Kayla was not a baseball fan. She put the game on for Ryan, but as it stretched to an eleventh inning tie punctuated by weather delays, she was bored to tears. Rain pelted the roof in staccato rhythm. She discarded the idea of crossing the soggy lawn to work in her studio. Instead she sat next to Ryan and rested her head on his shoulder. At least the game afforded him a distraction. He had been quiet the last few days and downright anxious today.
On a personal level, she hadn’t been the best company herself. Work had tied up her weekend but midweek, she’d been laid up with what appeared to be a summer cold. Her body ached and her sinuses caused migraines. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to work tomorrow night.
Then there was Ryan. He was patient, considerate and probably completely frustrated with her. Her gaze shifted to the large manila folder on the shelf above the television. He’d asked her to take a look at it weeks ago. And there it sat, unread, unopened, unmoved—the eight hundred pound gorilla in the living room that neither of them mentioned. It contained nothing more than a bunch of old papers about an incident she couldn’t remember. Why did she feel like everything would change after she opened that envelope?
Headlights flashed through the window. Ryan reached for his gun, which he had kept noticeably closer since he told her about her stepfather’s release from prison. “You expecting anyone?”
“No.” Kayla said. “But it’s probably the sheriff. The power was out earlier.”
Skeptically, he made his way to the window to check. As the vehicle pulled up to the house, motion detectors activated the floodlights Ryan had installed. “What the hell…”
“Who is it?”
“Sean.”
“Were you expecting him?”
“Not until tomorrow,” Ryan said.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
He paused for a long moment before answering. “He’s not always reliable with follow through.” She got the feeling he was holding something back.
“Well, open the door for him.”
Ryan glanced at the television. “After this batter.”
She shook her head. “That’s mean.”
“He won’t get out before the end of the inning. Trust me.”
“He’s as bad as you.”
“Worse.” Ryan laughed. “Oh, by the way, he’s not alone.”
Kayla bounded from her couch. “He bought Chris?”
“Would you let him in if he showed up with another woman?”
“Yes.” She glanced out the bay window to check for herself. “But I wouldn’t be nice to her.” Unconcerned about the weather, she sprinted out the front door. Bare feet sunk into the waterlogged ground that oozed between her toes. She reached the car before either occupant had time to exit.
Chris opened the window a crack. “Are you nuts? Get back in the house. You’ll get soaked.”
Kayla pulled at her clinging halter-top. “Too late.” She opened the door. “Why didn’t you call?
“I did. Three times! Even called your house phone.”
“We lost power for a while but it’s back now.” She waved to the other passenger. “Hi, Sean.”
He held up his hand. “Two more minutes.”
“It’s on in the house.”
He grabbed his keys from the ignition and strode to the house in typical McKenna fashion, discarding good manners in pursuit of his own desires.
Chris grabbed a pizza box off the back seat. “We’ll get the other stuff later.”
Kayla giggled. “We get pizza delivered here. You didn’t have to import it.”
“Long story.”
And bound to be an interesting story as well. Christine Dryer, in the company of a man, with jeans and a baseball shirt, no make-up and, heaven forbid, a pair of sneakers. Kayla couldn’t wait to hear this one.
After a quick change into a dry tee shirt, Kayla happily took up hostess duties. She puttered around the kitchen while the others watched the end of the game.
Excitement tingled in her belly. She felt like a child who had just been granted a play date with friends. While she waited for the pizza to reheat in the oven, she watched the three baseball fanatics make angry gestures and pained groans at the idiot box. She didn’t get the appeal, but she welcomed the company. Thankfully the game finished at the same time as the food.
She dragged a chair from the dining room into the kitchen. Ryan joined her as she climbed up and reached into the top cabinet.
“What are you doing?”
She stretched to grab a bottle in the back. “Chris keeps her wine hidden back here. She thinks I don’t know that she’s a closet...” She stopped mid sentence. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“You don’t drink.”
“Neither do you.” He took the bottle from her hand and put it on the counter. “And even when I did drink, I didn’t drink this.”
“Still-”
“I can’t stop the people around me from living their lives. I can only control my own.” He clamped his hands over her waist and lowered her to the floor.
“But I shouldn’t throw temptation your way.”
His warm laughter danced over her neck and along her shoulder. “You have been one giant temptation since you first let me in your front door.” Leaning closer, he pinned her against the wall with his body. The heady scent of him was more intoxicating than any French wine.
Naturally he had found his playful mood when she couldn’t do anything about it. “I’ll set the table.”
“It’s Sean. Just toss it on a paper plate.”
“It’s Chris. She only eats off china.” Kayla glanced into the living room. “Then again, she doesn’t wear sneakers or jeans either. What do you think Sean did with the real Christine?”
Deciding to see just how much her friend had changed since dating Ryan’s brother, Kayla put the pepperoni pie on the coffee table in its box and passed out paper plates. No comment from the etiquette police. Wow! Must be semi-serious.
Kayla slouched into the corner of the sectional next to Chris. “So, you took the day off tomorrow to see the livestock competition?”
“No,” Chris said but didn’t follow up with her usual complaints about rural life.
“Too bad.” Kayla took a bite of her pizza and savored the taste. “Are you sure? They are giving out the blue ribbon for the prize bull.”
Nothing! No cracks, no jokes. In fact the three of them just stared at her with a sad expression.
What was going on?
Reality washed over her like a cold Atlantic wave. Her appetite vanished and her stomach constricted. She dropped her slice onto the plate and rose from the sofa. “Excuse me.”
Kayla walked into the kitchen, leaned against the cool refrigerator, and slid to the floor as her legs gave out beneath her. Her hand trembled. She took a calming breath that didn’t help.
Ten o’clock, in the rain, on a work night. This was not a social call. Only one thing would bring the couple out in hazardous conditions. The one thing she didn’t want to hear.
* * *
“Kayla?” Ryan spoke her name several times but she didn’t seem to hear. With her arms wrapped around bended knees, she slowly rocked back and forth. “Come on, China Blue. We need to talk.”
“I know why they’re here,” she said so softly he barely heard. Her stare rested on a small-framed picture on the kitchen counter. Omar had given her the photograph two weeks ago. The family portrait, taken when Kayla was a child, had touched her deeply and left her with the hope that her mother would be found alive.
He extended his hand and easily pulled her to her feet. She didn’t cry, but he almost wished she would. Then he’d know how to deal with her. Her calm was surreal. Scary.
“Do you want to lie down?”
Kayla shook her head. “I have a lot to do. I have to call Uncle Omar. I’ll have to make arrangements. There will have to be a funeral, right?”
He tried to put his arm around her but she backed away. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
“It can’t. I don’t know what she would have wanted. I don’t know her religion. I don’t know where my father was buried. If he was buried! I don’t know anything.” Frustration gave an edge to her words.
Many parts of his life he’d like to forget, but he couldn’t imagine how it felt to have no memories. “That’s why Chris is here. I’m sure a lot if it was in your file. But it can wait until morning.”
He prodded her toward the living room. “Ryan?”
“What?”
Her eyes shimmered like deep blue pools on a stormy night. “How did she die?”
“They don’t know for sure yet.”
“They must have an idea.”
Sean was better informed to answer the question but she wanted an answer from Ryan. And since he swore he’d never lie to her, he had no choice but to give her the truth. “The coroner’s preliminary report listed the cause of death as blunt-force head trauma.” He left out the rest for now. They’d also found evidence of multiple stab wounds and her hair had been hacked off—the trademark signs of Kayla’s own attack.
“When?”
“There were two unused bus tickets in her skirt pocket for May 18, 2000, so most likely around that date.”
“Where did they find her?”
The vacant stare in her normally expressive eyes left Ryan with a feeling of helplessness he hadn’t experienced in years. She was shutting down emotionally and he didn’t know how to stop it. “Let’s go sit down.”
“Why won’t you answer the question?”
“They found her at the old house on Archer Street. You can read the details in the report tomorrow.”
Kayla shook her head. “No. I’ve been putting things off for too long. I’m going to call Uncle Omar and then deal with that envelope on the shelf.” She stepped around him and walked into the living room. Now she decided to read the file! An ominous crack of thunder broke the silence. They were in for a long night.
* * *
Kayla spent the next hour in a trance. Numbness settled over her like a cold fog. She called Omar but her words only confirmed what he must have suspected. He promised to handle the funeral arrangements. She felt useless. Her stomach tightened painfully. She never thought she’d have to plan for this kind of a situation. Her life, once so quiet and orderly had plunged into chaos. If the truth set you free, why was her world closing in?
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recall any small piece of the past. Her doctors had told her she might never regain her memory, but they’d never ruled out the possibility either. She would hate to bury her mother knowing only how she died, and not how she lived.
Ryan’s comforting arm remained around her. She fumbled with the folder in her hands but didn’t open it. Although she fully intended to review the contents, she wanted more than just pages of facts. She wanted to remember.
Exhausted and emotionally drained, she needed to rest. But sleep was just another way of putting off the inevitable and she’d avoided the past for too long.
Ryan laid one hand over hers. “Go to bed, Kayla. One day isn’t going to make a difference.”
After ten years, he was probably right.
* * *
Christine glanced at her friend. She wanted to do something—anything—but she had no idea how to help. Maybe she should have forced the issue years ago. Instead of thinking like social worker, she had reacted like an over-protective parent.
She cleared her throat. “I guess we’ll head back now.”
Kayla arched her eyebrow. “Why? The weather is terrible out there.”
“I figured…”
“You figured you would deliver some crappy news and then run for cover?” Kayla gripped the edge of the envelope. “Is that it?
Chris rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I thought you’d want to be alone with Ryan.” Particularly since Kayla hadn’t spoken three words after returning from the kitchen and she hadn’t left his side.
“If I wanted you to leave, I’d tell you.”
No you wouldn’t. Kayla wouldn’t even hang up on an annoying telemarketer trying to sell her swampland in the Everglades, let alone ask someone to leave her house.
“Okay. But I agree with Ryan. You need to get some rest. It’s going to a long day tomorrow.”
“I will. You and Sean can use the upstairs.”
Sean shook his head. “I hope there are two rooms. She’s already told me I’m not getting any sex tonight.”
Chris jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re disgusting.” The man was crass, arrogant and possessed an inappropriate sense of humor. What the hell did she see in him? But when she looked at her friend, she realized that maybe inappropriate humor was appropriate after all.
Kayla had actually smiled. “And you’re most likely wrong. She has no will power.”
He winked. “I know. But sometimes I let her think she does.”
This big brother-little sister thing she had going on with Sean seemed to calm her. And she’d bet he knew it too. When she thought about it, she realized that his Neanderthal traits surfaced mostly when a situation needed comic relief. And that’s what she saw in him.