Justice for Sara (8 page)

Wednesday, June 5
Noon

When Kat arrived at Cafe Toile, Bitsy was already there. She saw Kat and waved.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kat said when she reached the table. “I thought I remembered how long it would take to get here, but boy was I wrong.” She slid into the booth. “When did traffic in Mandeville become such a nightmare?”

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Bitsy smoothed her napkin across her lap. “I blame all the strip malls.”

Kat glanced around. The restaurant hadn’t changed: booths covered in French toile, the same map-of-Paris wallpaper and black-and-white tile floor. The menu appeared the same as well, fresh salads and imaginative sandwiches, all with a French twist.

“Sara loved this place,” she said softly. “I swear, she used to drag me here almost weekly.”

“I’d forgotten,” Bitsy said. “I should have picked somewhere else.”

She shook her head. “No, this is fine.”

“Do you mind if we order right away?” Bitsy asked, squeezing lemon into her iced tea. “I’ve got a two o’clock. Sorry.”

“No apologies. That’s perfect.”

Bitsy motioned the waitress over. Kat ordered an iced tea and the shrimp remoulade salad. Bitsy ordered as well, then the waitress walked away.

An awkward silence fell between them. A moment before it became excruciating, Bitsy cleared her throat. “How are things? Being back, I mean.”

“About as good as I expected them to be.”

“Cryptic.”

“Trying to be positive.”

Bitsy smoothed her napkin in her lap again, then toyed with her flatware, straightening it. She used to do that, Kat remembered. Fiddle when she was nervous.

Kat told her so, and Bitsy looked surprised. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“How could I not? It used to drive me crazy.”

“The teachers, too.”

“The more nervous you got, the more you’d fiddle. We never got away with anything.”

Bitsy laughed. “Undiagnosed ADHD.”

The waitress brought Kat’s tea. Kat sweetened it, something she had never outgrown. “It was crazy running into you that way,” she said. “Small towns.”

“I was glad you did.”

“Me, too.”

Again they fell silent. Again, Bitsy broke it. “I asked you here for a reason, Kat.”

“Not just to catch up?”

She shook her head. “It’s about Ryan.”

“Benton?”

She nodded. “We’re together.”

Kat thought she had heard her wrong. “Did you say you’re—”

“Together, yes. He and I. We’re engaged.” She held out her hand. A huge rock sparkled on her fourth finger.

R&B Imports. Ryan and Bitsy. Of course. No doubt Bitsy had financed the business. Probably the ring, too.

“We’re getting married over the Fourth of July. In Hawaii. Kauai.”

“You and Ryan. Wow.” She shook her head. “That’s weird, Bits.”

Bitsy stiffened. “Why’s it weird?”

“Last time you mentioned his name was to tell me what a bad guy he was. You warned me to stay away from him.”

“But you didn’t,” she said, the edge in her voice unmistakable. She smoothed her napkin again. Her bangle bracelets clinked together. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Tell me the truth, Kat. Did you come back hoping—”

“God, no.”

“If you hoped to get him back,” she continued, “it’s too late. He’s mine now.”

This conversation felt surreal. Bitsy and Ryan. Together. Her territorial words, the warning in them.

“That ship sailed a long time ago, Bits. I promise you that.”

The waitress arrived with their salads. She set the bowls in front of them. As she moved out of earshot, Bitsy leaned toward her. “You’re saying you have no feelings for him?”

Kat laughed, the sound spontaneous. And incredulous. “None. That’s not what he told you, is it?”

“We don’t keep secrets from each other. Total honesty, always.”

Kat doubted that was completely true, but kept her thoughts to herself. “Then you know why I was there?”

“He told me what you talked about.” She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “But I want to hear it from you.”

“Really? You want me to tell you that your fiancé suggested we kill my sister?”

“That’s not true.”

The words came out low. And angry. Kat sensed that Bitsy would do anything to protect her man.
Anything.
The realization left her uneasy. And wishing she was anyplace but sitting across a table from her.

She pressed on anyway. “Luke Tanner reopened Sara’s murder investigation. Did you know that?”

“Yes.” Bitsy’s hands shook. She dropped them to her lap. “Why, Kat? Why are you doing this to us? Why now?”

“I’m not doing it to
you,
Bits. This is about me. And Sara. It’s about justice for Sara,” she finished softly.

Something like recognition—or shock—crossed Bitsy’s features, then was gone. For the first time, Kat wondered if Bitsy could be her “fan.”

“You always got everything you wanted, Kat. Everything.”

It was her turn to feel shock. “Me? The one who lost everything. Really?”

Bitsy went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “The pretty one. The popular one. You got the grades, the friends. You even got the guy. Then. But now
I
have him.” She pressed her fist to her chest. “Me. Bitsy Cavenaugh, the ugly duckling.”

Kat looked at her, momentarily startled silent. Then she shook her head. “The ugly duckling? I never thought of you that way.”

“Sure, you didn’t. Poor, awkward, uncool Bitsy. That’s why you stopped hanging out with me when we got to high school.”

She hadn’t had any idea Bitsy felt that way. And she couldn’t be more wrong. “You stopped hanging out with me! Because I went off the rails. Started hanging out with a wild crowd and—”

“He didn’t do it,” she said. “He didn’t kill Sara.”

“You’re so certain?”

“I know him, Kat.”

“You didn’t back then.” Kat held her gaze. “He was everything you warned me he was.”

“Don’t make trouble for him.”

“I’m not here to make trouble. For him or anyone else. Unless they’re a murderer. I just want the truth, Bits.”

The truth.
What Bitsy had said a moment ago, about Kat having gotten the guy back then, suddenly registered. “What did you mean, I got the guy back then? You knew I was seeing Ryan?”

“How could I? He told me about the two of you. After we got together.”

He may have, but she had known long before that. This kind of anger and bitterness didn’t spring up from a fresh cut.

This was an old wound.

“You had a crush on him, didn’t you?”

“Stop it. He was cute.
The
cutest. That’s all I meant.”

“You’re the one who told Sara about us.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Were you following us? How’d you do it?”

“Again, you’re being ridiculous. Sara told
me
. I ran into her. She was upset. At the end of her rope, actually. She told me she was thinking of sending you away to school.”

Yes, Sara had been thinking about boarding school, but she wouldn’t have shared that with a teenager. Which meant Bitsy was lying. But why? What difference would it make now?

The truth hit her hard. It would make a difference only if Bitsy had something to hide. Or someone to protect.

Bitsy believed Ryan had killed Sara. Or worried that he might have.

And yet she still defended him. Still planned to marry him. It was sickening to Kat, who pushed away her untouched salad. “I seem to have lost my appetite. I’ll let you buy, Bits.”

Kat collected her purse and stood. Bitsy caught her hand in a viselike grip, stopping her. “Leave him alone, Kat.”

“Sorry, that’s not up to me.”

“We know a lot of people … we have a lot of friends. Ones who will look out for us. They can make your life very difficult.”

Kat narrowed her eyes at the threat. She freed her hand. “Do you like letter-writing, Bitsy?”

“Excuse me?”

“You get your jollies from it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not going anywhere, old friend. Tell your husband-to-be he has nothing to worry about.” She paused. “Unless he killed my sister.”

Ryan Benton
2003

Two nights before the murder

The interior of the Mustang was hot, the air humid. Kat’s hair stuck to the back of her damp neck. She struggled to shimmy into her jeans while Ryan fired up a joint. The acrid scent stung her nose.

She looked at him. He lay back in his seat, shirtless, eyes hooded as he watched her. He was so handsome. She couldn’t believe he was with her.

“Can I test positive from just breathing in the smoke?” she asked.

“No way, babe. You’re good.”

“Are you sure, because I feel sort of high?”

“Go with it.”

She giggled. “’Kay.”

She got her shirt buttoned and scooted across the backseat to snuggle up to him. “I hate her. She doesn’t understand anything.”

“You’re here. Don’t worry about it.”

“Only because she had a fight with her stupid boyfriend. I wouldn’t have been able to sneak out otherwise.” She puckered her lips, recalling their raised voices, the roar of his truck driving off and the sound of her sister’s sobs. “I wonder what they were fighting about. She was really upset.”

“Who gives a shit? Not me, that’s for sure.” He sucked on the joint, held the smoke in a moment and then let it out in a long stream.

Kat tried not to breathe in too much of the smoke. “I wonder who told her about us.”

“Maybe that nosy old bag from across the street.”

“Dunno. Maybe.” Her head was spinning. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He didn’t respond and she added, “I won’t let her break us up.” She tilted her face up to his. “We could just run away together?”

He met her eyes. “Big problem, babe. You said it yourself, you do that, you don’t get your money.”

“Would that be so bad? We’d have each other.”

“That’s all good, but we gotta eat, babe. You’ve always had everything you wanted, you don’t know what it’s like. It’s tough out there.”

“You’re really good at working on cars.”

He stiffened. “Really? You think so?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded apprehensively. He scared her when he got this way. Angry at her for something she couldn’t even name. Sarcastic and mean as a cottonmouth.

“News flash, little rich girl, I don’t plan to be working on cars the rest of my life. And this shit-hole, hick town? I want it in my rearview as soon as possible.”

She blinked against tears. She didn’t understand him. All she’d done was tell him he was good at something.

“Gonna cry now? Poor little rich girl.”

“I don’t like it when you call me that. It hurts my feelings. Stop it.”

“Why should I? It’s true, right?”

She tried to move away; he held her, his arms like a vise. “You really wish she were dead?”

“Yes! You know how much I hate her.”

“So, maybe she should have an accident?”

For a second she thought he was serious, then she realized he was messing with her. “Like walk in front of a bus?” Kat giggled. “Good-bye pain-in-the-ass big sister.”

“There’re no buses in Liberty, idiot.”

She snuggled into him, brain humming. A hummingbird, she thought. So light, it seemed to hover above her. “Here’s an idea. Fix her brakes. You could do that. When she tries to stop, she can’t. She’ll barrel down the mountain—”

“No mountains in Louisiana, babe. Not even bunny hills.” He looked at her. “You’re stoned.”

“Mmm…” She leaned her head against the seat back; she could see a strip of the star-dusted sky through the back window. “How ’bout a skydiving accident? We make certain her parachute doesn’t open.”

“Does she skydive?”

“Nope.” She giggled. “Do you?”

“Time to go home.”

She pouted. “I don’t want to. I wanna stay with you. All night.”

“Imagine,” he said, voice silky, “if you never had to go home. And if we didn’t have to sneak around. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Mmm…”

“But your bitch of a sister won’t let us do that.”

“She’s so mean.”

“That could be us. Together every night. All night.” He lowered his voice. “We could get married. Live happily ever after.”

Happily ever after. With Ryan
. She sighed. His arms felt so warm around her. So comforting.

He turned her face toward his. “We just have to get rid of her and we have it all.”

Kat blinked, something in his tone threading through her drug-induced brain fog. “What are you saying? You’re for real here? You want to kill her?”

His lips curved into a slow, sexy smile. “You’re cute when you’re loaded.”

“I don’t want to be cute. I want to be sexy. Hot.”

He laughed and dragged her onto his lap so she straddled him. His arousal pressed against her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t worry, babe.” He started to unbutton her shirt. “You are.”