My Sister, Myself. Alice Sharpe

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СКАЧАТЬ her eyes for a moment. The whiskey had moved to her head. She tried to imagine her sister walking down the sidewalk as a white van barreled toward her. Katie wouldn’t have just stood there waiting to be hit. She must have been distracted. Had she realized what was coming in the split second before metal hit skin and bone?

      “I told you they checked her purse and found the letter your father left her but no identification. The traffic officer recognized Matt’s name on the letter. It took a few hours for someone to get ahold of me. By that time Katie was as you see her now, comatose, unreachable.”

      Tess still wasn’t sure what Ryan was saying. Her expression must have betrayed her confusion because without waiting for her to think of the right question to ask, he added, “I think she’d been poking around. My guess is she came across something someone was hiding.”

      “And so they tried to kill her?”

      “Exactly. If I hadn’t fallen for the way she blew me off that day, if I hadn’t been worried about my own future and been so angry with Matt for betraying me and everything I thought he stood for, I might have been able to talk some real sense into her. I might have been able to prevent this.”

      Tess stared hard at him. There was genuine pain in his eyes—pain and guilt. And it seemed out of proportion to his story. Did a man in his line of work take responsibility for everyone they knew, every problem that crossed their path?

      “But at least you know where to start, right?” she said slowly. “I mean, it must be that stepson. Or that Desota guy. You find which of them has a white van and you arrest them and then they tell us what happened to Katie’s father—” She caught herself and amended, “To our father. This could be a big break, right?”

      “I’ve already done all that. There’s no white van registered to Nelson Lingford. No rentals, either. As for Vince Desota? He owns a few vans—he runs an electrical contractor business, and yes, they’re white. None unaccounted for or damaged. It’ll take time to go through Nelson’s other enemies, and unless there’s an official investigation, it won’t do much good anyway. There’s no proof that Katie’s hit-and-run wasn’t an accident. The traffic officer signed it off. It’s been lousy weather and there have been a lot of traffic accidents lately.”

      Tess stared at her empty mug. “I see. I think.”

      “And there’s one last thing,” Ryan added. “The last number dialed on her cell phone was mine. I wasn’t in the office and she didn’t leave a message. I guess she didn’t have my cell phone number, just the department’s. The time recorded for the call is compatible with our witness’s estimation of when the accident occurred. She was walking to or from her car, we think, when she was hit. I can’t help wondering if she was coming to find me.”

      “So she tried to reach you.”

      “Yes.” He took a swallow of his coffee and added, “What I’m trying to say is simple. I’m sorry.”

      She met his gaze and nodded.

      He put a few bills on the table as he stood up. “You must be dead on your feet. Did you get a hotel already? If not, there’s nothing wrong with this place. I’ll go get your bag and—”

      “I don’t want a hotel,” she said. “I’ll spend the night in Katie’s room.”

      “That’s not a good idea.”

      She stood, too, still forced to look up at him because of their height difference. “This isn’t your decision to make, Detective Hill.”

      He appeared startled by her comment, as though he wasn’t used to being crossed. He appeared to be a solid, healthy man used to taking control, caring but persistent, the kind who expected to shoulder every burden. There was another element to him, as well, that lurking hurt she’d seen behind his eyes.

      “I can’t offer you forgiveness for how you reacted or didn’t react when Katie asked for help,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I’m not my sister, I can’t absolve you for her.”

      “I know,” he said softly.

      “Then—”

      “I’m not asking for you to forgive me,” he said, his gray eyes smoldering. “I know I screwed up. I know I let her down. I thought of myself…I should have—”

      He stopped himself, shook his head and added, “I’m just trying to explain why I’m back in the game. If I can’t find out what happened to Katie from within the department, then I’ll take vacation time and figure it out on my own. It’s as easy as that.”

      She had no idea what to make of this guy. She’d never met anyone quite like him.

      He added, “I’m also going to make sure you stay in one piece, Ms. Mays.”

      Annoyed, she snapped, “I’m not your concern.”

      “Hasn’t it occurred to you that whatever happened to Katie could happen to you?”

      “Why should it? I’m not a threat.”

      “No, you aren’t a threat. You just happen to look like the woman someone might have found so threatening they tried to kill her.”

      Tess shuddered deep inside. She was a veterinarian, not a policewoman, not an adventurer, not brave or resolute or any of the rest. She’d grown up sheltered from violence, quietly accepting her role as her troubled mother’s keeper, turning to animals for comfort and companionship. She didn’t even know her sister, couldn’t remember one single thing about her father. For this she might be risking her neck?

      Her life back in San Francisco—the clinic, the animals, her partners, her friends—suddenly seemed a zillion miles away.

      Where in the hell was her mother? The woman had some major explaining to do.

      “At least let me walk you back to the hospital,” Ryan said.

      She nodded, not meeting his gaze, half ashamed of her gutlessness.

      And half terrified.

      RYAN SPENT THE NIGHT trapped in a restless dream where he tried to find his kid brother, running down one empty street after another. Every time he seemed to get close, however, Peter’s frightened voice would fade away and begin again somewhere else and Ryan would be off again.

      He’d had the same dream a hundred times and it never got any easier. He never found Peter, and he was unable to save him. It was a relief to wake up to no one but his cat.

      “Morning, Clive,” he said. Clive, as usual, sat perched on the foot of Ryan’s bed, wearing his inscrutable cat gaze. A trim black wraith, he lived in a secret world of his own Ryan only occasionally caught a glimpse of. Clive had taken the concept of the mysterious cat to heart.

      Ryan’s next thought was of Tess, of the last he’d seen of her, sitting in the stiff little chair beside her sister’s bed, yawning into her hand, looking small and alone. She might act tough, but he suspected it was a front. He’d wanted to take her to his house and protect her from he didn’t know what, but he’d made himself walk away.

      And now he knew what he had to do next. First he’d go into work and read every file he could СКАЧАТЬ