WHO KILLED EMMALINE? (17 page)

“Krista, is there any part of you that thinks I did it?” Cord asks softly.

I look at him and see the concern in his gaze. I rise up to my knees and move closer to him, touching the side of his face. “If you frightened me, or if there were any doubts, I wouldn’t be in the middle of the woods all alone with you. I wouldn’t have allowed you to seduce me in that fitting room, either,” I point out.

He reaches out and settles his warm hands on my waist as he widens his legs so that I am kneeling between them. “You look at me differently than everyone else does.”

“I do?” I run my hands through his hair, and I straighten my back so that I am peering down at him while he has to look up.

He draws me closer so that my hips are pressed against his upper chest, his warm hands curving around my butt. “I can’t explain it, but the way you look at me is fucking addicting.”

I smile in response, and his eyes roam over the swell of my breasts beneath my light jacket. I know what he’s thinking. We’d agreed to hold off on sex so that we could navigate this relationship slowly, but now that we are completely alone for the morning and afternoon with no interruptions…

It’s very, very tempting.

“You know what I think?” I murmur.

He looks up at me. “What?”

“I think a little sex isn’t going to hurt anything.”

A wicked smile curves his lips. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Feeling bold, I stay hovering over him as I unzip my jacket. His eyes are intent as he watches my every move. After discarding my jacket, I reach for the hem of my shirt and slowly ease it up and over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Cord’s eyes take in my lace covered breasts, and he leans forward, pressing an openmouthed kiss to my belly, causing my insides to quiver with anticipation.

I sink my hands back in his hair as his mouth roams over my stomach. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t give you my body,” I whisper.

Cord looks up at me with heated eyes. “I want to spend the day inside you.”

“I want that, too.”

He shifts and urges me to lie back on the blanket. I ease onto it, staring up at him as he strips off his own jacket, then his shirt. I reach up, running my fingertips over his abs. I love his body, and this time, I want to explore it. Cord has other ideas though, and he shifts so that he’s practically lying on top of me as his lips claim mine. As we kiss, the rain turns into a heavy downpour, and it drowns out my gasps as my bra disappears and Cord’s lips roam over the pert tips of my breasts. I arch my back, fists tightening in his hair as I give myself up to the pleasure he’s giving me. When he feels he’s had enough of my breasts, his lips trail down my quivering belly until he reaches with one hand and starts unbuttoning my jeans. He still hovers over my lower stomach, and his head lifts so that his eyes can meet mine. The smile on his face turns devilish as he slowly unzips my jeans.

“Cord?” I ask huskily.

His eyes roam over my nearly naked body, and his expression darkens with anticipation. “The great thing about being out in the woods alone is that no one can hear you scream,” he says in a low, seductive voice.

My heart skips a beat, but I know he’s not threatening me. Just the opposite. “Confident much?”

His eyes hold mine as he tugs my jeans down my hips, then my panties. “I didn’t get to hear you in the fitting room because of the music. Today, I want to hear every gasp and moan you make.” He turns away briefly to nimbly unbuckle my boots and pull them off. When I’m completely naked, his eyes return to mine. “But right now, I’m determined to see how loud you get when I’m going down on you,” and he lowers his head and begins kissing my lower belly. Those heated lips trail downwards, and my breath catches as I dig my fingers into the blanket, clenching the fabric into my fists. At the first touch of his lips, my back arches, and I know that I’m going to experience pleasure like I have never experienced before.

I manage to drag myself out of bed around ten the next morning. I’d worked at Cordane’s an hour later than normal because the store had been packed, and Owen needed help shutting the store down. Cord and Dane had been stuck in the back most of the evening applying makeup and prosthetics to dozens of people who work at local and nearby haunted house attractions. It was crazy hectic, and by the time I’d arrived home last night, I’d stripped down to my panties, pulled on a tank, and dropped into bed. Thankfully today is Saturday, and I’d been able to sleep in.

With a giant yawn, I pull on a sweatshirt and lounge pants. Since I’m too lazy to take a shower yet, I pull my hair up into a loose knot and make my way down the stairs to the kitchen. I find my mom loading the dishwasher.

“Morning,” I greet.

My mom turns on me, and her eyes tighten in the corners as she points at the table. “Sit,” she orders.

I look down at myself. “Did I turn into a dog overnight?”

“Krista, now is not the time to be making smart remarks. Sit down.”

She’s mad. My eyes lift back to hers, and I frown as I walk over to the table and sink down into one of the chairs. “Am I in trouble or something?”

Her hands settle on her hips as she stares me down. “Depends. Does skipping school sound like a reason to be in trouble?”

“Oh. You’re upset over that? It was just one day,” I say lightly, hoping this will just blow over. I don’t regret skipping school at all. I’d experienced great sex, and cuddling with a naked Cord tops my list of favorite things to do—after sex, of course. If he asks me to skip with him next week, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh?’ You can’t be skipping school! Where were you?” she demands.

It’s too early for this, and I pull my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and prop my chin on it as I fight back another yawn. “Can you at least sit down so we can have a civilized conversation? You standing over me and yelling isn’t going to accomplish anything other than an argument.”

Her eyes narrow, and I swear she grinds her teeth before she reluctantly pulls out a chair and sits down across from me. “Where were you?” she asks calmly.

I could try lying, but she’s not going to believe I’d skipped school to spend the day by myself. I’m a little wary of telling her about Cord, but even if she does get upset, she can’t stop me from seeing him.

“Krista?” she prods.

“I skipped school with Cord,” I tell her, deciding I might as well tell the truth. If I don’t, I’m betting Riley would if he ever found out that I was keeping it from her.

“Cord? Why does that name sound familiar?” Her forehead scrunches up as she tries to place the name.

“Cord Bodine,” I offer helpfully.

Her eyes widen. “Bodine? As in the boy that was suspected of killing that poor girl? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Mom, you can’t believe every rumor that goes around. Yes, he was a suspect, but they never arrested him because they have no proof. I know he didn’t do it. If the rest of these judgmental pricks around here would give him half a chance, they’d realize he’s innocent too,” I say as I set my jaw and give her a look, daring her to say otherwise.

My mom is slowly shaking her head, her expression growing alarmed by the minute. “I’ve heard the rumors, Krista. Some of them aren’t just rumors, either. He’s a twisted and sick boy. The things he did to that girl, and the police have proof of it too!” She puts a hand to her chest like she’s about to have a stroke.

Oh hell. Word has gotten back to her about those damn videos on Cord’s laptop. Shit. Maybe I should have just lied my butt off anyway.

Her chair scrapes against the floor as she abruptly stands, arms folding across her chest as she begins to pace. “What did you and that boy do yesterday?”

Yep, now it’s time to definitely lie. “We just talked, Mom. We went back to his house, which he shares with my boss, Dane,” I add on hurriedly before continuing, “and he showed me where he builds stuff for the store. They have a room in their basement where they do a lot of their work.”

“You were alone with him in his basement?” she just about screeches.

“Mom, is Mitch here?” I cut in. If she’s going to flip out, I’d rather him be here to pull her back from a full-out, hysterical meltdown.

“No, he’s not here,” she snaps. She visibly draws in a deep breath and exhales slowly as she regains her composure. Her hand lifts, and she rubs her temple as she resumes her pacing. “So you went to this boy’s house? Are you dating him?” She pauses her pacing to stare me down, and her eyes are flashing that I better tell her what she wants to hear.

“Nope. Not dating at all. He’s just a friend.”

“Are you lying?” she asks suspiciously.

“Would I lie?” I ask innocently.

She makes a face at me. “Yes, you would.” She sighs and walks back to her chair to sit down again. “Are you dating him?” she asks quietly.

“No.”

She nods, looking relieved. “Okay. Can you please stay away from him? For me?”

I lean back in my chair, eyeing her. “Now if I did that, wouldn’t I be turning into one of those judgmental pricks that I mentioned just minutes ago? Look at what they’ve done to me, and I didn’t sleep with the entire football team and never claimed I even wanted to. If they’ve been that unfair to me, what makes you think that what everyone’s doing isn’t unfair to Cord?”

“Oh, honey. If he were anyone else, I’d say go with your gut and do what feels right for yourself. But this boy, I can’t give you my blessing or approval where he’s concerned. I just can’t. It’s too much of a risk, Krista.”

I lean forward in my chair, eyes determined. “Think about it, Mom. I’ve been working at Cordane’s for weeks and nothing has happened. Those two brothers have been nicer to me than anyone else in this town. If they had ulterior motives, don’t you think I’d have been a victim by now?”

“Someone killed that girl,” my mom says stubbornly.

“The Bodine’s have an alibi. So does Riley. If I were friendly with Riley, would you be this upset?”

Her lips tighten.

“Someone did kill Emmaline, but I can guarantee you that it wasn’t Cord or even Dane. It was someone else, and it’s been a year since it happened, so I doubt whoever did it happens to be a serial killer. For all we know, they may have already left town.”

“They’re weird, Krista. Even if they didn’t have anything to do with that murder, they are still strange. Your boss drives around in a hearse for goodness sake, and that boy, he’s…I’m not even going to repeat the things I’ve heard. Both of them are bizarre, and if this town is going to have a killer in its midst, it’d be one of those two!”

She’s not going to relent, and I sigh. “Can we just agree to disagree?”

“No. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the change in your clothes. That boy and his brother are up to no good. I’m beginning to wonder if they’re doing some type of brainwashing when you’re with them,” she accuses.

I’ve had it, and I throw my hands up in the air with exasperation. “So now I can’t experiment with different styles of clothing?”

“They are turning you into whatever they are! Goth or whatever you call it!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I laugh. “That store is about being true to one’s self. We all dress in certain styles that appeal to us. Our clothing helps express who we are. You can call it what you want, but in reality, I am just dressing in a way that makes
me
feel happy.”

“What was wrong with what you wore before?”

“Nothing,” I say truthfully. “I dressed in jeans and sweatshirts because they were comfortable. We all change as we grow, and I think I’ve changed since we left South Bend. I don’t have Sidney and Chelsea here with me to hide behind, and there’s no point in trying to fit in with the crowd anymore, so why should I bother? Moving here has forced me to stand on my own two feet, and while I’ve done that, I’ve learned more about myself. You told me you wanted me to be happy here,” I remind. “Well, I am happy. I’m sorry it doesn’t fit into your expectations, but it shouldn’t matter whether it does or not. As long as I am happy, that’s what should count.”

My mom falls silent as she thinks over what I’d just said, then her eyes soften as she gazes at me. “Oh, honey. I do want you to be happy. It’s just hard when I feel like you’re in some sort of danger when you’re with the Bodine’s. I’m never going to be comfortable with you being around them.”

“I swear to you, they’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’re worrying for nothing, but I can see how you would be concerned. I think you need to realize that I am old enough to make my own decisions, and it’s my risk to take.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “You’ve grown up way too fast.”

“Oh, no. Don’t you cry!” I exclaim with alarm. I hate it when she cries.

Tears trickle down her cheeks. “One day, you were still hugging and kissing me before school, and then the next, you’re a grown woman and making your own decisions. Decisions that scare me.”

I quickly rise to my feet and walk over to her. I lean over and hug her tightly. “I hate you for turning on the waterworks,” I grumble.

She laughs, then hiccups as she hugs me back. “When you have kids of your own, you’ll understand how hard it is to stand back and let your child navigate through life on their own.”

“If motherhood turns me into a blubbering mess, I want no part of it,” I say dryly as I hold her.

“I love you, sweetie. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

I pull back and peer down at her with a wry smile. “I love you, too. Now stop crying, or I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, okay. I’m done now,” she insists. We pull apart, and she wipes at her tears. “Oh, I almost forgot. Mitch is taking you and Riley out to dinner tomorrow evening,” she announces.

I stand there, frozen as her words sink in. “Dinner? Me and Riley?”

She nods and stands up, straightening her shirt. “Yes. He thinks it would be good for you two to spend some time with him.”

“And you’re not coming?” I ask unhappily.

She shakes her head. “I’m not exactly Riley’s favorite person.”

“Neither am I,” I point out.

“You’re the one he’s taking his anger out on, so Mitch thinks taking you both out to dinner might break the ice, so to speak.”

“Mom, it’s the worst plan ever.”

“You never know, it might work.”

“One dinner isn’t going to fix anything,” I say firmly.

I’m certain only a psychiatrist would be able to help Riley sort out his issues. Then I brighten. Maybe I’ll get a chance to confront Riley about my car, and maybe, just maybe, we could come to some sort of an understanding.