WHO KILLED EMMALINE? (6 page)

When I arrive home after my shift, I find the porch light on and my mom sitting in one of the wicker chairs. The last thing I want is another confrontation after a long day of school and an evening of training at my new job, but I know this is one that I can’t avoid. Judging by her set expression, she’s not letting me in the house until we talk.

I walk up the stairs and set my shopping bags down beside the closest chair, then I slump down into it. “Mom,” I greet.

“What’s in the bags?”

“Clothes from the store. It’s preferred that I wear their merchandise when I’m working. Look, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Dane himself brought up the rumors and what happened last year. He’s been nothing but upfront and kind,” I explain.

“That doesn’t mean he’s innocent,” she points out as she sets aside her coffee mug.

“Just because he was a suspect doesn’t mean he’s guilty, either. Can’t we just agree to disagree on this one? I promise that if I notice anything weird, or if I start fearing for my safety, I’ll quit immediately.”

My mom is quiet a moment as she studies me. “I’ve always tried to let you make your own decisions, because that’s the best way for you to learn. But fearing for your safety is a whole other story, Krista. I can’t ignore the rumors or brush them off like you’re evidently doing.”

“I get that, but you also have to realize that I’ll be eighteen soon. I’m old enough to be deciding for myself what’s best. I’m not stupid, you know. If I think there’s any chance he could be guilty, I’m out of there.”

She’s silent as she gazes at me, and I can see emotions flickering over her face as she debates on whether to push the topic further or not. “Okay, I’ll let it go for now, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be approaching the topic again at a later date,” she relents.

“That sounds fair,” I agree.

“There’s more that I wanted to talk to you about.” Her eyes soften. “Hon, as much as I understand your need to share how you’re feeling, you need to work on your attitude. It’s straining my relationship with Mitch. He’s already concerned about you and Riley not getting along, and now things are tense in the house. It’s stressing not only him out but me, too. We knew going into this that we weren’t going to become a family immediately, but there isn’t any chance of it ever happening if you don’t let go of your anger towards me.” She leans forward with sincere eyes. “I get that we completely uprooted you without giving you much notice. We are so very sorry that moving here has been so difficult, but you’re here now, Krista. It’s time to move forward, not backwards. And as much as you’re going to hate hearing this, I don’t care what age you are, I am still your mother, and I still deserve your respect.”

We rarely fight, and I think this is the longest disagreement we’ve ever had. It’s not like staying mad at her will change anything, so I sigh and nod in agreement. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make things more difficult for you guys, I’m just having a hard time finding anything worth being happy about.”

She sighs, running a hand through her sleek hair. “That Riley sure messed things up for you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“As much as I would like to give that boy a piece of my mind, I am trying to be understanding about it for Mitch’s sake.”

“It sucks, but I understand. Mom, are you happy here? I mean, do you see yourself
really
being happy here?” I ask as I gaze out at the darkened trees in the yard. I have to admit that tonight, the quietness doesn’t bother me quite as much as it usually does. It feels peaceful, and I enjoy the faint sounds of crickets chirping.

“So far, I like it better than the city. Though I am having a hard time finding a job. I applied at the local salon here in town, but they said they weren’t hiring. I’ve started applying in Manchester, so hopefully I can get a job soon and help with the bills.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a job in no time,” I say optimistically.

The last person I expect to find at my locker before lunch is Cord Bodine. He’s just lounging against it as if he doesn’t have a care in the world while ignoring the other students who are giving him curious stares as they walk past.

My eyes helplessly run over him, because he’s just so dang fine to look at. Today he’s wearing a gray, V-neck tee and dark jeans, with his ever present black boots on his feet. I watch as he straightens when he sees me, and his eyes seem to cool even further.

If he is so unhappy to see me, why is he waiting on me? I pause in front of him and look at him expectantly. “Why are you at my locker?”

He tucks his hands in his front jeans pockets as he gazes down at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks dryly.

“If it were obvious, I wouldn’t be asking. You’re blocking my locker.”

He shifts to the side, and I move up to my locker to spin the dial—all the while feeling very aware of him. If I move my body a couple inches to the left, my arm would probably graze his. The second my locker is unlocked, I open the door so that it can be used as a divider between us. It’s not that his closeness is a bad thing, it’s more along the lines that I feel very attracted to him. I don’t think it’s wise to start falling for a guy like Cord.

As I put my books away, he says nothing. I can feel his eyes on me though, and he’s studying me. I can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at me. I shut the locker door and turn to meet his probing gaze. “So why are you stalking my locker?”

He doesn’t crack a smile, but I can sense that he’s amused. “C’mon, trouble. You’re better off with me during lunch.” He adjusts his black backpack over his broad shoulder and saunters away.

I blink, completely caught off guard that he intends for us to eat lunch together. Curiosity has me hurrying to catch up so that I can fall into step with him as we walk down the hall. “So is this going to be a daily thing? Eating lunch together?”

We reach an exit that leads outside, and he pushes the door open, motioning politely for me to step through the doorway first. “Until they leave you alone, yes,” he clips out.

I step out onto the school grounds, conscious of Cord following me. We both automatically start walking in the direction of the tree he likes to sit against, and I ignore the looks we’re receiving from the other students.

Cord sits down against the base of the tree and opens his backpack as he digs out his sketch pad.

I settle on the grass a few feet from him and feel awkward. I’m wishing I’d have thought to bring my homework out here or something. “Why?” I ask, referring to the comment he’d made as we’d exited the building.

He doesn’t look up as he begins pulling his hair back, then he uses a rubber band to keep it in place at the nape of his neck. He then picks up his sketch pad and pencil. “I can’t stand most of the people in this school, but Riley Channing is my main reason,” he says. Now that my question has been answered, he gets to work drawing.

He’s sitting at an angle, so once again, I can’t see what he’s drawing, and now I’m extremely curious to see what holds his focus so intently during lunch period. “What does Riley have to do with anything?” I watch his pencil scrape across the paper in broad, sure strokes.

Cord’s lips pull up into a smirk, and his green eyes meet mine. “He thought you were going to be his own personal plaything to torture here at school. It’s always fun taking away the toy, so to speak.”

“So that’s what this is about? You two have some sort of rivalry?”

“Something like that.” His attention shifts back to his drawing.

I’m tempted to lean closer to him to peer at it, but I think that would be pushing his limit of generosity today. He’s being kind enough to allow me to sit with him to keep me from being harassed, so the least I can do is be respectful of his personal space.

With not much else to do, I chew my bottom lip out of boredom and watch the other students. Riley and his goons aren’t out here today, and everyone else looks happy and chatty. Someone will look this way every so often, but other than that, we’re completely ignored. After all the crap I had to deal with yesterday, I’ll gladly take being overlooked today.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Cord’s voice cuts into my thoughts, and I turn my attention on him. “I brought money.”

Realization dawns across his face when it sinks in that he’d ushered me out here before I could buy myself anything from the cafeteria. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a banana, his eyes meet mine as he holds it out. “Here.”

I look at the banana he’s offering before meeting his gaze once again. “I don’t want to eat your lunch.”

“I’m not hungry, so you might as well eat it.”

Feeling a bit awkward, I accept the banana. “Thank you.”

He nods and goes back to drawing.

I carefully begin peeling the banana, all the while trying not to stare at the enigma that is Cord Bodine.

“You look different.”

When I hear Cord’s voice, I look up with a start from where I’d been organizing the studded and spiked belts in the men’s section of Cordane’s. I’d come here directly from school, and this evening, Dane has me working the register and organizing the store when there’s a lull between customers. I’d had no idea that Cord would be in tonight, and I feel self-conscious in my new outfit. I’m wearing a black, form-fitting shirt with a collage of grinning skulls on it. I’d paired the shirt with my only pair of black jeans and my black sneakers. I’m perfectly aware that I still don’t exactly fit in, but I’m still hesitant to go full-out and buy some studded skirts or hipster trousers. Though the women’s combat boots have caught my attention plenty tonight. There’s a pair that might be worth splurging on and wearing outside of the store. They’re too expensive just to wear here once in a while, I’d want to get my use out of them.

I meet Cord’s gaze and smile sheepishly. “I look weird. I don’t think I can pull off the store’s look very well.”

His eyes skim over me slowly, and I can tell when his focus zeroes in on my hips and breasts. “I think you pull it off just fine.” His eyes lift to mine. “There is no unwritten rule that you have to wear all black, or dye your hair, or wear as much body jewelry as you can. Everyone who comes in here likes to create their own unique style, so find your own for when you’re here, and you’ll fit in just like everyone else.”

Warmth spreads through me. “Thanks. I didn’t realize you worked tonight.”

“I don’t. I’m just doing a couple of things in the back before taking off.”

An uncomfortable silence descends over us.

“I need to clean out the fitting rooms,” I murmur.

I step around him and make my way to the cave-like hall. All the doors of the rooms are open but for two, which means they are in use. I enter the first door on the right, and a motion-censored light flickers to life inside the room. There’s discarded clothing hanging on a hook, and I walk over to pick up the half-dozen or so shirts. When I turn around, I find that Cord has followed me.

He leans into the doorway, his hands braced on either side of the doorframe as he blocks my exit. His body language is relaxed, and his expression is curious. “I didn’t realize you were the one Dane hired until tonight.”

I pause before him. The lights from the hallway behind him cast red shadows along his body, causing him to look faintly sinister. “Does my working here bother you?” I ask. He doesn’t seem annoyed by my presence or anything.

“Depends on your motives,” he says simply.

“What other motive do I need other than life sucks in Ambler Ridge? Can you move, please?” I ask lightly, motioning that he’s in my way.

He shifts his masculine frame and backs up into the hall, giving a grand sweeping gesture to show that I can now pass through the fitting room doorway.

“Smartass,” I toss at him.

Then, I walk past him and enter the next fitting room to find some men’s clothing scattered on the floor. I add it to the pile of clothing in my arms and turn around to find that Cord is standing in the doorway again, silently watching me. There’s something strange in his expression and most definitely unsettling. I motion that he’s in my way again, but this time he doesn’t budge.

“What?” I ask, gazing at him hesitantly now.

“We don’t scare you, why is that?” he asks as his eyes roam over my face.

We hear one of the fitting room doors open, and a lanky guy walks past us, glancing at us briefly before exiting the hall and disappearing back into the store.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “The brutality of Emmaline’s death is horrific, but I have a hard time connecting you and Dane with it.”

“You don’t even know us,” he points out.

“I know.” I give him a shrug. “Maybe it’s easier for me to be disconnected from it, because I didn’t know her,” I offer.

“Possibly.”

His facial expression is hard to read, and because I’m not moving around and have been standing still, the motion-censor light blinks out overhead, leaving me encased in darkness while the red lights from the hallway outline Cord.

I should be frightened, but I’m not. Since I’m not feeling threatened, I make no move to draw the light back on. “You don’t mind talking about her?” I ask cautiously.

Even in the dim light, I can feel him cooling towards me, his earlier curiosity replaced by detachment. “I didn’t love her. I don’t even think I liked her.”

Okay, now
that
causes a trickle of apprehension to surface, but I still make no move to retreat or draw the light back on. There’s a part of me that wants to prove to him that he doesn’t frighten me, though after that chilling comment, it might be wise to ignore my pride and bolt.

His eyes burn into mine, and they are black from the shadows. “Does that scare you, that
I
can be so disconnected from it as well?” he asks, his voice smooth as silk, as if he’s taunting me but yet seducing me at the same time. I get the feeling that he’s trying to scare me off without being a dick about it.

Shit. This is
not
a conversation I want to be having with Cord Bodine of all people. I decide that for this type of situation, honesty is probably my best option. “Truthfully, yes, it does in a way,” I tell him.

Something shifts in his gaze. “You should be scared, because if I didn’t kill Emmaline, someone else did. Someone you might have already met or passed on the street, or someone you’ve smiled at since you’ve arrived in town.”

My mouth goes dry.

He steps forward slightly, and I tense. His movement causes the light to flicker on, and his face is now clear for me to see, and his green eyes hold mine with a wealth of warning in their depths. “Don’t be too disconnected from it, Krista. Someone killed one girl already. What makes you think the killer won’t strike again?” He turns and walks away instead of waiting for me to reply, leaving me alone in the fitting room.

I blow out a wary breath.

Damn.

My heart is pounding in my chest much faster than it should be. Someone else in my shoes might take what he’d said as a threat, but I know that it’s just a warning and nothing more. He’s warning me to stay alert and not brush off the murder. Does he know something that no one else does? Now that thought
is
a bit alarming.

Since I still have a job to do, I exit the fitting room and calmly walk back out into the store. I decide to refold the discarded clothing behind the counter, and I grab a few extra hangers from the bin underneath it. Cord is nowhere to be seen, and I hadn’t expected him to stick around.

A group of teenagers draw my attention, and my conversation with Cord fades as I help them find what they’re looking for. It’s about half an hour later that my mom finds me in the men’s section, arranging a rack of shirts by size.

I stare at her with surprise. I’d never thought that she’d attempt to set foot in the store. “Mom. What are you doing here?”

She looks completely out of place in her white jeans and colorful blouse. Her eyes dart around the store briefly before settling on my face with a hint of disapproval. “I thought I would come see this store that you’re so fascinated with.”

“Well, now you’ve seen it,” I say with a smile as my surprise wears off.

Her eyes drop to my shirt, and her lips press flat against one another before I see her visibly forcing herself to relax. “Show me around?” she asks lightly.

“Mom, none of this stuff is going to interest you,” I warn.

“Humor me. I’m trying to find a way to accept this job of yours, so show me around so I can see for myself what you’re doing in the evenings.”

My lips twitch as I fight back a smile. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She gives me a warning look. “If this place sells sex toys, you’re walking out of here with me when I leave.”

I begin to lead her around the store. “I can assure you, there are no sex toys,” I say with a laugh.

She tries to keep a politely interested expression on her face, but once we reach the corsets, her lips flatten again. “Corsets, Krista?”

Feeling in the mood to needle her a little, I pull out a sexy, black corset with buckles down the front. “I might buy this one to wear tomorrow. I could pair it with this black skirt I saw earlier that has safety pins going down the sides. Did you notice that skirt? I could buy some combat boots and it would complete the outfit. It’d be so badass that it might be worth even wearing to school,” I announce.

My mom’s eyes narrow on me as I hold the corset up to my chest.

I hear someone clear their throat, and both my mom and I look up.

Dane has approached us, and his eyes are amused as he takes in the corset I am holding and the sight of my mom glaring at me. He walks over and holds out his hand to her. “Hello, I’m Dane. I’m going to go out on a limb here and ask are you Krista’s mother?” he asks warmly.

I wasn’t expecting Dane to interrupt my fun, but now that I see my mom’s eyes widening as she stares at Dane, I begin to realize this might be more enjoyable.

She visibly swallows and tentatively shakes his hand. “Yes, I am Krista’s mother. Jolene Channing,” she introduces politely.

“I’m Dane, welcome to Cordane’s. If I thought you were genuinely interested in our merchandise, I would give you a tour myself, but I’m guessing you’re here because of me,” he says lightly.

My mom blinks at his boldness, and then she actually flushes. “I…well…”

Dane’s expression turns serious and quite sincere. “I can assure you Mrs. Channing, no harm will come to Krista when she’s in my care here at the store. Rumors can have very nasty repercussions, and unfortunately, my reputation has taken quite a hit from them. I have a hard time holding onto employees, but your daughter has decided to judge for herself whether this is the right job for her instead of allowing others to make that decision for her. You’ve raised a very smart and honest young lady, and I am grateful that I can count on her to handle the store.”

My mom looks like she’s at a loss for words.

There’s a discernable twitch to Dane’s lips as he turns his attention on me. “Krista, I do have rules pertaining to employee dress code. The corset won’t be happening.” He turns back to my mom. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Channing. I’ll leave you to continue your conversation with your daughter, and if you should have any questions at all regarding Krista’s job or her safety, feel free to contact me.”

“Thank you,” my mom murmurs, and then we both watch as Dane walks off towards the back of the store.

I turn to study her as I try to gauge her mood.

She focuses her attention on me once he’s out of sight, and she frowns. “He’s an odd man.”

“Yes, but he’s also very upfront and has been nothing but kind and respectful towards me. Mom, you’re worrying for nothing.”

“We’ll see,” she sighs.