Cold blasts me as I hurry across a breezeway separating the main station from the garage where Gabby’s Charger sits as evidence. The techs have already been through the car, but I want to see it in the light myself.
I snap on plastic gloves and open the passenger door. It looks much as it did last night. Dark pools of dried blood cover the floor board. Smears of blood are on the driver door handle. A faint mark of blood is smeared on the hood of the car, most of it washed off in the rain. Curious. How did Nolan’s blood get on the hood?
Then I remember the torn off wipers and the blood all over Gabby and make the connection. I shake my head at my sister’s antics. She says I have the temper, but the wipers may disagree.
“McAllister,” an officer pokes his head into the garage. “Captain wants to talk to you.”
My stomach sinks. I’ve been avoiding this. He’s going to want an update which I don’t have. Going to ask a bunch of questions I’ve already asked myself and don’t have answers for.
“Might as well get this over with,” I mutter under my breath.
The other officer looks so pleased at my discomfort I want to smash his teeth in. I get sick of the sideways glances and barely whispered comments about my family. Open enjoyment at my impending unpleasant conversation infuriates me.
I wish I had gone to talk to Gabby instead of sending Lucas. Compared to an interrogation from my boss, talking to my sister would be a picnic.
Chapter 18
Gabby
Grandma Dot is already working in the beauty shop when I come down stairs. Without my phone, I didn’t realize how late it was. The batteries in the clock in my old room died long ago.
“You should have woken me,” I say and kiss her cheek.
Only two old ladies are in the shop, and neither is surprised to see me. I feel self-conscious in the sweat pants and oversized t-shirt Grandma loaned me. The pants are way too small and fit more like leggings. The t-shirt says “I’m a beautician, not a magician.”
“Stop fidgeting, you look fine,” Grandma says, reading me correctly.
“I’m going to be late for work,” I say, then realize I don’t have a car.
“You’re not going to work today,” Grandma says.
“Dear, after all you went through last night, you deserve the day off,” one of the ladies chimes in.
I arch an eyebrow at Grandma. “You couldn’t wait to tell everyone could you?” I ask good-naturedly.
“Gotta keep the ladies entertained.”
I give her an exaggerated sigh and go into the kitchen for coffee and to call in from the kitchen phone.
My boss makes no attempt to hide his anger at me. “An appointment?” he asks. “More likely you’re out playing detective.”
“If you must know, it’s an appointment with the police to give my statement about a murder I was nearly part of last night.”
A better man would have shown some sympathy. Instead he says, “You might want to think about whether you want to work here or chase bad guys for a living. All this attention around you reflects badly on our company.”
I literally hold the phone away from my ear and stare at it in surprise. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you and the company.” My mind tells me to stop talking, my mouth keeps running. “You aren’t the only one whose life is complicated from knowing me. You should try being related to me.” I replace the phone on the receiver with a satisfying slam.
“Crap on a cracker,” I yell to the kitchen.
Grandma peeks her head through the sliding door separating the beauty shop from the rest of the house. “Everything okay?”
“I might have just gotten myself fired.”
“Worse things happen. Get some coffee, you’ll feel better.” She ducks back into the shop.
I kill time on the couch with Jet, watching old Dukes of Hazard reruns on cable and avoiding the beauty shop. I tried sitting in there for a while, but everyone has questions, and I don’t have answers.
I check the clock for the twentieth time. It’s getting late in the afternoon and no one has come to take my statement. I want my phone, and I want my car. I want to go home and put on my own clothes. Mostly I want to catch whoever hurt Addlynn and killed Nolan so life can go back to normal.
“I’ll never be normal,” I say to Jet. “But a girl can dream.”
Jet barks, but not in reply to my pity party. He jumps off the couch and races down the hall to the kitchen. Someone is finally here to interview me.
I’m relieved to see Lucas and not Dustin on the back porch.
“Hello, Detective,” I say in what I hope is a coy, teasing voice. “So nice to see you.”
“You’re in a better mood,” he says.
“I’m sorry about last night. I was in shock and not myself.”
“No apology necessary, Gabby. Ready to do this statement?”
I motion for him to sit at the table and bring him some sweet tea automatically. “Do you have my phone? I feel naked without it.”
He pulls it from his pocket and hands it to me. I see a notification on the screen of a text from Haley. “Heard about last night. Hope you’re okay. At least you get to spend more time with the hot detective (winky-face emoji).”
I smile at the text, then worry. “You didn’t see this text on the screen did you?” My face grows hot.
“Nope,” he says. But the pink in his cheeks tells me he’s lying.
“Haley’s words, not mine,” I say to cover my embarrassment.
“So I’m not hot?” He flashes me a smile I’ve seen work on other women.
“Oh, be quiet and drink your tea.”
Back on friendly ground, we get through the statement. I tell him everything I told him last night. Only adding a detail I remembered this morning. “Right before I got there, a white pick-up truck almost ran into me. It might not mean anything, but looking back now, it could have been the killer.”
“White truck, any distinguishing marks, or a plate number?”
“It had its brights on and I couldn’t see. It was more of a truck-shaped white blur speeding by. Sorry.”
“It’s more than we had before.”
“Any idea when I can get my car back?” Watching the Duke boys racing around in their Charger made me miss mine even more.
“Not sure when they will release it. You will need to have it cleaned before you drive it again,” he drops his voice.
“Bad?”
“Not great.”
“Grandma threw away all the clothes I had on last night.” I raise my arms to show off my current outfit. “That’s why I’m wearing this get up.”
“Interesting. I thought it was your Halloween costume.”
I smack his arm, playfully. “I’m a little old for Trick or Treat.”
“I think we’re done here. Want me to run you home?”
“I’m going to help Grandma get dressed for a party tonight. She doesn’t need the help, but doesn’t want me out of her sight. All you people worry too much.”
“Don’t start that again,” he warns with a smile. “I’m getting out of here before you start biting my head off.”
“You’re going to miss Grandma dressed as a show girl. She and Mrs. Mott are going all out this year.”
“Hate to miss the show, but I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you remember anything else.”
“You’re always my first call.”
I help Grandma tease her hair into a tower of stiff curls. “I don’t think it will go any higher.” I step back and look at her in the mirror.
“The higher the hair, the closer to God.” She pats a few strays into place, then coats it with a cloud of hairspray. The fumes make me choke.
“Good luck washing out all the hairspray tonight.”
“Is my makeup dramatic enough?” She eyes her reflection critically.
“Plenty dramatic for a church party,” I point out. “The dress itself is dramatic enough to give the old guys a heart attack.”
She holds out her leg and looks at her short skirt. “If you get to my age and still have nice legs, you gotta show them off.”
“Don’t forget the boa.” I hand her the length of hot pink feathers. She wraps it around her shoulders, tosses it with a flourish.
“Perfect.”
Jet barks and runs out of Grandma’s bathroom.
“I thought Mrs. Mott wasn’t coming until six?”
Grandma turns away. “That’s going to be Dustin and Alexis.”
“You didn’t tell me they were coming over.” Anger shoots through me. “I’d have gone home already if I knew they were coming.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. This family needs to talk a few things out. Alexis wanted to bring Walker over in his costume and I thought this was the only way to get us all in the same room.”
I feel tricked and cheated. “I don’t want to have a family meeting,” I pout.
“Too bad. I do.”
Grandma tosses her boa, looks over her shoulder, daring me.
If I had my car, I might just sneak away. But I don’t have a ride. I’m trapped.
“Fine, but Dustin’s just going to yell at me about last night. If he starts in, I can’t promise I’ll be good.”
Grandma huffs out of the bathroom, not pleased with my attitude.
A tiny pang of guilt pricks me. Grandma has done everything for me. If she wants to have a family meeting, it’s the least I can do.
I drag myself to the kitchen. Grandma has Walker in her arms, makes him giggle with her feathers. I rarely get to see Walker, and he looks adorable dressed as a corn cob. This forced meeting has at least that bright spot.
Dustin and Alexis sit at the kitchen table chatting with Grandma. They both stop short when they see me. The tension in the room climbs by several degrees. My face grows hot. Apparently Grandma didn’t tell them I was still here.
“Gabriella, isn’t Walker just the cutest thing?” Grandma ignores the tension burning through the room.
“He’s precious,” I say easily. “I love his costume, Alexis.”
Alexis mutters a thank you, looking from me to Dustin.
“Here, hold him.” Grandma shoves my nephew into my hands so quickly, I don’t have a chance to argue.
Alexis tries to hide her gasp of surprise, but fails.
I focus on Walkers face and say, “Don’t worry, I have gloves on.”
I sense she wants to protest me touching her child, but she sits back in her seat.
Walker reaches to touch my face with his round fingers. I catch them in my hand and plant a kiss on his palm. His skin smells wonderful and I breathe it in causing a strange stirring in my gut. I rub my cheek against his, hold him close. He laughs. The stirring sharpens to a pang. I’ve never even had a serious boyfriend, a baby of my own feels like a fantasy meant for other women. I tighten my grip a little and Walker makes the tiniest noise of protest.
Alexis jumps to her feet. Grandma beats her to him, and takes him before he can actually cry. The feathers bring another laugh from him. Alexis sits down quickly.
“I didn’t know you were still here,” Dustin says.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I answer on guard for a fight.
“I hope you’re doing okay after last night’s,” he pauses, looking for the appropriate word. “Situation,” he finishes.
He sounds concerned, not angry. I decide to play nice. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Why is normal conversation so hard for us?
The tension in the room has dropped a few degrees, but I still feel awkward. Grandma takes over with her usual ease.
“Since we’re all here, I wanted to have a little family meeting.”
The tension ratchets up quickly. Dustin visibly stiffens. “About what?” he asks.
“This,” she waves her arm around the room. “This dynamic isn’t healthy. You two need to learn to communicate. Alexis, you need to realize there’s no reason to fear Gabriella.”
Alexis is surprised to be singled out. “I…”
“You nearly jumped to take Walker from her. Nothing happened. He didn’t burst into flames.”
I don’t like her talking about me as if I’m not here. I don’t know what to do with my hands, where to look. I decide to sit at the kitchen bar, fold my hands in my lap since I don’t have pockets to shove them into.
I wait for Alexis’ response, curious. She’s never let me hold Walker before tonight. I’ve never asked either, knowing she’d refuse.
Alexis looks at Dustin for help. His face is unreadable. “Maybe I’m a little overprotective,” she concedes. She finally looks at me. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what to say, so I stare at a spot on the bar and hope the world will open up and swallow me.
Grandma seems satisfied and hands Walker back to his mom as if she passed the test and won a prize.
“Now, you two.”
I pray harder for a hole to swallow me. The world stays solid and real. I’m stuck.
Chapter 19
Gabby
“What about us two?” Dustin demands.
“For starters, you both got mad when you saw the other was here. Siblings should be happy to see each other.”
“Maybe we’re angry because you tricked us,” he replies.
I want to scream “Don’t talk to her like that.” I bite my lip instead.
“This is what I mean. I shouldn’t have to trick you so I can see my family. This should be a happy day, Walker’s first Halloween. The holidays are coming and I want to have Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas morning and all the things you do with family.” Grandma sounds older, more tired.
I hate that she’s hurting and that it’s partly my fault.
“We can do all those things,” I say.
“We can play nice,” Dustin adds.
“I don’t want you to play nice. I want you to be nice.”
Dustin crosses his arms on his chest.
I pick at the counter.
“We can’t just snap our fingers and everything will be okay,” Alexis says. “But we can try.”
Grandma looks to Dustin who nods, then looks at me. I nod too, hoping to end this.
“Good. In that spirit, we need to get a few things out in the open.”
I don’t like where this is going. I feel sick, wonder if I throwing up on the kitchen floor will stop her.
“Gabriella saw your father.”
She said it.
I burn inside. “I told you that in secret,” I protest.
“What?” Dustin yells at the same time, making Walker burst into tears.
“At Karen Jennings’ funeral. She saw Nathan afterwards.”
My blood pulses with betrayal. “You said you didn’t believe me. Now you tell Dustin?”
“After I thought about it, I decided if there was even a small chance you really saw him, we had to know for sure. Emily could be stuck in that prison for the rest of her life and Nathan could be out walking around somewhere.” Grandma’s eyes beg me to understand.
“This is crazy. Dad is dead. Dead, Gabby. No amount of wishful thinking or psychic powers will bring him back. Mom killed him. You need to come to grips with that and move on.”
I lose it. “She didn’t kill him. She would never do that.”
Dustin glares, defiant.
“She wouldn’t have hit me, tried to kill me, too. She wouldn’t.” Hot tears burn my cheeks, sweat drips inside my oversized t-shirt. Jet barks from his bed. Walker cries.
Grandma struggles to regain control over the chaos. I’m not sure what she hoped to accomplish with this little meeting, but I’m sure it wasn’t this.
“Please, Dustin, just look into it. If he is alive, all this could be over and Emily can come home.” Her raw voice tears at my heart. Her tower of hair shakes with the emotion.
“There’s nothing to look into. He is dead. D-E-A-D, dead. Get it?”
He spells out the word, each letter hitting like a slap. We’ve had this sa
me fight before, and it always ends like this. I want Grandma to have her holidays, her loving family, so I push.
“Can you please just ask around, do some detecting or whatever?”
“No amount of detecting will find a ghost.”
“I didn’t see a ghost. That’s not one of my abilities,” I snide.
“Why not? You always have all the answers. You and your gifts.”
“I never said I had all the answers to anything,” I feel my control slipping, try to claw it back. “You’re just jealous of my gifts. You’ve always been jealous. That’s why you hate me so much. Guess what, I hate you more.” The words burn my tongue.
“Gabriella Dorthea.” Grandma snaps. “Stop it.”
“Let her get it out,” Dustin says calmly. Too calmly. “You wanted to clear the air, be honest. Well there you go. She hates me and she’s crazy.”
“Dustin Nathaniel.” Grandma frantically fights for control. When we were kids, using our middle names always got our attention. I feel like a child now.
I glare at my brother, wish he would burst into flames before me. “Dustin Nathaniel,” I mimic, my voice heavy with sarcasm. “You’re in trouble.”
I’m being childish and petty and I don’t care. I almost stick my tongue out, but stop myself just in time.
My anger evaporates as something clicks in my mind.
“Dustin Nathaniel,” I say. All trace of sarcasm gone.
“You said that already,” he retorts.
“No, Gabriella Dorthea, Dustin Nathaniel. Don’t you see? Addlynn Jeanette. Nolan called her Addlynn Jeanette. They’re not last names.”
“They’re middle names. No wonder we couldn’t find anything.” Dustin’s anger disappears along with mine, replaced by excitement at a clue. “What were the other names you saw?”
“Claire Margaret.”
“So who is Claire Margaret?” he asks.
“I know.” Grandma pipes in. Dustin and I swivel our heads in unison. “It sounded familiar when you first said it the other day. But you said all four names and I couldn’t place it.”
We stare expectantly, hanging on her words. She tosses the boa with a flourish, relieved our fight is over. “Several years ago, a young girl disappeared in Toledo. It was all over the news for weeks. Her name was Claire Margaret Dawson.”
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