by Amy Miles
I followed Trip to the bar, feeling very grown-up until I saw Collins up close, just a few feet away from me. Her red v-neck showed off a generous amount of cleavage and I couldn’t help but look down at my own flat chest. Not like I hadn’t reached puberty by sixteen. This was just it. I wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“This your girlfriend, Williams?” The redheaded goon chuckled as he put a muscular arm around me. “How long you kids been going out?”
“Very funny, Pratt.” Trip accepted a Coke from the bartender and handed it to me. “She’s . . . a friend.”
A blanket of warmth draped over me. Don’t ask me why, it’s not like he’d called me his girlfriend.
“Well, welcome friend.” Pratt gave me a wicked smile. “You can join us if you want. We’re celebrating our triumph.”
Since they were celebrating Amanda, I knew I should fit in, but felt in my bones I didn’t. Which was odd. I mean, I deserved to be here as much as anybody—if not more. Hadn’t I read Bishop’s mind and found her? My brows drew together, insulted that nobody acknowledged my contribution.
Then I remembered . . . nobody knew I’d helped out with Amanda. More secrets. Figured. I supposed the way to fit in was to play ignorant. “What’re you celebrating?”
Pratt looked proud of himself even though I didn’t remember seeing him in the Sierras. “You seen the pictures of the missing girl on the news this past week? Well, we found her. Sam over there got himself a hot tip that led us straight to her.”
Cheers went up around the bar, then the men began chanting and pounding their mugs against the wooden table.
I turned to Sam, who seemed uncomfortable in the spotlight. Or was that just because I’d led him to Amanda and he got to take the credit? “Congratulations, detective.”
“Thank you,” he said.
The way Sam said it, I knew he was thanking me for what I’d done, not for the compliment.
It was kind of cool that only he, Trip, and I knew the truth. Well, and Collins. For some reason, she annoyed me even more all made up than she had in her uniform. I couldn’t believe I’d thought she was Trip’s girlfriend.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Pratt put his arm around me and held out his other hand for me to shake.
“Kylie,” I said, wrapping my hand around his. Buzzing immediately coursed up my arm. Snapshots burst into my head, muddled with haze. Me, in a black, lace bra. Pratt leaning me onto a bed. His lips on my neck. Oh baby. You’re so hot. Pratt’s got what you want.
“Gross!” I yanked my hand away, stumbled backwards, and dropped my glass as I fell to the floor. It shattered on the tile, Coke splashing everywhere—including on my jeans.
Trip appeared in a flash, lifted me off the ground, and gave me a look. “What happened?”
“He . . . ” My voice trailed off. He, what? Had x-rated thoughts about me?
“I didn’t lay a hand on her.” Pratt raised his palms in the air and looked bewildered. “I swear.”
“We’re getting out of here.” Trip gave him a look that defined the saying ‘if looks could kill’ and then led me away from the table and through the front door.
Out in the cool air, I worked to catch my breath, but seriously thought I might pass out. Pratt’s dirty thoughts disgusted me. I was sick to death of accidentally reading minds. What was the protocol when you’re a mind reader? Should I start wearing gloves or something?
Trip crossed his arms, his jaw so tight I could see it pulsing. “I saw you shake his hand. What was he thinking?”
No way was I going to repeat what I’d seen.
“Forget it,” I said, wondering if he’d start a fight with a guy just for having dirty thoughts about me.
“Seriously.” His voice was tight and angry. “I want to know.”
Collins pushed through the front door then, saving me from having to answer. She stood on the sidewalk next to us. “Drive her home, Trip.” Her voice was stern. “Her dad’s worried sick about her.”
Wow. Blondie had a tough side to her after all. My knees were bent and I rested my hands on my thighs as I worked to get the Pratt images out of my head. Then it registered, what she’d just said. My dad knew I was gone. I was so busted. I thrust my head up and gaped at her. “How would you know if dad’s worried? He called the police?”
She stared at me through thick lashes and I saw her left eye twitch once. She didn’t answer, meaning she was hiding something. I didn’t have to go to detective school to figure that out. Then, she turned abruptly, pulled open the door and went back inside.
“Come on.” Trip put a hand on my arm. “I’ll take you home.”
“How does Collins know my dad?” I studied Trip, waiting for an answer. They had to be pretty close if he called her beyond work hours.
He stared at me, then shook his head. “Just let me drive you home.”
Trying to distract me. Nice effort, but wouldn’t work. “Answer me.” His hand still held my arm firmly and we were so close I could feel the warmth of his breath in the cool night air. My legs felt weak. Trip couldn’t let me down too. He just couldn’t. “Everybody lies to me.” I tilted my head sideways, barely able to look up at him. “So, what about you? Should I add you to the list or are you going to be straight with me?”
He dropped his head and slid his hands in his front pockets.
“Trip?” I wanted him to look up at me. “Does Collins know my dad well?”
He took a breath and turned away. “Yeah, you could say that.”
My spine tingled all the way up my back. Not the answer I’d expected, or wanted for that matter. She totally rubbed me the wrong way. “How long have they known each other?”
He shook his head slowly. “I can’t talk about this with you. It isn’t my place.”
“Excuse me?” My forehead crinkled and I bit my lip. “You asked me to spill my guts and I did. I told you everything about me.”
“That’s different. That was about the case.”
“Not all of it.” Well, it could technically seem that way, but not like I would’ve opened up to anyone else. “Just tell me. I can handle it.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
That liar? Like he’d tell me jack. “I’m asking you.”
“It’s late.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m taking you home. Come on.”
He turned away from me and headed toward his truck. Did he think I was behind him? No way.
More secrets. This time from Trip. It shouldn’t have surprised me at this point but it did. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d believed in him which made it more painful. My chest went hollow.
Well, screw him then. Screw them all. I turned in the opposite direction, and ran as fast as I could around the block toward my car.
“Kylie!” Trip’s voice echoed against the brick buildings and his footsteps pounded against the pavement. “Wait!”
“Keep your secrets, Trip. I don’t need you.” I’d meant to say I don’t need them but who cared anymore? I climbed behind the wheel of my car and slammed the door, screeching the tires as I floored it down the street.
Hot tears streaked down my cheeks and I swiped at my eyes. The entire world consisted of liars. There was no one I could trust. I sped down the street, not caring if I got a ticket, not knowing where to go. “What did I do to deserve this?”
I bit my lip and swerved left at the end of the block, speeding through midtown, then turning south. Realizing I meant to come this way, I squealed to a stop outside the cemetery.
And went to see my mom.
Chapter Ten
It took a few minutes to jog to my mom’s gravesite. The route was familiar even at night although I’d been journaling to her more and coming here less lately. The plots were in uniform sections and my mother’s was several sections over from the parking lot. During the day, cars were allowed to drive up along the dirty path by each section but it was chained off for the evening hours so I’d left my car in the office building
parking lot.
Although it was dark, the half-moon gave enough light to mostly see where I was going although I did trip over the occasional tree root. When I found what I was looking for, I dropped to my knees and stared at the engraved granite. I paused to catch my breath.
Cassandra Lynn Bates
(1971-2000)
Beloved wife and mother
I’d only been four when she died and my dad hadn’t even organized a funeral. “Too upsetting for her,” I’d heard him say to someone on the phone once. Personally, I think it would’ve been too upsetting for him. Not like he’d even dated anyone since my mom died. I didn’t really get death at the time and I kept waiting for her to come home, but she never did.
I’d poured over our photo albums plenty of times. Stared at the beautiful woman who’d kissed me, cuddled me, and captured her joy on camera. As time went on, I’d let go of thinking of the three of us and got used to it being just my dad and me.
But, even though she was gone, I always felt her love. Even now.
Sitting at my mom’s grave, my vision blurred and a million things ran through my head. Both my parents had told me they were only children but suddenly I’m finding Walkers I never knew about. Why had my parents kept family from me? My mom had to have known about mind reading but hadn’t prepared me for it. Why not? Maybe she’d planned to tell me everything but died before she had the chance. The thought soothed some of the pain billowing up inside me.
My eyes were hot, swollen. There was so much I wanted to ask her. How could I read minds? Why could I read minds? I needed her, but she’d left me. There was no way for her to explain things even if she wanted to. It felt so unfair. So wrong not to have her here with me. Even after all this time, the raw ache inside me resurfaced threatening to drown me in my own pain. All I wanted was my mom. Even just to hold me. Even for just one moment.
My shoulders shook as silent sobs crashed through me. I just wanted to be normal again. Everything had been fine when all I had to worry about was acne and homework. Even crushing on a guy had been easy since it’s not like I’d had the guts to even talk to him.
I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath and tried to let go of the horrible ache coursing through me. I needed to get a grip. Nobody would help me through this. The only person I could count on was myself.
“Kylie.”
At the sudden deep voice, I swung around and fell on my butt, the dew on the grass seeping into my jeans. Even in the dark, I recognized the male figure whose hair fell into his eyes. “Trip! What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“Sorry.” He approached, crouched down beside me, and shook his hair back. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
My heart pounded in my chest and I swiped my sleeves across my cheeks, hoping the dark hid how red my face must be. “Scared me half to death is more like it.”
“I followed you from the bar.” He stared at me for a moment and then took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re upset. Are you . . . okay?”
I thought about my wet butt, bruised neck, and swollen eyes. “Never better. Thanks for checking.” I gestured toward the parking lot. “You’ve eased your conscience so now you can leave. Go party with your friends about your great accomplishment.”
Hurt flickered across his face. “That’s not fair.”
I pushed to my knees and leveled my face with his. “You want to talk about fair? How about studying for a history quiz one day and having to read a criminal’s mind the next? Or better yet, finding a girl beaten in the woods. Oh, no, wait. Fair must be running for my life and having some creep crush my neck, trying to strangle me to death.”
Oh great, now I’d gone hysterical. No way Trip would ever want to be with such a basket case. Some part of me wanted to shut up but the other part kept my mouth motoring.
“Or, I know, maybe fair is having your best friend make out with your boyfriend.” I snapped my fingers. “Wait, I’ve got it. Fair is having your dad lie to you your entire life and hide an entire family from you. Or, maybe fair is having you keep things from me even after I poured my guts out to you just yesterday. Don’t play the fair card on me, Trip. That’s too low even for you.”
I sank back onto the wet grass and dropped my head in my hands while betrayals swam through my head at high speed until I couldn’t discern one from another.
A strong arm slid around my shoulders, calming everything for a brief moment.
I brushed him off. “Don’t pretend you care. You don’t or you’d tell me about Collins and my dad.”
“Kylie.” Trip paused, waiting for me to look up at him, but I couldn’t. It’d hurt more to see that gorgeous face, knowing he wasn’t on my side. “I gave my word to keep my mouth shut and can’t go back on that. Try to understand.”
The tears threatened to fall again but I worked to keep them in. I sniffed and swiped at my nose that seemed to be free flowing. “You freaking suck.”
“I know.” He moved to sit down beside me, our legs and hips brushing against each other. When I didn’t move away, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder again.
This time I let it be.
Everything inside me calmed as I sank against him. I could feel every inch of his muscular arm against my body, his heat penetrating through my clothes, and I relaxed into the warmth of him. My dad was a liar and someone just tried to kill me, but for the moment I had more than just the memory of love from my mom.
Trip cared enough to follow me from the restaurant to a graveyard late at night. He refused to tell me about Collins, but if he did make a promise. . .
It suddenly came together and it was better than I’d imagined. Since I met him, Trip kept fighting to solve a case for a kidnapped girl. Then, he’d raced to the hospital in the middle of the night because I’d called him and told him we were in trouble. Now, he was here, checking up on me. Trip wasn’t a fictional character from a novel either, he was a real guy. A good guy. Someone I could trust.
It was time to let Trip in. I needed to tell him about Amanda’s birthmark. And about mine. I pointed to the etched granite in front of me. “This is my mom’s grave.”
Trip squeezed my shoulder and a shiver ran through me. “I figured.”
“She died when I was four.”
“I remember.” His voice was quiet. “You told me yesterday.”
I sniffed. “Since she died when I was so little, I don’t have many memories to hold onto. But I have her photo albums and used to go through the pictures all the time.”
He didn’t say anything. Just listened. In addition to trying to save people, he was actually pretty good at that.
“I totally take after her. My mom. Dad and I look nothing alike.” I hesitated, not wanting to finally admit it aloud. “Did you happen to see the resemblance between Lynn, Amanda, and me?”
He released my shoulder—definitely not what I’d been striving for—and turned to look at me. Our faces were only inches apart. “I noticed.”
My stomach twisted in a knot and my eyes drifted down to study the muddy grass next to me. “Do you . . . know anything about that? Something you’re not supposed to tell me?”
“No,” he said, and I believed him. “I do have theories though.”
My head popped up and ungraciously bopped his chin. “Oops.” How embarrassing. “Sorry.”
He rubbed his chin.
“I’m not giving you any more sympathy than that.” I shook my head. “That’s nothing compared to being strangled. Trust me, I know.”
He didn’t laugh. “The doctor told us you’re fine. Why are you wearing a turtleneck?”
“Bruises,” I said, shrugging. So much for lightening the mood. “You were saying? About Amanda, Lynn, and me?”
He paused, studied me for a moment, and then ran a hand through his hair. “They’re just theories, mind you.”
Trip had theories. That meant he’d been thinking about me. In a case-related way, but still. “Have you shared your theories
with Collins or Sam?”
“No.” He shook his head, then twisted his torso sideways until his back cracked. “Not after Sam chewed me out for last night.”
I frowned. “How was any of that your fault?”
“He asked how you got my number, so I told him how I’d cornered you in the courtyard at school.” He laughed a little. “Let’s just say with all of the shouting he did, I was extra glad it was a short ride to the hospital.”
My brows came together. “Do you and Sam live together?”
He nodded. “More like I live with Sam. He lets me stay in the room behind his garage and I mow his lawn and run errands for him in exchange for rent.” He shrugged. “Beats living with my dad.”
I bit my lip. As mad as I was at my dad, it wasn’t even close to bad enough for me to move out. I couldn’t imagine how awful Trip’s dad must be.
Trip twisted his back again until it popped.
“Gross,” I said, cringing. Although my back was achy and could probably use a good pop itself. It wasn’t exactly comfortable sitting here on the dirt. I stared at my mom’s tombstone. Would it be rude to lean against it for support?
Cassandra Lynn Bates
It suddenly clicked. Lynn. There it was, out in the open the entire time. My mouth dropped open and I gestured toward the etched granite. “My mom’s middle name.”
“Lynn.” Trip nodded, obviously he’d put two and two together before me. “Let’s take a walk. My back’s killing me.”
“Okay.” I stood up, hoping it was dark enough that he couldn’t see my soaked butt. Our arms brushed as we got to our feet and my heart beat double time. “Any chance you think it’s a coincidence? After all, Lynn’s a common name.”
Yes, I was reaching but wasn’t I entitled after all I’d been through?
“I doubt it’s a coincidence.” His voice sounded adamant.
I rubbed my temples. “Smack a girl with the truth why don’t you?”
“You told me to be open with you.”
I sighed. “You’re right, I did. Lay it on me.”
He made a gesture with his hand as he stepped toward the dirt path between the next section over. “Let’s start with the fact that your dad called the station to have you find this one specific girl. Amanda. There are unsolved crimes all over the place, but he only allowed you in for hers. He was very clear about that. And he demanded Collins and Sam keep your involvement private.”