“I have a meeting.” That was a lie, but she didn’t have to know. He thrust one leg into his trousers, then the other, before standing and pulling them up.
She came up on her knees, snaked her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek to his back. He shuddered inside, didn’t dare allow her to see or feel the truth. “You were perfect,” she murmured. “I should have you for dessert every day after lunch. You make me come so fast.”
“I have to go.” He moved out of her grasp.
She sat back down on the bed and sighed. That athletic body displayed invitingly. “Well, okay, if you really have to.” As he tugged on his shirt she adopted a look of petulance, pouted those full red lips, and then reminded him, “Don’t forget next time. You promised you’d never forget.”
“Right.” He stepped into his shoes, ready to get the hell out of here. He’d forgotten the stupid gift he’d promised her. She always insisted on a gift. But today there had been other things on his mind. Clint Austin was back. Keith had seen him. Had gotten a long hard look at what ten years in Holman had done to the man. Even now the thought made Keith sick to his stomach. Austin had paid dearly.
After so many years Keith had thought the past was behind him. Now he knew differently. That night would never be behind him. He’d made a mistake ... one he couldn’t take back. He would never be able to forgive himself.
He’d tried to do everything right since. He’d stayed in a less than happy marriage. He’d taken care of Troy no matter what kind of trouble he got into or caused for Keith. But none of it was enough.
He had to get out of here.
“See you later, baby,” she purred.
He nodded but didn’t look back. He couldn’t bear to look. Not with what he knew crushing in on his chest.
22
Friday, July 19; 8:00 a.m.
Emily couldn’t take the not knowing a minute longer. She had to find out what was going on with her parents now. Today.
She waited impatiently for them to return home from their morning walk. Shivering, she checked the thermostat, nudged it up a degree. She’d tossed and turned last night, unable to fixate on anything but Clint Austin.Damn him. Her parents might be in trouble and she couldn’t stop obsessing abouthimand trial transcripts and rumors that couldn’t possibly be true.
Her entire existence had been focused on Austin for so damned long that she’d missed the signs that her folks needed her. What kind of daughter did that make her?
The remarks Cathy and Violet had made about Emily holding out, waiting for Austin, had pushed a hot button, made her obsessively analyze every minute since she’d come back ... since he’d come back. She hadn’t wanted a social life since the murder. Every day for the past ten years she’d done nothing but what she had to do. Exist. Nothing more. She felt nothing, wanted nothing.
That didn’t mean she had been holding out for Austin.
Dr. Brown had had a theory about that, as usual. He’d insisted that Emily was punishing herself. Why should she have a life when Heather didn’t have one? That was one time he’d probably been right. As for sex,she’d had her share of encounters. But none of it had made her feel ... nothing ever made her feel. Except, apparently,him.
Pacing the length of the living room again, Emily ordered her thoughts away from Austin and back on the real problem she needed to deal with right now. She didn’t relish the idea of confronting her parents about Fairgate. But maybe she could help. Besides, trying to sneak around to learn the truth wasn’t going to cut it. Fairgate had refused to talk and she’d found nothing in her father’s study that gave any clues. Snooping in her parents’ house was a new low for her. But she was desperate. Desperate enough to consider asking Clint Austin what he knew about Fairgate’s dealings with her father.
A slow, swelling realization crept into her thoughts. Maybe she should do that with all the questions she had about the past. Principal Call couldn’t say for certain that he hadn’t seen anyone else in the neighborhood that night. Add to that the comments tossed out regarding the possibility that Austin was innocent, by her own friends no less, and she was feeling damned confused. She should demand some straight answers from all involved. Starting with Ray Hale and then maybe even Clint Austin. Why not?
First she had to deal with her father’s situation. Admittedly, she couldn’t seem to separate, no matter how hard she tried, the idea that her father was keeping an old secret that involved Fairgate and the fact that Clint Austin’s alibi had hinged on Fairgate. There couldn’t be a connection. The idea was ludicrous.
Emily perched on the edge of the sofa to wait. Why did she even go there anyway? She knew Clint was in the room that night ... touching her. He’d had Heather’s blood all over him. He was not innocent.
The front door opened.
Emily rocketed off the sofa.
“Hello, dear.” Her mother fanned herself as she closed the door behind her. “Whew, it was hot out there this morning.”
Emily’s heart thumped. “Where’s Dad?”
Her mother sat down in a chair in the entry hall and started to untie her walking shoes. “He had an appointment this morning. He’ll be home this afternoon.”
He was avoiding Emily.
Fairgate had to have told him about her visit.
“Where’d he go?” Emily stalked over to her mother, her frustration illogical, she knew. “I need to speak with him. Why would he have an appointment this morning? Is he avoiding me?”
