Broken (Will Trent 4)

And what about the dead girl? Sara was as bad as Hare. She had completely ignored Allison Spooner, treating her death as yet another springboard for attacking Lena. People around town who knew Allison were starting to talk. Tessa had been on the phone most of the afternoon and had the whole story for Sara by the time she got back from downtown. Allison was petite and cheery, the sort of girl with good country manners and a bright smile for strangers. She had worked at the diner during lunch and over the weekends. She must have a family somewhere, a mother and father who had just gotten the worst news a parent could ever hear. Surely they were on their way to Grant County right now, heavy hearts sinking further with every mile.

There were footsteps on the stairs behind her—Cathy, judging by the light tread. Sara heard her mother pause on the landing, then head toward the kitchen.

Sara let out a breath of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Sweetpea?” Eddie called from upstairs. He was listening to his old records, something he did when he was feeling melancholy.

“I’m all right, Daddy.” She waited for the squeaking floorboards to signal he was going back to his room. They took an awful long time.

She closed her eyes again. Her father put on some Bruce Springsteen, the needle skipping on the vinyl record as he found the right place. She could hear her mother moving around the kitchen. Plates and pans banged. Hare said something that must have been funny, because Tessa’s laugh rang through the house.

Sara stared out at the street, rubbing her arms to fight the chill that had come over her. This was silly, she knew, to stand at the door waiting for a man who might not even come. As much as Sara did not want to admit it, she wanted more than information from Will. He was from her Atlanta life. He was a reminder that there was something else waiting for her.

And thank God he was finally here.

For the second time that day, Sara watched Will hide the various electronics in his Porsche. It seemed to take longer this time, or maybe she was more impatient. Finally, he got out of the car. He held the file she had given him over his head to shield himself from the rain as he ran up the driveway.

She started to open the door, then reconsidered. She didn’t want him to think she’d been standing here waiting for him. Then again, if she was trying to be covert, she probably shouldn’t have been staring at him through the window.

“Idiot,” she muttered, opening the door.

“Hi.” He shook the rain out of his hair, taking advantage of the cover of the front porch.

“You want me to—” She reached for the wet file in his hand. Sara suppressed a groan of disappointment. It was soaked through. Everything would be ruined.

“Here,” he said, lifting his sweater, untucking his undershirt. Sara saw the pages she’d given him pressed against his bare skin. She also saw what looked like a dark bruise fanning across his abdomen, disappearing into the waist of his jeans.

“What—”

He quickly pulled down his shirt. “Thanks.” He scratched his face, a nervous habit she had forgotten about. “I think we can just throw the folder away.”

She nodded, not knowing what to say. Will seemed at a loss for words, too. They stared at each other until the hall light snapped on.

Cathy stood in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips. Eddie came down the stairs. There was a brief moment of the most uncomfortable silence Sara had ever experienced in her life. She felt for the first time what a monumental mess she had made of the day. If she could’ve clicked her heels and gone back to the beginning, she would still be in Atlanta and her family would have been spared this awful situation. She wanted to melt into the floor.

The silence broke with her father. He held out his hand to Will. “Eddie Linton. Glad we can give you respite from this rain.”

“Will Trent.” Will gave him a firm handshake.

“I’m Cathy,” her mother chimed in, patting Will on the arm. “Goodness, you’re soaked through. Eddie, why don’t you see if you can find him something dry?” For some reason, her father chuckled to himself as he ran up the stairs. Cathy told Will, “Let’s get this sweater off before you catch a chill.”

Will looked as uncomfortable as any man would look if an overly polite sixty-three-year-old woman told him to undress in her foyer. Still, he complied, lifting his sweater over his head. He was wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt underneath. It started to ride up when he lifted his arms and Sara reached out without thinking, holding down the shirt.

Cathy gave her a sharp look that made Sara feel like she’d been caught stealing.

“Mama,” Sara began, feeling a cold sweat coming on. “I really need to talk to you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time later, sweetheart.” Cathy looped her hand through Will’s arm as she led him down the hall. “You’re from Atlanta, my daughter tells me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What part? I have a sister who lives in Buckhead.”

“Uh …” He glanced back at Sara. “Poncey-Highlands, it’s near—”

“I know exactly where that is. You must live close to Sara.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mother—”

“Later, honey.” Cathy shot her a cat’s smile as she took Will into the dining room. “This is Tessa, my youngest. Hareton Earnshaw is my brother’s boy.”

Hare gave him a look of open appraisal. “My, you’re a tall drink of water.”

“Just ignore him,” Tessa advised as she shook Will’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Will started to sit in the closest chair, and Sara felt her heart drop in panic. Jeffrey’s place.

Cathy was not completely devoid of a soul. “Let’s put you at the head of the table,” she suggested, tugging Will gently in the right direction. “I’ll be right back with your dinner.”

Sara sank down beside Will. She put her hand on his arm. “I am so sorry.”

He feigned surprise. “About what?”

“Thank you for pretending, but we don’t have much time before—” Sara jerked her hand away. Her mother was already back with a plate of food.

“I hope you like fried chicken.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Will stared down at the full plate. There was enough food for half the town.

“Sweet tea?” Cathy asked. Sara started to stand, but her mother nodded toward Tessa to fetch a glass. “Tell me how you know my daughter.”

Will held up his finger for a minute so that he could swallow a mouthful of butterbeans. “I met Dr. Linton at the hospital.”

Sara could have kissed him for his odd adherence to formality. She explained, “Mama, Agent Trent’s partner was a patient of mine.”

“Is that right?”

Will nodded, taking a healthy bite of fried chicken. Sara couldn’t tell if he was hungry or just desperate to have a reason not to speak. She chanced a look at Hare. For once in his miserable life, he was choosing to be silent.

“Is your wife in law enforcement, too?”

Will stopped chewing.

“I noticed your ring.”

He looked down at his hand. Cathy kept him trained in her sights. He chewed some more. Finally, he answered, “She’s a private investigator.”