Broken Glass (The Mirror Sisters 2) - Page 46

“I know,” I said in my little-girl voice. “Mrs. Lofter explained it all, but it still hurts.”

“Stay strong, Haylee. We’ve all got to stay strong.”

“I’m trying.”

“Good. I spoke with Lieutenant Cowan a little while ago.”

“And?”

“They found someone who lives on that street where another witness thought he might have seen your sister. She’s an elderly woman but apparently quite healthy, alert. She gave them a description of a white van that she says she’d never seen parked there. It’s not much, but it’s something. They’re showing her pictures of vans to see if they can isolate the make, model, and perhaps year. They’re really trying.”

“I hope so,” I said.

“Anyway, I thought I’d stop at the Lotus House on the way home and pick up some Chinese food for us. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t even remember if I ate any lunch.”

“Hang in there, sweetheart,” he said. I loved hearing him say that only to me. “You might be the strongest of all of us.”

“I’ll try,” I said. He didn’t know it, but I had always believed that I was.

After we hung up, the phone rang again. It was Mrs. Letterman, one of Mother’s hens, as I called them. I didn’t give her a chance to hide behind any empty expressions of hope. I went on and on about how difficult it was for the police and how we had to have the psychiatric nur

se for Mother, who was on the brink of a terrible nervous breakdown.

“We have to keep her sedated,” I said, as if I was as much in charge as anyone. “For her own good. I’m so frightened for her.”

“Oh, dear, dear. You always think things like this happen to someone else.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I think I’m going to throw up, Mrs. Letterman. Thanks for calling,” I said, and hung up before she could utter another word.

The phone rang again, but this time, I let it go to voice mail and went upstairs instead. I was surprised at how mentally exhausted I was. Moving from one emotion to another quickly, however cleverly I was doing it, put more of a strain on me than I had anticipated. I looked forward to when this would all be over, when they’d find Kaylee, or she’d escape and come home, or when it would be clear she never would. But I was always impatient, so it didn’t astonish me that I had this attitude. Ironically, it was my sister who always kept me centered. I wished I had that part of her here.

As I lay on my bed, I wondered if after everything, even now, I would discover that I really did miss her. What if, years from now, I did just what Mrs. Lofter feared Mother would do, losing my mental defenses and then suffering regret and remorse? Could I have a nervous breakdown, too?

I laughed, imagining it. Maybe Mrs. Lofter would be called in to help with me. Too much thinking, I told myself, and I rose and went to Kaylee’s room. The detectives had asked me to do this, hadn’t they? I reasoned, and went directly to her dresser. She always kept her things neater than I did, something that annoyed Mother more than me, of course. I reached into the drawers and began tossing out her panties and bras, her socks and scarves, just flinging them willy-nilly onto her bed until all the drawers were emptied. What do you know? I thought. I didn’t find anything that might help the police.

I went to her closet and ripped everything off the hangers, turning pockets in coats and jeans inside out, flinging it all onto the floor. I even turned shoes and sneakers upside down in case a secret note had been placed inside one. When I was done with that, I attacked her vanity table, emptying the drawers onto the floor. I dumped out the contents of her jewelry box and then tore off her comforter and pulled up the sheets, bundling everything at the foot of the bed. I stripped the pillows, too. Exhausted, I plopped down among all the clothes and stuff.

That was where I was when Daddy came home and came looking for me. He stood in the doorway, astounded. “What . . . what’s going on in here?”

“The detectives asked me to go through her things to look for a clue!” I cried. “I got frantic and frustrated. Sorry, Daddy.” I shook my head and shouted, “I didn’t find anything! She didn’t leave a single clue!”

When I began to sob, my shoulders shaking, Daddy rushed in and lifted me off the floor as if I was a little baby. He kissed my cheeks and held me tightly as he carried me out and back to my room.

Mrs. Lofter, hearing all the commotion, came running up the stairs.

“The police asked her to search her sister’s room for some sort of clue,” Daddy told her. I had my face buried against his chest. “She didn’t find anything that would help us. Her heart is broken.”

“Oh, dear me,” Mrs. Lofter said. “Perhaps I was a bit too hard on her today. I’m sorry.”

Neither of them could see me smile, and even if they could, they wouldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a sobbing face.

12

Kaylee

His arms were loaded with tools when he came into the house, but I thought he might have to make more than one trip. If he did, I hoped he would drop these things off at the door and head back out before going down and discovering that I wasn’t there. That would give me a better chance to sneak away and a better head start after he went out again to his tool shed. If I could get down to the road before he returned to the house, I’d have all the time it would take him to carry down the tools and materials, see I wasn’t there, and come rushing back upstairs. He might waste time searching the house first. I might even be able to reach his closest neighbor.

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Mirror Sisters Suspense
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