Family Lies (The San Diego Case Files #4)

Prologue

Carmel Valley, San Diego, California

Sixteen years ago

Katherine Matthews clutched the gift in one hand and the barn door in the other. She hated giving gifts nearly as much as she hated apologizing. Both of which she was going to have to do.

She didn’t hate apologizing because she hated admitting that she was wrong. She was wrong all the time. But this time she’d hurt someone. Someone who didn’t deserve her unpleasantness. Someone who’d tried to be a good friend.

Trouble was, Katherine didn’t want friends. She’d had a friend once—her sister. She’d loved Wren, but Wren was gone. Taken from them.

Murdered.

It was coming up on a year, and the cops still had no idea who’d done it.

This had been the first Christmas without her and…

Katherine swallowed hard. She would not cry. She needed to get this apology out of the way so she could go back to being angry at everyone and everything.

She drew a deep breath and pulled the door open enough to slip through.

She stood quietly, letting her eyes get used to the darkness.

There was an overhead light, but it hadn’t been turned on.

The only illumination came from a lamp in the stall where Katherine’s foster father carved his little figurines.

She appreciated the darkness. Things like apologies tended to be easier to say in the dark. And…there was the person she owed the apology to.

Akiko was gliding silently through the martial arts moves she did so gracefully.

In some ways, she envied Akiko Jones. Her current roommate was tidy and kind, smart and graceful.

Katherine bumbled through life, usually annoying people who got too close until they backed away. She was too much. She knew it. Everyone knew it.

Somehow she still had a place here, though. McKittrick House was a safe place—for her and for any child who walked through the front door.

Or, as in Katherine’s case, any child who snuck into the barn to get away from the cold. She and Wren had been twelve-year-old runaways when they’d stumbled into this barn. Into the path of Harlan and Betsy McKittrick.

The McKittricks were the reason Katherine stood here, watching her roommate do her karate dance. Kata, Akiko called it.

Be respectful, Katherine told herself. Use the right words. It’s important.

Akiko abruptly halted, spinning to stare open-mouthed at Katherine, who still stood next to the barn door.

“You scared me,” Akiko said quietly.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I’ll leave. I know this is your place.”

Katherine winced. “It’s just as much your place.”

Akiko tilted her head, her long black ponytail swinging slightly. “Why are you here, Kit?”

Katherine started to correct the name but stopped herself. For a while, only Harlan had called her Kit. But after Wren had died, others had picked up the habit. Katherine thought she should mind, but she really didn’t.

She might even like it.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

Akiko’s brows shot up. “For?”

Katherine sighed. This was the part she hated most. “For being a jerk. I’ve been awful to you.”

“You have,” Akiko agreed. “For months. Why apologize now?”

Katherine’s cheeks heated uncomfortably. “I made you cry.”

Akiko crossed her arms over her chest. “You did not.”

But she had. Katherine knew it. She’d snapped at Akiko and told her that she wasn’t welcome, that she wasn’t wanted. And she must have been convincing, because Akiko had cried.

Katherine swallowed. “Then I made you feel unwelcome at least.”

“That you did do.”

“You should have called me a jerk. I was a jerk.”

One side of Akiko’s mouth lifted sadly. “I understand. Well, I don’t understand because I’ve never had a sister murdered. I’ve never even had a sister. I can’t imagine losing one. So I got why you were angry. I moved into your room. Took her bed.”

“It’s not your fault, though.”

“No. And I could say that I’m sorry I came here, but I’d be lying. My last home was…well, not good.”

Katherine wasn’t sure if she should ask questions about that or not. She didn’t like talking about her past placements, but some of the kids who came through McKittrick House found it therapeutic. She was saved from her dilemma when Akiko spoke again.

“Why now, Kit?”

Katherine stared at her own feet. She was wearing new boots, a Christmas gift from her foster siblings who’d aged out of the system and were living good lives in town. She’d never had nice things before coming to McKittrick House.

She’d never been able to sleep before coming here, either. She’d always been waiting for the next assault.

She owed a lot to Harlan and Betsy McKittrick. More than she’d ever be able to repay. Importantly, their approval had come to mean a lot. She’d deserved their anger and disappointment many times in the past four years, but they’d never been anything but proud.

Until she’d made Akiko cry.

Which had totally happened, even if Akiko denied it.

“I didn’t realize what I was doing to you and the others.” Meaning the two other fosters currently residing in the best foster home in the world. “Mr. McK…” She sighed, remembering the sad look in his eyes. “He let me know that I messed up.”

Akiko seemed to understand. “Sucks when he does that. I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy or something.” She blinked. “Not that I’ve ever done that.”

Katherine’s lips tipped up in a reluctant smile. “Me either, but yeah, that’s how it felt.” That Akiko had disappointed Harlan and Betsy was a surprise. “But you never fuck up.” She winced. “Mess up.”

Akiko huffed. “I’m not gonna snitch on you, Kit. That’s not who I am.”

Katherine bit her lip. “I’m not sure I know who you are.”

Akiko’s chin lifted. “You never gave me a chance to show you.”

Katherine stepped forward until she stood a foot from Akiko.

“I know. And that was wrong of me. I wanted to fix this—fix me—for a while now. I got you this.” She held her hand out, palm up.

The little figurine was more beautiful than she’d expected.

She’d known Harlan would do a good job. He was a wizard with wood and a carving knife. “Merry Christmas.”

Akiko stared at the figurine, her crossed arms falling to her sides before she clasped her hands behind her back. Like she was afraid to touch it.

“It’s a crane,” Katherine supplied when Akiko said nothing. “Because when you do your karate dance, you look like a crane.”

Akiko looked up abruptly, and Katherine was stunned to see tears in the girl’s dark eyes. “Pop made it?”

Katherine was the only resident of McKittrick House who didn’t call Harlan “Pop.” He’d offered several times, even straight-out asked her to call him that, but she didn’t want to.

No. It’s that I’m afraid to. Because once they really knew her, they wouldn’t like her anymore. They’d make her leave.

He’s always been nice. He wouldn’t make you leave.

And she’d think about that later. For now, it was taking all her energy to do this apology. “He did. I asked him to. I bought it from him. Like a…commission.” That was what Harlan had called it when Katherine had approached him.

Akiko shuddered out a breath. “You paid him for it? In money?”

She knew what Akiko was asking. Harlan McKittrick had never done anything sexually inappropriate. Not even once. That it had occurred to Akiko made Katherine’s heart squeeze painfully in her chest.

“Half money. Half chores.”

“That’s why you’ve been mucking out stalls all week?”

“For the last three weeks,” Katherine grumbled. “And I’ve been washing dishes every night. But I still think he gave me a good deal. His carvings bring in hundreds of dollars. I didn’t pay that much,” she added ruefully.

Akiko slowly brought her hands to her eyes to brush the tears away before they spilled. “For me?”

“For you. I…I wanted to make nice a while back, but…” She sighed. “Mr. McK finished it about a week ago and I wanted to give it to you then.”

Akiko still hadn’t touched the offering. She just stared at it longingly.

Katherine understood that. Foster kids rarely got things of their own. When they were offered, it was hard to believe there wasn’t a catch.

“Why didn’t you?” Akiko asked.

Katherine’s eyes suddenly stung. “I…” She pursed her lips and willed the tears to recede but they didn’t listen. Keeping the hand with the carved crane where it was, she angrily dashed them away with her other hand. “The detective who’s been working Wren’s case thought he had a lead.”

“Detective Constantine?”

Katherine nodded. Baz Constantine came to McKittrick House at least once a month to give Harlan, Betsy, and Katherine an update on Wren’s case. He’d been doing so for the past nine months. Ever since Wren’s body had been found in a dumpster.

She tried to speak but the words were stuck in her throat.

“The lead wasn’t a lead after all?” Akiko asked gently.

Katherine shook her head, frustrated when the tears kept falling. “That bastard’s still out there. He killed her and he’s walking around free.”

Akiko wiped a few tears of her own. “Could have been us,” she whispered.

“I wish it had been me.”

Akiko shook her head. “You can’t say that, Kit. Promise me that you won’t say it again.”

“I can’t. I don’t lie.”

Akiko hiccupped on a small laugh. “You are exactly who you seem to be, aren’t you?”

Katherine shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know who else to be. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like you. I’d like to, anyway.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Then take the damn bird.”

Akiko giggled and took the crane, taking care not to touch Katherine’s skin.

Katherine appreciated that. She didn’t like to be touched. Even Harlan and Betsy didn’t hug her like they hugged the others. They understood.

“Thank you,” Akiko whispered. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t have to. You weren’t a jerk to me like I was to you.”

“Wanted to be,” she admitted. “But you’re Mom and Pop’s favorite and I didn’t want them to get mad at me.”

Katherine’s eyes widened. “I am not their favorite.”

“Well, maybe not their favorite,” Akiko allowed. “But they love you. You get that, right?”

Katherine nodded slowly. “I think so.”