“Isn’t it? I’m the one who talked to Earl, not you. I’m the one who reviewed every step of the highway patrol’s investigation. I’m telling you, there’s no physical evidence linking Otis to the crime.”
“I’ll find the evidence-”
“No, you won’t!” Charlie shot back. “That’s just the thing! You won’t find anything because you’re out of this!”
Miles said nothing, and after a long moment, Charlie put his hand on Miles’s shoulder.
“Look, we’re still looking into this-you’ve got my word on that.” He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know… maybe we’ll find something. And if we do, I’ll be the first one to come and tell you that I was wrong and that Otis will get what’s coming to him. Okay?”
Miles’s jaw clenched involuntarily as Charlie waited for a response. Finally, sensing that none was coming, Charlie went on.
“I know how hard this is-”
With that, Miles shrugged off Charlie’s hand and stared at him. His eyes flashed.
“No, you don’t,” Miles snapped, “and you never will, Charlie. Brenda’s still around, remember? You still wake up in the same bed, you can call her anytime you want. No one ran her down in cold blood, no one got away with it for years. And mark my words, Charlie, no one’s gonna get away with it now.” Despite Miles’s words, Charlie left ten minutes later with the file and the guns. Neither man said another word.
There was no need for that. Charlie was doing his job.
Once she was alone, Sarah sat in the living room, numb to everything around her. She hadn’t moved from the couch even after she’d stopped crying, feeling somehow that the slightest movement would shatter her tenuous composure. Nothing made sense.
She didn’t have the energy to separate her emotions; instead they were jumbled together, indistinguishable. Like an overloaded outlet, she felt as if a breaker had tripped inside her, leaving her incapable of any action. How on earth had this happened? Not Brian’s accident-she could understand that, at least on the surface. It was terrible, and what he had done afterward was wrong, no matter how she looked at it. But it was an accident. She knew that. Brian couldn’t have avoided it, any more than she would have been able to avoid it.
And in the blink of an eye, Missy Ryan had died.
Missy Ryan.
Jonah’s mother.
Miles’s wife.
That’s what didn’t make any sense.
Why had Brian hither?
And why, of all the people in the world, had it been Miles who later came into her life? It was almost impossible to believe, and as she sat on the couch, she couldn’t reconcile everything she’d just learned-her horror at Brian’s confession and the obvious guilt he was suffering… her anger and revulsion at the fact that he’d hidden the truth, set against the implacable knowledge that she would always love her brother…
And Miles…
Oh God…Miles…
What was she supposed to do now? Call him with what she knew? Or wait a little until she composed herself and figured out exactly what to say? The way Brian had waited?
Oh, God…
What would happen to Brian?
He would go to jail…
She felt ill.
Yes, that’s what he deserved, even if he was her brother. He broke the law and should pay for his crime.
Or should he? He was her little brother, just a kid when it happened, and it hadn’t been his fault.
She shook her head, suddenly wishing Brian hadn’t told her. Yet in her heart, she knew why he had told her. For two years, Miles had paid the price of his silence.
And now, Otis was going to pay.
She inhaled deeply, bringing her fingers to her temples.
No, Miles wouldn’t go that far. Would he?
Maybe not now, but it would eat away at him as long as he believed Otis was guilty, and one day he might-
She shook her head, not wanting to think about that.
Still, she didn’t know what to do.
Nor had any answers come to her a few minutes later, when Miles showed up at her door.
“Hi,” Miles said simply.
Sarah stared at him as if in shock, unable to move her hand from the doorknob.
She felt herself tense, her thoughts veering in opposite directions.
Tell him now, just get it over with…
Wait until you’ve figured out what to say first…
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh… yeah… um…,” she stammered. “Come in.” She stepped back, and Miles closed the door behind him. He hesitated for a moment before heading toward the window, where he pulled the curtains and scanned the road; then he made a circuit of the living room, obviously distracted. Stopping at the mantel, he absently adjusted a picture of Sarah and her family, angling it so it faced the living room. Sarah stood in the center of the room without moving. The whole thing felt surreal. All she could think as she watched him was that she knew who’d killed his wife. “Charlie came by this morning,” he said suddenly, and the sound of his voice brought her back. “He took the file I had on Missy.”
“I’m sorry.”
It sounded ridiculous, but it was the first and only thing that came to mind.
Miles didn’t seem to notice.
“He also told me that he’d have me arrested if I so much as look at Otis Timson.”
This time, Sarah didn’t respond. He’d come to vent; the defensive posture he held made that clear. Miles turned toward her.
“Can you believe that? All I did was arrest the guy who killed my wife and this is what happens.”
It took all the control she could summon to keep her composure.
“I’m sorry,” she said for the second time.
“So am I.” He shook his head. “I can’t look for Sims, I can’t look for evidence, I can’t do anything. I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for Charlie to handle everything.”
She cleared her throat, struggling for a way out. “Well… don’t you think that might be a good idea? For a little while, I mean?” she offered. “No, not really. Christ, I’m the only one who kept looking after the initial investigation dried up. I know more about this case than anyone.” No, Miles, you don’t.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll listen to Charlie, though, won’t you?”
Miles looked away, refusing to answer, and Sarah felt something drop in her stomach.
“Listen, Miles,” she said, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think Charlie’s right. Let other people handle Otis.”
“Why? So they can screw it up a second time?”
“They didn’t screw it up.”
His eyes flashed. “No? Then why is Otis still walking around? Why was it up to me to find the people who fingered him? Why didn’t they look harder for any evidence back then?”
“Maybe there wasn’t any,” she answered quietly.
“Why do you keep playing devil’s advocate about this?” he demanded. “You did the same damn thing yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you did. You didn’t listen to anything I said.”
“I didn’t want you to do anything-”
He held up his hands. “Yeah-I know. You and Charlie both. Neither one of you seems to realize what the hell is going on here.”
“Of course I do,” she said, trying to hide the tension in her voice. “You think Otis did it and you want revenge. But what happens if you find out later that Sims and Earl were wrong somehow?”
“Wrong?”
“With what they heard, I mean…”
“You think they’re lying about this? Both of them?”
“No. I’m just saying that maybe they heard it wrong. Maybe Otis said it, but he didn’t mean it. Maybe he didn’t do it.”
For a moment, Miles was too thunderstruck to speak. Sarah pressed on, talking over the lump in her throat.
“I mean, what if you find out that Otis is innocent? I know you two don’t get along-” “Don’t get along?” he said, cutting her off. He stared hard at her before taking a step toward her. “What the hell are you talking about? He killed my wife, Sarah.”