“Well, now he’s after whoever is sending Mom those notes. My guess is he’s going to try and find out who it is that’s got such a weird fascination with her.”
“That could be half the men in the county.”
“Yeah, I know.” Including the sheriff himself, Cassie thought. Sheriff Carter, now there was an interesting guy. Quiet. Smart. Good-looking…the same with the new bodyguard, even though he was really old—in his thirties or something. She liked his short blond hair, intense blue eyes, and straight nose that matched perfect teeth. He was fit, muscular, and, even though he didn’t smile a lot, when he did, he looked like a poster boy for one of those “Have-it-all-with-the-Marines” type of ads on TV. On top of it all, he was whip-smart. She recognized that straight up. It was true that Jake Turnquist made life a prison, but Cassie could think of worse jailors. She cracked the window, letting in a little cold air so that the smoke was sucked out of the cab as Josh, one eye on the road, slipped in a CD and pumped the bass up to the max. His sub-woofer was pounding, his fingers tapping out rhythm on the wheel, his head bobbing to the loud music.
“So is your mom still pissed at me?”
“Majorly pissed.”
His face knotted up. “Shit.”
“You care?”
“Sure. If she’s mad at me, it’ll be tough to get to see you.” He slid her a lecherous smile that, she supposed, was meant to be sexy.
Instead it irritated her. Sometimes she wondered what she saw in Josh. Ever since the fiasco up at Catwalk Point, she’d thought about breaking up with him. And then you’d be alone. So what? Being alone might be better than being embarrassed by Josh, who sometimes seemed to act fourteen rather than his age. Maybe that was why she found the bodyguard so attractive. He was a grown-up. “You know, you could come over. Hang out. When Mom’s there. We could study or watch TV.”
“With the bodyguard dude, too? Sounds like a blast,” he mocked, and shook out a cigarette from his pack on the dash. With a flick of his lighter, he lit up, then continued driving and rocking-out. Cassie flicked the butt of her cigarette out the window. Being with Josh was making her nervous. He stopped at a minimart, bought them each a soda, and then cruised through the frozen streets, waving at friends who passed, showing off in his tricked-out truck, doing not much of anything.
Cassie was bored out of her mind.
“If you came over, at least you could see my mom,” she said, and it was her turn to lift an eyebrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you think it means.”
“Oh, geez, Cass, not that again. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t have a hard-on for your mom.”
“Nice to know,” she muttered under her breath.
“My folks aren’t home.” He offered her a kinder smile. “We could go there and have the place to ourselves.”
Like sex would fix everything. Suddenly she felt tired. She glanced at her watch. “I really can’t. Jake’s picking me up right after the last bell.”
“Jake?” he repeated.
“The bodyguard.”
“I thought he was guarding your mom.”
“And me and my sister. He and Mom have this whole program worked out where he drives us around during the day and watches the place at night. I’d better be at the school when he shows up.” She took a long sip of her drink and watched shadows play across Josh’s face, as if he was just beginning to understand that she had other things to do—that, perhaps, she had other things she wanted to do other than just hang out with him.
“Come on, Cass—”
“Really, Josh. I can’t mess up anymore. Mom was really, really ticked off about the last time I snuck out up to the mountain and the cops came.”
“Shit.” He didn’t argue any further, just put on his best I’m-really-pissed face, and drove recklessly back to the school. He dropped her off and didn’t bother kissing her, just peeled out of the lot, music blaring, foul mood following after him like the smell of burnt rubber.
Oh, grow up! she thought, and wondered about her change in attitude. It’s as if ever since being caught at the crime scene, she’d seen Josh with new eyes. He claimed to love her, but she still didn’t believe him. He was just a good-time, damn-the-consequences country boy who would rather be racing cars or hunting, or watching near-porn movies and drinking beer, than anything in the world. Josh Sykes was going nowhere fast in a cherried-out, old pickup with a cranked-up cab and extra-wide tires with mag wheels.
Big whoop.
Cassie had better things to do.
Lots better.
Carter skimmed BJ’s lists for the twentieth time. Throughout the day, whenever he was in the office, between his other duties, he’d looked over the names of the people he’d known most of his life, but the one person on the report that kept running through his head was Scott Dalinsky. Rinda’s kid. An oddball, but certainly harmless. Right? Or was he coloring his judgment because he was Scott’s godfather? What about Harrison Brennan? The neighbor who seemed all-too-possessive of Jenna.