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"You already know how old I am," she protested.
"Twenty-four. June eighth, right?"
She swallowed her surprise, secretly impressed. But then again, he was a detective. It was his job to remember details.
He leaned forward and lifted his half empty gla.s.s to his lips. Kate watched the play of muscle and sinew in his neck as he swallowed. G.o.d, she really had to stop ogling him like he was a jumbo-sized tub of her favorite caramel crunch ice cream.
Returning his gla.s.s to the table, Riley grinned. "Okay, I'll give it up. I had a birthday the month before last. June ninth. I'm thirty."
Her eyes widened and her lips followed suit. "Really? Wow, that's like-um-wow!"
"I hope it's a 'wow, our birthdays are so close' and not a-'you're thirty, that's seriously old,' wow."
A chuckle fell out of Kate's mouth. She couldn't help it. He was so G.o.dd.a.m.ned gorgeous. She couldn't remember feeling so relaxed and comfortable in the presence of a man. Ever. "You were right the first time," she hastened to a.s.sure him. "Besides, thirty's not that old."
His answering smile curled her toes. Her hands clenched against the jolt of heat that seared low in her belly.
"I'm glad you think so." His voice glided over her like melted marshmallow. She dropped her gaze to her bowl and busied her fingers with the spoon, suddenly fl.u.s.tered. Filling her mouth with a piece of meat, she chewed the tender morsel until it had almost disintegrated.
His gaze remained warm on her skin. He waited in silence, as if he could see straight through her. The thought made her even more nervous. Another spoonful followed the first and then another. A wry grin tugged at his lips.
"Boy, you sure weren't kidding when you said you were hungry."
Kate eyed the nearly empty bowl and flushed. She kept her gaze fixed on the checked tablecloth and finished what remained of her stew with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Would you like some more?"
She choked, heat scorching her cheeks at the amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes.
"No, thank you," she managed. "That was lovely and more than enough."
"You're sure? I wouldn't like to see you go hungry."
She shook her head. "No. Thanks. It was great. Just what I needed."
Riley leaned further back. "Well, I must say, it's nice to find a woman with a healthy appet.i.te, although I'll be d.a.m.ned if I know where you put it."
His gaze raked over her, trailing heat in its path. The warmth slid over her and again, settled low in her belly. She squirmed on the hard bench seat and crossed her legs tighter.
A smile, soft and gently teasing, coupled with a knowing gaze, warm and full of promise, beckoned her closer. His hand reached across the table and picked up hers, encompa.s.sing it in his warmth. Her heart pounded. She tried to drag her gaze away from his but found she couldn't.
"I hardly know you and there are things you haven't told me. But I like you, Kate. I like you a lot."
The admission was delivered in a tone as gentle as the look in his eyes. Still, panic threatened to overwhelm her yearning to get to know him better. What she wouldn't give to put the horror of her past aside and give in to the feelings of safety and security this wonderful man projected. If only it were that easy.
Slowly, carefully, she disentangled her fingers from his and withdrew her hand. He stared at her, searching for answers. She looked away.
He sighed, a mere whisper of sound, then picked up his gla.s.s and drained it. Setting it back down, his gaze captured hers again. Disappointment shadowed his eyes.
"I wish you would trust me."
Her thoughts whirled. She wanted to trust him-she did. She'd give anything to be able to unload her troubles onto someone else's shoulders, particularly a pair of shoulders as broad and as strong as his.
She shook her head. "It's not a matter of trust."
"Then what is it?"
Kate closed her eyes. This wasn't the time or the place, no matter how much she wished otherwise. Finding her mother had to remain her one and only priority.
"I wanted to talk to you about Darryl. I think I may have something for you." She played with her napkin, nervously.
Riley's expression became shuttered. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "You left a message for me at the station."
She nodded and drew in a lungful of oxygen. "I went to see him today."
Surprise flooded his features. "At his house?"
Kate bit her lip and forced the ugly memories aside. "Yes. I went to ask him for my mother's laptop."
She challenged him with her eyes, daring him to object. "After you mentioned seeing it the other night, I had to get my hands on it. From what my mother said, Darryl never cared much for computers. It's possible she kept files on her computer about the two of them-you know, like a diary. Given his total lack of interest, she would have been confident Darryl wouldn't stumble across them."
Riley's gaze narrowed. "Did you find anything?"
"I haven't been brave enough to take a look, yet. I only collected it this afternoon. Then I called you."
Riley's lips compressed. "You're scared about what you might find."
Kate looked down at the table, fighting the familiar feeling of dread. "Not scared. Terrified."
Riley reached over and squeezed her hand. "We could go back and have a look now, if you're up to it."
Her gaze found his and she was comforted by the strength and understanding reflected there.
"Really? You'd do that?"
He nodded.
"Thank you. I'd really appreciate it."
Riley signaled for the bill and Kate finished the rest of her wine. He signed the credit card slip and then glanced over at her. "You ready?"
Nodding, she collected her handbag, drew in a deep breath and followed him out of The Bullet and into the cold, quiet night.
CHAPTER 17.
Riley watched as Kate switched on the laptop with fingers that were far from steady. The motel room was comfortably warm, the central heating blitzing its battle with the icy air outside. He propped his hip against the counter, close to where she sat, and watched her fingers as they fluttered over the keyboard in the room's muted, golden light.
"So, how was Darryl? I take it he handed the laptop over without a fight?"
She glanced up at him. Shadows darkened her eyes. She touched her hair with a grimace. "Not exactly, but I got it anyway."
A desktop image came into view and Riley's gut instantly tightened. The wallpaper was a black and white photograph of a smiling Kate in a light-colored bikini, posing at the side of a swimming pool. Other children dressed in bathing costumes could be seen in the background. Kate looked about thirteen or fourteen, but even at that young age, her body revealed a promise of the womanly curves to come.
Kate's hands stilled. "That was taken during the summer before my fourteenth birthday." Her voice was soft and detached. "About six months before I left."
"Your mom took the photo?"
"Yes. She loved taking photos. It was one of the things she could do from her wheelchair."
Riley thought back to his conversation with Bill Cannington. "Did she get out much?"
Kate shook her head. "Not really. Not as much as she wanted to. Watervale didn't have a disabled taxi back when I was a kid. She was dependent upon Darryl to take her places and he always seemed too busy."
"I guess as the LAC, he had his hands full most of the time."
Anger flashed in Kate's eyes and Riley could have kicked himself for his lack of sensitivity.
"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "This is Watervale. The biggest thing to happen when I lived here was when old Mr Warwick wandered out of the nursing home in his pajamas and got struck by a motorbike."
"Was he hurt?"
"Only a few grazes and a dent to his pride, but it was the talk of the town for weeks."
Riley tried on a smile. "I can imagine."
Her face didn't soften. "Don't make excuses for Darryl. He's a selfish son of a b.i.t.c.h. Always was and always will be. And that's the least of his sins."
It was a throw-away line, muttered under her breath, but it snagged his attention. Before he had time to ponder what she meant, she turned back to the screen and began typing pa.s.swords.
Riley frowned. It seemed odd that Rosemary had protected her computer in that way, given that Darryl apparently didn't even know how to switch it on. It took Kate three attempts.
"What was it?" he asked, curious.
"My birth date. I tried hers and then Darryl's. Mine was lucky third." She tapped away at the keyboard and moved the mouse, opening windows and closing them. He watched as she opened her mother's email account and then frowned.
"What is it?" he asked.
"There's nothing here. Not a single message, new or old. Not even the ones I sent her when she stopped contacting me. At the very least, they should be here." Her lips tightened. She threw him a look. "Unless I was wrong."
"About what?"
"About Darryl. Perhaps he isn't as technophobic as he makes out. Maybe he said it to alleviate Mom's concerns he might access her files. I distinctly remember her saying Darryl couldn't stand computers."
She turned to face him, anger suffusing her cheeks. "What if it was just another one of his lies?"
Riley shrugged. "Who knows? Why don't you check the Deleted box? Some people don't realize an email deleted from the Inbox isn't gone forever. Even if Darryl had the capability to access your mother's emails, he may not have known about the deleted items or if he deleted them, he might not have emptied the Delete box afterwards."
"You're right," Kate murmured.
"If there are emails in the Deleted box dated after July tenth, we'll know someone else has accessed them," he added. "Given that the laptop has apparently remained in Darryl's custody, it won't be too hard to work out who it was."
"Why July tenth?"
"That's the day the cruise your mother had been booked on departed Sydney and, according to Darryl, the day he drove her there."
Kate's shoulders slumped. She turned back to the screen. Riley wished he could offer her better news.
"How many emails did you send her?"
"We used to email each other at least once a day. When I hadn't heard from her for a few days, I started emailing her asking her to contact me. I emailed her every day until the day I flew back from London."
Kate scrolled down to the Deleted items icon and gasped. There were more than two hundred and sixty-five messages. The most recent one had been sent only yesterday. All of them had been opened.
"Darryl went through them before he deleted them."
Riley nodded in agreement. "It looks that way."
Kate went through the emails that had been received after July tenth. Most were spam from various clothing stores, eBay reminders and a couple of online photography courses. But one name kept recurring: Daisyblu.
Riley moved closer, pointing to the most recent email. "Any idea who Daisyblu is?"
Kate shook her head and opened the email. Riley read silently over her shoulder. His gut clenched.
Rosie, where are you? We were supposed to meet nearly six weeks ago. I understand that you've changed your mind. That's okay. But please don't shut me out. Not after everything we've been through. I'm your friend. Let me help. Please.
Riley read it again. The timing fit pretty closely with what he already knew.
Closing the email, Kate scrolled through some of the other entries. There were nearly twenty-five others from Daisyblu that had been sent after July tenth. Most of them had been sent within a day or so of each other. The last two were a week apart. All of them enquired about Rosemary's change of plans.
The tone of the earlier emails suggested mild bafflement, but gradually changed to increasing concern. Daisyblu's final email was full of hurt and bewilderment.
"Let's see if there are any earlier than the tenth. It sounds like Daisyblu had an idea about what was going on," Riley said.
Kate scrolled down the list of old emails. Nearly two months earlier, in May, there was another email from Daisyblu.
Thank you for opening up to me today. I'm so glad you did. Have you thought about leaving him? I'm here for you, if you need help. Let me help you. Please.
Kate looked up at him, her face grim. "My mother was planning to disappear-or at the very least, considering it."
Riley pursed his lips and nodded his agreement. "More than a month before she disappeared. Maybe it took her awhile to come around to it? And then, she would have needed to put a plan together. For some reason, she changed it."
Kate eyed him steadily. "Or someone changed it for her."