Atone (10 page)

I arrive at the agency office a few minutes early. My head finally stopped pounding, but my stomach still isn't happy with me. I missed a lot of things as a teenager, but getting wasted and hungover isn't among them. I wonder how Beau is feeling. He looked worse than I felt when he slipped out of my room. He didn't think I was awake, and I was too sick to move, let alone say a proper goodbye.

The receptionist is at her desk, typing on her computer. She looks up and smiles.

“Hi. I'm here to see Beau.”

“Let me see if he's ready for you.” She goes down the hall and then comes back with Beau trailing behind her.

“Hey.” He gives the receptionist a glance as though he doesn't know how to greet me with her around.

“Hi.” I hold out my hand and we shake like we weren't naked the last time we saw each other.

A corner of his mouth tips up. “Come on back to the office.”

I follow him down the hall. As soon as we're in the room he shuts the door and backs me up against it. His mouth comes down on mine. The kiss is gentle, yet full of the goodbye we should've had this morning and the hello we should've had in the reception area. He lifts his head and looks down at me. There's too much in his expression, and then he blinks and it's gone, as if it was never there.

“I got you something.” He pulls a package of earplugs out of his pocket.

No guy has ever gotten me a present before. It's not flowers, but it's thoughtful and so totally Beau that the backs of my eyes sting. No guy has ever made me cry for a good reason. I'm speechless. It's stupid to get so choked up at such a simple and sort of self-serving gift. I feel ridiculous. To hide my overreaction, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He reacts immediately, hauling me up against him with his big hands on my ass. All of the fire and spark from last night is back, only a thousand times more intense without the dulling effects of alcohol. His mouth is incredible. The things he does with his teeth and tongue.
Oh, my God.

His hands are everywhere and yet not where I want them. He grinds his growing erection against me and stars spark behind my eyelids. I moan and he does it again…and again. He palms my breast, making my nipple hard, and rolls it almost painfully. The sound I make is part whimper, part plea. I want more. I
need
more. I picture him hiking up my skirt, pulling down my panties, and driving into me while I wrap my legs around his waist. As soon as I have the thought, his hand is up my skirt, his fingers skating across the damp crotch of my underwear.

“Jesus,” he breathes against my open mouth. “You're so fucking wet.”

“Are you going to finish what you're starting?”

“I can't.” He slips a finger into my panties. “Not here.” He strokes into me and has to wrap his other arm around me when my knees buckle. “I could get in trouble.” His thumb rubs my clit and I bite down on his shoulder to keep from crying out. “Maybe even fired.” His fingers are fucking magic. “If I get fired, I can't help you.” I open my legs wider for him. “You want me to help you, don't you?” I nod. “I
like
helping you.” He does this thing between my legs that makes my head drop back. His mouth covers mine to catch my scream as I come.

I'm pinned to the door by his big body. He's got a hand in my underwear and a hand on my tit and he's kissing me like he can't get enough of me. I'm boneless.

When he lifts his head he smiles at me. “I
really
like helping you.”

“I really like your help.”

He fixes my skirt and straightens my blouse. “You can't say I don't finish what I start.”

“No, I can't.”

“Here.” He retrieves the earplugs I dropped on the floor and hands them to me. “You might need these.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I might start something again later.”

“I hope you do.”

He gives me a quick kiss. “Let me show you what I found.” He moves the other chair around to his desk like he did before, so I can sit next to him at his computer.

My legs are a little wobbly as I follow him across the room. He notices and gives me a self-satisfied smile. This guy is going to be trouble for me. I can't put him in a hidden pocket and take him with me if I suddenly have to run. What he seems to want from me won't fit in my day-by-day, temporary lifestyle. If I disappear, how would he handle it? With his skills, he'd probably try to find me, and that could be just as dangerous as what I'm running from—for him and for me. I'm making a mistake here, letting him in. I shouldn't have let it get this far.

“Will you promise me something?” I blurt out.

He turns to me in surprise. “What?”

“If I'm suddenly…gone…you won't try to find me.”

“Are you in danger? Did something happen?”

“No. But if it does I might not be able to say goodbye. Are you going to be okay with that?”

He sits back in his chair. His hands are loose in his lap, but the rest of his body tenses. He considers my question, his blue eyes laser-focused on my face. There's not a lot of room here for negotiation. I have to know he'll let me go if I run. Self-preservation is and has to be my top priority. I can't let what's happening between us change that. My life depends on my ability to make a move at a moment's notice. Especially being this close to where it all started.

“No.” I can see he has questions to ask, but he doesn't voice them. “But I'll deal with it.”

“And you won't try to find me?”

“No.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He doesn't like making the promise. I've put an unknown expiration date on what we have. I wouldn't like it any more than he does. He turns to his computer, his face set and determined. We find Marie. We move forward until we stop moving at all. That's something we both can do to take our minds off how temporary this thing between us is.

“Marie put up a new post late last night,” he says, closing the subject of us and drawing my attention to the computer screen. “A photo.”

It's at an awkward angle and there's not much to see except the drawn shape of a heart with a keyhole in the middle and a chain coming off the top of it with an old-fashioned key attached at the end. An extremely
familiar
image. He's making his case for her getting his tattoo. I grip the arms of the chair and close my eyes. I can hear him, his voice deep and accented and very persuasive. He would've told her that the heart symbolizes his heart and the key is her unlocking his broken heart and opening him up to love. My stomach churns for a completely different reason than last night's alcohol.

Beau is talking about the photo of the drawing. Opening my eyes, I force myself to focus on what he's saying and not get lost again in old, ugly memories. The important thing is that Marie hasn't gotten the tattoo yet. I concentrate on that and try to ignore the ticking clock Javier has us on.

“Tumblr doesn't scrub the EXIF info off of posted pictures like some other social media sites,” he says. “If she doesn't have her phone or camera settings to not store GIS information, then it will be saved within the image and we can extract it.”

“English, please.”

“We might be able to get the GPS coordinates from the picture on where it was taken, which could lead us to where Marie is. Or at least where she
was
when she took the photo.”

“Are you serious? Do it.”

In a few short keystrokes we're looking at the GPS stamp on the picture. Beau copies it, then pastes it into another site and up pops a Google map with a pin in the spot where the photo was taken. I lean closer to the screen as Beau zooms in on the pin.

“It looks like a strip shopping center.” He changes the view to street level. “She would've been in one of these shops or just outside of them when she took the photo.”

There's a convenience store, a nail salon, a sandwich shop, a tobacco store, a dry cleaner, a takeout pizza place, a Starbucks, and a frozen yogurt shop. Which one was she in?

“She might come back if she's living in the area,” Beau says. “She took the photo just after seven p.m. We could stake it out and see if she comes back. It could take days, but so far this is the
only
lead I have on your sister.”

“How much will that cost? I budgeted according to the estimate Cora gave me. I don't know how much over that I can go.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“I'm pretty sure your boss isn't going to like that answer.”

“I'll do it off the clock after work.”

“Could you get fired for that, though? I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“You've already crossed a line by keeping my secret,” I tell him. “And last night. I can't ask you to do this too.”

“You're not asking me to do it. I'm volunteering.”

“Beau,”
I warn.

“Vera,”
he mocks.

“I'm serious.”

“I did find something else. You have an older half brother. Of course, that isn't what you hired the agency to find out, so I should probably not tell you about him.”

My mouth falls open, but no words come out.
I have a half brother?
Until this moment I had no idea I had another sibling. After living so long without a family, the thought that I might have more than Marie is incredible.

“You don't play fair,” I tell him.

He waits me out as though he has all day, tapping his fingers on the desktop, pinkie to index finger, over and over in a wave. I don't think I've met anyone more stubborn than Beau Hollis.

“Fine. Tell me about my brother.”

“Are you sure? Don't want to cross any boundaries you're not comfortable with.”

“You're mad about what I said earlier. About leaving.”

“Hell, yes, I'm mad.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “But there's nothing I can do about it, is there?”

“There's nothing
I
can do about it.”

“Then don't fight me when I offer to help you. Maybe finding Marie could help change your situation.”

“It won't. Nothing will.”

“I didn't think my situation would ever change, but Cora didn't give up. She found a way I didn't even know existed.”

His belief that he could somehow change things for me touches me more than he could ever know. I've never had anyone in my corner before. He's become my knight in rusted, dented armor, offering to slay a very,
very
dangerous dragon. He has no idea what he's up against. The thought that he could get caught between Javier and me scares the shit out of me. He's been through so much. He deserves to live the rest of his life danger-free. He sure as hell doesn't deserve the threat my secrets bring.

I take his face in my hands and kiss him. “I love that after all you've been through, you still have hope.”

“I don't rely on hope. I rely on what I
know
and what I can
do.
”

“What do you know?”

“I know what it's like to have someone who believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Someone who fought for me and never gave up.”

“You want to be that someone for me?”

“I
am
that someone for you.”

She's killing me. Does she really think I'll leave her to fight alone? Has no one ever stood up for her? She looks at me like she can't believe I'm for real. I'm so motherfucking for real she has no idea. I don't know what her secret is. I may never know. But I can do my best to be someone she can confide in. I can support her and work for her and help her find her sister.

Can I save her?

I don't know.

I'm not like Cora. I don't have that kind of optimism. I sure as hell don't have anything resembling hope. What I do have is a shoulder she can lean on for as long as she needs it. I have the skills she needs to help reconnect her to her family. And I have nothing but free time to invest in seeing this through. Now if she'll only let me help her.

“Okay,” she says, sounding very small and defeated. “Be my someone, but please,
please
don't get hurt.”

I don't know what she means, and I have a feeling the mystery behind it is locked in the vault with all her other secrets.

“I won't,” I answer.

It's a meaningless promise because I have no idea what I'm up against or how I could be hurt. The words seem to calm her, so I leave them out there for her. We now have an agreement that doesn't really work for either of us, but it's the best we can do for the time being.

Taking advantage, I steal another kiss. The moment is meant to be light, but there's a heaviness around her that wasn't there before. By inserting myself into her life, I've complicated it. She's thrown mine into a tailspin. Half the time I'm not sure which way is up and which way is certain disaster. I guess we're just going to have to deal with it in our own ways.

I pull the file I started on her brother out of the top drawer of my desk and open it for her. On top is his birth certificate. He's five years older than Vera and seven years older than Marie. I move his birth certificate to the side to reveal a marriage license.

“Your mother, Trudy Marie Saint Claire, married Walter David Johnston. A year later their son, Eric Walter Johnston, was born. I didn't find any record of a divorce. I did, however, find another birth record.” I pull a third document from underneath the marriage license. “A David Walter Johnston apparently had a daughter with a woman named Claire Johnston. Her name is Gwendolyn Marie Johnston.” I watch Vera very closely. “That's you, isn't it?”

Her face goes pale and her eyes are huge on mine. She nods.

“You are Marie's sister, just as you said. Your mom used a false name on your birth record. It took me a while to chase down my hunch. I was right to trust and believe in you.”

She picks up her birth certificate and studies it as though she's never seen it before. Maybe she hasn't. Her mother wasn't exactly forthcoming with information, or honest, for that matter. I can't imagine Vera as a Gwendolyn. She'll always be Vera to me.

“Is this…Could this Walter David or David Walter be my real father?”

“It's possible. That might be why your mom mixed up your parents' names on your birth certificate. She might've tried to hide your birth from him. There's no real way to know for sure unless you ask him.”

“I can't believe this.”

“I have addresses for them both if you want them. They live in Kansas.” I hold out a sheet of paper with their contact info on it.

She pushes it away. “I can't do anything with that. I can't be Gwen ever again.”

“I'll hold on to it for you. If you change your mind, let me know.”

She shakes her head. “I won't, but thank you.” Her gaze drifts to the file. “I have a brother. And maybe a father.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Would you…Is there somewhere you can put this?” She touches a finger to the papers. “Somewhere safe, so no one else can ever find it?”

“Absolutely. Are you okay?”

She forces a brave smile. “I'm fine.”

Cora opens the door and comes in. “Oh.” She stumbles to a stop. “Hi, Vera.” She gives me a look. “No one told me you were coming in this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I take it Beau filled you in on the latest developments in your sister's case?”

I close the file and slide it into the top drawer. “We may have another lead.” I fill Cora in on what we found with the photo.

“That's good work,” she says, clearly impressed. “
Very
good work. We can talk to the employees in the stores to see if they know Marie or can tell us anything about her.”

I don't mention my idea of staking out the shopping center. If Cora knew I was going to do that, she'd want to bill Vera for our time.

“We can do that this afternoon, after my appointment,” I tell Cora.

“Thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot. The sooner we get your license current, the sooner you can stop stealing my car and buy your own.”

“She's teasing,” I tell Vera. “I don't steal her car, I
borrow
it.”

Cora waves it away. “Potayto-potahto.”

Vera stands and puts her bag over her shoulder. “I should go.”

I walk her to the door. “I'll call you later and let you know if we find out anything at the shopping center.”

“Thanks.”

“Bye, Vera,” Cora says.

Vera puts up a hand in response and goes out to the reception area. I watch her until she disappears around the corner.

Cora crosses her arms and gives me her
spill it
look. “What's going on with you and Vera?”

I avoid her gaze and sit down at my desk. “What do you mean?”

She closes the door.
Shit.
This is going to be a serious talk.

“I see the way you look at her.”

Careful to make my expression neutral, I shrug. “I can't
not
look at her.”

“Noooo.” Putting her palms on my desk, she leans into my personal space. “You know what I mean. Like you've seen her naked or you want to see her naked.”

My gaze sticks to my computer screen, but I don't see any of the words on it.

“Oh, my God. You
fucked
her, didn't you?”

I pull out my rusty big-brother voice and glare. “Don't talk like that.”

“You're not denying it.” She presses her fingers to her temples. “Holy shit, Beau. You could get fired for sleeping with a client. I vouched for you!”

“Sshh. Keep your voice down.”

“
Why?
There are a million women in San Diego and you have to fuck a
client
?

“So the rules are different for Leo than they are for me?”

“I wasn't the client.
You
were.”

“You were both employees. That's allowed?”

“Well, no, but that was different.”

I stand and face off with her. “How?”

“We can't take her money if you're screwing her. That's just wrong.”

“So don't take her money.”

“Oh, no. No, you don't. We're not going there. End it. Now. Or I'm pulling you off the case.”

I want to hit something. Preferably myself. In the face. Instead, I strike the top of the desk. “Don't you dare do that, Cora.”

“Don't make me do it.”

“You have no idea what you'd be fucking up if you do.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I can't.”

“I'm your boss. Give me a reason not to fire you.”

“She's…I can't tell you. I promised.”

“Let me get this straight.” She props her hands on her hips. “You're choosing
her
over me and your job?”

“I'm not choosing anything. You're trying to force me to make a choice I can't and won't make.”

“This isn't like you. Give me something here, Beau. Make me understand.”

“Remember how you fought for me when no one believed in me and my innocence? Against Mom and Dad. Against the system that put me in prison for life. Against
everyone
?”

She nods, her lashes fluttering like she's fighting tears. I'm hitting her soft spot. I have to be careful not to hit it too hard.

“Vera needs a Cora.
I'm
her Cora.”

“Why?”

“I can't tell you why, and I'm so sorry for that. Please. Trust me.”

She's wavering and she doesn't want to. “But do you have to sleep with her?”

“It just sort of happened. Neither one of us expected it. I don't know how to explain that part. It's too…big.”

Tipping her head to the side, she considers me for a long moment. The corners of her mouth tilt into a reluctant almost-smile. “That's actually the only part of this I think I
do
understand.”

“Good. Then maybe you can explain it to me.”

“No. I think this is one you're going to have to figure out for yourself.”

“Yeah, well. I'm not sure that's possible.”

The smile flees and she's back to frowning at me. “I'm worried about you, Beau. I probably shouldn't be, but I can't help it. I don't like these secrets. Are you sure about this girl?”

“She's the only thing I am sure of in all this.”

“Be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt.”

“I will.”

She's the second woman today to have that concern about me. I wonder if maybe I should have it too.