Brink of Death

by Brandilyn Collins

  Easy.

  “Erin.” I reached her side and put a hand on her shoulder.

  She pulled away from Kelly, threw her arms around me, and burst into tears.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was muffled against my shoulder. “It would be so awful to lose you, too.”

  Her words wrung my heart. “Thank you, honey, I’m just fine. Don’t you worry.” I patted her back, my eyes squeezing shut. I did not deserve this devotion from her.

  Footsteps sounded to my left. I looked around to see Dave approaching. “Hi, Annie.” Pain jolted through me at the gentleness in his voice. Erin stepped back and he held out his arms. I hesitated, then let him hug me tightly. Slowly my arms went around his back.

  “Thank you.” He breathed the words into my hair. “Dear God, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  My throat locked up. I could make no response. I could only feel his arms around me, this man whose beloved wife was killed a week ago because of what had lain hidden in my house. His chest jerked as he dragged in a ragged breath, mixing gratitude and grief. That did it. For the first time since Lisa’s death, I abandoned myself to a good cry.

  Dave didn’t seem to mind. He just held me tighter.

  After a few minutes I got hold of myself. Embarrassed, I eased away, one hand sheltering my eyes like a visor. I couldn’t look at him. “Sorry. I just…”

  Someone touched my arm. I glanced over to see Kelly peering at me anxiously. I couldn’t remember when she’d ever seen me cry like that. “Are you okay, Mom?” Her forehead crinkled.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “Really.” I glanced toward our hangar.

  “Why don’t you and Erin go help Jenna unload the plane. I’ll be over there in a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  Erin shot me a parting, sad smile, then she and Kelly headed across the street, arms around each other’s waists.

  I turned back to Dave. Things still needed to be said—before I lost my nerve. Perhaps I wouldn’t have possessed the courage without the events of the last few days. But so many emotions now swirled in my head, so many questions. Two days ago I’d faced down a multiple killer. I could certainly face Dave now.

  “Want to come inside?” Dave gestured toward his house.

  His eyes told me he perceived my need to talk—and my reticence. I saw no judgment in them at all.

  “Yes.”

  We walked up his porch steps and through the front door without speaking. Inside he extended a hand, inviting me into the family room. I lowered myself onto the couch. He sat in an armchair, hands clasped between his knees. I could not find the words I needed to begin. He filled the silence.

  “How’s the little boy—what’s his name?”

  “Tommy Sybee. He’s okay. I mean, as best as can be expected. His mother’s parents live in the area. They’re taking care of him.”

  “And his father?”

  I pressed my lips together. “In jail for another three months. And absolutely heartbroken, from what I hear. His mistakes—they cost him so much.”

  “Yeah.” Dave bounced his hands off one knee. I knew he empathized with Edgar Sybee, thinking about his own loss.

  “What about all the logistics with you? Everything going to be all right?”

  Logistics. He had chosen a tactful word. In the eyes of the law, there is nothing simple about fatally shooting another human being, even if it is clearly in self-defense. I’d had to give numerous statements. The police went over and over the crime scene. Much paperwork remained, not to mention meetings with the D.A. over whether or not they would charge me with a crime. Chetterling told me not to worry.

  “No way they’re going to charge you with anything. You solved our murder as well as theirs—that is, if they’re smart enough to reexamine their evidence.”

  I nodded at Dave. “I’m sure everything will be fine. After all, they let me come back today. And Jenna can fly me down if I need to put in a final appearance.”

  “Or I could. And she could stay with the kids.”

  Was there no end to this man’s gracious spirit? “Thank you.”

  Dave focused on his feet.”Speaking of the kids…Detective Chetterling mentioned that Stephen was giving you trouble.”

  He glanced up and, seeing my expression, added hastily,”I don’t think he meant to say it, but it slipped out when he talked about how you planned on coming back as soon as they’d allow it.”

  He looked down again for a moment, then lifted his eyes to mine. “I don’t know much about raising boys, but if I can be of any help…”

  My heart panged at this second generous offer. He had enough problems of his own. “Thank you. Stephen’s going to be a handful, I know. Already is.” As it turned out, Stephen was the one who’d called me three times while I was at the Sybees’ house. He’d figured out I was picking up Kelly so we could leave the Bay Area, and wanted to harangue me about it. “But I must say, when he really understood that he almost lost me, he did soften up a bit. He didn’t even give me a hard time about coming back here.”

  “Don’t ever think he doesn’t love you, Annie. I wasn’t that easy to raise myself. Went off the deep end a few times, and my mother nearly despaired over me. I treated her so terribly, even when I needed her the most.”

  I could find no response to this. Never would I have imagined Dave being as difficult to raise as Stephen. “And look how you turned out. Gives me reason to hope.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “There’s always hope.”

  We fell silent. I gathered my nerve. “Dave, I—”

  “Look, I just want to thank you again.” His words ran over mine. “Oh, sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Go ahead.”

  He spread his hands, then clasped them once more. “I just couldn’t believe it when I got the call from Detective Chetterling. How you insisted on helping. What you did. How you almost lost your life.” He glanced away, unable to continue.

  “I had to.” As if a dam had broken, the apologies gushed from me. “I’m so sorry we left without saying why. Detective Chetterling didn’t want me to tell you, but I felt just terrible about it. And I’m so sorry that file was in my house. If I’d only known about it, if I hadn’t waited so long to clean the office—”

  “Annie.” He laid his hand on mine. “Stop. None of this is your fault. Nobody blames you, certainly not me or Erin. I can’t even imagine your apologizing to me. We can only thank you for all you’ve done.”

  I held his gaze, searching for the slightest hint that he did not believe his own declarations. And finding none.

  “Does God make you like this?” I blurted.

  Surprise flicked across his face. “Like what?”

  “So…forgiving.”

  “Like I told you, there’s nothing to—”

  “That’s just what I mean.” His hand still lay on mine, and I put my other one over it and squeezed. “Because after being at Lisa’s funeral, and seeing how you and your friends prayed, and talking to Gerri Carson…I found myself praying, and I’ve never done that before. And then when I was in that house, so sure I was going to die…” My throat tightened again.

  “I prayed then, too. I told Jesus if he’d just get me out of there, I’d…pay more attention to him. Find him somehow.”

  Dave smiled. “You don’t need to go looking for him, Annie. He’s been right here all along.”

  Self-consciousness rose within me. I pulled my hands away. “Somehow I knew you’d say that. But I’m just not ready to…I mean, I have to think all this through.”

  “Well, I don’t mean to push you. But let me say just one more thing on the subject, and then I’ll leave it alone. What are you going to do about that promise you made?”

  Promise. Somehow I’d never quite thought of it in those terms. At the time, quivering upon the brink of death, I had considered it more a desperate bargain. Yet the word pulsed within my spirit. I managed a weak smile.

  “I aim to keep it.”

/>   Well-wishers and grateful neighbors called throughout that afternoon. It seemed every time I put the phone down, it rang again. Around two o’clock Gerri Carson called from the Sheriff’s Office. She’d heard the details—they were all the department was talking about, she said—but she wanted to check in with me, make sure I was all right.

  I pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “Tell you the truth, I have my moments. Sometimes I’m okay. Sometimes I just want to bawl. Even though I had no choice but to pull that trigger, even though in my head I know he deserved it…Still, never would I have imagined killing somebody.” I traced a circle on the table with a finger. “Did you hear he has a sister who’s a quadriplegic? She was the one person he cared about, I guess, and he visited her all the time. Now she’s left without her brother.” My eyes stung.

  “This is hard, Gerri. I don’t think I’ve sorted out all my emotions yet.”

  “That takes time, Annie, so go easy on yourself. In fact, it’s the main reason I’m calling. I’d like to meet with you, give you a chance to talk about it.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Gerri.”

  “Hey, no problem.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “It’s part of my service. I’ve debriefed a lot of police officers and sheriff’s deputies who’ve experienced a tragedy on the job. You’ve been through no less, and I want you to know I’m available. In the meantime I’ll be praying for you.”

  Her help—and the prayers—were something I was going to need. “Okay. Thank you. Yes, I would like to meet.”

  “Great.”

  We set up a time for the following day.

  “Hey,” she said, “Ralph Chetterling just walked up. He wants to say hello to you.”

  I heard the clunk of the phone being passed.

  “Hi, Annie Kingston, heroine of the decade. Glad to hear you made it home.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Never in a million years would I have expected to hear such a statement from the detective.

  “Not to worry. We’re all fine.”

  “Good, good.” He paused. “So. Your sister tells me you’re going to study forensic art.”

  My mouth dropped open. “She what?”

  “Sounds great to me. No doubt we’ll need your help again someday. That is, at your drawing table. From now on you can leave chasing the bad guys to us.”

  No kidding.

  “Just when did Jenna tell you this?”

  “I don’t know. I think before you went to the Bay Area.

  But we talked about it again down there yesterday.”

  Before we even left Grove Landing. I shook my head. How had Jenna known? I hadn’t even realized how much the field was luring me in until last night in her town home. Exhausted as I was, I’d nevertheless chosen to read three more chapters of the book instead of going to sleep.

  “I can give you plenty of information, you know,” Chetterling continued, paying no heed to the tone of my voice. I swear, he could be as pushy as my sister. “There are all kinds of workshops you could attend. After all you’ve done for us, I’d be willing to bet that our department would even sponsor you to take classes back at FBI headquarters in Quantico.

  Although it can take a long time to get in, I hear. Would you be interested in that?”

  Whoa, this was happening too fast. “I…I…yeah, sure, why not? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt for you to get me the information, at least.”

  “Will do.”

  We said our goodbyes and I clicked off the line, placing the receiver on the table. When I pushed back my chair to rise, Jenna materialized from the laundry room. Of course.

  How much had she heard?

  Oh, no, no, no. I was not going to let her argue this subject with me. If I’d stood up to Tip, if I’d faced Dave, I could deal with my own sister. For once, she would not have the satisfaction of knowing she’d pushed me into some new venture.

  This one was going to be on my terms.

  She opened her mouth but I cut her off.

  “Jenna.” I pulled out a second chair. Pointed to it. “Sit down. I’ve been thinking about something…”