by Alice Sharpe
“Absolutely,” Pike said and wondered how on earth they would accomplish that feat.
Dr. Stewart stood and they rose, too. “She wants to see you both. Normally I’d suggest she rest, but I don’t think she’ll be able to relax until she shares whatever has her upset, so you might as well get it over with. We’ll let you know when she’s ready.”
Once again they sat. If Pike had known Sierra longer, he would have tried to comfort her. It seemed almost natural that he should take her hand or put an arm around her. Instead, he decided to distract her with a question. “Tell me about your last case.”
“What?” she said as though she’d been thinking of way different things than work. “My case?”
“The one you had to leave to come here.”
She shrugged. “I have a client who is separated from her husband. She wants a divorce. She’s the one with the money. She signed a prenup that gives him a good hunk of cash if the marriage dissolves unless she can prove he cheated on her.”
“And you were employed to gather evidence.”
“Yes. So, she got wind he was seeing a woman out of town. I followed that woman to Jersey to a seedy bar. When a man who looked like my client’s husband joined the woman, I snapped pictures, but then I decided he was the wrong guy. Now I’m wondering if I made too quick a judgment.”
“Why?”
“Gut feeling, I guess.”
“Is that why you seem worried about it?”
“I suppose. It’s weird, really. There’s no reason to second-guess myself, I just do sometimes, and when that happens it invariably proves I noticed something, you know, like subliminally.”
“Did you contact your client already?”
“Emailed her, yes. She doesn’t like to talk on the phone. She always emails me unless we meet face-to-face, which only happened once. I’ll have to look at the pictures again when we get back to your place.”
He looked into her green eyes, eyes as clear as ocean-washed bottle glass. What he saw were things he admired in a human being: passion about their life and convictions, truthfulness and the desire to help. “Do you like your job, Sierra?” he asked.
“Most of the time. How about you?”
He smiled. “Most of the time.”
The nurse announced they could go see Tess. Sierra didn’t need any more encouragement. She walked briskly down the hall, still wearing Pike’s jacket, which, while way too big for her, looked sexy as hell on her lithe body. Her legs in the jeans and boots were shapely, tantalizing, and just to prove how long this day was getting, he found himself wishing the two of them were on an island somewhere, on a beach, lots of bare skin and warm sunshine...
“She’s in here,” a nurse said and the fantasy died a timely death.
Tess was an elfin-like girl with huge violet eyes and sun-streaked short blond hair. She could be very friendly and sweet or she could be testy and secretive, but the last two days were the only time Pike had seen her scared and he hated it.
Sierra immediately leaned over Tess and hugged her, then smoothed her hair away from her face. Tess looked pale and wasted and about ten years old instead of eighteen. Pike took her hand and squeezed it.
“I’m sorry I messed up,” Tess said. Her voice was even more hoarse than it had been and her nose was red.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sierra and Pike said in unison.
“I take Dad’s pills sometimes, but they must be different.”
Pike bit back recrimination. They could talk about being stupid on another day.
Sierra lowered her voice. “Tess, sweetheart, what’s going on?” she asked gently. “What’s the matter?”
Pike scooted a chair close so she could sit down. He stood on the other side of the bed.
Tess’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head.
“Start with where you went when you left your dad and Mona’s place,” Pike suggested.
“Danny,” she said.
“Danny? You mean you ran off with that guy you met last summer?” Sierra asked.
Tess nodded.
There was a look on Sierra’s face and a tone to the way she’d said “Danny” that rang a few alarm bells in Pike’s head. “Who’s Danny?” he asked.
More tears rolled down Tess’s wan cheeks and she sobbed into her hands. Sierra offered the tissue box and met Pike’s gaze, but she didn’t say anything. They waited until Tess calmed down. By now she was sitting up as she was apparently unable to handle the tears and congestion in a prone condition. Her breathing was raspy.
“My—my boyfriend.”
“They met at the beach,” Sierra explained. “He’s a lot older than she is and—”
“He’s dead,” Tess mumbled.
Sierra sucked in her breath. Pike leaned forward. “How did he die?”
“Someone—someone shot him.” She buried her face in her hands and cried so hard her whole body shook. Pike hadn’t expended much energy in his life being unsure of himself, but he had to admit that in the face of all this grief he wasn’t certain where to start.
“Who shot him?” he asked at last.
Tess shook her head.
“Drug dealers?” Sierra asked. “Tess, was he dealing again?”
“I didn’t know he was doing that anymore,” Tess mumbled. “After I found out, he promised he’d quit because it scared me. And then we were in the car that Dad bought me, you know, the blue one? We were going to go for a hamburger. He said he had to talk to a friend and he parked outside a yellow house. He took the keys and left me in the car. I waited and waited but he didn’t come back out, so I went up to the porch. I heard someone yell from inside and then the door opened and Danny was standing there. He looked straight into my eyes. And then...and then I heard a shot and Danny just collapsed like someone let all the air out of him. I knew he was dead before he hit the floor. A man was standing behind him with a gun in his hand. I—I ran away. I didn’t have the car keys, so I just ran and ran.”
The last part had come out all in one breath while her voice got more and more ragged until, at the end, they almost had to guess what she was saying. After a few seconds of stunned silence, she added, “The man who killed Danny looked right at me.”
“Who was he?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What did the police say?” Sierra asked. “Why didn’t someone call Pike or me?”
“I didn’t go to the police.”
“Oh, Tess.”
“All I wanted to do was blow LA. I didn’t know where else to go so I came here. But what if he finds me? He has the car so he knows my name, he could find out about me, he could come here and kill...and kill me.”
“We have to call the Los Angeles police and your father—”
“No, please, no,” Tess begged.
She was shaking so hard by now and crying so pitifully that the nurse showed up at the curtain. “Is everything okay in here?” she asked.
“Maybe some water and another box of tissues,” Sierra said, putting an arm around Tess. The nurse hurried away and once again Pike and Sierra exchanged bewildered looks. He could imagine what she was thinking because he was thinking it, too. Tess was in trouble and it was up to the two of them to make it go away.
“You’ll be safe at the ranch,” he assured Tess as she sipped the glass of water the nurse delivered. “We’ve had our share of trouble and we know how to take care of ourselves and our own. You’ll be safe. One of us will be near you all the time.”
This seemed to calm her, and eventually she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
“May I speak with you outside the room?” Sierra whispered to him. They walked down the hall a few paces, then stopped. Sierra looked exhausted and he felt for her.
“I understand where you’re coming fr
om,” she said in a very soft voice. “I want to make it all go away for her, too. But we can’t hide an eyewitness to a murder. She’s going to have to grow up real fast starting very soon, because she’s right about the murderer knowing who she is. Who’s to say he won’t come gunning for her next? And you and I have both lived enough to know that safety is an illusion.”
“She needed something to hold on to,” Pike said. “It was all I could think to offer.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I know what you mean. You’re right.”
“We need to inform Doug, too. Tess is going to need her dad’s support in the months to come. I get the feeling Doug is a path-of-least-resistance type of guy.”
“He’ll listen to me,” Pike said, and he knew it was the truth. He’d bent over backward to be decent to the guy, both for Tess’s sake and, truth be told, for his mother’s.
“And I need to talk to the police and find out what’s going on,” she added. “Trouble is, I don’t know if any of this can be adequately accomplished over the phone.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not sure yet. We’ll have a chance to talk to Tess when we drive back to your ranch. We have to make her see she has an obligation to Danny and society and to herself, too.”
He nodded and tried to look positive about their chances, but Pike realized he might actually know Tess better than Sierra did. He’d be stunned if she agreed to return to LA without a fight.
* * *
“NO WAY,” TESS SAID. A few hours had passed and she sounded more like herself, though obviously close to the end of her rope from the stress of the past several days. Her nose was still red and her eyes watery.
“Be reasonable,” Sierra said gently and reiterated her conviction that they needed to inform Doug and the police in person.
“I won’t go,” Tess said. “Pike said I’m safe here, and I believe him.”
“You have to talk to the police,” Sierra said for about the fifth time. “They’ll have questions only you can answer.”
“I’ll tell you everything I know. You talk to them.”
“And leave you here alone?”
“I won’t be alone, I’ll have Pike. And while you’re in LA, you can see my dad and tell him what happened. If he cares. He probably doesn’t. Oh, and you can go to Mona’s house and get my things.”
Sierra had to admit she was a little startled by Tess’s refusal to budge. She herself lived in a world of cooperation with law enforcement. She could hardly imagine Tess shirking this basic responsibility. On the other hand, Sierra had seen a man shot dead once, too, and it had shaken her down to her bone marrow. She tried again. “Your dad won’t listen to a word I say so there’s no point in my talking to him. And Mona is not going to let me rifle through her house looking for your stuff.”
“Then Pike should go.”
“But if you aren’t going to explain things to the police, I have to. Even then, they’ll probably have someone in Idaho come debrief you or even send one of their own investigators. And that’s a best-case scenario. When they catch the murderer you’ll have to testify at his trial. If you don’t, they could issue a warrant and make you return.”
“I’ll do whatever they want as long as I don’t have to go back to LA. And if one of you has to talk to Mona and Dad and the other one has to talk to the cops, then both of you go.”
By now they were coming over the hill into the main house’s yard. The house was well lit, shining like a Christmas-card picture with the clear skies overhead full of twinkling stars. In a way, Sierra hadn’t really believed such quaintness still existed.
Grace met them at the back door, fussing and nervous, and for a second, Sierra thought it had to do with them bringing Tess back to this house, but she soon realized she was mistaken.
“It’s those television people,” she said. “Frankie said they wouldn’t come until the weekend but then they got wind a storm is expected and they decided to drive here straight away.” She waved an irritated hand and turned her attention to Tess. “Oh, you poor thing. Come with me. We’re going to get you all comfy in the downstairs room. I already moved the humidifier close to your bed. I’m going to spend the night with you. It’ll be like a slumber party! But don’t you worry, Frankie and your Uncle Harry will be on alert. Pike called and gave us a heads-up. You’re safe here with us.”
“I’ll stay with her—” Sierra began, but Tess had already allowed Grace to put an arm around her and lead her down a short hall. Sierra gazed up at Pike, who smiled at her.
“Feel like you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole?”
“Kind of,” she admitted. “I can’t believe how stubborn Tess is being.”
“She’s had quite a day, you know.”
She shook her head, a reluctant smile playing with her mouth. “Are you always so kind?”
“Not always, no.”
“She’s settling in,” Grace said a second later when she returned. “She asked if she could stay here with us while you and Pike take a short trip to LA to ‘fix things.’”
“I would never ask such a thing of you,” Sierra said, horrified.
“Don’t be silly. Tess is Pike’s sister so she’s one of ours. There are more than enough of us to keep an eye on her and I mean that in every sense. You have to remember, she’s visited here before, stayed in this house, cared for the horses. She feels at home here in a way, don’t you think, Pike?”
“No doubt,” he said.
“Exactly. And remember, last summer you took her all around, to see the ghost town and the old gold mine and the hanging tree and the lake up in the mountains? That gives her a sense of place and nothing makes a frightened person more comfortable than a sense of place.”
“I wouldn’t argue with you,” Pike said diplomatically.
“You know what family means to me, Pike. Everything. Go do what you have to do. I’ll try getting her used to the idea she’s going to have to return to California.” She looked closely at Sierra and shook her head. “You look almost as tuckered out as your sister does.”
“I’d be happy to sleep in Tess’s room,” Sierra said.
Grace shook her head sadly. “It’s too small for three of us and Dr. Stewart asked that I stay with her through the next couple of nights.”
“Then another room?”
Grace was the soul of hospitality and Sierra could see it pained her to have to shake her head. “I’m so sorry. The television people will be here until about midnight and they’re taking all our extra rooms. I don’t know why they couldn’t wait to get here until morning like ordinary people. Pike, I didn’t offer your place for lodging, so you have room there for Sierra. Now you get her home and tucked in before she falls over.”
Sierra opened her mouth to protest, but what was the point? Grace was doing what the doctor ordered and the truth was she was so tired that her ability to process any more information seemed doubtful.
“I believe Gerard put Sierra’s suitcase in your SUV so it’s ready to go,” Grace added, directing her comment to Pike. “He said to leave Kinsey’s car here and he’d pick it up later. And Sierra, I spot-cleaned your jacket. It’s hanging in the closet—Pike, get it for her, will you? I don’t know what to say about your boots,” she added.
“I’ll brush them, they’ll be fine,” Sierra assured her.
“I hope so. Gerard told me what happened. I don’t know what got into that dog. Give me a minute and I’ll put soup in a thermos so Pike won’t have to cook.”
They left a few minutes later, laden with soup and freshly baked bread. Sierra had finally given Pike back his jacket, and hers, while clean as a whistle and way better fitting, wasn’t as comfortable as his had been.
“What exactly did Grace mean when she said that thing about family meaning everything?” Sierra asked as they walked to
Pike’s vehicle.
“Don’t most people feel that way?”
“Yes, but there was another quality in her voice.”
“Grace is actually Kinsey’s mother as well as her mother-in-law. Kinsey was raised by her grandmother after her grandmother killed her father.”
Sierra stopped walking. “Wait, are you saying Grace’s mother killed Grace’s husband?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Of course, it didn’t go down so cut and dried. She was eventually exonerated but it tore the family apart for over two decades.”
Sierra continued walking, and when they reached the SUV she sank into the passenger seat with a sigh. “I’m so tired I could sleep standing up,” she commented, and as the headlights swept the dark road ahead, she closed her eyes and didn’t open them again until the vehicle slowed down.
Pike pulled up in front of a red barn. Illuminated pillars stood on either side of a large double door. As she watched, a plump yellow dog nosed its way through a dog flap, yawning and stretching and wagging its tail. The dog moved to Pike’s side of the car and when he opened the door, he spoke to her.
“Hey, Daisy,” he said, and ran his hand along the dog’s head. “Did we wake you up?”
“This is the barn you live in?” Sierra asked as she got out of the car, wary lest this dog jump on her, too. But Daisy seemed to only have eyes for Pike and attached herself to his side as he retrieved Sierra’s suitcase and unlocked the door.
“Yep. Come inside. It’s freezing out here. Those film people are right, we’re going to have snow by the weekend.”
He switched on lights and she found herself in a huge open space with rafters high above the floor. A wall covered with all sorts of shelves housed books and all sorts of other things, including a small painting of Pike wearing glasses, sitting on a hay bale, his expression inscrutable.
“Kinsey’s work,” Pike said. “If you sit down for too long, she draws or paints you.”
“She’s good.”
“Yeah. And before you think I’m the kind of guy who goes around framing pictures of himself for display, Kinsey gave me that for Christmas and placed it right where it sits.”
