you out of my life now before I actually really start to care.”

I quit picking at the nail. “Sounds like you already have your mind made up.”

I’m not sure what to think of this conversation. I never expected Cord to ever want anything more to do with me other than keeping an eye on me to spite Riley. This is unexpected, and I haven’t even decided if I want to know him outside of Cordane’s and school.

Cord looks oddly disgruntled by my comment. “So it really was just sex to you?”

His question cuts into my thoughts, catching me off guard. “Wasn’t it for you?” I quickly interject. Before I start sharing what I’m thinking, I want to get an idea as to where his own head is at.

“Yes and no. You?” he asks, his eyes probing mine.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Cord, I don’t really want to get into this if you’ve already decided this isn’t worth trying to figure out.”

“If I didn’t want to figure it out, we wouldn’t be here right now. Yeah, I want to walk away from it, but my ass is still planted here on the picnic table, right? So is yours. I need to know what you’re thinking or we might as well stop this conversation now before it goes any further.”

“Okay, just give me a sec,” I murmur as I try to pull together my thoughts. I draw in a deep breath and then exhale as I meet his gaze. “Okay, you’re right. This conversation is happening too early, but it’s nice to get it out of the way instead of both of us wondering what the other is thinking.”

“This is definitely not how I intended for the day to go,” Cord mutters.

“How was it supposed to go?” I ask curiously.

BOOK: WHO KILLED EMMALINE?
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