Guilty as Sin (49 page)

She dropped the phone like it was on fire, darted across the room to yank the curtains shut, then went through the rest of the house to make sure every blind was drawn.

She cursed herself for a coward, but she couldn’t make herself pick up the phone and call Tommy back.

Instead she curled on her couch, tuned the TV to a movie channel that guaranteed she wouldn’t be assaulted with images of herself, and wondered how long she could stay holed up in the townhouse before she went completely insane.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait and see. She didn’t pick up the phone the first time he called, cringing at the thought of him seeing the news stories. She braced herself as she listened to his message, but instead of sounding scandalized or judgmental, John’s voice tone was purely sympathetic.

Hey, I saw the news and wanted you to know that I’m here for you a hundred percent. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.

Touched, Kate called him back, figuring he deserved a thank-you if nothing else. When he offered for her to come stay with him, initially she’d refused. “There’s a swarm of
reporters at my front door,” she said. “And no offense, but the last thing I need right now is for them to put out a story of me spending the night at yet another man’s house.”

John chuckled. “I see your point. But what if I could sneak you out without them seeing?”

So they’d hatched a plan for Kate to sneak through the sliding glass door that was one level down from the main entrance on the side of the house that faced the lake. From there it was a short walk down to a spot on the beach where John could pick her up in his boat.

Kate didn’t realize how trapped she’d felt in the townhouse until John started motoring to his dock. With the cool evening air on her cheeks and pulling her hair from its ponytail, she felt like she was able to take her first deep breath since she’d left Erin’s restaurant that afternoon.

After she’d deposited her overnight bag in one of the many bedrooms, Kate joined John on the deck, where he waited with a glass of wine and a platter of sandwich fixings. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had dinner yet,” John said, gesturing to the platter. “Magda’s off for the evening, and I’m afraid sandwiches are about the extent of my culinary capabilities.”

Kate couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, but the thought of food made her stomach twist with revulsion. “I’m not hungry, but thanks.” She took the proffered glass of wine and nearly vomited up the first sip of Pinot Grigio the second it hit her stomach.

She settled in one of the teak armchairs and set the glass on the table beside her.

“You should drink that,” John said, settling into the chair next to her. “You deserve a little something after what happened today.”

She thought she detected an edge to his voice but couldn’t be sure. “I don’t think my stomach is up to much of anything
right now. It’s been crazy—first Tricia and then—” She stopped herself, realizing she was about to slip the news of the necklace. “And then this thing in the press…” She trailed off weakly.

“Is it true?” This time there was no mistaking the edge in his voice. “Have you and Tommy rekindled your little romance?”

Kate’s shoulders stiffened at his snide tone. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for me to come here,” she said, and started to push to her feet.

John stayed her with a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was rude of me. But just because I accepted that whatever torch I’ve been carrying for you will never go anywhere, that doesn’t mean I don’t get a little jealous, thinking of you with him.”

Kate tried not to notice the way his hand lingered on the bare skin of her forearm or the way his thumb was tracing slow circles on the skin of her wrist.

To her relief, he dropped his hand. “Let’s talk about something else,” he said, and took a sip of wine. “Is there any progress in the case? Do I need to get my checkbook out?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Good news is, Tricia is out of the woods, health wise.”

“Has she given them a description of the guy who took her?”

Kate hesitated before answering. While she trusted John, she knew too well how harmful a seemingly small confidence could be. “Right now they’re focused on getting her strength up before they start hammering her with questions.”

“Hopefully she’ll give the police something soon. I imagine whoever did this is busy covering his tracks.”

Kate’s stomach churned at the thought of whoever did this to Tricia—and possibly killed those other girls and maybe even Michael too—slipping through their fingers.

The stress of the day bore down on her, the weight of her crumbling world threatening to crush her. “I really appreciate you giving me a break from the craziness outside my front door. But I’m afraid I’m really terrible company tonight. I really think I should just call it a night.”

She was grateful when John didn’t protest or act offended even though it wasn’t yet nine o’clock. “Get some rest. I suspect you’ll need all your reserves to get through the next few days.”

Kate bid him good night and retreated to her room. The day had taken its toll both physically and emotionally, but every time she closed her eyes, her mind started racing with questions that had no answers.

Eventually the questions stopped, but still she could find no rest. Because even worse than the endless questions was what replaced them: Tommy.

Memories of him, both past and recent, played in her head on an endless loop. Tommy at age sixteen, howling like Tarzan as he swung out into the lake on a rope swing, taunting Kate mercilessly until she did the same.

Their first kiss, the explosive discovery of how much pleasure she could feel at the slightest brush of his lips.

A pleasure that was nothing compared to what she’d found in his bed the night before. Mind blowing, world altering, all the more powerful because it went so far beyond physical connection. The memory of Tommy looking into her eyes, his features pulled tight with pleasure as he drove her over the edge, brought a pain to her chest so fierce she felt tears leak from the corners of her eyes.

Once started, they wouldn’t stop, an endless stream fueled by the memories of his reluctant smiles. The conviction in his voice when he held her in his arms and told her he wanted the Kate she’d become and so carefully traced the faint scar on her wrist.

Kate finally drifted into a fitful sleep. She awoke, gritty eyed and foggy headed, unable to escape the nagging sense that she was going to regret pushing Tommy away for the rest of her life.

She dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen to bolster herself with some caffeine. Magda was at the sink, and Kate brushed off her offer to get coffee for her.

“Mr. Burkhart told me to tell you he’s sorry he cannot stay for breakfast, but he has many meetings this morning.”

“That’s okay,” Kate said truthfully. She wasn’t up to morning chitchat. She finished her cup of coffee and politely refused Magda’s offer to make her breakfast. Her stomach was too twisted up to make room for food.

“You need anything from grocery store? I go soon.”

Kate said no and thanked her. After she left, Kate headed out to the lake, hoping the fresh air would help clear her head. As she walked aimlessly along the shore, thoughts of Tommy consumed her.

Now, after the initial shock of seeing Maura Walsh’s report had passed, several things became very, very clear. The press could say whatever they wanted about her and Tommy, drag them through the mud until they’d covered every salacious angle.

But that didn’t change the fact that she loved him. A deep, passionate love that had survived a terrible tragedy and over a decade of separation but was still there, right underneath the surface. Just waiting to be set free.

More than that, she needed him. Needed him to stand by her side and have her back and hold her at night and tell her everything would be okay. Needed the peace she found in his arms and the excitement she found in his bed to make her feel whole in a way she never had.

And she knew with gut-deep certainty that she would
need his help in the coming weeks, months, however long it took her to find out the truth of what happened to Michael. Not just his skill as an investigator. She needed
him
. Needed his strong, steady presence, his voice rumbling in her ear as he assured her that he was there for her, that he’d never turn his back on her.

She brushed away the tears that streamed down her cheeks, ashamed of how she’d turned on him so quickly, instinctively pushing him away instead of grabbing on and holding tight. Instead of realizing the truth, that whether she ended their relationship or not, the press was going to play the story out for as long as it had legs. In fact, her outburst had no doubt added more fuel to the fire.

But there was an even more basic truth. One that had nothing to do with her reputation.

The truth was that Tommy stirred something up inside of her that she’d never come close to feeling for another human being. Something that made her well up with happiness at the sight of him, something that made her feel like she was lit up from the inside every time he touched her.

And even more mind blowing was that he felt the same way about her.

And even though the things he made her feel were so powerful they were scary, the way they made her throw caution to the wind and act in ways she didn’t realize she was capable of, she also knew he had the potential to make her happier than she’d ever dreamed. With Tommy, she had the chance to be happier than most people on the planet had ever dreamed.

She knew that, down to her very core. And if a tragedy like what had happened to Michael couldn’t destroy that conviction, she would be an idiot to let a publicity-hungry bitch like Walsh destroy it.

She turned back toward the house, full of renewed purpose, her chest swelling with hope that Tommy would accept her apology and they could get back on track. Doubts nipped at the back of her mind. He’d already been burned by her choosing the need to avoid scandal over him. The man Tommy had become didn’t seem big on multiple chances.

She continued down the beach, heart in her throat, mentally scripting exactly how she was going to beg for Tommy’s forgiveness. She reached the steps leading to John’s deck and was distracted by the figure of a man sitting hunched over a few feet past the wooden staircase, hidden in the shadows.

Panic leapt in her throat a split second before she recognized Magda’s son, Christian. His gaze was focused on his cupped hands, and Kate heard the telltale electronic bleeps and blips of some kind of game device. He was so engrossed in his play he didn’t even register her approach until Kate called out a greeting.

He jumped up, startled. Instead of saying hello, he darted out from under the deck saying “I’ll put it back. Please don’t tell” over and over, casting furtive looks at her over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell who?” Kate asked.

At that moment Christian caught his foot on a log partially hidden in the sand. He went sprawling and the game device arced up in the air to land a few feet from Kate.

She picked it up, ignoring his panicked protests. “I’m sure it will still work,” Kate said as she brushed the sand off. The device was an older one, she realized, with a black-and-white screen and actual buttons to push instead of a touch screen.

Her heart twisted as she recognized that it was very similar to the one Michael had played with so often that summer that they’d joked it was going to graft onto his palm. Then she turned it and felt all the blood rush from her head as she saw the tiny block letters written in permanent marker along the base.

Though time and wear had rubbed some of the ink away, at that moment Kate would have bet her life that it read “PROPERTY OF MICHAEL BECKETT.”

In that instant he snatched it from her hand and sprinted down the beach.

“Come back here,” Kate shouted as she ran after him. “Tell me what you’re doing with that!”

Christian pounded down the boat dock. Kate followed suit, her heart thudding in her ears. He ducked into the boat house at the end of the dock.

It took Kate’s eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dark interior, but she saw him in the far corner in front of a chest that held boating and safety equipment. Carefully making her way around the three-foot-wide platform that surrounded John’s 25 foot cruiser, Kate came up behind Christian just as he was closing the lid to a small wooden case tucked inside the chest.