All in One Place Read Free Page B

my backpack, please.”
    “Claim it at the front desk.”
    Leslie was about to follow me, but Jack beckoned her over with a lift of his finger. “I need to talk to you a minute, Leslie.”
    She glanced at me as if she wasn't sure she should leave me unsupervised.
    “I'll just wait outside then,” I said, annoyed at how easily he'd dragged my sister's attention away from me.
    The woman at the front desk handed me my backpack with the contents neatly packaged in what I guessed was an evidence bag.
Nice souvenir,
I thought as I dumped the whole bag into my backpack, which I heaved over my shoulder.
    The door of the cop shop drifted shut behind me with a pneumatic wheeze. A fly buzzed lazily past my head. A couple of cars
     sighed past. Across the street an elderly couple shuffled out of the diner, and I heard the thin, reedy voice of the woman
     complaining about the slow service.
    Leslie was still occupied. She and Jack had stepped outside and were frowning, intent on their conversation.
    Finally, Leslie nodded a couple of times as if agreeing with what Jack said, and then, thank goodness, we were finally alone.
    “You look good,” I said quietly, reminding myself that I needed to go slow, make gentle overtures.
    The last time I saw her, her face was pale and drawn in spite of the makeup she'd troweled on. Now her short hair framed a
     naturally tanned face. No makeup. Plump cheeks.
    I caught a hint of vulnerability on her face. Her eyes held a brightness that could have been good health or the beginning
     of tears.
    “Terra, why did you… Why didn't you…” As her hurt-edged words tumbled between us, I caught a note of haunted pain.
    We made tentative steps, and then our arms were wound around each other, shutting out the street, the curious passersby, and
     the rest of the world.
    She smelled like fresh air and clean clothes and home. And for the first time since I left the hospital, the knot inside me
     loosened. Just a bit.
    “I missed you,” she whispered, squeezing me hard. Then I heard a telltale sniff in my ear. “I missed you so much.”
    An answering sob trembled deep within me, and for a moment, I wanted to release it. To let her hold me up. But I didn't have
     a right to her support.
    “Hey, what's with the tears?” I drew away with a light laugh, trying to shift the emotional atmosphere back to ordinary. Back
     to the Terra she knew and had put up with over the years.
    Leslie gave me a shaky smile and swiped at a lone tear tracking down her cheeks. “Just being sentimental, that's all.”
    “Can we go?” I said.
    “My car is parked around the corner,” Leslie said as she dug through her oversized purse.
    As we rounded the corner, I spied a familiar little Honda. “You're still driving that old grocery-getter?”
    “Don't laugh. It's paid for,” Leslie said, sniffing again. “I notice you didn't exactly sail into town in a Jag.”
    “Actually, it was a Malibu.”
    Leslie frowned and I held up my thumb.
    This netted me another sigh. “I thought you had a car.”
    “Emphasis on
had.
I sold the car when I moved to Seattle.”
    Leslie walked over to the car and I waited for her to unlock my door.
    “It's not locked,” her muffled voice called out. “Harland is not a high crime area. Especially this close to the sheriff's
     office.”
    I caught a hint of anger on the last two words. “I'm sorry you had to pick me up here and about that whole bar thing. Some
     guy was hitting on me. It wasn't my fault.”
    Leslie fiddled with the ring of keys in her hand. “Is it ever?”
    I read disbelief mixed with shame in her expression.
    “Were you busy when the sheriff called?”
    “I was entertaining Wilma's cousins from Holland. They wanted to stay on the farm. Neither Judy nor Wilma has the room, and
     Gloria's dealing with her own crisis, so I have them for a few days.”
    “To sleep?”
    “Not many hotels where we live.” She clamped her lips down, and I guessed “picking sister up from