Wicked Game. Lisa Jackson
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“Hey.” Hudson’s voice washed over her and her muscles tightened reflexively as she waited for him to move into her line of vision.
“About time, Walker,” The Third said, gazing Hudson’s way, his eyes assessing him carefully.
Becca attempted to ease her stiff shoulders, afraid she looked as tense as she felt.
“Traffic snarl on Sunset,” he answered.
“You’re coming from the west,” Jarrett said as Hudson walked around the table into Becca’s view.
Faded jeans. Tan suede shirt. Thick, dark hair that brushed his collar. I-don’t-really-give-a-damn attitude still intact.
“Shouldn’t be any traffic that way.” Jarrett eyed him carefully.
“You think I’m lying?”
Jarrett backed off with a shrug. “Just think you’re late.”
“Okay, now that the bull rams have locked horns, can we get over this?” Renee asked.
“After we say hello,” Tamara said. She turned to Hudson and added, “Hudson Walker. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Oh, there have been some changes, all right.” He took a chair next to Zeke, directly across from Becca, and when his gaze touched hers, Becca remembered all too vividly how those blue, blue eyes could dilate in the dark. There was just something earthy and male about him that couldn’t be missed. Of course, as she’d guessed, he looked even better than she remembered, and she kicked herself for noticing, for the sudden rise in her pulse.
“Hey, Becca.”
“Hi.” She smiled a greeting, hoping she’d hidden her true feelings as he greeted everyone else. Pretending to be unaffected, which was damned hard. He seemed to have grown an inch or two, which was probably all her perception. But along with a cynical, “just dare me” smile, he still had that tall, rangy cowboy style going for him. And it was sexy as hell.
Great.
She’d hoped to be immune to him.
But this more mature, more relaxed, more confident Hudson was even more intriguing than he had been two decades before, as sexy a man as she’d ever want to meet. Whereas Zeke’s good looks and appeal had diminished, Hudson’s had increased.
Renee said, “The thing is, I’m doing a story on the discovery of the remains. A piece about high school and what it’s like when one of your friends disappears and how it can affect you. We’ve all dealt with the same questions for twenty years. Where’s Jessie? What happened to her? Did she leave on her own, or was she taken from us? Now maybe we can find some answers.”
Evangeline stared at her in horror. “You’re not serious!”
Jarrett breathed noisily through his nose. “What a bunch of bullshit. Until you know who’s been rotting in the maze at St. Elizabeth’s, you’re writing fiction. I don’t think the Valley Star is big on conjecture.”
“I can theorize, put my spin on it,” Renee said. “I’ve already talked to the kids who found the bones. Great story. Older brother and friends were trying to scare the littler kids by telling ghost stories in the maze, and then one of the kids sees this bony hand reaching upward.”
“Oh, for the love of God.” Evangeline pressed her lips together. “You’re trying to profit from this?”
Renee regarded her coldly. “I want a purge. I want this behind us all. My way is to write about it. I’ve kept in contact with Jessie’s parents all these years because I was a good friend of Jessie’s,” she said directly to Evangeline, “and I think she died in the maze at St. Lizzie’s and I want to tell that story. For Jessie, and for us all.”
Scott said, stunned, “To your paper?”
“Don’t count me in!” The Third stated, glaring. “Jessie ran away, okay? I don’t believe those bones are hers. And I’ve had more than enough wrangling with the police about it. Those bastards wouldn’t leave us alone.”
“McNally wouldn’t leave us alone,” Mitch corrected.
“Who gives a shit? I’m not doing any of it again.” He reached for his glass, then realized it was empty and let it sit on the table.
“The police will figure it out,” Renee went on. “Those are somebody’s bones, and I’m guessing they’re Jessie’s. It’s all over the news. If I don’t write this piece, somebody else will.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re our savior.” Jarrett was sardonic. “You’re writing the damn thing to make a few bucks.” He waved away her arguments. “Gain some attention. That’s what this is all about, and it’s crap.”
“I’d like to know if the body the cops found is really Jessie.” Hudson met Jarrett’s eyes. “And if so, then I’d like to know what happened to her.”
Renee bit back a hot retort and seemed to relax a bit when Hudson came to her aid. “I’ve been thinking about Jessie a lot lately. Remembering what she said. Doing some research.”
“What kind of research?” Becca asked. The vision she’d had of Jessie on the cliff felt very close. It was all too much of a coincidence, and she was starting to feel claustrophobic.
“The Brentwoods never left the area after Jessie disappeared. They wanted to be where she could find them when she returned, but now they think the bones are hers, too. I told them what I wanted to do and we talked about Jessie at length. I think they want closure, too.” Renee looked thoughtfully at Evangeline. “They remember you and Jessie being tight.”
“Wow. Everybody’s telling me how it was. Funny, I don’t remember it that way.” Evangeline pulled her gaze from Renee’s and looked around the room, obviously trying to distance herself from the missing girl. “Can I get a glass of wine or something?”
Scott nodded, appearing irritated as he glanced at the door to the kitchen. “Glenn should be back any minute.”
Renee wasn’t sidetracked. “Before she disappeared…Jessie was on a search herself. Kind of obsessed about it. Kind of looking into who she was. Trying to figure out what made her tick.”
Was that right? Becca had never heard this before.
“Hudson made her tick,” The Third said with a dirty chuckle. Jarrett laughed and Scott grinned.
Renee, on her own track, went on doggedly, “She lived in a bunch of different places before ending up here. She was adopted by the Brentwoods and they moved around a lot.”
“Chasing after her, probably,” Mitch snorted.
“But she always returned until she attended St. Elizabeth’s. She’s missing for a reason. If those are her bones, something happened to her.”
Scott’s expression darkened. “‘Something?’ You mean, like murder? That’s where you’re going with this, aren’t you? Just like McNally. He acted like we were all in on some kind of conspiracy.” Scott half laughed, almost nervously. “What an idiot. He had a hard-on for Jessie and he never even met her.”
“He probably killed her.” Evangeline was serious. “The cop that gets all obsessed about a girl. It happens. You hear about it. Read about it. See it in the movies, like, all the time!”
“Oh, sure.” Jarrett regarded her disparagingly.
“I thought you didn’t believe she was dead,” Scott pointed out.
“McNally didn’t know about Jessie until after she disappeared,” Hudson reminded Vangie.
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe he did and we just don’t know it,” she sniffed.
“Stick