Miller,” he said, opening a thin, black leather case he’d pulled from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, “I’m Special Agent Brent Durant, from the Oklahoma City field office. I’m sorry to bother you at such a difficult time, but—”
“It wasn’t her,” Lauren blurted, shivering in the draft and barely glancing at the badge and ID. Or wondering what a federal agent from Oklahoma City would be doing more than two hundred miles from his home turf. “That’s why you’re here, right? Because the Austin police messed up?”
Shaking his head, he explained, “I’ve been part of a joint task force with members of the Austin PD, so they knew I’d be in this area. The officer working your sister’s case, Detective Cruz Jimenez, asked me to stop by to talk to you about—”
“No,” she argued, desperate to make him see that this was wrong.
Impossible. She had spoken to Rachel only a few days earlier. “My sister’s always inviting people to come and stay with her—an out-of-work friend, a neighbor who’s having trouble with a boyfriend.” With a sister who would rather sit at home with her computers, safe behind her firewall.
The agent pulled off his sunglasses, the compassion in his brown eyes and his silence speaking volumes. Still, Lauren wasn’t having any of it.
“It was someone staying at her place, not her,” she said. “Rachel’s not dead. Sure, she’s been through a lot this past year, with the accident, but she would never—” Her mind spasmed, contracting around the hard knot of what had to be a lie. “She’s only twenty-five. She has her whole life. She—”
Agent Durant tried to look past her into the house. “Is there someone here with you? Someone I could call? Your husband?”
“Not anymore. I’m here on my own.” Soon after she’d driven halfway across the country to deal with her late father’s estate, her husband of four years had informed her that there was no need to come back.
“Have you called anybody yet? Told anyone about your sister?” Concern lined the agent’s expressive face. A handsome face, and one she sensed was younger than the early frost of gray suggested. Still, he looked worn, perhaps burdened by the things he had witnessed on the job.
“It really was a mistake, wasn’t it?” she pleaded. “Don’t worry. I haven’t had the chance to let anybody know yet.”
She’d been holed up in the old, white clapboard farmhouse for months, with only the throwaway dachshund and the winds that continuously scoured the wide North Texas plains to keep her company. As soon as she’d set up the high-speed Internet connection she needed to keep up with her remote net administrator business, she’d offered to buy her sister’s share of the house, saying that the silence suited her.
You can run, but you can’t hide—not from life, Rachel had responded. Believe me, I’ve spent way too long lately trying. How ’bout you come and see me next week—check out Austin. You might like the techie vibe here, some of the people, too. And I wouldn’t mind a roommate for a while if you’re up for it.
“It might be better if we talked inside.” Agent Durant rubbed his arms against the crisp chill, and she noticed the small puffs of steam rising off each word. “Mind if I come in?”
Lauren shushed her growling dog just before a gust drew her attention outdoors, where a flurry of dried leaves rattled against the dark-blue sedan he’d pulled into the driveway. The same cold wind bent over the prairie grasses in the front yard and the field across the street. Though it wasn’t quite nine a.m., the leaden sky was quickly dimming, whispering a promise of snow flurries. Or perhaps a threat.
She stepped back for him to enter.
Once she’d closed the door behind him, she waved him toward her father’s recliner. She hadn’t planned to sit, but the graveness in his eyes had her sinking down to a worn plaid sofa, her soul swamped by the knowledge that he
“It wasn’t her,” Lauren blurted, shivering in the draft and barely glancing at the badge and ID. Or wondering what a federal agent from Oklahoma City would be doing more than two hundred miles from his home turf. “That’s why you’re here, right? Because the Austin police messed up?”
Shaking his head, he explained, “I’ve been part of a joint task force with members of the Austin PD, so they knew I’d be in this area. The officer working your sister’s case, Detective Cruz Jimenez, asked me to stop by to talk to you about—”
“No,” she argued, desperate to make him see that this was wrong.
Impossible. She had spoken to Rachel only a few days earlier. “My sister’s always inviting people to come and stay with her—an out-of-work friend, a neighbor who’s having trouble with a boyfriend.” With a sister who would rather sit at home with her computers, safe behind her firewall.
The agent pulled off his sunglasses, the compassion in his brown eyes and his silence speaking volumes. Still, Lauren wasn’t having any of it.
“It was someone staying at her place, not her,” she said. “Rachel’s not dead. Sure, she’s been through a lot this past year, with the accident, but she would never—” Her mind spasmed, contracting around the hard knot of what had to be a lie. “She’s only twenty-five. She has her whole life. She—”
Agent Durant tried to look past her into the house. “Is there someone here with you? Someone I could call? Your husband?”
“Not anymore. I’m here on my own.” Soon after she’d driven halfway across the country to deal with her late father’s estate, her husband of four years had informed her that there was no need to come back.
“Have you called anybody yet? Told anyone about your sister?” Concern lined the agent’s expressive face. A handsome face, and one she sensed was younger than the early frost of gray suggested. Still, he looked worn, perhaps burdened by the things he had witnessed on the job.
“It really was a mistake, wasn’t it?” she pleaded. “Don’t worry. I haven’t had the chance to let anybody know yet.”
She’d been holed up in the old, white clapboard farmhouse for months, with only the throwaway dachshund and the winds that continuously scoured the wide North Texas plains to keep her company. As soon as she’d set up the high-speed Internet connection she needed to keep up with her remote net administrator business, she’d offered to buy her sister’s share of the house, saying that the silence suited her.
You can run, but you can’t hide—not from life, Rachel had responded. Believe me, I’ve spent way too long lately trying. How ’bout you come and see me next week—check out Austin. You might like the techie vibe here, some of the people, too. And I wouldn’t mind a roommate for a while if you’re up for it.
“It might be better if we talked inside.” Agent Durant rubbed his arms against the crisp chill, and she noticed the small puffs of steam rising off each word. “Mind if I come in?”
Lauren shushed her growling dog just before a gust drew her attention outdoors, where a flurry of dried leaves rattled against the dark-blue sedan he’d pulled into the driveway. The same cold wind bent over the prairie grasses in the front yard and the field across the street. Though it wasn’t quite nine a.m., the leaden sky was quickly dimming, whispering a promise of snow flurries. Or perhaps a threat.
She stepped back for him to enter.
Once she’d closed the door behind him, she waved him toward her father’s recliner. She hadn’t planned to sit, but the graveness in his eyes had her sinking down to a worn plaid sofa, her soul swamped by the knowledge that he
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