Page 55 of Missing Justice
But she could see the hurt in his eyes. He wasn’t just saying that. He believed it.
“I’m working with you because you’re a damn good investigator.” She stepped toward him and reached out to grab his shirt lapels, but he backed up. “Come on, Matt. You know I…”
Oh, boy. She was in a pickle now. If she admitted how she felt about him—howdidshe feel? That alone was scary—their relationship would spin off into something completely different. A deeper relationship.
Commitment.
She’d have to tell him aboutthatnight. About Isabel. Because that’s what people did in relationships, real ones at least. They talked about their pasts, their families.
Was that why she never got close to anyone? Had she blamed her job all these years for being the culprit, when in reality, it was just an excuse to keep from having to explain what happened that night?
Damn straight she had.
Did it matter? If she didn’t admit to Matt that she cared about him too—a fucking lot—he’d continue thinking she was a cold-hearted bitch who’d used him for hisresources.
Taylor bit the inside of her bottom lip. Matt continued to stare at her, waiting.
Shit.
“It was my fault.” The words bubbled out. “That night… Isabel was kidnapped because I left her.”
They were such simple words. Such terrifying words. Tears sprung to her eyes and she dashed them away.
“That’s the child in you talking,” he said softly. “You know, as an adult, that it wasn’t your fault. No matter what you did or didn’t do that night, you were only a kid. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent what happened.”
Completely true, but so goddamn false. “I left her, Matt. I left her alone.”
She paced to the far end of the room where photographs of Matt and his siblings hung. In one picture, he couldn’t have been more than six or seven, but she knew it was him from that grin. From those crystal blue eyes.
Even back then, he’d had the Mad Dog charm.
She touched the frame, staring at six-year-old Matt. “All I wanted for my ninth birthday was a tent. Not a kid’s tent with Barbie or Tinkerbell on it. I wanted a grown-up camping one so I could sleep outside and pretend I was a great explorer. I had a little telescope to look at the stars and everything.”
She felt Matt come up behind her. He didn’t touch her, just stood looking over her shoulder at the same photograph.
Taking a deep breath, she went on. “I begged Isabel for weeks to stay outside with me. Our dad offered to but I knew he hated the idea. He and mom weren’t campers, not even backyard stuff. Isabel was seven and scared of the dark, so I teased her relentlessly about being a baby and tried bribing her with all kinds of things. She loved this one stuffed animal I had, a rabbit, so I told her she could have it if she slept just one night out in the tent with me. She wanted it pretty bad.”
The memory of Isabel’s face lighting up when Taylor had handed her that old, floppy rabbit surfaced, making Taylor smile. “She was fine until the sun went down, then she wanted to go back inside. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me stay out there alone and I was furious that she was going to blow that perfect night for me. I told her to give the rabbit back and that I was never going to speak to her again. I made other threats too. Like she couldn’t come in my room during storms and stuff when she was scared anymore. So she gave in.”
The old anxiety rose in her throat, cutting off her air. Tears leaked down the sides of her face.
Matt turned her around, wiping at her tears, his brows furrowed. “That’s normal sibling stuff, Taylor. I did far worse with my brothers and sister when I was that age.”
Taylor couldn’t meet his eyes. A part of her wanted to fall into his arms and accept his support. The other part—the one she’d used for years to guard against breaking down—needed distance.
Run.
She stayed rooted in place, not doing either but clamping down on the waterworks. Her nose was already running, and her mascara was probably all over her face by now. In a minute, she’d have to make a mad dash for the bathroom or use Matt’s shirt as a tissue.
“Once she finally fell asleep, I had to pee, so I ran back in the house. While I was in there, I stole some cookies from the pantry, thinking I’d put them under her pillow as an apology because I was feeling guilty. When I got back out to the tent, she was gone. That fast.”
Matt pulled her into his arms, his embrace reassuring as he rubbed a hand up and down her spine. “Did the police have any leads?”
She put her face in the crook of his neck, knowing she was ruining his shirt with mascara and probably a little snot, but not caring. “I thought at first she’d gotten up and followed me inside, so I went back in to check. When I couldn’t find her, I looked out her bedroom window and saw a silver pickup driving away from our side yard. It was an old Ford, beat up and listing to one side. I thought I saw a blond head through the passenger window. I didn’t get the plate number on the truck. I’m not even sure it had one. I underwent hypnosis when I got older, trying to recall anything about it that would help the police find her, but they never did. They found the rabbit, though. She’d dropped it on the sidewalk right outside our property near the hedge.”
“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispered. “You’re lucky the bastard didn’t hurt or kidnap you too.”
“I’ve gone over the old case files a dozen times and investigated every sexual predator and criminal who lived within a mile radius of us during that time. I can’t find him, but I know he’s still out there.” The one thing she never said out loud formed on her lips. “Isabel might still be alive. Even if she…”
