Guilty as Sin (13 page)

“I might have only spent two years there, but I think the FBI gave me a better foundation than most guys in my position. I appreciate your help with this, Tommy, I really do, but I can’t have you inserting yourself into every aspect of this case.” So back the fuck off. No misreading the subtext there.

Even as he told himself it wasn’t worth it to get into a pissing match, Tommy felt his chest spread, his stance widening as he squared up against CJ.

“Neither CJ nor I have the ability to get into the user information,” Kate said, flicking her glance nervously between the men, tuned into the tension fogging the room.
“So it makes more sense for you to keep digging while we talk to Jackson, right?”

“Right,” Tommy said. Of course she was right. But that still didn’t take the sting out of watching her head for the door, CJ at her side.

And it damn sure didn’t keep his hands from clenching into fists at the way CJ guided her to the front door with a proprietary hand on her back and the way Kate seemed to have no problem with it.

Kate paused before she stepped out the door, looking over her shoulder as she asked, “You’ll let us know as soon as you find out anything?”

“Of course,” Tommy replied. He should have been proud of himself for keeping his voice neutral, his expression impassive.

Instead, as he watched CJ walk her to her car, say something that made her smile as he opened her door and got her settled inside, he was disgusted with himself and the wave of resentment he couldn’t keep at bay.

“What was up with that?” Kate asked after Tommy shut his heavy wooden door behind them with enough force for her to feel the vibration in the poured-concrete steps.

CJ shook his head with a grimace and guided her down the walkway, his hand resting companionably on her shoulder. “Tommy’s a great guy, and I really do need his help, especially with this computer shit. But he needs to back off.”

“From what I remember Tommy’s pretty forceful,” Kate said, flashing back to the way he’d pursued her years ago. “A lot about him seems to have changed since I saw him last, but not that.”

“No, he’s still about as subtle as a battering ram.” CJ grinned.

Kate couldn’t help but return the grin as she climbed into her rental. As she followed CJ out of the gate, she couldn’t help thinking there was something more than standard male posturing going on. Though Tommy had become a master at keeping his thoughts from showing on his face, Kate could feel a subtle shift in the room when she and CJ started to leave.

Together.

It wasn’t anything major, a sharpening of his features, of the energy coming from his big, broad body. An electric crackle that something was going on that he didn’t like.

Almost like he was jealous.

Jesus, Kate, get over yourself, she thought, and tried to convince herself the idea didn’t thrill her a little.

Maybe you had a little moment back there, but that doesn’t mean Tommy gives two shits if you go off with CJ or anyone else.

Not to mention, you have far more important things to worry about. Tommy was probably just concerned for his friend and client. No doubt he felt responsible, not just because of their relationship, but because they’d come to visit at Tommy’s suggestion. Kate understood all too well how that overdeveloped sense of responsibility could make you want to be involved at every level, take in every detail as it unfolded, whether that was the most useful way to spend your time or not.

Whatever frustration he felt, she was flattering herself if she thought it had anything to do with any lingering spark on his part.

Twenty minutes later, Kate parked her car behind CJ’s cruiser in Jackson Fuller’s driveway. Tracy answered the door. “I’d ask if there was any news, but I’m sure Jackson would be the first to hear if there were.”

CJ nodded. “Nothing substantial, but we wanted to give Jackson a quick update on the search efforts.” Tricia’s online activity needed to be kept out of the press for now.

Tracy motioned them toward the office. “I’m heading out now, but there’s lasagna in the oven and a salad to go with it. If you could convince Jackson and Brooke to eat some of it, you’d be doing them a great service.”

Kate followed CJ down the hall, and as she passed the kitchen the mouthwatering aroma of the lasagna made her stomach lurch with hunger.

“Maybe we should have stopped for a sandwich on the way,” CJ said with a smile as he raised his hand to knock on the closed door.

He opened the door when summoned. Jackson stood in the middle of the room, in front of the window facing the lake. The late-afternoon light shadowed his blunt features, making him look more haggard than he had just a few hours ago.

They sat down and CJ quickly explained what they’d discovered in Tricia’s deleted files.

Jackson buried his face in his hands. “Jesus, Tommy offered to put spyware on the girls’ computers and phones ages ago. My wife was against it—she didn’t think it was right to invade their privacy. And now this sicko was tracking her—”

“We don’t know that for sure,” CJ broke in. “The conversations themselves aren’t suspicious, but we’ll know more once Tommy is able to ID the computer address and the network.”

Jackson’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “So it’s either a break in the case or nothing,” he said, frustration making his voice tight. “Goddamn it, when are you going to come to me with something real?” His fist crashed down on a side
table, sending the chess board that had been set up there crashing to the floor.

“I know it’s frustrating,” Kate said. “And I wish we could give you more answers, but we thought it was important to let you know what we’ve found out so far.”

“Right,” Jackson said tightly. “It’s just driving me crazy, not knowing. After I left you I drove clear to Coeur D’Alene and stopped at every store and gas station in between to put up flyers and see if anyone had any information. But it’s like we’re just spinning our wheels and she’s still out there—”

His voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears. Kate felt her own eyes burn in sympathy as she crossed to him and placed her hand on his arm. Under his skin, she could feel the muscles vibrating with effort to hold his emotions in check. She wanted to tell him to let go, that it was okay to break down.

But she sensed that like the man Tommy had become, Jackson Fuller wasn’t one to give free rein to his emotions, especially not in front of an audience.

“Tracy left dinner for you. Why don’t you go get Brooke and see if she’ll come sit with us. I think we could all use a bite to eat.”

Jackson shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Kate said, taking his arm in her hand and tugging him firmly to the door. “Right now you’re going on nothing but adrenaline and anxiety, and that will only get you so far. You need to keep your strength up. Not just for Tricia—you have another daughter too,” she reminded him a little too forcefully.

Jackson gave a heavy sigh but allowed Kate to shoo him out of the office. He paused on the way to the kitchen at the foot of the stairs and called up. “Brooke, come down and have some supper.”

Silence.

As he trudged heavily up the stairs, Kate and CJ went to the kitchen and busied themselves getting dinner out and setting the table. From upstairs, she could hear the rap of Jackson’s fist on the door and the low murmur of voices.

She wasn’t entirely surprised when Jackson returned alone. “She won’t come down.”

They ate in silence, and after Kate was satisfied Jackson had eaten enough to keep him going, she and CJ cleared the table.

“When did Tommy say he’d have news?” Jackson asked as he walked them to the door.

“He said it could take several hours,” CJ said. “You should try to get some rest. We’ll call you as soon as we know anything more.”

“Rest?” Jackson said with a snort of disgust. His shoulders straightened, and for a moment Kate got a glimpse of the harassed military man he once had been. “Think you’d be able to rest if your fourteen-year-old daughter disappeared and you had no idea where she was?”

Two slashes of red appeared on CJ’s cheekbones, and he unconsciously straightened to attention. “I’m sure I wouldn’t, sir. I apologize for suggesting it.”

“We’ll speak soon,” Kate said, and impulsively reached up to give Jackson a hug. He jerked a little in surprise at first, then returned the embrace, his arms almost desperately tight around her as though trying to absorb whatever comfort he could get. By the time he let her go, Kate’s eyes were wet again, thinking about the long, sleepless night he would spend.

She and CJ bypassed the press with curt “no comments.” But when Kate got to her car, she realized she’d left her purse in the kitchen. She waved CJ off and hurried back up the walkway.

She knocked lightly and tried the knob. It was unlocked so she let herself in. There was no sign of Jackson, who must have retreated to the office once again.

As she went to the kitchen, she saw a girl sitting at the kitchen table, staring sightlessly out the window, a plate of salad sitting untouched in front of her. Dark, straight hair hung to the middle of her back, and her slim, tanned arms were shown off by a bright green tank top. Kate immediately recognized Brooke from the pictures that had been flashed around the news.

Kate said her name and got no response. As she walked closer to the table, she saw the telltale white cords coming out from under her ears and realized she was wearing earbuds.

Kate waved, trying to catch her attention.

Brooke let out a little shriek and jumped about a foot, knocking over her chair in the process. “What are you doing here?” she said as she fumbled with her iPod. She stood with her arms folded around her stomach, as if she was trying to keep herself from flying apart.

“I’m Kate Beckett,” Kate said, and held out her hand. Brooke accepted, and though her hand was small and chilled, her grip was surprisingly firm.

“I know,” Brooke said simply. “I’ve seen you on the news.”

Kate nodded.

“I was obsessed with the Madeline Drexler case,” she said. “You were all over that.”

Kate’s shoulders tightened. “Yes, I got very involved with the case and Madeline’s family.”

Brooke cocked her eyebrow and studied her in the way only a teenage girl could, with the kind of utter disdain that came from the false confidence that you knew everything.

“A lot of people think it’s your fault she was killed,” she said.

No matter how many times Kate heard it, it never failed to stab her straight through the chest. “I made a mistake and trusted the wrong person. But I never purposely did anything to hurt Madeline. I did everything I could to get her back safe. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty though.”

Brooke blinked and, when she opened her eyes, the teenage arrogance was gone, giving way to an expression that could only be described as tortured. “I didn’t think it was your fault—what happened to Madeline. It’s nobody’s fault but that sick pig who took her. He’s the one who took her. He’s the one who killed her, right? Not you? Right?”

Brooke’s voice raised in pitch with every syllable, and Kate could tell by the desperate look on her face she needed something, anything, to help convince her that it wasn’t her fault that her sister was kidnapped, hurt, possibly even dead.

Despite Tricia’s description of Brooke’s mean-girl antics, Kate’s heart ached like a big bruise in her chest. She knew exactly how Brooke felt, knew that no matter whether deserved or not, she would always blame herself, always have the guilt eating away at her like acid. And she knew that even if she didn’t believe it, she needed someone to tell her it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t a horrible person who allowed her sister to be hurt.

“Of course he was ultimately to blame. Just as whoever took Tricia is to blame for whatever happens to her.”

Brooke nodded, but the look in her eyes told her she didn’t believe Kate for a second. “Have you found anything else about where she could be?” the girl asked.

Kate debated the wisdom of revealing their latest findings to Brooke and decided to go for it. “We found chat logs from a bulletin board for kids who have lost their parents.”

Even guilt and grief stricken, Brooke couldn’t restrain from rolling her eyes. “I told Tricia she should get some real friends instead of hanging out online with a bunch of whiny losers.”