Because of a Girl Read online

  “Swimming?”

  “I’m not that good,” she admitted. “Did you do sports in school?”

  “I played football in high school, got into rugby in college. Broke my collarbone twice playing it, my leg once, even my nose.” He fingered it. “Had fun, though.”

  Meg shook her head and laughed at him.

  When he challenged her, she insisted she’d been too big a klutz in high school to play sports, then gave a one-shoulder shrug. A shadow crossed her face. Sadness, at a guess. “I never went to college.”

  “’Cuz you had me,” her daughter said, sounding... Jack couldn’t quite tell. Sad? Or resentful? Maybe both.

  “We all make decisions,” Meg said quietly and with an air of finality.

  The conversation continued, and he somehow contributed, even as he couldn’t help seeing the parallels between Meg and his mother, who had been different from his friends’. He’d heard whispers about what she wore, her nerve in actually going up onstage to sing with whatever band was playing a tavern. If she’d been able to find a vehicle to drive that would make people turn and stare, she’d have wanted it.

  Meg, well, he had no doubt Emily cringed at her mom’s clothes, the VW bus with the wild paint job that represented drugs and rock ’n’ roll, the fact that she didn’t hold a “real” job.

  Whimsical might be another word to describe both women, it occurred to Jack, although he’d never used it before. And that wasn’t all bad. His mother had been fun. Imaginative and willing to play. In retrospect, he thought she’d have embarrassed him a few years down the line, as Meg did her daughter, but then...

  Mom had opened his eyes. He’d believed in the impossible more than most kids did.

  And he kind of suspected Meg might have given her child the same gift, however reluctant Emily was now to acknowledge it.

  Crap. Here he was back to convincing himself it would be okay to hit on Meg, when the truth was he’d already gotten way too personal with her and her daughter.

  And, no, he didn’t believe Meg had anything to do with Sabra’s disappearance.

  But he had to prove Meg had been in front of the school five minutes before the first bell rang. Until he did that—what? Was he seriously thinking about starting something with her?

  Had she sucked him in with her warmth and creativity and ability to make a home where he wanted to be...when those were the qualities he remembered best in his mother? The mother who’d bounced off to a new life one day without looking back?

  A tearing sensation in his chest made him aware how badly he’d screwed up by accepting Meg’s invitation. Jack made his excuses as quickly as he could without being rude and left.

  * * *

  EMILY HAD BARELY taken her seat on the bus the next morning when she heard a girl somewhere behind her say in a hushed voice still meant to carry, “Jenn says she heard Ms. Guzman tell that policeman she saw Asher talking to Sabra out in the parking lot.” Significant pause. “And then she was gone.”

  Shocked, Emily turned her head enough to identify the speaker. Courtney was a sophomore, too, a gossip princess Emily never had liked. But...would she lie?

  The girl sitting with her gasped. “He was absent that morning! I have Band with him second period.”

  Emily couldn’t see her, but recognized her voice. Skylar Cort.

  Thinking furiously, Emily gazed straight ahead. Could it be true? Was Asher really absent? And that detective knew?

  Having him stay for dinner last night had been completely weird. He’d acted like he wanted to be friends. But probably not with her. There had been something going on when she came into the kitchen and he and Mom were standing so close—

  Oh, my God!

  She almost rolled her eyes, knowing she was echoing Skylar. But...did he like Mom? They hadn’t been doing anything, had they? Or was he trying to con her? Make her think he liked her so she’d tell him stuff?

  And...if she told Mom that’s what she thought he was doing, would she believe her?

  Yeah, right. Like Mom believed anything she said lately.

  Her thoughts pinged off in another direction.

  Asher?

  She hadn’t noticed his name the day she’d sneaked a look at the attendance records, but if he’d only been gone part of the day and it was excused, he might have been listed differently. Or maybe no teacher marked him absent. Some teachers hardly ever took roll.

  But...Asher?

  As the bus made the turn onto school grounds, Emily braced her feet and held on to her pack. The freshman girl next to her tipped into her, turned red and mumbled an apology. Emily hated riding the bus. She had this fantasy of Dominic asking her out, and her becoming his girlfriend, and him giving her a ride to school and home every day in his so-cool pickup. If she had to save up for her own car, it would take forever. And if Mom bought her a car? Emily cringed to imagine what it would look like.

  Asher, she reminded herself. She couldn’t believe Asher’d hurt Sabra, even if she had ditched him like he suddenly was dirt underfoot. Emily liked him. He wasn’t hot like Dominic, but he was nice.

  Only...what if Sabra’s baby actually was his? She had to have gotten pregnant either the week or so before they broke up, or the week or two after. So...it could be.

  And if he found out and was mad or scared?

  Taking her turn to step into the aisle and shuffle off the bus, Emily shook her head. Not Asher.

  But Ms. Guzman wouldn’t lie, would she? Even if he’d just talked to Sabra, why hadn’t he told anyone?

  And how can I find out?

  * * *

  “THIS MAY NOT be what you want to hear, but I need you to back off on this investigation.” Lieutenant Davidson lounged in the chair beside Jack’s desk. “It’s going nowhere. Teenagers run away all the time.” His gaze stayed steady. “We can’t afford to lose the man-hours you could be putting in on something else.”

  Crap. Jack had known this was coming, but he’d hoped to forestall it.

  “I think something bad happened to this girl.”

  The lieutenant’s bushy gray eyebrows rose. “You have any evidence to support that?”

  “No.” He hated to admit that. “Just my gut.”

  “You think the woman she’s been living with lost it?”

  Jack shook his head, reminded uncomfortably of his tangle of emotions for Meg Harper. He wanted her to be the kindhearted, generous woman he’d come to believe she was. Or had convinced himself she was. Not something he’d discuss with his boss.

  “It has to be the father of the baby Sabra is carrying,” he said. “Nothing else adds up.”

  “And you still don’t have a clue who that could be?”

  “No.” He clenched his jaw hard enough to be painful.

  To his credit, Davidson didn’t look happy. “Teenagers leak secrets like the rubber raft I had when I was a kid leaked water. Always had an inch in the bottom. If I knocked over the can of worms, they’d swim in it.”

  Nice image.

  “That’s a metaphor, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “I got that.”

  A detective a couple of desks away bellowed into his phone and sent his chair crashing back when he jumped to his feet. Jack and the lieutenant both ignored him.

  Davidson’s gaze stayed locked on Jack’s face. “Tell me how a fifteen-year-old girl can keep a secret like that.”

  “They’re capable,” he said tersely. “It’s all too common when a girl is being sexually molested by her father.”

  The lieutenant grunted acknowledgment. “Is there a father or father figure in her life?”

  “Not as far as I can determine.” Frustration roughened Jack’s voice. “If I had access to IRS records, I might be able to find her father. I’ve come up empty in thi
s state and neighboring states.” The feds could go where he couldn’t, but he didn’t know anyone in the Seattle FBI office well enough to ask for a favor. And, truthfully, he couldn’t offer a compelling argument for the need to find the man. Jack had begun to wonder. Sabra’s little sister seemed perplexed at the concept of either her own father or Sabra’s being an honest-to-goodness, real person. He’d begun to wonder if Mom wasn’t Mrs. Lee at all. A one-night stand could have become the fictitious Mr. Lee. It was increasingly likely that Sabra’s father, whoever and wherever he was, didn’t know he had a daughter.

  “Let people know you want to hear from them, that you’re still looking.” Davidson heaved himself to his feet. “But until there’s some kind of development...”

  “Understood.”

  The lieutenant nodded and walked away.

  And, God damn it, Jack did understand. That didn’t mean he liked the order.

  Before he could figure out what to do next, his phone rang. The caller turned out to be Raul Rivera, the high school principal.

  “The superintendent has backed down. He says you can go through her locker.”

  Jack didn’t have anything to justify a warrant, but he had figured it didn’t hurt to ask the administration for permission. If that bit him in the ass later...so be it.

  “Hallelujah.” Jack pushed back his chair. “I’m on my way.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  WAGING A BATTLE with guilt, Meg sat on the edge of Emily’s bed. She’d never even considered poking around in her daughter’s room. Until today.

  She wanted to be able to defend Emily to Jack without the teensiest bit of doubt, but she kept remembering the times Emily had gotten away with lying to her. So just get it over with, she told herself. Emily would never know, unless Meg actually found something. Which she wouldn’t.

  Unless...ugh, what if she came across something like a baggie of marijuana stashed in a drawer, or condoms, or...? Her mind boggled.

  She should probably be glad if she did find condoms. If Emily was having sex—please not yet—at least that would mean it was safe sex.

  The thought gave her the impetus to start searching.

  First, Sabra’s side of the room and her half of the closet. Aside from the day when Jack was with her, Meg had trusted Emily to look for clues among Sabra’s possessions.

  But there really wasn’t anything. Turning the pages in Sabra’s binder, Meg did discover how poorly she was doing in several of her classes. She hadn’t turned in all her assignments, and she clearly hadn’t studied for exams.

  On Emily’s side of the room, Meg tried to be stealthy, putting things back as close as she could to the way she’d found them. She went so far as to pull boxes down from closet shelves. One held outgrown toys kept out of sentimentality, another summer clothes Emily probably would consider out of style by the time she dragged them out. A third was filled with school projects and mementoes dating back to kindergarten, including photos from preschool on.

  Meg lost herself for a few minutes looking at the collage Emily and a couple of other girls had put together the night before it was due but that earned them an A anyway. She studied her daughter’s grin, so uncomplicated, and wistfully touched Emily’s face. It took an effort to wrench herself away, carefully snapping the lid back on the plastic tote and returning it to the closet shelf.

  The top of the dresser was a mess, but held nothing unexpected. Ditto drawers. Emily’s desk was harder to search, because drawers were jammed with returned assignments and tests, as well as miscellany like handbills for concerts and school plays.

  Getting down on her knees, Meg pulled out dirty clothes and dishes from beneath both beds, tossing the clothes in the hamper and piling the three plates, two mugs and one bowl to take downstairs with her.

  Then she sat back on her haunches, happy to be done. She trusted Emily. Why had it even crossed her mind to do this?

  But strangely, she was still looking around, remembering how she’d hidden things from her parents. Emily knew Meg came in here to put away clothes, at least. And since she’d come this far, she might as well go all the way.

  She lifted rugs, poked at the boards at the back of the closet. With renewed guilt, she told herself Emily wouldn’t have tried to hide anything because she had complete faith that her mother would never search her room.

  Meg lifted Sabra’s mattress enough to see under it, then Emily’s. Where she found papers. The ones on top were lined notebook paper from a binder.

  With a grunt, she heaved the mattress off the bed and leaned gingerly on the springs, picking up the first pieces that came to hand.

  All were Sabra’s, either schoolwork labeled with her name or recognizable by her distinctive, loopy handwriting.

  Within seconds, Meg’s shock and anger burned her guilt to ashes. There might be nothing important here...but Emily had hidden it for some reason. Meg saw the date on a quiz—taken and graded only a week before Sabra had disappeared.

  Determined and frustrated, she began to read.

  * * *

  EMILY STOOD JUST inside the noisy, crowded cafeteria, searching for Asher. Unless he’d brought his own lunch and was hiding out somewhere, he had to be here. It was too cold today to sit outside.

  “Hey.”

  The voice that always gave her goose bumps had her turning. Dominic had stopped a few feet away, his blue eyes on her face. For a moment, he was all she could see. He’d made her heart pound from the minute she first saw him, fall of her freshman year. Tall, he was easy to spot in the halls. Lean and athletic, he was as good-looking as...as Jeremy Sumpter from Friday Night Lights and even Joe Jonas.

  He practically always had an entourage around him, and today was no exception. A blonde cheerleader hovered beside him, her expression blank when she looked at Emily. She didn’t have to say, Wait, who are you?

  “Your friend still missing?” he asked.

  “Um...yeah. She is.”

  “Sucks,” Dominic said. Then, “So, you want to sit with us?”

  So much. But she had to find Asher.

  “I already promised someone. Tomorrow?” she added hopefully.

  Shrugging, he was already turning away. “Whatever.”

  She felt sick. This had probably been her one and only chance. Emily wanted to run after him and say, “No, my friend won’t mind.”

  But she couldn’t.

  Tearing her gaze from Dominic’s retreating back, she went back to searching the vast room. Asher didn’t stand out like Dominic did. She was about to despair when she spotted a guy by himself at a table in the far corner. He wore a baseball cap backward, but there was something about the way he held himself.

  Emily dodged people coming and going and even an apple that hurtled by, until she was close enough to see that it was him. He wasn’t that much taller than her—like, five foot nine or ten, and thin but strong. His brown hair was really short; it had been practically buzz cut earlier, because the wrestling coach insisted his boys wear it like that. Wrestling season had ended in February, though, and Asher must be letting it grow now. He wasn’t superhot like Dominic, but he had a friendly face and he’d been nice to Sabra. Emily had actually been a little mad at her for the way she ditched him in public. He had to be totally humiliated.

  “Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked.

  He looked up, anger flashing into his eyes. “So you can accuse me of murdering Sabra?”

  “No!” Except...wasn’t that sort of what she had meant to ask? Only, not like that?

  “Then what do you want?” he asked rudely.

  She circled the table and slid onto the bench across from him. “I guess you’ve heard what people are saying.”

  “You think?”

  Still clutching the bag that held her lunch, Emily hesitated. Then she l
ifted her chin. “So, is it true?”

  He jerked back, shock making him look like a stranger. “Did I kill her?”

  “No! I didn’t hear anybody say that. And... I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. Hurt her, I mean.”

  His laugh was almost mean sounding. “And how do you know that?”

  How did she? She frowned, thinking about it. “I saw how you were with her. You were nicer than she was.” She shouldn’t have said that. Sabra was her best friend. But...she needed to be honest, and it was true. “We’ve had a bunch of classes together. I see how you treat people.”

  “I’m a wrestler. I know holds I could use to hurt someone.”

  “Practically anyone could hurt Sabra, even me. She’s tiny. And, um, pregnant.”

  He seemed to brace himself. “It’s not my baby.”

  Emily felt her cheeks warming. Asking how he could be sure was really awkward. “That’s what Sabra said,” she admitted.

  “Then why does everyone keep assuming we both lied?”

  “I guess because we never saw her with anyone else. And also because it could be.”

  Dark color streaked across his cheeks now, making her notice that he had the kind of cool cheekbones that created hollows beneath. He looked both embarrassed and resigned. “No,” he said flatly. “It couldn’t be.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “You mean...?”

  “I mean.”

  “Oh.” He was saying they’d never had sex. At least, she thought that’s what he was saying.

  Despite her own embarrassment, she studied his face and saw only honesty. If he was being truthful, he must hate admitting this to her. He was a boy, after all. “Actually,” she said, “what I heard on the bus this morning was that Ms. Guzman told the detective that she’d seen you talking to Sabra out in the parking lot. You know, Friday morning.”

  “What?” He stared at her like she was crazy.

  “Then someone else said she knew you were absent that morning, so...if you were there, she’d probably gone with you.”

  “I was absent because I had an orthodontist appointment. It’s hard to get in after school, ’cuz that’s when everyone wants to go.”