from all that sugar.”
“ Do you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Fine. I’ll bring my own.”
TWELVE
His special cell phone rang—the one not registered in his name. He jumped at the sound. Only one person had the number. He answered before the second ring, nerves zinging. “I’m here.” “
It’s done.”
“Really.”
“Yeah.”
He closed his eyes. “How’d she react?”
“Scared. Surprised.” The caller’s voice hitched. “I think she’s in.”
“We don’t have time to ‘think.’”
Another catch in the voice. “She’s in.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothin’. It’s just wet out there.”
Sounded like more than that. He couldn’t afford to have anything go wrong. His stomach was already tied in knots. “Something not go right?”
“I told you—it went fine.”
He turned the words over in his mind. It had better be fine. “Okay. Keep on it. And keep me informed.”
“Yeah.”
He clicked off the line and stared at the phone, calculations churning through his mind.
THIRTEEN
Dineen and I stayed up past 2:00 a.m., talking and listening to the wind howl. Rain arrowed against her windows, refusing to quell. Noah must have felt like this.
The lights in the house were the warmest and loveliest I’d ever seen.
I sat against one end of my sister’s couch, legs drawn up and covered with a throw blanket. A small bowl on my lap held a dwindling supply of Strawberry Daiquiri Jelly Bellies. I’d had the sense to bring my bag of Orange Sherbets as well. They were number two on my list for calming nerves.
Dineen had settled at the other side of the sofa, bed-headed and clad in blue pajamas. She listened with ever-widening eyes as I related my insane story. Don’t tell anyone didn’t apply to my sister. God knew I needed somebody .
When I finished she stared at her light brown carpet, frowning. I knew the gears were turning in her head. Dineen liked to process everything before she spoke. I’d learned to wait out the silence.
She refocused on me, circles beneath her eyes. Her mouth held the same tightness as when she’d anguished over fighting her exhusband in court. Suddenly I was sorry I’d told Dineen. She didn’t need more stress in her life. She had Jimmy to raise.
“Joanne. Do you think that man was at your house tonight?”
For a moment I wavered toward saying no , offering my sister solace. Then I thought of Linda’s guarded tone the few times she’d talked to me in the weeks before she died.
“Somebody was. I’ve thought about it ever since the police left. On the way over here I remembered the last time I’d been through that door. It was yesterday, when I went out back to do some planting. I came in, my hands full of tools and plastic containers to throw away. I leaned against the door with my shoulder until it closed. Later I think I locked it. But even if I didn’t—that door was latched. It wouldn’t have blown open.”
“What would he want in your house?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe it wasn’t him at all. Could have been a burglar, and when the door slammed loud enough to alert somebody in the house, it scared him off.”
“Yeah, sure. Burglars always pick wet nights like this to go out. Leave less trail in a house that way.”
“You watch too much CSI .”
“I don’t watch any CSI . I’m a skip tracer, remember? I deal with bad guys all the time. After awhile you get to thinking like they do.”
The wind groaned. Dineen shifted her position on the couch. “So are you going to look for Melissa?”
I stared at her. A world of difference hung pendant between my sister and me, as much as we loved each other. She would never understand the guilt I’d felt over Linda’s death. If only I’d told the police what I knew of Baxter Jackson before she disappeared. If only I could have persuaded her to talk. Once she was gone it had been my story against the world’s. By then it was too late.
“I have no choice,
“ Do you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Fine. I’ll bring my own.”
TWELVE
His special cell phone rang—the one not registered in his name. He jumped at the sound. Only one person had the number. He answered before the second ring, nerves zinging. “I’m here.” “
It’s done.”
“Really.”
“Yeah.”
He closed his eyes. “How’d she react?”
“Scared. Surprised.” The caller’s voice hitched. “I think she’s in.”
“We don’t have time to ‘think.’”
Another catch in the voice. “She’s in.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothin’. It’s just wet out there.”
Sounded like more than that. He couldn’t afford to have anything go wrong. His stomach was already tied in knots. “Something not go right?”
“I told you—it went fine.”
He turned the words over in his mind. It had better be fine. “Okay. Keep on it. And keep me informed.”
“Yeah.”
He clicked off the line and stared at the phone, calculations churning through his mind.
THIRTEEN
Dineen and I stayed up past 2:00 a.m., talking and listening to the wind howl. Rain arrowed against her windows, refusing to quell. Noah must have felt like this.
The lights in the house were the warmest and loveliest I’d ever seen.
I sat against one end of my sister’s couch, legs drawn up and covered with a throw blanket. A small bowl on my lap held a dwindling supply of Strawberry Daiquiri Jelly Bellies. I’d had the sense to bring my bag of Orange Sherbets as well. They were number two on my list for calming nerves.
Dineen had settled at the other side of the sofa, bed-headed and clad in blue pajamas. She listened with ever-widening eyes as I related my insane story. Don’t tell anyone didn’t apply to my sister. God knew I needed somebody .
When I finished she stared at her light brown carpet, frowning. I knew the gears were turning in her head. Dineen liked to process everything before she spoke. I’d learned to wait out the silence.
She refocused on me, circles beneath her eyes. Her mouth held the same tightness as when she’d anguished over fighting her exhusband in court. Suddenly I was sorry I’d told Dineen. She didn’t need more stress in her life. She had Jimmy to raise.
“Joanne. Do you think that man was at your house tonight?”
For a moment I wavered toward saying no , offering my sister solace. Then I thought of Linda’s guarded tone the few times she’d talked to me in the weeks before she died.
“Somebody was. I’ve thought about it ever since the police left. On the way over here I remembered the last time I’d been through that door. It was yesterday, when I went out back to do some planting. I came in, my hands full of tools and plastic containers to throw away. I leaned against the door with my shoulder until it closed. Later I think I locked it. But even if I didn’t—that door was latched. It wouldn’t have blown open.”
“What would he want in your house?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe it wasn’t him at all. Could have been a burglar, and when the door slammed loud enough to alert somebody in the house, it scared him off.”
“Yeah, sure. Burglars always pick wet nights like this to go out. Leave less trail in a house that way.”
“You watch too much CSI .”
“I don’t watch any CSI . I’m a skip tracer, remember? I deal with bad guys all the time. After awhile you get to thinking like they do.”
The wind groaned. Dineen shifted her position on the couch. “So are you going to look for Melissa?”
I stared at her. A world of difference hung pendant between my sister and me, as much as we loved each other. She would never understand the guilt I’d felt over Linda’s death. If only I’d told the police what I knew of Baxter Jackson before she disappeared. If only I could have persuaded her to talk. Once she was gone it had been my story against the world’s. By then it was too late.
“I have no choice,
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