Dead Run by Erica Spindler

physical conditions such as—”
    â€œI’m a social worker,” she snapped. “I’m well aware of the kind of influences that can bring about a mental breakdown.”
    â€œBut you’re Rachel’s sister. Often it’s the people closest to us we see with the least clarity.”
    She ignored the truth of that. “I’m her only family. More than three months have passed. If she’s alive, why hasn’t she contacted me?”
    â€œI can’t answer that with any certainty, Ms. Ames. Perhaps she’s operating under some sort of paranoid delusions. Her behavior certainly suggested something of that sort. As did the claims she made on your answering machine. Or perhaps she’s physically unable to contact you.”
    Liz balled her hands into fists. “Are you suggesting she’s developed amnesia? That phenomenon is extremely rare, much more so than murder, I’m sorry to say.”
    He tossed his pen on the table, expression frustrated. “I’m suggesting nothing, Ms. Ames. I’m offering you possibilities.”
    â€œSorry, Lieutenant, but in my opinion, they don’t hold water.”
    â€œReally.” He cocked an eyebrow. “How about this one? Perhaps she doesn’t wish to contact you. By your own account, you two argued the last time you spoke.”
    Heat flew to Liz’s cheeks. Guilty heat. “Yes, we argued,” she retorted, tone defensive. “But not so bitterly that—”
    â€œIf she was murdered, where’s the blood? The signs of a struggle? The body?” He leaned forward, gaze locked with hers. “We found nothing to indicate your sister met with a violent end. That should be a relief for you to hear, Ms. Ames. I’m a little surprised it isn’t.”
    She ignored the comment, though it hit its mark. Why wasn’t she eager to believe her sister alive? What was wrong with her? “I want you to reopen the case.”
    â€œI’m sorry, but there’s no evidence to justify my doing so.” He stood, signaling an end to their conversation.
    Reluctantly, Liz followed him to his feet. “I’d like a copy of the police report.”
    â€œSorry, can’t help you.” He glanced at his watch. “If there’s nothing else, I have another appointment.”
    She had blown it, she knew. She had marched in here, all demands and accusations. Rachel had always admonished her for being a hothead. “ Liz, sweetie, try a little honey next time.”
    Liz swallowed her anger and held a hand out. “Please, Lieutenant Lopez. By your own account, the investigation is closed. Perhaps I’ll see something in the file you overlooked, something—”
    â€œYou won’t.” He met her gaze evenly. “Make no mistake, Ms. Ames, I’m extremely thorough. This is my town, my little slice of heaven on earth, and I take every infraction of the law seriously. I don’t look the other way and I don’t take the easy way. If I had found one shred of evidence indicating your sister was murdered, I would have aggressively pursued the investigation.”
    â€œAnd if I find evidence, Lieutenant? Will you reopen and aggressively pursue the investigation?”
    â€œYes, dammit. Of course I will.”
    â€œConsider yourself on notice, then. Because I intend to discover what happened to my sister. In fact, I’ve put my life on hold to do it. And I don’t care how long it takes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the business cards she’d had printed at the Speedy-print over the weekend.
    He glanced at it, then back at her, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I admire your determination. I think it’smisplaced, but hey, I’ve only been a lawman for eleven years. May I ask what your first step is going to be?”
    She shot him what she hoped was a winning smile. “Your report, of course.”
    He stared at her