Stone spoke before he thought. “You’re wrong. I know she used to feel responsible for you, but you were never a burden.”
Jessica was stunned. “But I’m a grown woman. I’m responsible for myself,” she muttered.
“Maybe you are now,” Stone said quietly. “But when your parents died, you were what…seventeen?”
Sudden tears burned Jessica’s eyes. “Just about,” she said softly.
“Well, then, did you ever think that it might be difficult for her to change how she thinks a big sister should act?”
Jessica was speechless.
“Jessica?”
She sniffed. “What?”
“As soon as I know something final, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” she said, and hung up the phone.
The quiet in her house seemed threatening. With a shaky sob, she rolled herself into a ball and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. She would call Brenda, but later, when she would be able to talk without crying.
* * *
Jessica was on her knees in the dirt, pulling weeds from her flower bed when a car pulled into her driveway. She braced herself on one knee and turned to see Brenda getting out of the car. From the way she was dressed, she must have come straight from work. But it wasn’t what Brenda was wearing that concerned Jessica the most. It was the expression on her face. In that moment, Jessica thought, She knows about the autopsy.
Jessica stood, and then pulled off her gloves and tossed them on the front porch step. Waving a hello, she tried hard to smile, but her chin quivered instead. Moments later, she was in Brenda’s arms.
“Oh, honey.” It was all Brenda could think to say.
“Stone called you, didn’t he?”
Brenda stepped back and cupped her little sister’s face with her hands.
“Yes, thank goodness, but it should have been you. Why didn’t you tell me, Jessie? I shouldn’t have had to hear this from him.”
Jessica led her up the steps to the porch swing. “Want something to drink?” she asked as Brenda plopped down in the swing.
Brenda caught her by the hand and pulled her down beside her in the seat.
“I want you to talk to me.”
Jessica sat down in a slump, staring at a swirl in the wood beneath her feet.
“I already told you what I saw. You didn’t believe me then, why believe me now?”
Guilt fell hard on Brenda Hanson’s shoulders as she looked at her baby sister’s face. The gamine features. The ragamuffin hair. That smudge of dirt on the side of her face. Mentally, she knew Jessie was a grown woman, but in her heart, she would forever see her sister as younger, and weaker, and waiting for someone to carry her over the rough spots in the road.
“Be reasonable, Jessie. Would you have believed me if the situation had been reversed?”
Jessica sighed, then looked up, grinning an apology. “Probably not.”
“Then, am I forgiven?”
Jessica threw her arms around her sister’s neck. “Of course, and I’m really glad you’re here.”
Brenda returned the hug. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out to dinner.”
Instinctively, Jessica’s hand went to her hair. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty tired. Maybe we could just—”
Brenda grinned. “Stuff the excuses, baby sister, and quit worrying about your hair. You know…in an odd, disheveled sort of manner, it suits you.”
Jessica made a face and got up. “Where are you taking me?”
“You get to pick,” Brenda said.
“Oh, good. I’ve been hungry for Mexican food for days.”
Brenda rolled her eyes. “Just what I need! You know I can’t resist that stuff, and those cheese enchiladas go straight to my thighs.”
“You can diet tomorrow,” Jessica said, and headed for the house. “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”
Brenda followed her inside, thankful that their relationship was back on level ground.
* * *
The autopsy report was in a folder near Stone’s left hand. The conference he and Jack Stryker had just had with the chief was still ringing in his ears. He’d already read the report. Not once, but twice. And even though he’d more or less prepared himself for the positive results, what Noah Howell told him had stunned him.
Potassium. Olivia Stuart had been murdered with potassium. Enough to induce immediate cardiac arrest. They were guessing at least forty milliliters. And tracing it was going to be next to impossible, because it wasn’t a controlled drug. Hospitals didn’t even keep the stuff under lock and key.
He kept staring at the folder, knowing he was going to have to give Jessie a call. This changed everything. He could no longer ignore the truth. Olivia Stuart had been murdered. And, as of fifteen minutes ago, there was an official investigation under way.
Stone looked up as Stryker came out of the washroom, drying his hands. He glanced at Chang, who was on the phone at a nearby desk. Stryker had all the facts as Stone knew them, but Chang was a wild card in this mess. Jessie had talked to him first. Stone had to make sure that there had been no inadvertent leaks to the media about Jessica Hanson’s so-called powers. He waited until Chang hung up, and then walked over to his desk and tossed the folder containing the autopsy report in front of him.
When the folder landed between his hands, Chang looked up, startled by the abrupt interruption to his work.
“What’s the big deal?” he asked.
Stone pointed. “See for yourself.”
Chang opened the folder and started to read. Halfway down the page, he stiffened. When he had finished, he handed the file back to Stone.
“Son of a gun! Who would have thought?” And then an odd, startled expression crossed his face.
Stone tensed. Chang had remembered.
“I want you to keep quiet about what you know,” Stone said.
Chang stood up. “She was right, wasn’t she? But how could that be? How did she—?”
“I don’t know,” Stone said. “And for that matter, neither does she. However, the fact remains that a woman was murdered, and, for all intents and purposes, Jessica Hanson is a witness.” He lowered his voice. “Which means…we keep quiet about how we found out. What matters now is finding out who did it—and why.”
Chang shook his head. “I just didn’t believe her. It was such a far-fetched—”
Stone interrupted. “Stryker and I have the case. I’d appreciate it if, for the time being, you forget everything Jessica Hanson told you. The less said about what’s happened, the better. We’ve already lost our mayor. We don’t need to put any more people in unnecessary danger, right?”
Chang kept shaking his head as he dropped back in his chair. “I can’t believe it. Who would have thought?” And then he slapped the side of his head and groaned. “Oh, man!”
“What’s wrong?” Stone asked.
“This morning, I was at the doughnut shop, and Canfield and I were talking about all the weird things that have been happening since the storm.”
Stone braced himself. Already, he knew what Chang was going to say. “Damn it, Erik. Tell me you didn’t blab it all over the place.”