Derek DeWinter had been her best friend in junior high, the closest thing she’d had to a boyfriend in high school and quite possibly the only person in her life who knew her secret and had never treated her like a freak.
When she was fifteen, his family had moved from Bonsall to Scripps Ranch to be closer to Children’s Hospital. His little sister Trina had a rare kidney disorder, and the disease had brought the family both heartache and financial ruin.
Sidney and Derek wrote to each other sporadically, but lost touch, as teenagers were wont to do. In all this time, she’d never forgotten him, or thrown away his letters.
He hugged her so tight she laughed at his enthusiasm. Then he pulled back to look at her, as if he weren’t quite sure she was real. “My God. You’re beautiful.”
She couldn’t help but flush from pleasure at his words, although he’d always been effusive, and a little nearsighted. “You’re not so bad yourself. What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” he said, jerking his shoulder toward the house. “We moved back.”
“Your mom and dad?”
A shadow darkened his eyes. “No. Just me and Trina.”
The smile fell off her face. It was terrible of her, but she never thought the sick girl would survive this long. “How is she?”
“She has her good days and bad,” he hedged. “Want to see her?”
“Of course,” she said immediately.
“What’s wrong with your truck?”
“I think I ran out of gas.” She toed at the dirt in front of her, trying to look sheepish.
“Come on in. I’ve got a gas can in the garage.”
She glanced at the tree-shrouded hill in the distance, remembering her promise to Marc. Following Derek, she made an okay sign behind her back, hoping he wouldn’t freak out.
Trina DeWinter remembered her, although they hadn’t seen each other in more than ten years, and she was just a little girl when Sidney and Derek had been friends. At twenty-two she should have been a vibrant, full-grown woman. Instead she was painfully thin, the illness keeping her as small and undeveloped as a child.
For one so sick, she was in great spirits. She had a colorful silk scarf over her head, covering her baby-fine hair, and her soft speech was punctuated by light laughter. The conversation invariably turned to the foibles of youth, and some of the scrapes Sidney and Derek had gotten themselves into as wild hooligans.
“Remember the well?” Trina asked suddenly. “Who fell in there?”
“Lisa Pettigrew,” Sidney said with a smile. “Derek had a major crush on her.”
“No, I didn’t,” he protested. “I had a major crush on you.”
“Well, Lisa chased after you, I remember that. And you didn’t run very fast to get away. Neither did Kurtis,” she added wryly, thinking of the boy who’d taunted her throughout grade school.
“Whatever happened to him?”
“He’s still around,” Derek said, his eyes hard. “We’re neighbors, in fact. He bought old man Frasier’s property.
Sidney hugged her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill. Kurtis Stalb had lured Lisa down into the well and then abandoned her there. Afraid of the repercussions, he didn’t tell anyone where she was. If Sidney hadn’t bumped into him inadvertently and discovered his shocking secret, Lisa might never have been found.
“Hopefully he grew up to be a decent person,” she said. She cut him some slack because twelve-year-old boys couldn’t be held accountable for, or even expected to understand, the consequences of their actions.
“Are you kidding?” Derek snorted. “People like that don’t change. He was born bad.”
Sidney felt a rush of sympathy for Derek, recalling how often he and his sister had been the subjects of Kurtis’s ridicule. With her long, black hair and freaky ways, Sidney had also been one of the bully’s favorite targets.
After a few more minutes, Trina’s eyelids began to droop. Hefting her easily, Derek carried her off to bed, calling her a sleepy-head with warm affection.
“Where are your parents?” Sidney asked when he returned.
“Dead,” he answered shortly. “There was a pile-up on the 15. Mom was killed instantly. Dad hung on just until he heard.”
She placed a hand over her heart. “Oh God, Derek. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“You must be…” She was about to say buried in debt then rethought her words. “How are you managing? Trina’s medical care alone-”
“We’re getting by,” he interrupted.
“How?”
“You don’t want to know.”
She bit down on her lower lip, trying not to show her pity. It was the last thing he needed. He found his gas can and dumped it into the tank, smiling with pleasure when her truck started without a hitch. She promised to keep in touch, and he claimed the same, neither of them believing it, or each other.
Whatever they’d had, once upon a time, was a childhood dream, a sweet, purely innocent fantasy, lost in the harsh miasma of reality.
Chapter 13
Marc had been going out of his mind since Sidney disappeared. One moment he was admiring her gorgeous legs as she bent over the engine, the next he was watching some hippie drug dealer put his dirty hands all over her.
He’d been crouched in an orange grove, seething, for almost an hour.
Finally she came out and said goodbye, driving away as the last vestiges of daylight slipped into darkness. Marc could see the younger man’s forlorn, almost hangdog expression in the fading tail-lights.
It was only then that Marc lowered his weapon.
Straightening, he holstered his gun and waited for Sidney to round the corner, every nerve in his body as taut as a wire. She was safe. Why wasn’t he relieved?
She pulled up alongside him, killing the engine and stepping out when he made no move to get in. “I gave you one simple instruction,” he said, enunciating each word carefully.
“He’s harmless. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
A hot, prickly sensation crept up the back of his neck. “I asked you not to go in the house,” he reiterated.
“His sister is extremely sick,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He invited me in to see her.”
The reasonable excuse did nothing to assuage his anger. It still boiled inside, straining for release. “Did you give him your phone number?”
Her demeanor changed from defensive to coy. “If I did, would you be jealous?”
“No,” he lied, “I’d be furious. He’s a key component in a murder case. Someone he’s connected to is mutilating women. Do you want to become one of them?”
“I didn’t give him my number, he gave me his, and I accepted it for old times’ sake. We were friends once. Nothing more.”
He laughed harshly. “You are so naive. He hugged you close to feel your tits against his chest, and his eyes were glued to your ass every time you turned around.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to dress sexy,” she pointed out.
“To bend over under the hood. To go without a bra.” Each detail brought a sensual image to mind, and he had to force himself to keep his focus on her face. “If having other men look at me disturbs you, maybe you shouldn’t use me as bait.”
“That’s not it,” he said, shoving his fingers through his hair. “I had no idea what you were doing in there. I was worried about you.”
She examined his face then stroked her eyes down his body. “Careful, Marc,” she said in a low voice, leaning forward and putting her hand in the middle of his chest. “You’re getting dangerously close to revealing your-” she touched her lips to his ear “-feelings.”
