What She Forgot (What She 2)

“Why did you let him go?” I asked as we sat and ate, keeping the conversation light.

She shrugged. “He was just a kid. He made a bad choice. It’s one he won’t

make again.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I told him that if he ever tried something like that again, I’d come to his house, kill everyone he loves, and he’ll regret it for the rest of his life because it will be his fault.”

I sat, stunned, unsure of how to reply. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Um…”

She laughed. “I’m kidding. I told him that this was his one and only get out of jail free card, and that he should use it wisely.”

The tension in me eased a little. “That’s all you said?”

“Yes, why?” She looked at me, her gaze questioning.

“Just checking.”

“So, Friday night…”

“Be ready.”

She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling.

I was taking Shelly on a date. And it wasn’t for Megan’s benefit. It was for mine. I wanted to give her the first date experience she’d never had. It was selfish and reckless, and I had no idea why I wanted to give her such an experience. But I did. I wanted it very badly.

Chapter 22

Shelly

Clark bellowed at me from his office. “Shelly!”

I closed the tab I had open and walked toward his office. “You bellowed?” I said drolly as I hitched a hip in the corner of the open doorway.

He didn’t look up from the papers he studied on his desk.

“Did you need me for something?” I prompted after a moment.

He finally looked up. “I need your brain.”

“Well, there’s one I’ve never heard,” I said as I walked toward his desk. I took the chair across from him. “What do you have?”

He slid two stacks of papers toward me. “This stack is people who were killed.” He tapped his finger against the stack on the left. “And this stack is people who were caught. I need to know the difference.”

“Caught?” I asked. But my brain was already buzzing.

“Someone is being a vigilante, dispensing justice when there was none. I took the case files to Mason, and he says it has to be more than one person who is trying to dispense justice. I’m still not sure.” I could tell he was watching my face closely. “I was hoping you might take a look.”

My heart leaped a little in my chest as I pulled the stacks toward me. I started to rifle through them, then separate them into piles. I made three piles. I slid the smallest stack toward him. “You told me not to lie to you.”

His brow furrowed. “I did.” He nodded, but I could tell that he didn’t know where I was going to go with this.

I shoved the small stack one inch further toward him. “This stack was me.” Heat crept up my cheeks, but I wasn’t sure why. He stared at me. Hard. So hard that I immediately became uncomfortable. I gathered my hair up in my hands and lifted it off my neck.

Clark reached into his desk drawer, retrieved a pencil, and handed it to me. I rolled my hair into a ball and secured it with the pencil. Then I realized what he’d done. He’d anticipated my need for something to hold my hair. And I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“You?” he asked.