Part 33 (1/2)
She was being uncommonly strong. Nearly anyone else--man or woman--would be on their knees after the past few days.
”Tell me about him,” he said, hoping that talking would help.
”He was a hard man to know. Distant.” She started talking, and the words flowed out. ”Demanding. For years I did everything I could to get his approval, but nothing seemed good enough. He was furious when I left the district attorney's office. He had plans. A judges.h.i.+p was the least of them.”
”I heard he'd been a prospect for a judges.h.i.+p.”
”It was something he always wanted.”
”Why didn't he run for state judge?”
”He wanted the federal bench.”
She needed to talk. He felt a little manipulative that he encouraged her to do so. Charles Rawson had been one of his suspects in the murder of Prescott fifteen years earlier. He should warn her. And yet... the closer he came to answers, the safer she would be.
She suddenly went quiet but her eyes searched his as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Telepathy? He had never before felt the kind of connection he felt with her.
”Why did you come here this morning?” she finally asked.
”I thought you might need a friend.”
”Are you that?”
”I think so. I'm a good listener.”
Emotion swirled in those gorgeous eyes. ”Neither of my parents would be nominated for mother or father of the year,” she said. ”But they were all I had. The only family. Except...”
”The sister you've been trying to find.”
”Yes.”
”Which makes it all the more important.”
”Yes.”
”Everything began after you learned about her.”
She looked at him, her eyes huge. ”Why didn't I pay attention when my father told me to leave it alone?”
”You said he warned you last night. Had he done it earlier?”
She nodded. ”After my mother told me about my sister, I confronted him. I asked him if he knew about it.”
”Did he?”
”He didn't really answer. He just said it would soil my mother's reputation. And his. I really thought that was the only reason....”
He read the guilt in her face and hated Charles Rawson. The man had been her father, for G.o.d's sake.
”How was he acting last night?”
”Nervous. It was unusual because he usually kept his emotions to himself. He asked me if I'd told anyone about my half sister.”
”And you said you had. To me?”
”Not you specifically. To the police.”
”Then what?”
”He asked me if I had any idea of what I'd done. Then he left.” Tears were in her eyes. ”Mrs. Starnes. My father. It's my fault. Why didn't I just leave it alone?”
He wrapped his arms around her again and kissed the area around her eyes. ”Because your mother asked you. Because someone is trying to keep a deadly secret. And secrets have a way of surfacing.”
”It's my fault,” she insisted.
”No, Meredith, it's not. Your parents made choices years ago. I suspect they weren't the wisest choices. I think that's why your father died. Not because of anything you did.”
Her body trembled.
He held her against him, then asked the question he had to ask. ”Is there any chance your mother might wake from the coma?”
”The doctors don't think so.” Then she sat straight, pulling away from him. ”Do you think someone might try to kill her, too?”
”Not if she's in a coma. They've already taken too many chances. Perhaps they hoped your father's death would be considered a simple hit-and-run. Your mother's death ...”
”It wouldn't be that difficult, though. She's dying. An extra shot of morphine or--”
”There wouldn't be a reason,” he a.s.sured her. ”Not unless she regains consciousness. And even then she may not know any more than she told you.”
”When is it going to stop?” Her voice trembled. The words were more a plea than a question.
”I don't know,” he said. ”This sister seems to be the reason behind everything. We can't keep it to ourselves any longer. I have to tell my partner. You have to tell Byers.”
She knew he was right. And now it couldn't hurt her father. Or her mother.
She nodded. ”Then I have to find my sister, don't I? That's the only way we can unravel this puzzle.”
”Yes, but not alone. I don't want you alone from now on.”
”That's something else,” she said suddenly. ”My father said he was going to hire protection for me. He knew something. He wouldn't tell me what.”
”Perhaps he left something at his office.”
”I'll...” She'd started to say she would go by the office later in the morning, but there were so many other things to do. Visit the coroner's office, for one. Make funeral arrangements. Notify people.