Things Lost In The Fire (13 page)

W
HAT DO you know that you’re not telling me?”

Tess shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” Sadie pouted, turning to stare out the passenger window as Tess drove her home. The beautiful city lights did little to distract her from the burning questions in her mind. “Why did you act that way to Brody?”

When Tess said nothing, Sadie glanced over at her. She saw her friend looking, surprisingly, at a loss for words.

“I guess I’m surprised you don’t already know,” Tess finally admitted, keeping her eyes on the road. Lights flashed over her face, casting odd shadows that darkened her eyes. “Then again, you’ve been living in the boondocks for the last decade. You probably don’t keep up with the news.”

An icy ball of dread dropped into Sadie’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

Anger tightened Tess’s face and chased away her apprehension. “About two years ago he was one of the top photojournalists in the country. He had a gift. He could get the most incredible photographs you’d ever seen. Uprisings, protests, war—if there was something happening across the Atlantic you could bet he was there with his camera, ready to record history.
National Geographic
was even interested in him which is rare, especially for someone so young. Anyway, he went to the Middle East to cover our military’s advances in Afghanistan. Apparently while he was there he botched an operation that resulted in the deaths of two Marines. His reckless actions led to their deaths at the hands of Taliban insurgents who’d been hiding in a marketplace. He was forced to resign, give up his career, and was essentially blacklisted by the industry. And rightfully so.”

Sadie’s mouth fell open, her heart panging. “He lost everything?”

A dark smile crossed Tess’s face. “Yep. The fancy house in Malibu, the job, the accolades, many of his friends…I remember hearing people gossip about how he was a loose cannon just waiting to explode and no one wanted to be there when it happened. We all expected him to fight back, but instead he kind of just disappeared for awhile. Then when he resurfaced again, he was a paparazzi getting shots of celebrities for the tabloids. Talk about a fall from grace.”

Sadie’s hands clenched tightly in her lap, images of the hungry press after that horrific night eleven years before flashing through her mind. “Paparazzi?”

Tess shot her a sympathetic look. “Now you know why I freaked out. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but it had to be done. You
cannot
talk to him, Sadie. As it is, he’s probably already counting dollar signs over what your exposure will net him.”

Sadie felt lightheaded. “Oh.”

They pulled into the driveway of Sadie’s house and Tess shut off the engine. She reached over and held Sadie’s hand in hers. “Don’t worry, okay? I want this to be a happy night for you.”

“It was…” Sadie trailed off, numbness taking over her body. She stared blankly out the windshield. “I was so happy to see him that I didn’t even think twice about what he was doing there.”

“There’s no way he could have found out before the show. Nobody knew but you and me.”

“Then that only leaves one explanation,” Sadie realized dully, turning to face her friend. “He was in the crowd by happenchance, and he recognized me.”

“I don’t—”

“I knew this would happen,” Sadie interrupted with a cynical half laugh. She shook her head and turned away. “I’m so stupid for thinking I could get away with this.”

“Honey, we’ll figure it out.” Tess tried to comfort her, but Sadie slid from the car with her purse.

She leaned back in and tried to smile. “Thanks for everything, Tess. Really. I had fun tonight.”

Tess started to reply, only to be cut off by the door closing. Sadie walked toward the house, keys in hand. Moments later, she was shut inside and safe.

Unable to do more, she leaned against the front door and closed her eyes. A tear fell down her cheek, silent and unwanted.

Her entire future hinged on Brody keeping his word.

ON THE drive back to Venice Beach, all Brody could think about was her.

He was sure that at that very moment, Sadie’s opinion of him was being drastically changed. Clearly she had no idea what he had done or who he’d become. If she had, then her reaction would have mirrored Tess’s to the letter. Hell, a paparazzi at her debut concert under an alias? That was a recipe for disaster and Tess had been right to put a stop to it. Though the fact that Sadie didn’t know the truth meant she’d been more sheltered than he had assumed.

Not that he wasn’t confident he could change her mind. He’d charmed his way into her life once, he could do it again. And this time there wasn’t just a friendship in store for him. Now there was a mystery to solve and possibly a big cash payout if he played his cards right.

Though, he had to admit that the idea of exposing her made him feel downright slimy. And not just slimy, but a lower-than-dirt-and-grimier-than-scum kind of slimy. All he could picture was that fear in her eyes when she asked him if he would talk to the press. It had given such a haunting beauty to her features that made him want to gather her up and protect her from all the evil of the world. Why the hell he felt that way, he had no idea. He’d never felt that about anyone before.

Shaking off the thought, he pulled into a spot on the street and climbed out of his car. He whistled to himself as he walked, kicking his thoughts into more serious matters. He needed to find out everything he could about Sadie McRae post-2002. And maybe with a little help from her, he could even solve the mystery of who shot Lee Walker. That would sure get his father’s attention and maybe even restore an ounce of his reputation within the journalism circles. All he needed was to find a way to contact her.

He unlocked his apartment, immediately going to the fridge for a beer. With a Corona in hand he sat down on the couch and opened his laptop.

He Googled her name first, curious to see when she’d last been mentioned in the news. He took a sip of his beer as he watched the results filter in, the first one a Wikipedia article. Clicking on it, he read through her biography and the well known details of what transpired the night Lee Walker tried to rape her. Most of it was stuff he already knew, things he remembered from the months following the incident.

She’d been cornered in her bedroom, slapped around, and almost raped. Then when she’d been on the verge of passing out, someone had come into the room, grabbed Lee Walker’s gun from the dresser, and shot him. He’d died on the spot, right in front of Sadie. By all accounts she’d watched him die, but had blacked out before seeing the shooter. He’d always wondered if she
had
seen the person’s face, but was covering up the person’s identity. Why she would do that when it was clearly an act of defense, he wasn’t sure. Unless, in some strange twist of circumstance, it wasn’t. Was the killing of Lee Walker really as black and white as the police made it out to be?

He clicked back to the search results and found a scattering of websites about the scandal.
Time Magazine
called it one of the “Top Ten Unsolved Crimes in Los Angeles History” and a few websites spelled out every little detail of the investigation that was made public. He skimmed through them, absorbing it all like a sponge.

There were a few articles from a couple years back that mentioned the scandal, but nothing substantial. As he scrolled down, he caught websites that talked about Sadie’s parents and their careers, with only brief mentions of the daughter they shared.

In the end, no one had talked about Sadie McRae or bothered to find her for several years. She’d practically disappeared from the public eye. Poof. Gone. No more.

So then why was she suddenly in Hollywood, performing under an alias? He realized he’d missed the opportunity to ask her. He’d been so caught up in the nostalgia of seeing her again that it had slipped his mind.

Next time he wouldn’t let himself forget. Once he found her there was no stopping him from getting the truth.

On impulse, he clicked into the search result images. Pictures of her at fifteen years old popped up, one a school picture from Harvard-Westlake. It was the one that was spread around the most in the wake of what had happened. Other images were of her parents, some outside the courtroom or candid street shots from the tabloids. His eyes caught one image in particular showing Ben McRae leading Sadie out of the hospital, likely taken the day after it happened.

His brows furrowed as he stared at the image, sorrow washing over him. She looked terrified. Wounded, broken, and lost. The camera captured the wide, haunted look of her eyes and the pale, pasty tone of her skin. He also noticed that her father clutched her arm in a way that suggested he felt more inconvenienced than grateful his daughter wasn’t hurt. Anger built within him at the thought. She’d deserved so much better than what she got. It was a shame that so nice a person could suffer at the hands of monsters.

Heart heavy with emotion, he clicked into another picture, this time of her on a college campus at about twenty years old. She read quietly beneath a tree, and clearly had no idea someone was taking photographs of her. Her waves of blonde hair fell down her lower back, and round sunglasses hid her eyes. She was beautiful, even then.

Even now, he realized. Not that he wanted to dwell on it, but she’d blossomed into quite a woman. A woman who, if she had any brain in her head, would stay as far away from him as possible.

He grunted and shut his laptop, too tired to look at her picture anymore. As bad as he felt for her, he still wanted to know the truth. The hunger for it would eat him alive before long.

Somehow, some way, he was going to find her and get answers.

A
TEXT MESSAGE jolted Sadie awake. She blindly reached for her cell phone on the nightstand, wincing against the morning sun that filtered through the windows. Her eyes struggled to focus on the screen as she read the message from Tess.

They LOVED you. Congrats, girl!

A smile spread over Sadie’s lips, excitement chasing away the last dredges of sleep. Without hesitating she jumped out of bed, raced into the dining room, and opened her laptop. Within minutes she was poring over news articles about her performance.

After basking in the glow of praise from fans and critics alike, she realized she should do a quick search and make sure no one had figured out her secret. Other than Brody, of course. But from the looks of it he’d kept his word. So far, anyway.

She went back to reading an article about her show, biting her thumbnail as she absorbed every last word. At the bottom was a link to her most popular YouTube video, her performance of her song “All These Flames.” When she clicked on it, her eyes went straight to the number of views and widened.

Her mouth fell open stupidly as she stared at the number, now edging close to one million. Within hours, it would likely surpass that. Giddiness swept over her at the thought.

The idea of her music reaching so many people brought a lump of gratitude to her throat. If it hadn’t been for Tess pushing her, she would have never done the show. Time would tell if it was a good idea, but the doubt and anguish she felt the night before melted away. Confidence replaced it and filled her with hope.

She closed the laptop and went into the kitchen to make coffee, her steps lighter and a smile on her face. Humming to herself, she arranged the coffee filter and filled the pot with water. Her eyes flitted outside the kitchen window to the view of Los Angeles, and her heart swelled.