“Thank you.”
He saw more than heard the words. Her lips moved, but almost no sound came out. “I’m going to the hospital to check on them. Not like I can do anything. Not like Paisley will appreciate it. But it seems like the right thing to do. If you’ll turn your phone on, I’ll call you with an update.”
“No.”
She didn’t want an update?
“I’ll come with you. Let me change.”
“Okay. Sure.” He stood when she did.
“Give me five minutes.”
He’d give her five hours if she needed it.
She didn’t. Four minutes and thirty-three seconds later, Anissa emerged from her bedroom. She had on slacks, a flowy top he’d learned she preferred during the summer because it made it easy for her to hide her weapon and the knife she always kept in her belt when it was too hot to wear a jacket, and a calm façade he knew didn’t match the emotions she was fighting to hide.
Her brown hair had been in a ponytail when he arrived but was now in one long braid down her back. A few wisps curled around her tanned face. Her hazel eyes studied him. “Sorry it took me so long.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
She tucked her weapon at her back and settled her shirt over it.
Wow. She was gorgeous.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
What did she say?
“Earth to Gabe.”
“Sorry. I guess I zoned out a little.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should drive. I bet you haven’t had more than three consecutive hours of sleep in a week. You’re probably running on coffee and Leigh’s cookies.”
“Just the coffee. I finished off Leigh’s cookies on Saturday.”
“I’m definitely driving.” She grabbed her keys. “You can doze on the way to the hospital.”
He’d laughed when she said that, but twenty minutes later she was saying, “Gabe. Sorry to wake you, but we’re here.”
He forced his eyes open and found Anissa’s face way closer than he’d been expecting it to be. Her forehead and eyes were scrunched as she studied him. “Maybe you should let me go in alone. You could sleep a little longer.”
“No.” He forced a laugh but cut it short. When was the last time he’d brushed his teeth? He tried not to breathe in Anissa’s direction. “If I fall asleep, I may not wake up until tomorrow.”
“That sounds like a good plan if you ask me. You’re pushing too hard.”
Gabe didn’t respond. She wasn’t wrong. He knew she wasn’t. But even with everything he’d done, it hadn’t been enough. He opened the car door into a wall of July humidity and climbed out.
Anissa did the same and they walked into the hospital in silence. They nodded at the security guards, said good morning to the volunteers at the front desk, and waited for the elevator.
They got on with several others, but after leaving them on the second floor, they were alone for the trip to the fourth. Anissa turned to him, the pinched look on her face the same one she’d had in the car. “Gabe, what I said, I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I wasn’t trying to tell you how to do your job. I just think you may be putting too much pressure on yourself. That’s all.”
What was she even talking about? Did she think he was mad at her? And if so, since when did she care?
The doors opened and Anissa darted into the hallway.
“Wait.” He rushed after her and grabbed her elbow. She froze but didn’t turn toward him. “I didn’t think you meant it as anything other than an expression of concern, Nis. I wasn’t giving you the silent treatment. You’re right, but I can’t stop. I’m making no progress on this case. I don’t have a lead, a suspect, a murder weapon. I have nothing.”
“You have a random shooting. You’re doing everything you can.”
“Well, it’s not enough.”
“Gabe.” Anissa put a hand on his arm. “I understand where you’re coming from. But not sleeping and not eating real food isn’t going to help you solve the case. When we leave here, you need to sleep. And eat something that isn’t a pastry.” She squeezed his arm. “Promise me.”
She wouldn’t break eye contact until he responded. He’d been in a staring contest with her more than once. She always won. And he wanted to say yes to her. “I promise I’ll try.” He pulled a mint from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. “How’s that?”
“Not good enough, Chavez. But I’ll allow it for now.”
They made their way to the pediatric ICU waiting room. Paisley Wilson sat alone in a corner of the room, knees drawn to her chin, arms wrapped around them. She didn’t look up when the door opened. Didn’t look up when they approached. Didn’t look up when they stood right in front of her.
Anissa knelt beside her. “Paisley?”
Paisley jerked like she’d been shocked. Startled, bloodshot eyes flicked from Gabe to Anissa. Mascara ran in black streaks and dripped to her shirt. “You heard.”
Gabe pulled over a chair for Anissa, then one for himself. “You told the nurse this morning, Keri, from the emergency department. Do you remember? You told her she could call and let us know.” Please let her remember. He didn’t want to get Keri in trouble for violating privacy laws.
“She said she was a friend of yours. That she could let you know. I wasn’t sure if you would want to know or not, but she was sure you would.” Paisley spoke in a monotone. “I . . . um . . .” Her words trailed off and she went back to studying her knees.
“Paisley.” Anissa’s voice was so tender. No one listening would believe she could bark orders like a drill sergeant. Or suspect she was speaking to someone she considered an enemy. “Is there someone we could call? Family? Boyfriend?”
A harsh, scoffing sound was Paisley’s only response.
Anissa met Gabe’s eyes with a questioning look.
He knew more about Paisley Wilson than was probably healthy. In the weeks and months after the fiasco when she ruined everything, he’d done his best to dig up any dirt he could find on her. He knew her habits, her favorite food, and he knew why she was here with Brooke instead of their parents. “Paisley, do you still live with your grandmother?”
A faint spark lit her eyes, but it didn’t catch into flame. “I guess you would know all about me, huh? Makes sense. I know all about you.” In that flat monotone, she didn’t sound aggressive. More like resigned.
Anissa’s gaze flicked from Paisley to him and back again, but she didn’t speak.
“This could kill Grandma.” Fresh tears poured from Paisley’s eyes. “I could lose everyone I love.”
Gabe’s mind swirled. Part of his brain, a small but vocal part, couldn’t help but observe that Paisley was getting what she deserved. That she was feeling the kinds of feelings—despair, agony, helplessness, hopelessness, and sheer terror—that her own recklessness had caused him to feel.
And if he was completely honest with himself, he’d imagined this moment. More than once. When he would get to see her suffer the way she’d made him suffer.
But another part of his brain, a part growing in intensity by the second, screamed at the injustice. Raged against the pain she was in. Reminded him that he was not judge and juror. And forced him to consider the very real possibility that it might be time to forgive her for what she’d done. Maybe.
“Paisley,” Anissa whispered. “I know it seems hopeless. But I also know God can restore.”
“Really, Investigator Bell? Really?” Paisley snarled the words at Anissa. “I know about Carly Nichols.”
Anissa’s hand fell to her lap, her tanned face paled, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t respond.
“And I know about the little girl.”
Who was Carly? What little girl?
Anissa’s response was not what he was expecting. “Then you know I know what I’m talking about. I’m not spouting platitudes at you. I’ve been here. I’ve been Brooke. I’ve wanted to die because of what I did. And I’m telling you that you cannot give up on her or yourself. And you sh
ould give your grandma more credit, because she’s probably more aware than you realize.”
“Indeed, she is.” A frail voice spoke from behind them.
Paisley jumped to her feet. “Grandma! What are you doing here?”
The elderly woman pulled Paisley into an embrace. “I’m here to help you, child. You don’t have to carry it alone.”
Gabe caught Anissa’s eye and they slipped out the door and into the hallway. “Should we stay or go?”
“Go,” Anissa said. “The only thing that will help them right now is time. And maybe answers. But the only thing I can guarantee is time.”
6
Anissa drove them back to her house, braced for the moment when Gabe would ask about Carly. And sweet Jillian.
But he didn’t ask.
He stared out the window, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get a read on his mood. Was he angry? Upset? Annoyed?
She should tell him everything.
But she dreaded the look he would give her. The subtle way their relationship would shift after she’d laid her heart bare.
It had happened before. Years ago. The guy had been everything she thought she could ever want, and early in their relationship—too soon or not soon enough, she’d never been sure—she’d told him. And he’d looked at her like the piece of garbage she knew herself to be.
The relationship ended within the week and left her feeling not only heartbroken but also exposed and taken advantage of. Two feelings she’d spent the past decade trying to avoid.
But she’d avoided this long enough.
She pulled into her driveway and put the car in park. “Do you want to come in?”
Gabe rolled his head from one side to the other. “Sure.”
He followed her inside and stood by the door as she tossed her keys in the shell and removed her weapon. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” He shifted from one foot to the other. Very uncharacteristic of him.
“Look—” Anissa began.
“Listen—” Gabe said at the same time.
They stared at each other. “You first,” Gabe said.
Here goes nothing. “I know you want to know about Carly.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, but if you’re in some kind of trouble or there’s something you want to talk about, you know I’ll listen.”
“I know. Please, have a seat.”
He sat on the sofa. She paced the room. “My freshman and sophomore years of college, I mostly stuck to a small group of friends. I hadn’t lived in the States since I was fourteen. I was still trying to figure out a lot of cultural stuff and I desperately wanted to be one of the cool kids. But I was the weird little missionary kid who liked to work out and dive.”
She didn’t dare look at Gabe. “My junior year, there was a guy in my public speaking class. Theo Kavanaugh. He was . . .” She could picture him. Tall, thin, blond, blue-gray eyes, perpetual tan, quick smile. “He was one of the cool kids. It was like a party erupted wherever he was. And I was . . .”
This was turning out to be more embarrassing than she’d expected it to be. She plunged ahead. “I was completely infatuated with him. I knew everything about him, or at least I thought I did. But I didn’t think he had any idea who I was. And I never imagined he would want to spend any time with me.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did,” Gabe said with a grim tone.
“You have nothing to base that on,” she said.
“Don’t I? I’m not blind. You’re beautiful now. My guess is you were one of the cutest girls on campus.”
Beautiful? Gabe—admittedly the best-looking guy she’d ever had an opportunity to spend time with—thought she was beautiful? “I think your sleep deprivation is making you delusional.”
“I call it like I see it.”
“Whatever. Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I won’t interrupt again.”
She resumed her pacing. “One day Theo started talking to me. He made me feel special. I know how stupid that sounds, but I was used to people ignoring me or teasing me. I wasn’t sure what to do with a guy who seemed to really like me. He claimed that he thought my family was cool. He asked me about Yap and the culture there. We talked about diving. I thought we had a lot in common. And then he invited me to a party.”
The muscles in Gabe’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.
“My best friend’s name was Carly Nichols. She was the real version of everything I pretended to be. Her faith was genuine. Her joy found in loving Jesus. She didn’t care about popularity or status. And she didn’t like Theo.”
When Anissa closed her eyes, she could see Carly standing in their dorm room asking her why she cared about this guy in the first place.
“I know now that Carly was picking up on things that should have been obvious. But I was so infatuated with Theo I didn’t notice. Or maybe I noticed but ignored them. I was twenty years old. It’s hard to know. Regardless, she was furious with me for wanting to go to the party.”
“But you went anyway.”
“Yeah. I went. And when I got there, someone shoved a red cup in my hand.”
Gabe closed his eyes and pulled in a shuddering breath.
“This isn’t going the way you think it’s going, Gabe. He never laid a hand on me.”
Gabe’s relief was palpable. “What was in the cup?”
“I don’t know. It was fruity and didn’t taste of alcohol. Not that I would have known the difference. I’d never had any alcohol before.” Or since. “I knew I should say no, thank you, but I justified it to myself. I figured I would hold the cup and take a few sips and no one would realize I wasn’t getting as drunk as everyone else.”
“I’m guessing that plan didn’t work out?”
“No. It didn’t. We mingled around the room and he introduced me to people I had only seen on campus or had a few classes with but had never spoken to. It was . . . nice.” How it burned to admit it. “I was with one of the most popular guys on campus and he thought I was interesting. I realize how incredibly shallow it was of me. I knew it was even in the moment, but it was nice to be wanted. Maybe even to be envied a little. There were some girls there who were obviously jealous. And I was glad.”
“Those are normal responses, Anissa.” Gabe spoke in a soft murmur. “Most twenty-year-olds would have done the same. Most thirty-year-olds would.”
“Well, I wasn’t most twenty-year-olds. I knew better. I was raised better. I didn’t know exactly what was going on around me, but I was pretty sure some of it was illegal and most of it was immoral. I should have left. I should have realized that there was no way this guy was someone I needed to be spending time with.”
“But you stayed.”
“I did. I had opportunities to leave, but I ignored them. I kept telling myself that one party wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
How wrong she had been on that score.
“He introduced me to a guy from Japan, who introduced me to a group of international students. I was enjoying our conversation—I often get along well with people who grew up outside the States the way I did. It was almost two in the morning before I realized that the cup I was holding wasn’t the same one I’d started out with. And that my date was nowhere to be found.”
“He left you?” Gabe’s protective response might have warmed her heart if she hadn’t known where this story was headed.
“In a manner of speaking. I excused myself from the group I’d been talking to and went to look for him. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t realized he was gone. I thought I’d been rude. Until I found him.”
Gabe looked toward the ceiling. “I’m going to guess he wasn’t alone.”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The crazy thing is, I wasn’t. I was embarrassed, but in a weird way I was relieved. I didn’t feel any obligation to stay, so I walked back to my dorm.
I got home around three in the morning and crashed.”
She walked to the window and stared out into her yard. “Carly woke me up at six. I was supposed to babysit for the youth pastor in our church, but I was so hungover I couldn’t do it. I tried to get ready, but I couldn’t get out of the bathroom. Carly came to my rescue. She was angry and hurt and disappointed, but she volunteered to babysit for me. She said she would tell them I was throwing up, which was a hundred percent true, and that she was coming instead. Her car was in the shop, so she took mine—”
Anissa could still picture it. While she had her arms wrapped around the toilet, Carly had pulled her hair back from her face, told her they would talk when she got home. Then she’d closed the bathroom door gently, even though she was furious.
“Anissa?” Gabe was standing right behind her. “What happened to Carly?”
She couldn’t stop the tear that broke free and trailed down her cheek. “I don’t know. They found her body in a Dumpster four days later. And the little girl—Jillian—was never found.”
Gabe put his arms around her. With her back against his chest, his lips tickled her ear as he spoke. “You didn’t kill Carly, Anissa. It wasn’t your fault. You must know that.”
“It should have been me,” she whispered. “I should have been with Jillian. I should have died in a Dumpster. I deserved it. Carly didn’t. She died for me.” The lone tear couldn’t contain her agony, and a torrent of sobs shook her body.
Gabe held her and wished he could take away the pain.
He’d had no idea she carried this kind of guilt around. And her despair about Brooke and Jeremy made so much sense now. She’d seen herself in Brooke—a girl who had made a stupid decision and gotten her best friend killed because of it.
Had Anissa also tried to kill herself in the aftermath of Carly’s death?
Was Carly the reason she’d become a cop?
He put his hands on Anissa’s shoulders and turned her around so he could see her face. For a brief moment she looked at him and her eyes held an ocean of pain. He pulled her against him. This time her arms slid around his waist and she rested her head against his chest until her sobbing calmed to the occasional tremor.
One Final Breath Page 7
