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In the grand scheme of things, getting her car back was the least of her concerns. She’d give it and everything else up if she could get Darcy back. “I’ll file a report in the morning. Right now…I just want to go home.”
Fortunately he decided not to add any further comment on the subject and pulled back out onto the street.
“You never told me, where’d you get this little beauty?” she asked and reached out to pat the car’s dash.
“I’m just borrowing it.”
“Duh. You said that. From who?”
He glanced to his left and then back to the road before he answered. “My sister. Who’s affectionately named it Bonnie. So no hating on the car.”
He had a sister? Her stomach started to twist. “Um, do I know her?” Please say no, please say no…
“You do.”
Of course she did. And although she had no clue who Travis’s sister might be, she had little doubt that his sister knew her. And she doubted that was a good thing. She was almost afraid to ask. “High school?”
“How’d you guess?” He glanced over at her. “But if you’re afraid she was a victim of your terrorism in high school, you’ll be relieved to find out she wasn’t. She went to West High.”
“But you just said high schoo—”
“She’s a teacher at St. Andrew. Claire? Claire Brennan. She’s in the mathematics department.”
A vague memory of a dark-haired beauty came to mind. If she wasn’t mistaken, usually hanging around with Saint Allie, the two thick as thieves. That couldn’t be good. “How is it that she went to West but you attended St. Andrew?”
“My mom and aunt were alums. Knew the principal. That and my grades and test scores qualified me for some tuition assistance, which was the reason I helped out in the computer lab. Part of the deal.”
“I didn’t realize that academic scholarships or assistance, whatever you call it, was even available.”
“You wouldn’t, would you?” he said in such a way that she was immediately filled with mortification.
She started to apologize and stopped. She was being ridiculous. Why should she apologize for having had money? And why did she care so much what Travis thought of her? This last thought was the most troubling. Changing topics seemed best. “So does your family still live here, then?”
“You could say that.”
Wow, he just really didn’t want to give her anything, did he? She tried again. “Do you visit them often?”
Another long stretch of silence followed. He’d apparently decided not to even offer her a response. Her frustration reached its limit.
She was just trying to be nice.
“I get it. I was a grade-A class bitch back in high school. I treated you horribly and so many others I can’t even remember. I get that. And you know what? I’m truly sorry. There’s a long list of things I regret, so take a number. But I’m really trying here. Why is it okay for you to know all the embarrassing personal details of my life and I can’t even ask you something as simple as how your family is?” When he remained silent, she smacked the knob on the old radio and it came to life. More eighties. “Fine.”
After a long moment, he reached out and flipped the radio back off. “I haven’t been back to Salt Lake in over ten years. Only saw Claire once in all that time, when she came to visit me in California a couple years ago. After my mom died, it was just too hard. Too many reminders.”
“Reminders of what?” she asked, her voice softer.
He shrugged again. “Just reminders. Of where I failed.”
That was not what she’d expected, and she immediately felt chastened. So maybe she wasn’t the only one with a few regrets. She didn’t know what regrets he might have but decided not to push her luck further. “What time do we meet that analyst?”
“Ten. But I want time to look through Darcy’s room before then, so I’ll be at your place early.”
She glanced at the clock on the dash. Nearly three in the morning. “Did you really check into a hotel?”
“That was the plan, but I never got that far.”
By the time he dropped her off and found a hotel, he’d barely have an hour before he had to leave again.
