“You know my uncles own a construction company, so they did some of the work, but my brothers, cousins, and I did the kitchen and floors ourselves.”
“You guys have done a great job.”
“Thanks,” he tells me, and then he rolls toward me, putting an elbow to the bed and looking down at me. Watching him study me with the light through the skylight and the open door of the room, I fight the urge to squirm under his stare. “I’ve imagined this.” He tosses his hand out to encompass everything. “I’ve imagined sharing all of this with you hundreds of times. I’m glad you’re here.”
Feeling my lips part, I lift my hand and rest it softly against his cheek. “Me, too,” I confess without thinking, and he turns his head and touches his lips to my palm.
“Come on. I made lasagna,” he urges, sitting up and getting off the bed, pulling me along with him, and I feel my stomach twist. I can’t eat lasagna, and I can’t even tell him why not without exposing too much.
“I’m not really hungry anymore,” I lie, and he stops at the door to look at me, frowning.
“You’re not hungry anymore?”
“I forgot I had a big lunch today.”
“Oh.” His frown deepens.
“I’ll try to eat some, but I don’t want you to think I’m being rude if I don’t eat much,” I say, and he shakes his head.
“It’s all good. You can watch me eat and we can catch up,” he assures, and so that’s exactly what I do. I watch him eat and tell him about Chris, my parents, and even a little about Kelly, before it’s time for me to leave. And when I go, he gives me a kiss goodbye that puts his kiss hello to shame.
Chapter 4
Kim
HEARING SOMEONE KNOCKING on my door, my eyes open and I roll to the side to look at the clock. Seeing it’s not even five in the morning yet, I sit up and put my feet to the floor then hurry out of bed. I only know one person who would show up at my house at this time, and that person is Kelly, and seeing how my last conversation with her ended, I’m not really looking forward to going through that again.
I put on a long sweatshirt over the top of my nightgown and head for the living room, where the morning sun has just started to light the room. Walking toward the sliding glass door, I see it’s not Kelly. It’s two men wearing suits, and they both look like they haven’t slept in hours. I stop in place when they notice me and watch relief flash through their eyes as they hold up black leather wallets, pressing them to the glass. Seeing both of them say FBI, I hurry across the room, flip the latch, and open the door an inch.
“Kimberly Cullen?” the man who is standing closest to where I am asks, studying me.
“Yes.”
“I’m Special Agent Torres, and this is Special Agent Kace. We’re with the FBI,” he says, and my stomach fills with anxiety.
“How can I help you?”
“Can we come in?” Agent Torres asks, and I check them out. They look legit, but I just don’t know.
“We’re here about your sister,” Agent Kace explains, and my eyes move to him.
“What happened?” I question, and I watch both their eyes change in a way that makes my heart feel suddenly heavy. “What happened?” I repeat, pushing the door open to let them inside.
“Do you have someone you can call to come sit with you?” Agent Torres asks, and I shake my head as I walk across the room to stand on the opposite side, away from them.
“It would really be best if you called someone.”
“Just tell me,” I whisper, twisting my hands nervously in front of me.
“Your sister’s been murdered.” My heart stops, and my eyes close as those five words penetrate. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I open my eyes back up, not really seeing anything. “We haven’t been able to find her body at this time, but we have men out looking for her.”
Oh, God. I move to the couch to take a seat, because my legs feel like they are about to give out from under me. Dead? Kelly’s dead? How is that even possible?
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Miss Cullen.”
“How?” I finally get out through the sudden ache in my throat.
“Unfortunately, we can’t discuss that with you at this time, but know we are close to catching her killer.”
“Her killer.” I drop my eyes to my lap. Kelly isn’t just dead; she was murdered. Someone killed her. Someone took her life. “Will I know when you find the person who did this?” I ask, lifting my eyes to look at the two men who have now moved closer to where I’m sitting.
“We will make sure you are given the news as soon as we apprehend him.”
“You already have a suspect?” I ask to confirm, needing that information more than my next breath.
“Yes,” Agent Torres states, and I drop my eyes to my lap and pull in a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control.
Nodding, I lift my head then shake it. “Does… does her mom know?” I ask, and they both look at me with confused expressions. “I… I was a-adopted when I was born. I… I don’t know my birth mom.”
“We were unaware of that,” Agent Kace says, and I blink up at him in bewilderment.
“How? How did you find me then?” I don’t know my birth mother, but I know she has my number, because Kelly gave it to her along with my address when she first started coming around. She thought her mom—our mom—would want to contact me, which she never did.
“An eyewitness believed she was you,” Agent Torres explains, getting down on his haunches in front of me. “When we went back to examine who our suspect had been in contact with, we found out it was your sister Kelly.”
Pinching my thigh, I try to see if that will wake me up, but it doesn’t. This isn’t a bad dream I’m going to wake up from any second.
“Please call someone and have them come over. You shouldn’t be alone right now, Miss Cullen, and as soon as we are able to give you more information about the case, we will set up a time to meet with you.”
Nodding, because I can’t talk, I reach out to take a card Agent Kace hands me.
“Call someone,” he orders gently, and I nod again. “We’ll be in contact soon.”
Watching them leave with quiet goodbyes, I sit here hearing their words continue to ring in my ears.
“God,” I whimper, dragging my hands down my face and covering my mouth with my shaking fingers. “Oh, God.” Looking around the room, everything blurs together while tears fill my eyes, and bile builds in the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe. Squeezing my tear-filled eyes closed, wetness tracks down my cheeks and onto my chest. I get up on shaky legs and head to my room to grab my phone out of my purse where I left it last night. Pulling it out, I see it’s dead. Finding my charging cord, I fumble with it until I get it plugged in then wait for it to turn on. I have a few voice mails and a lot of texts but I ignore them, pulling up my mom’s phone number in my call log and pressing send.
“Honey,” she answers on the second ring, sounding like I just woke her up.
“Mom,” I choke out through my tears. I wish she were here. I wish she could wrap her arms around me and tell me everything will be all right like she has done since I was little.
“What’s happened? Are you okay?” she questions, sounding more alert than she did moments ago.
“No.” I fall back on my bed and squeeze my eyes closed. “Kelly. Kelly’s dead, Mom,” I get out, right before a loud, painful sob breaks loose.
“What?”
“She was murdered. The FBI was just here. Kelly was murdered.”
“Oh, God,” Mom breathes, then the phone goes quiet before I hear her talking to my dad, but I can’t make out what either of them are saying over the sound of my blood pumping through my ears.
“Baby,” Dad says, and my eyes tighten. “Your mom is booking us a flight right now.”
“Okay.”
“Be strong, honey.”
“Okay,” I agree on a whisper.
“Be there soon. We love you.”