Things Lost In The Fire (15 page)

He heard his father sigh on the other line and felt a stab of bitterness. He knew he was right. “
If you wish to continue being an Odell, you need to stop compromising the family business.
”

“You mean I haven’t already been disowned?” Brody laughed. “And here I thought that ship sailed years ago.”

“
If it were up to me all contact with you would have ceased after that spectacle overseas. Do you know how many months of damage control I had to do to disassociate the firm from your reckless mistakes?
”

“Gee, thanks for the support,” Brody snapped sarcastically. He ran a hand through his hair, disgust in his voice as he continued. “I know you wish I’d just go die in a gutter somewhere, but I won’t do it. I may be a fuck up but I never asked for your help or your charity so you can just leave me the hell alone from now on. Mind your own goddamn business, and if you’re such a great lawyer then you should be able to save Lovett from the pile of shit he’s fallen into.”

He hung up without waiting for a response and tossed the phone aside. His hands were shaking with anger as he covered his face, wishing he could get the old man’s voice out of his head. Over the years he thought he’d gotten used to it, but it still managed to get under his skin. It probably always would. Even after the old man was dead, his disapproval would live on.

His hands fell to his lap as he opened his eyes, taking in the clutter from last night’s research. Printouts detailing the death of Lee Walker and the police findings from that night lay scattered on his coffee table, mixed with photographs of the scene. He sifted through them in an attempt to distract himself.

He’d spent the better part of the night gathering as much information as he could on what happened to Sadie. But no matter how many articles he read or details from the scene he uncovered, none of them would provide the truth. Hell, the cops hadn’t come up with an answer, so how could he? What he needed was to talk to Sadie. And to talk to Sadie, he needed to find her.

He wasn’t positive, but he had a hunch she’d be staying with her mother. And if he was a betting man, which he occasionally was, he’d bet she still lived in that same house up Laurel Canyon.

Feeling a boost of energy at the prospect, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his phone. Next stop, Valerie McRae’s mansion. And hopefully a chance run-in with her talented daughter.

L
IKE SADIE predicted, her mother had no energy for the salon after her treatment. She let Sadie lead her upstairs to her bedroom, her mood drastically different than before. All her sunny optimism was replaced by a dark despair that put tears in her eyes and a snap to her words. She doubled over in pain as she rolled herself into bed, sobs wracking her body.

Sadie held back and watched her, feeling distraught and helpless. Carla fluttered into the room, bearing a tray of hot tea and soup. As she took care of Valerie, Sadie retreated from her mother’s bedroom in silence.

She wandered down the hallway, lost in her own thoughts. Before she realized where she was, she had stopped before her old bedroom. Her eyes took their fill of that haunted place, alarmed to find it looked so different than she remembered.

Her old bed was gone, replaced by a queen bed covered with violet-colored linens. All her furniture—the desk with all her school books, the dresser where Lee had laid his gun, the wicker armchair her grandmother had given her—were missing. In their place was a modern-looking white dresser and a matching padded bench at the end of the bed. She drifted into the room and lowered herself onto it, her heart a heavy stone within her chest.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the unfamiliar scent of the room. There was no evidence of her left anywhere. It had been scrubbed clean, leaving no trace of the fifteen years she’d lived there or of the nightmare that drove her away. For that, at least, she was grateful.

In all the years since, she had never once set foot in the room. Until now. Now that her mother was dying and likely wouldn’t see Christmas or maybe even fall. Tears fell down her cheeks as she wondered what the hell the point had been in coming here. Why put herself through so much pain by reliving the past and witnessing the death of her own mother? What difference was it going to make in the end?

Her eyes squeezed tight and she wrapped her arms around herself, starving for comfort and finding none. She was foolish to think she was strong enough to handle this. Ridiculously self-righteous to think she could make a difference or somehow atone for years of neglecting the only mother she’d ever have. All those years of hate seemed so petty in the face of what her mother was going through.

She hadn’t been strong enough then and she felt no stronger now. Deep down she still harbored that hate and despised herself for it. Wiping away the tears, she glanced up at the doorway to the room and for the briefest of moments pictured Lee Walker standing there, menacing and cruel. His dark eyes were locked on her hungrily, lustfully. That old fear rose within her like a crushing wave and sent her mind spinning.

She remembered the feel of his hands grabbing her, the burning slap to the face that stunned her senseless. The morbid twist of his mouth as he took pleasure in hurting her, as though her useless acts of defense amused him.

The rest was vague, like the name of an old acquaintance that lingers on the tip of your tongue. She knew he’d pinned her to the bed. Somehow she remembered the oppressive weight of his body and how much his hands hurt her wrists as he held her down. What he’d said to her or what she’d pleaded for were lost, but the sensation of being crushed by a mountain remained. Then he’d struck her again—at least, that’s what she assumed happened. All she remembered was the hot, horrendous flash of pain and the dizzying darkness that saved her from experiencing his assault on her body.

At least, if he’d been able to follow through on his plans.

She stared at the doorway again, visualizing her dresser where it used to stand beside the door and wishing she had seen the person who’d come in to save her. Why hadn’t she? She remembered the explosion, could recall the crash of his body and the emptiness of his eyes. What else was there? Surely the answer lay somewhere in her memories…

Disappointment filled her, knowing it was gone. If she hadn’t remembered in the days following the assault, how could she remember now, eleven years later? It was simply a mystery she would never solve.

With one last look around the room, she felt an odd sense of closure. Maybe she would never learn the truth of who killed Lee Walker, but at least she could put the past to rest. And if—or rather, when—her mother passed on, maybe all those old demons would die right along with her.

BRODY WAITED in his car a short distance from Valerie’s driveway, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Over thirty minutes had passed since he’d watched Sadie pull up the driveway with her mother and disappear behind the security gate. Thirty long minutes of wondering if he’d missed his chance for the day and should take a hike and go home.

Then he spotted Sadie’s car slowly creeping down the driveway. Anticipation filled him when he realized she was alone. It was now or never.

He slipped from the car and leaned casually against the driver’s side door, folding his arms over his black T-shirt. He grinned at her and waved as she drove by, pleased when she came to an abrupt stop. The look of stunned surprise on her face was quickly replaced with suspicion, then by a hint of fear as he motioned for her to roll down her passenger window.

She rolled it down a few inches, regarding him with a cool stare as he approached. “You know, I don’t make a habit of talking to paparazzi.”

“Glad you made an exception.” Brody continued to smile as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He eyed her through the slim crack in the window, his eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses. “I take it Tess filled you in, then.”

“She told me some things. She’d kill me if she knew I was talking to you. Apparently you’re bad news.”

He laughed. “Not much has changed, has it?”

Sadie’s lips curved, bringing out that dimple he missed so much. “No, not really. So what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again and since you forgot to give me your number, I figured I’d find you here.”

“I just dropped by. I’ve been staying at my dad’s old house.” She bit down on her lip, unsure if she could trust him. “Look, I don’t want anyone knowing I’m in town.”

“I get that.” He leaned in closer to the cracked open window, then rested his arms on the door frame when she rolled the glass down all the way. The scent of her perfume, all warm vanilla and feminine honeysuckle, assaulted his senses and he lost himself in it for a moment. When she only stared at him expectantly, he smiled again. “If I promise not to tell a soul about seeing you, will you have lunch with me?”

She considered his offer, weighing the pros and cons in her head. It
would
be nice to catch up, and she couldn’t ignore the nervous excitement that coursed through her just by seeing him. Then again, she still didn’t trust him. He needed to prove himself, but first she needed to give him the chance. “Okay. But only on my terms.”

“Hit me.”

“We go to the restaurant of my choice, sit in the back and you leave your camera and any voice recording equipment in the car.”

“You drive a hard bargain, McRae. But we have a deal.” He slapped the door frame and grinned. “Lead the way.”

He walked back to his car and hopped inside. He followed her down Laurel Canyon and onto Sunset Boulevard, where she detoured down a few side streets before turning into a small lot behind a quaint, hole-in-the-wall café. He understood her preference when he walked inside and found it cozy and private, with small booths tucked safely behind beautiful plants and ornamental screens. They took a seat at one of the booths and he got his first real good look at her.

Without the black wig and makeup she looked just like he remembered, only refined. He drank in the old, familiar lines of her face, curious to know how much the girl inside had changed.

She glanced up from the menu and caught him staring. She blushed, then tried to hide her face behind her hair. Seeing her embarrassment delighted him in ways he couldn’t explain.

“You know, you don’t look any different,” he mused, not even bothering with the menu. He was too fascinated by the subtle curve of her smile and the nervous, fluttery way she moved. All her calm composure seemed to crack now that they were in such close proximity.

“I certainly feel different,” she replied, unable to look him in the eye. Her stomach was a riot of nerves only made worse by his intense stare. Had he always looked at her that way?

Sympathy darkened his mood, knowing full well what changed her. “I’m sure you do.”

A waiter came by and took their drink order. When he left, Sadie chanced a look up at Brody and attempted a smile. “You don’t look much different, either.”

“And here I thought you barely remembered me.”

“Of course I remember you.” She tilted her head and eyed him curiously. “I can tell life hasn’t been easy on you.”

“I haven’t been easy on life,” Brody joked, trying to hide the unease he felt at her words. He shrugged it off, keeping the mood lighthearted. “You know what I did. I live with that guilt every day. But hey, we all have our demons.”

Sorrow creased her brow, emotion clouding her eyes. “Funny how much those demons change us.”