Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2) - James Patterson Page 0,69

as tough as the Ariana I know, but she is every bit as pretty as the woman she’s grown up to be.

She has a smile on her face and is looking up into the eyes of a boy. She’s obviously smitten.

“You recognize who she’s with?” Tom asks.

“No.”

The view of the boy isn’t quite as clear. The picture shows more of Ariana’s face than his. Just some small-town boy.

“That’s Gareth McCormack,” Tom says.

I pick up the book for a closer look.

“I’ll be damned.”

The long hair is gone. The beard. The boy in the picture appears fit but not nearly as muscled as Gareth. Though if I examine the face in profile, I can see the resemblance. The boy in the picture exudes confidence. Ariana is looking up at him dreamily, but the boy isn’t looking at her with quite the same affection. He has a cool air of indifference. He likes her, I can tell that, but not in the way she likes him.

She looks like a girl in love.

He looks like a guy trying to get laid.

Or maybe I’m just trying to project meaning onto his long-ago expression based on who I now know him to be. I feel sick to my stomach. Not just to see her dancing with him. But to see the way she is gazing at him.

“Did she ever mention that they dated?” Tom asks.

“Were they dating?” I say. “Or did they share one dance and the photographer happened to get a good picture?”

He points to the text along the side of the page, a list of the Homecoming Court. Ariana Delgado and Gareth McCormack were the Homecoming queen and king.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “This was more than ten years ago.”

“You’re probably right,” he says. “But these details are worth your attention.”

I sit back in the seat and flip through the book. Gareth looks to have been a star athlete in football, basketball, and baseball, as well as student body president. Beyond the Homecoming photo, Ariana’s presence at the school is undetectable—except for her listing among students with NO PICTURE AVAILABLE. I flip back to the picture of her and Gareth. It’s stupid to feel jealous, but when you meet someone you really like, you can’t believe she could ever have been interested in someone completely unlike you.

And there couldn’t be two people more different than me and Gareth McCormack.

And why would Ariana not mention to me this past connection?

From the start of this investigation, Ariana asked me always to be honest with her, never to keep her in the dark. But she was keeping something from me all along.

Tom Aaron looks at me gravely. “How confident are you that Ariana isn’t caught up in this somehow?”

Chapter 74

AFTER TALKING TO Tom, I climb into my truck and see another missed call from Dale Peters. I ignore it and head over to Tom and Jessica’s house, where I find Jessica in the garden, pruning rose bushes.

“I went up and down the street,” she says. “I knocked on every door. No one saw anything.”

“Damn it,” I say, flopping into one of the lawn chairs and taking off my hat.

I feel like that was my last chance to find some viable information before heading out of town. I run my fingers through my hair.

“How’s your rash doing?” she asks.

I look at my hands. The rash hasn’t spread, but it hasn’t gone away, either.

“Still itches,” I say. “My mind’s just too preoccupied to notice.”

“Any luck getting to the bottom of what’s going on?”

“No,” I say. “In fact, I’ve been kicked off the case. The chief’s running me out of town. I just broke the news to your husband.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

Jessica’s concern is palpable and reconfirms that I need to answer her question—by staying and getting to the bottom of this.

When I first arrived in town, the people here treated me with distrust. Some of them were openly disrespectful. But since then, it seems like the community has warmed up to me. People are nicer in restaurants. Some wave when I drive by. And a few of them, like Jessica and Tom, I’ve gotten to know pretty well. Good people who just want what’s best for this community.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jessica,” I say, rising from my seat. “But I can’t stay at your place anymore.”

“Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

“Better you don’t know.”

It doesn’t take me long to pack up my belongings. When I come back down carrying my duffel bag and guitar case, Jessica