To Trust a Stranger. Lynn Bulock

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      Where was her sister? Jessie was at the pacing stage. Laura was usually really good at calling if she was going to be late. Of course she wasn’t quite as good at remembering to charge her cell phone, so she might have had the best of intentions and not followed through. That was Laura. Still, most of the time she showed up when and where she said she would.

      Living with Laura’s quirks and habits was such a part of her life Jessie knew them all by heart. And they hadn’t changed that much since Jessie’s junior year in college. That was when Laura had turned eighteen and aged out of foster care. At the ripe old age of twenty Jessie gave up her brief taste of the carefree life on campus to find an apartment for the two of them and make a home for them.

      Even that long ago it had been Laura who’d concerned herself with the niceties of things. Jessie would have been content with “starving student” decor like bookshelves from planks and cinder blocks and a couple of mattresses on the floor if she had to have it that way. Their finances didn’t allow for much more. Still, Laura was always filling a jelly glass with wildflowers, or scrounging around in thrift stores for something else to give the place a little lift.

      The doorbell rang, jarring Jessie out of her thoughts. “Finally.” She went to the condo’s incredibly small front hall and looked through the peephole. The man on the other side of the door was alone and he didn’t look the way Laura had described the Web designer. Maybe he had gotten a haircut for the occasion.

      “Adrian?” she asked, opening the door.

      “No, I’m afraid not. Were you expecting him?” In the light of day it was easy to see this definitely wasn’t Adrian. This man was taller, lean in a fit way and his hair was a lighter brown than Laura’s description.

      Laura had called Adrian sort of different looking. “He has long black hair, usually tied back, and he’s very pale. Looks like the black belt martial artist that he is, somebody you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. But so far he’s been this big teddy bear to me.”

      This man was older than her students, probably older than her for that matter. Sharply dressed in a dark suit, the set of his jaw said he was definitely no teddy bear. He’d asked her a question and Jessie wasn’t sure how much information she should give a stranger, no matter how good-looking or nicely dressed he was. She decided to go with the minimum. “Yes, I was expecting someone. We had an eleven o’clock appointment.”

      “If it’s Adrian Bando, he won’t be keeping it. I’m Stephen Gardner with the St. Charles County sheriff’s department. I’m looking for Jessica Barker.”

      “I’m Jessica. And I’d like some proof you’re with the sheriff’s department.” He nodded and took out his identification as if he expected it. She looked it over quickly, trying not to panic. “Nobody who knows me calls me Jessica except for something very official. What’s wrong?”

      The man on the doorstep shook his head slowly, looking even more serious than before. “If you don’t mind, let’s do this inside.” He looked like Jessie knew she did when she had to tell a kid they were on academic probation. So the news wouldn’t be good. She asked him in then because she was afraid that if she stood there in the doorway talking to Stephen Gardner any longer she might pass out.

      “Something’s happened to Laura, hasn’t it?” Jessie didn’t usually get flustered easily but there was an air about Gardner that sounded alarms in her head. “Tell me she’s not dead.”

      He looked a little relieved then but his dark eyes were still somber. “She’s not dead, Ms. Barker. But she is in Mercy Hospital thanks to Adrian Bando or somebody who was in his apartment. And it’s bad. Quite bad.”

      Jessie felt her heart in her throat. “How bad? Are you saying she might not make it? She’s only been gone a little while. What on earth happened?”

      “There was a fire. And something happened to your sister even before that. I don’t think the doctors know yet how serious her other injuries are. But I know we need to hurry. If you get your things I can take you to the hospital.”

      Jessie got ready faster than she’d ever done anything in her life. Only halfway to the hospital in the unmarked sheriff’s department sedan did she notice that she wore two different tennis shoes. She hoped against hope that once she got to the hospital she could laugh with Laura about the shoes. Then she worried the rest of the way there that she might not get the chance.

      TWO

      Was this her sister? Jessie knew the still figure on the hospital bed had to be Laura, but her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The woman on the bed could have been anybody the same height and weight as her sister. The one eye not swollen shut was the same bright blue as Laura’s, but it wasn’t focused. Most of her hair was gone, burned in the fire that consumed far too many other things for Jessie to hope that her sister would live. But the hair that was left was the same dark gold Jessie knew. She’d envied it for years, knowledge that sent pain knifing through her now.

      “Her lungs filled with smoke from the fire. That’s why she’s on the ventilator, and partially sedated so that she doesn’t fight the machines,” the nurse explained softly.

      “Is there anyplace that I can touch her? Can I hold her hand?” Tears blurred Jessie’s vision and clogged her throat. It was hard to find a patch of skin on her sister that wasn’t burned, bandaged or had medical equipment attached.

      “You can sit here next to her. She’s going to drift in and out some, given the amount of pain medication she’s on. If she gets more lucid she’ll probably be glad to see a familiar face.” Jessie nodded numbly and found the hard plastic chair, pulling it as close to the bed as she could without getting in the way of anything attached to Laura.

      At least she wasn’t alone. The man from the sheriff’s department was still there, just outside the cubicle. “How did you know who she was, or how to get in touch with me?” she asked him. What was his title, anyway? In all the upheaval she didn’t remember any of that, if he’d even told her. Was he a deputy or a detective, or something else altogether?

      His voice sounded only a little less choked СКАЧАТЬ