It was so strange, seeing this change in him. He’d been much more casual, more carefree when they were younger. Had worn nothing but faded jeans and old rock band T-shirts practically year-round when he wasn’t in his football uniform. As an adult, he was confident, attractive.
Dangerous.
In one easy movement, he took a seat beside Maggie. His cologne had a slight woodsy aroma, and she couldn’t help but breathe him in.
Then she exhaled hard. No, she was not getting caught back up in him. Not now, not after everything she’d been through. His exterior may have changed, may have gotten slicker and more sophisticated. But deep down, he was still the same arrogant guy who was too selfish to feel, to love.
Who’d dumped her without one second thought.
Andrew looked at Bethany, Robert, Maggie. The waitress scuttled over and brought him and Bethany cups of coffee. They all drank in silence for a moment, buried in their own thoughts.
Tension wound through Maggie like a tightening coil.
“Look,” she finally said, putting her mug down and fixing her gaze on her brother, steadily ignoring Andrew and Bethany. “I’ll admit—I don’t like this at all. I can’t believe what Grandpa did. But it was his wish, his money, and I’m willing to put aside my own feelings to . . .” Her throat closed slightly and she swallowed. “To find out what happened to my sister.”
Robert nodded.
“Me too,” Bethany whispered.
“Then I guess it’s settled,” Andrew said, taking a long draw of his coffee. “We’re all in this to find out the truth about Cassandra.” He turned to look at Maggie, his eyes unreadable. “And we’ll know once and for all where she is and what happened.”
Chapter 3
It didn’t take long to establish the parameters for how this was going to proceed. Granted, everything they discussed was essentially based on a gentleman’s handshake, so Maggie was a bit skeptical. They all agreed to not inhibit each other’s progress or interfere in any investigations. They would also do regular check-in meetings with Mr. Webber so he’d know their progress and could keep track of them. Nothing illegal or immoral was allowed.
Basically, keep it fair.
Let’s see how long that lasts, Maggie thought with a snort.
As soon as they’d agreed to the terms, Bethany had paid for her coffee and taken off, her high heels clacking as she practically ran out the door. No love lost on her part either, apparently. She’d sat the whole time with a pretty scowl on her face, arms crossed and refusing to look at Maggie.
Like she had any right to be upset.
What used to be a strong friendship, though flawed in many ways, had become a thick antagonism between them that could never be fixed. But who wanted friends like that, anyway? Maggie was better off now. She had a few work friends and acquaintances back home in Florida. They didn’t try to screw her family members—in sex or money.
Robert dug his cell out of his pants pocket and clicked it on. “I gotta run,” he said. “A few things to take care of. Tell Mom and Dad I can’t make it to dinner tonight but I’ll come this weekend.”
That would give Robert a few days to mull the whole thing over—and by then, he might decide pairing with her was the right idea after all. She could try to talk to him then. She nodded, sipping the last of her coffee as her brother tossed two crumpled dollar bills on the table and walked away.
Which left her alone with Andrew.
“I should be going too,” she said, tilting up the end of her mug to drink the last swig and scooting the cup away from her on the table. She reached toward her purse to get money for her drink.
“Wait, we need to talk,” he said. “About all of this.”
Her heart thudded. She looked up.
Andrew paused. “You’ve changed,” he murmured out of nowhere, unashamedly staring at her, gaze practically raking her hair, her eyes, her figure. His blue eyes were striking, thorough. “You seem different now.”
Her skin grew hot and tingly. She felt on display for him, studied in a way she hadn’t been looked at in a long, long time. “I grew up.” She raised one eyebrow. “You’ve changed too.”
Amazing. She was sitting here, having a real conversation with the guy who’d broken her heart all those years ago. But now they were competitors in a twisted game none of them really wanted to play.
Cassandra. The center of her family’s world, even years after her disappearance. Maggie couldn’t escape it.
“I had to change,” Andrew said with a dismissive shrug, interrupting her thoughts. “I was a kid, and I was incredibly stupid. As you remember all too well, I’m sure,” he added with a wry smile.
She thinned her lips, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Not going down that road right now. She needed to focus. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked him to get them back on track.
The flicker of emotion in his face fell away, and he became businesslike. “I have a proposal for you regarding the investigation,” he said crisply. “We pair up and help each other.”
Shock riveted her to her seat. “What?” Why would he want to team up with her, especially when even her own brother wanted to go it alone? Was he suggesting it because he thought she had some kind of leg up on the search?
Maybe she did. She knew her sister, had lived with the girl for sixteen years. Then again, with how much Andrew had been around because of his friendship with Robert, it wasn’t like he had a huge disadvantage here or anything.
“On the way over here, I gave the whole issue some thought.” He took a small sip of coffee, smoothly fluid in the way he placed the mug down. His long fingers stroked the rim. “She’s your sister. Your family. Not mine. I want to help you.”
Despite the coolness in his gaze, there was something earnest in his words. Either he meant what he said or he was a skilled actor. But why help her? Wouldn’t that risk him getting the money in the end?
Maybe it was one of those keep-your-enemies-close kind of thing. Could she really trust what Andrew was saying? He might just use her for information to make sure she wasn’t learning more than he was.
She groaned internally. God, this situation was making her paranoid. Her mind wouldn’t stop running, throwing out all these ridiculous scenarios in her head.
But one thing was for sure. It was already becoming apparent that Andrew was going to be a big distraction. Every memory she had of her best times growing up in this town involved him. It was going to be quite difficult separating him from the inquiry into her sister.
Deeply emotional.
She wasn’t ready for this right now. She needed time to think. Plus she still needed to see if she could convince her brother to work with her. With a sigh, she reached into her purse and flicked a few bucks onto the table, adding a couple more dollars because her cheap-ass brother hadn’t even given any tip money.
“I’ll . . . think about it,” she finally answered, keeping her voice even. No way was she going to let him know he was shaking her up. That he affected her, made it hard for her to concentrate. In spite of the multitude of scents, she could detect his cologne. His eyes reminded her of the lake on a bright, sunny day.
There was something magnetic about him that drew people. But that didn’t mean she could trust him.
Andrew nodded, opening his wallet to grab a few bills for his coffee and handing her a business card. “Okay. Here’s my cell if you need to reach me.” He scooted out of the booth to allow her to exit.
She took the card, stuffing it into her pocket without looking at it. With a parting nod that she hoped looked less emotional than she felt, she turned and left the diner, the cool air hitting her in the face as soon as she opened the door. If it was this brisk now, it was going to be much colder tonight when the sun went down. Maggie tugged her thick sweater a little closer around her.
She turned around the corner of th
e diner and stopped in surprise. Bethany was standing by a hot-red fabric-top convertible, talking to a man, their bodies close, their hands moving animatedly as they spoke in hushed tones.
Something told her she wasn’t supposed to see this.
Maggie pressed her side to the brick edge of the diner, peering around the corner, pretending like she was standing there to block the wind. Because of the air whipping around the corner, it was hard to hear anything; she could only catch the occasional snatches of words.
Bethany swiped a hand across her eyes and waved a slender hand toward the diner but kept her face riveted on the man. He was tall, well over six feet and dressed in all black, towering over her and scowling down.
“Trying—” Bethany was saying, the pleading in her tone, her eyes evident. “Need time.”
“—soon,” the man retorted. His face turned stony and he gripped her upper arm, fingers digging into her flesh.
With that, Maggie’s heart thudded in her chest, roared in her ears. Should she call someone, go back and get Andrew to help? Step forward and intervene? Something was going on here. Something bad.
Maggie moved away from the chilly brick wall, stopping in shock when she saw Bethany reach shaking fingertips up to the guy’s face. She stroked his jaw, his lower lip, then moved closer, pressing against him.
Whoa. Had she been cheating with this scumbag? Disgust hit Maggie anew. Unreal.
The guy’s eyes slitted, but he didn’t move.
“I want—” Maggie heard Bethany start, her lips pursed into a sexy pout. She tilted her face toward the man then brushed her lips across the curve of his chin.
His body visibly relaxed and he dropped his grip, sliding his hand across her lower back, stroking the top curve of her buttocks. Bethany sighed and leaned closer, giving him a blinding smile.
Maggie’s heart rate dropped back down once she realized there wasn’t going to be any violence. But her frustration with Bethany grew tenfold. Was this one of the woman’s secret boyfriends, pissed because he was getting cut off from Maggie’s grandpa’s funds?
All the more reason Maggie had to make sure her grandfather’s money stayed out of that woman’s hands. Who knew how many of Bethany’s secret lovers could benefit from her grandfather’s death and might have been spending his hard-earned money while he was alive, thinking Bethany was true and loyal to him?
The thought made her stomach curdle.
Maybe trusting in the wrong person was a family trait. Sure as hell seemed Maggie had picked that up from her grandfather. She needed to be extra careful.
When Bethany rose up onto her toes and pressed another kiss on his jaw, Maggie couldn’t watch anymore. She sighed in disgust and walked away.
***
The walk back to her parents’ house was quiet, leaving Maggie with her swirling thoughts. Had it really only been this morning since her grandfather’s will reading? Seemed like days had passed since then. So much sadness and stress weighed her mind down, fought for her attention.
She needed to get organized. Chaos wasn’t going to help her find her sister. She needed a plan, a methodology on how to approach things. As she walked across crunchy brown leaves, scattered across the sidewalks, she ordered her mind to stop whirling around and one by one reviewed what information she’d learned so far.
Her grandfather had chosen the four of them. Obviously he’d realized they would all be vested in finding Cassandra, for whatever personal reasons. Like it or not, Maggie couldn’t escape them. Her brother, her ex-boyfriend, her ex–best friend.
Maybe part of what she needed to do tonight was analyze them as well. How they would go about trying to find Cassandra so Maggie could anticipate their strategy, as they were likely going to do with her. Know thine enemy, as the saying went.
Okay, the next element: Cassandra herself. Maggie needed to go through her sister’s things, painful and haunting as it was going to be, to see if there were any clues. And also talk to the police department, beg favors to see any evidence they would show her. Maybe the bedroom or evidence box held a note passed during class from a guy who might know something. A hidden flyer that gave a destination for a well-planned runaway.
As if Maggie could wish for something so obvious.
A small seed of hope blossomed in her belly, one she’d thought was long gone. Could her sister be alive? Was it too much to long for?
Stop that, she admonished herself. Eight years had passed without one word, one message from Cassandra. No way her sister would have stayed gone that long without trying to reach out to someone. Her sister was impulsive and rash, yes, but she also loved her family.
Their parents hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed their phone number in the small possibility of their daughter coming back home someday. They wanted to be available to her, just in case.
And Maggie hadn’t married; she wasn’t hard to find with a basic Internet search.
No, she couldn’t get her hopes up again. For now, she had to assume the worst. Sadly, the evidence pointed to it.
Which brought her to her third point of attack—Maggie needed to find the public records, articles and police records on her sister’s disappearance. It was always possible something had been overlooked, a scrap of a clue that would come together for her and lead her to her sister. Surely one of the attendees at that party might know something without even realizing it could be a clue, and she could start interviewing them by finding the list of attendees on the police report.
Forgoing the front door, Maggie, suddenly parched, opted for the side door that led into the kitchen. Her fingertips had gotten cold, since she hadn’t brought gloves with her to the diner. She craved a hot cup of tea and maybe something sweet to hold her off until dinner tonight.
As she opened the side door, she heard her parents’ raised voices echoing from the living room. Maggie closed the door quietly behind her, kicking off her shoes and stepping on socked feet across the floor. A habit she’d quickly gotten into after the family’s nightmare with Cassandra.
The event that had spiraled their family from its comfortable happiness to its strained existence. Just barely getting by. Smiles cracked around the edges, falling apart behind the privacy of the home.
“. . . can’t believe this,” her dad was saying. She could hear him pacing the floor, dress shoes tapping as he moved. Something he used to do nonstop for the first several months after Cassandra had disappeared. In Maggie’s mind she could visualize him thrusting his hand through his ever-graying hair, a painful scowl on his face.
Her dad hardly smiled anymore.
“I don’t want to believe it either, but my father apparently couldn’t let it go.” There was so much vitriol in her mother’s voice that Maggie stopped moving toward the fridge, shocked. “He never did respect that it was our daughter, our family. But that was Dad for you. Wanting what he wanted, when he wanted it.”
Maggie had never heard her mother talk about her grandpa in such caustic terms before. The anger boiled out of every word. How much emotion was festering inside her parents that she didn’t know about? Her mother and father had been so careful to keep calm around Maggie and Robert after the disappearance, not letting them see their tears or sorrow.
But Maggie had heard them. Every night.
“We should contest the will,” her father replied. His voice was flat. “I’m sure we could prove that your father was . . . not in his right mind at the end. Look at that girl he was dating, Susan. That alone shows he was crazy.”
Maggie eased herself into a kitchen chair, her stomach flipping over itself. She couldn’t leave the kitchen without her parents hearing that she was there. She was stuck, eavesdropping on something she simultaneously wanted to absorb and run from.
“My father was not crazy,” her mom said, her tone huffy. “He was a fool, but he was smart. He knew what he was doing.”
Th
ere was a long, awkward pause.
“I don’t know if I can go through this again,” her mom continued. There was such a heavy weariness in her voice that Maggie’s heart stirred in sympathy. “I’m still so raw, so tired. Eight years, but it feels like it happened yesterday.”
“We don’t exactly have a choice.”
“The case is far too cold by now. What new stuff can they even find? It’s been too long.”
“It wouldn’t have been cold if we’d kept pushing it.” There was a chilly edge to his voice. The unspoken words lingering in the air were, the way I’d wanted to. An argument Maggie had heard a time or two in the past and had secretly agreed with. While she knew her mom had wanted to try to heal and move on, she’d never been able to shake things off like that. Nor had she been old enough as a teen to take initiative and investigate on her own.
Then again, this wasn’t something she could criticize her mother about. After all, as soon as it was time for college, she’d turned tail and run. And hadn’t looked back.
“Plus your . . . distractions at the time didn’t help,” her dad pointed out.
Distractions?
“Oh, don’t start this up again, Michael,” her mom said, her words decidedly crisp. “For heaven’s sake, are we still going to dredge up our past? Am I going to be crucified for all of my mistakes, no matter how many times I say I’m sorry? What else do you want to throw in there—how I burned our dinner last week? That time I forgot to pay the electric bill? Since we’re doing the ‘blame game’ here, you know.”
“Am I wrong?” Her father’s voice rose to match her mother’s. “This could have been solved a long time ago, had we tried another PI. Like I’d wanted to. Then your crazy father wouldn’t have—”
“We don’t know where she is!” her mom burst out. Something banged hard in the living room, possibly an open hand slapping on a table, and Maggie startled. “And none of those damned people could help us! I just wanted some peace and sanity. Just one moment of it!”
The Inheritance Part I Page 3