The Lost Sister (Sister Series, #8)

by Leanne Davis

  No. Nowhere. She had no place in his life anymore.

  But she was stuck there, literally, for now. A noise drew Chloe’s gaze over to Tara. Her animosity swept over Tara as she wrinkled her upper lip in a sign of clear disdain. “Tara, would you mind giving us some privacy? We have family matters to discuss.” Her icy tone dripped with resentment.

  Tara straightened up, rushing to do Chloe’s bidding and nodding nervously. Her face was solemn as she said, “Of course,” before turning on her heel and taking the stairs two at a time. She gently shut the bedroom door after her but soon regretted her decision to run upstairs. It was like clearly announcing how comfortable she was in Ryder’s bedroom. Ebony’s old bedroom. Tara was comfortable, or she had been. Until now.

  She sat on the side of the messed-up bed and gripped a pillow to her chest. It hurt. She leaned over it, her stomach cramping with nerves and rejection. It hurt so much more than she thought it could. Rejection. Not belonging. She’d grown so used to Ryder and his habit of treating her as someone important. As if her needs and wants mattered to him. She wasn’t an afterthought or an omission. Maybe in her own family she was, but until now, she was Ryder’s first priority. She easily grew used to it, expecting it and perhaps becoming a little spoiled from it. She hated to be dismissed from a room. Ryder didn’t seem to care that she was being so coldly addressed and treated almost as a troubling nuisance. No matter what, Ebony’s death was a huge game changer for her.

  Depressed and lonely, she quickly set the pillow aside and went into the bathroom to shower. She tidied up her appearance trying to look prim, proper, and unassuming. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she let two hours pass, growing restless. And hungry. When could she go back downstairs? Or go home? That was all she wanted. To go home. Wyatt had to be up by now. Wouldn’t they have to stop their discussion over Ebony if he were? Confused over what she should do, Tara finally opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could. She peeked her head out, tilting her ear to listen carefully, and she heard… nothing. Not a peep. Not a voice. Not a foot shuffling or a door shutting or an appliance being used. Frowning, she stepped out and stealthily approached the stair landing while trying to peek towards the living room. Eventually, she dared to walk downstairs only to find the house empty.

  No one was there, not even Wyatt. Ryder’s truck wasn’t out front where she parked it yesterday. What in the hell? Had they forgotten her? Left her upstairs as if banishing her, and then they forgot to let her know she could come out?

  Anger flashed through her and she tightened her fists. Damn him! Damn this!

  Now what was she supposed to do? Yell at him? Reveal all of her insecurities now that his wife was found dead? Murdered. Left to rot in a swamp. She wilted against the counter. No! Of course she couldn’t do that. Someone had murdered his wife and obviously forced her to write a note to Ryder before draining their bank account. It was chilling to consider such a crime. Ice pricked her nerve endings as she imagined what the experience must have been like for Ebony. She had to realize that her demise wasn’t going to be gentle. Was there no hope of escape? Had she been held at gunpoint? Tricked? What? Tara didn’t know any details because as of now, Ryder hadn’t told her any of them. She knew nothing. And she meant nothing in this situation.

  She finally cooked some food to eat and drank some coffee. Eating took her mind off the matter for a moment and she picked her meal into small pieces. This situation was a doozy… What were they supposed to do with it?

  Listlessly, she flopped down on the couch and stared out. She wondered if she still had a job. Judging by Chloe’s utter disdain this morning, it seemed doubtful, or that she’d want to work there any longer. The thought of not going to the café, however, tugged at her heart. She loved working there. The comradery she shared with the staff and all the customers brightened her day. She loved having a place to go and something to do that was pleasantly demanding and stimulated her brain, keeping her moving and busy all day. She knew Petra didn’t love her job, but Tara did. She adored it and had no thoughts or desires to work anywhere else. She loved Chloe too and that really tore her up. Knowing the pain Chloe was in, and because of the circumstances, now she would be the last person Chloe would want to see or talk to or be around.

  Ryder’s truck pulled in at last, but it was evening by then. She gritted her teeth and fisted her hands, trying to keep her thoughts inside without shouting at him. He mounted the steps with Wyatt right behind him. She consciously let out a long breath of air. She had to hold in her annoyance. Wyatt was there and didn’t deserve to witness her petty grievances after being forgotten and abandoned all day at his house. It really was kind of a big deal. Who forgot their girlfriend? Their lover? Or any person who was still present in their house?

  They walked in together and Wyatt was right in the middle of another running monologue. Tara heard the tail end of it, which had to do with his morning schoolwork. Ryder stopped dead after he walked in and found her standing there beside the couch. He closed his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

  Dear God, he had forgotten her. She had hoped and clung, perhaps for too long, to the idea that he wanted her there for him whenever he returned from wherever he went. Or perhaps he was too embarrassed to excuse himself and speak to her with his ex’s parents grieving in his house. All of that might have been the case; but in the end, Ryder had simply forgotten about her.

  Wyatt passed him, no doubt clueless of the tension between them. He greeted Tara with a hug and a grin as he wandered off towards the back of the house. She swung her gaze back to Ryder. Her tongue felt thick and she wanted to tell him how angry she was. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to be the Tara he helped her become during the last few months. A woman who was not afraid to speak up for herself. And especially with him. But now? She felt as if she were balanced on a precarious tightrope. She had no idea where her next step was.

  “You forgot I was upstairs,” she finally stated.

  He walked forward, sighing and running his hand through his hair. “I… We went to make funeral arrangements… for Ebony. I was not in a clear frame of mind.”

  “But you forgot I was here. Upstairs, and out of the way, as your in-laws requested.”

  He sighed and his hands rubbed over his face as if he were scrubbing it. “Look, Tara, I’m sorry. Okay? I just… yeah, I forgot. There’s a lot on my mind right now. A lot going on. Her parents are… utterly destroyed. Imagine how they feel. It’s so hard for them.”

  And for me, Tara thought, but she knew how selfish it sounded so she bit down on her lip to avoid saying it.

  “Can you just take me home?”

  He nodded. His tone was dull as he swung around while calling, “Wyatt. Come on, let’s take Tara home now.”

  Wyatt came bounding down. “Okay.” He ran out first and Tara followed. She was seething.

  The ride to Tara’s house was silent. Ryder pulled in and then did nothing, making no indication he would walk her to the front door. He always walked her to the front door. No matter how late at night or early in the morning. She stared at him, her mouth twisting up. He didn’t turn towards her or even spare her a glance. He just gazed out at the front of Mrs. Huskin’s house as if Tara were already gone. Her heart shrunk before it sank heavily into her stomach. He’d withdrawn from her completely. Without a word. Or a warning. Without even a chance for her to argue with him or try to understand. She kind of did understand. He really had loved his wife and now he could again because she was murdered, and not a runaway mom. Having a girlfriend didn’t fit into that. Tears immediately filled Tara’s eyes and the lump in her throat felt as if it would suffocate her. She grabbed the door handle and her voice trembled as she glanced back. “Bye, Wyatt.”

  “Bye-bye, Tara. See you tomorrow,” Wyatt replied, as cheerful as always.

  Her heart split in two. Ryder didn’t even glance at her. She simply opened the door, slid out, slammed the door, and stepped back from his truck. Without a glance her way, R
yder rested his arm over the seat she just vacated, and stared over his shoulder before backing down the driveway. Once he hit the road, he straightened out and sped off. He didn’t even wait to see her go inside. Something, again, that he always did.

  Her heart was heavy with confusion and sadness as she entered her apartment. However, it was no longer what she wanted anymore. Alone and sad, she curled up in the cold, soulless space and cried. For herself. For Ebony. For Ryder. And for what could have been.

  Chapter Fourteen

  UNCLEAR OF WHAT TO do with herself now, Tara simply showed up the next morning at work. Her sigh of relief was almost exaggerated when she saw Chloe wasn’t in. She was taking time off and Petra was filling in as manager. Something that obviously pleased Petra. She wore different clothes instead of the usual uniform and attacked the job as if a corporate sponsor were watching, intending to replace Chloe with her permanently. Tara hated to inform Petra there was no such chance. There was only one manager and Chloe was it, as well as being the owner. Still, Tara was eternally grateful to be there and she got busy. Back in a routine that she cherished and with the usual customers that she counted on interacting with daily, she wondered now how she survived so long on the streets. She thrived in a community where she could interact and matter to people. She could not bear to imagine going back to a time when she did not matter to anyone. She liked belonging to something bigger than herself.

  Gruesome as it was to contemplate, two years ago, if Tara were murdered and had her body dumped somewhere, no one would have ever known she was missing or even cared. She’d have been a faceless, homeless, sad runaway and some official like Ryder would shake his head over how tragic it all was. And now? All of these people would surely care. They knew her. And they would notice her absence. Of course they would comment on it and she believed they would truly care.

  She was terrified she’d show up at the café and discover Chloe had fired her. But there was nothing. Not a word was said. Tiana, Petra, Chet, and Dok simply spoke in subdued, serious tones, asking, “How is Chloe doing? And, of course, Ryder?” Tara answered as if she had some authority, although she had none. Every customer, except for a trucker who was passing through town, asked her the same thing. It was the only topic of conversation. She understood why. It was sickening and shocking and had happened right there. Nothing like that had ever happened in the town before, let alone to one of their own citizens. Tara saw many tears from multiple patrons. She learned all about Ebony from them. She met Ebony’s fourth grade teacher, her Girl Scout leader, and her partner in yoga. All day long, the people connected to Ebony in some way came in as if unofficially celebrating and honoring Ebony. Tara was awed and touched by what she saw. Inside, however, sometimes it made her seethe with selfishness over what it was costing her.

  Wyatt didn’t come into the café after school. Tara preferred not to ask anyone what they knew because it would suggest that she didn’t know. So she acted as if it weren’t any surprise. But her heart was heavy with grief during the next few days. Petra was the one who told her when and where the funeral was going to be held: the upcoming Saturday at two o’clock in the community church. It was a quaint building, white-washed with an old-fashioned bell tower on the roof. The river was visible off in the distance.

  Tara wondered what should she do? Petra planned to close the café from one o’clock on so Tara wasn’t working. The staff would all be attending the funeral, of course, for the woman they worked for. The family that still owned the business and the people that frequented it were all going to be there.

  How could Tara not go? She was supposed to be dating Ryder and worked in what was essentially his café. It was common decency that she attend. But how could she? What if Chloe and her parents saw it as a slap in the face? Would Ryder see it that way too? What if he simply asked her to leave? But then again, how could she not show up without any reason? She couldn’t. Not if she planned to stay in this town. Which she did. Even now. No matter what happened with Ryder and even with Chloe. If Chloe fired her, Tara intended to find work somewhere else. She’d gotten to know a lot of people who lived around there and had already proven herself a reliable, hardworking, obedient, and loyal employee. She’d easily find another job. Having the confidence to believe in herself and knowing she would succeed was a totally new phenomenon. But she fully intended to stay there. She wanted to be there. It was the first home she’d ever had and nothing could drive her away from it. She lifted her chest and straightened her spine. No. She wasn’t running away again. Not now. Not from here. And no one else could push her out either.

  On the day of the funeral, Tara showered and slipped on a black skirt that skimmed her knees. She wore a black tank top with a black blazer over it. Spending her precious tip money on the solemn, dark outfit, she realized she had nothing for her feet besides her tennis shoes. She found a pair of black flats that were used and slightly worn at a thrift store. Slipping her hair into a tight knot at the nape of her neck, she slicked back the stray strands and prepared to leave. Her face was free of any makeup except for mascara, although she had a hard time convincing herself to go. There was nothing about her appearance that would draw attention to her. She did not want the proceedings to involve her. She looked completely appropriate, yet still, her stomach roiled in butterflies and she could not eat anything.

  She rode the bus and walked a half mile to the church’s location. Carefully mapping her route the day before, as well as the time she had to leave at, Tara clutched the small, black purse that contained her bare essentials.

  She waited for the service to start, planning to slip in the back door ten minutes late and slide into the furthest corner. She hoped to be as far from anyone else as she could be with everyone’s back to her. There was one man sitting in the aisle seat. He didn’t even look towards her as she sat down. Tara lifted her eyes towards the front of the church. It was more of a memorial than a formal funeral. There was no body to view, thankfully. It hadn’t been released from the medical examiner’s office yet. Although Ebony’s identity was duly confirmed, there was still an ongoing investigation.

  Flowers were arranged in huge, colossal wreaths and vases that filled the altar. No expense had been spared. There was soft piano music before the pastor stood up and started to quote eloquent biblical passages while adding his own embellishment. He talked about Ebony’s life and short timeline. Songs were sung. Poems were read. A slideshow of her life was set to music, beginning when she was very young. So many shots of her were with Chloe. Two beautiful girls, who were impossible to tell apart. Sitting in the bath, all round and chubby at age two. Wearing matching dresses and pigtails on the first day of kindergarten, and smiling on their fifth grade graduation. The girls at band concerts and on camping trips, and plenty of holidays interspersed. Family pictures taken with Adaline and Kylar. When Ryder appeared, Tara sat up and looked closer. He seemed so young.

  They met at college, which surprised Tara. She had never asked. She suddenly realized she never really inquired about their relationship and how they came to be. After attending community college together, Ryder stopped his education, but Ebony went on to graduate from Portland State University. There was a picture of her in her cap and gown with her family and Ryder, all smiling as they gathered around her. When the music changed to a love song, Tara didn’t doubt it must have meant something special to Ryder and Ebony. Was it a song from their first date? The first dance at their wedding? She saw some pictures of their wedding. She held her breath when she saw how handsome Ryder was. Dressed in a formal tux beside Ebony, who was a true vision. Divine. Breathtaking and gracious in her ivory gown of lace and pearls.

  Then, Ebony was pregnant. Ryder was hugging her, patting her stomach, and later on, in the hospital. Ryder was holding up Baby Wyatt, and grinning as brightly as the sun’s rays after a storm. He was gazing down at Ebony and Wyatt and Tara saw so much love shining out of Ebony’s face that she squirmed, becoming almost uncomfortable by it.

>   Many more family photos were shown until Wyatt was eighteen months. Then… it abruptly ended. That was when she was unceremoniously dumped into a swamp.

  Tears flowed all around Tara. She could only glimpse Adaline briefly through the thick crowd. Her head was bent over and her shoulders shook. Kylar’s arm was on her shoulders and he pulled her close to him. Chloe’s head was bowed. Her tears made her entire body shake.

  And then she saw Ryder.

  Tara’s heart thumped in her chest. Oh, God. His face was so distraught and pale. His eyes were rimmed with red and bags were outlined beneath them. His lips were pressed together in a line and he had one hand against the side of his temple. It was something he often did when he had a headache brewing. Tara covered her mouth and stifled a moan. He was so obviously in pain that it broke her heart just watching him. Her anger at his abrupt withdrawal from her simply evaporated when she witnessed his pain.

  Beside him was Wyatt. Tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away. The tiny, little boy looked so frail and handsome… and confused. His gaze was fastened on his dad. His eyebrows furrowed as he snuck a glance over at his grandparents. Both sides of his family were represented. Ryder’s parents sat on the opposite side. Ryder’s mom rested her hand on Ryder’s shoulder. Tara saw love, and so much of it, surrounding them.

  Other people spoke. Friends. Family. Chloe. Oh, yes, Chloe. It was impossible to keep a dry eye after listening to Chloe speak about her twin sister. Their love and friendship and irreplaceable loss.

  Eventually, Ryder stood up and spoke. The entire church went silent. He took the small podium and leaned into the microphone. “My name is Ryder, and Ebony was my… wife.” His voice cracked saying the word. He had to pause momentarily and a shuddered breath emerged from him. Then he shook his head and stood up straighter before he started to speak. Tara learned more about their history. They met in their first quarter of college during history class. She was working on an associate’s degree to ultimately transfer to a university and earn a business degree. Her end goal, however, was to manage a restaurant. Chloe worked in the kitchen and Ebony took care of the business. Ryder was getting his two-year degree in criminal justice and planned to become a game warden. He moved to Portland and later to Silver Springs to live with her.