had been trying to get to the Interstate via what seemed, according to their GPS, to be a shorter route. An early winter snowstorm had stranded them on a side road, and the father perished when he struck out on foot looking for help.
“The driver was dead,” Wade continued, “And he had a passenger, a woman. She was unconscious when I found her and still hadn’t come to when the ambulance drove off with her.”
“The driver’s wife?”
“No. Looked about your age, which makes her young enough to be the driver’s daughter. But she wasn’t that, either. We’ve spoken to the driver’s wife—she lives in Klamath Falls—and they have no children.”
“So, who was she?”
“No idea. She wasn’t carrying ID.”
“Not even a purse? Or a phone?” Charlotte couldn’t fathom walking to the corner market without hers.
“Nope.” Wade was clearly troubled by this.
“Did the driver’s wife have any ideas?”
“We asked, of course. Had her husband made plans to give someone a life? Was he in the habit of picking up hitchhikers? She said no to both questions. As far as she knew her husband was traveling his route alone, like usual.”
Charlotte could tell from Wade’s expression that he hoped for the wife’s sake there hadn’t been anything sordid about the woman’s presence in the truck.
“Besides,” he continued, “The woman didn’t look like someone who would be hitching a ride. She had diamond studs in her ears. Nails done up nice. Clean clothes—maybe a little wrinkled, is all.”
Charlotte fingered the studs in her own ears, a present she’d been given by her parents when she graduated college. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Too soon to tell. She’s at the Medical Clinic in Brookings. Last I checked, she was still unconscious.” Wade took another swallow of his beer.
His hand was shaking.
This wasn’t like Wade. But then, like her, he’d been through a lot the past week.
“We’re checking missing person reports in both Oregon and California, too. No matches so far. Hopefully she’ll regain consciousness soon and give us the answers we need.”
He hesitated. “If she makes it, that is.”
“Well. I hope she’s okay.”
“Yeah.” Wade’s voice trailed off, then he sighed. “But this isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Charlotte’s shoulder muscles tightened. She leveled her gaze down at the table. “How did my sister die? Did she suffer?”
“I don’t think so. Her head injury was sufficient to knock her out. Whether it was the cause of death we don’t know conclusively. I’m expecting more from the medical examiner next week. The final autopsy will be about four weeks after that.”
Wade put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I can imagine what a shock this has been for you.”
“It’s surreal. A part of me feels like I always knew Daisy was dead, and it’s good to finally have closure. But another part of me isn’t ready to let go of the hope that I might see her again.”
Charlotte rubbed her finger in a circle on the table, tracing the condensation from her glass. “I always figured she’d come back to Twisted Cedars to see her children, if not me.”
“At least you know she never made the choice to leave. Is that any comfort?”
“In a way. But it’s pretty cold comfort when you consider I’ll never see her again. We weren’t close as kids. Now we’ll never have a chance to be close as adults.”
Wade said nothing to that. What could he say? Wade wasn’t the sort of man to talk, when there wasn’t any point. Charlotte had always appreciated that about him.
She appreciated many other things about Wade, too. He was loyal, honorable and kind. The sort of man she knew her parents would have been happy for her to settle down with. She wondered if one day she’d regret turning down his proposal.
“It had to be Kyle who did this, right?”
“He’s a strong suspect. First, he was the last person to see Daisy
“The driver was dead,” Wade continued, “And he had a passenger, a woman. She was unconscious when I found her and still hadn’t come to when the ambulance drove off with her.”
“The driver’s wife?”
“No. Looked about your age, which makes her young enough to be the driver’s daughter. But she wasn’t that, either. We’ve spoken to the driver’s wife—she lives in Klamath Falls—and they have no children.”
“So, who was she?”
“No idea. She wasn’t carrying ID.”
“Not even a purse? Or a phone?” Charlotte couldn’t fathom walking to the corner market without hers.
“Nope.” Wade was clearly troubled by this.
“Did the driver’s wife have any ideas?”
“We asked, of course. Had her husband made plans to give someone a life? Was he in the habit of picking up hitchhikers? She said no to both questions. As far as she knew her husband was traveling his route alone, like usual.”
Charlotte could tell from Wade’s expression that he hoped for the wife’s sake there hadn’t been anything sordid about the woman’s presence in the truck.
“Besides,” he continued, “The woman didn’t look like someone who would be hitching a ride. She had diamond studs in her ears. Nails done up nice. Clean clothes—maybe a little wrinkled, is all.”
Charlotte fingered the studs in her own ears, a present she’d been given by her parents when she graduated college. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Too soon to tell. She’s at the Medical Clinic in Brookings. Last I checked, she was still unconscious.” Wade took another swallow of his beer.
His hand was shaking.
This wasn’t like Wade. But then, like her, he’d been through a lot the past week.
“We’re checking missing person reports in both Oregon and California, too. No matches so far. Hopefully she’ll regain consciousness soon and give us the answers we need.”
He hesitated. “If she makes it, that is.”
“Well. I hope she’s okay.”
“Yeah.” Wade’s voice trailed off, then he sighed. “But this isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Charlotte’s shoulder muscles tightened. She leveled her gaze down at the table. “How did my sister die? Did she suffer?”
“I don’t think so. Her head injury was sufficient to knock her out. Whether it was the cause of death we don’t know conclusively. I’m expecting more from the medical examiner next week. The final autopsy will be about four weeks after that.”
Wade put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I can imagine what a shock this has been for you.”
“It’s surreal. A part of me feels like I always knew Daisy was dead, and it’s good to finally have closure. But another part of me isn’t ready to let go of the hope that I might see her again.”
Charlotte rubbed her finger in a circle on the table, tracing the condensation from her glass. “I always figured she’d come back to Twisted Cedars to see her children, if not me.”
“At least you know she never made the choice to leave. Is that any comfort?”
“In a way. But it’s pretty cold comfort when you consider I’ll never see her again. We weren’t close as kids. Now we’ll never have a chance to be close as adults.”
Wade said nothing to that. What could he say? Wade wasn’t the sort of man to talk, when there wasn’t any point. Charlotte had always appreciated that about him.
She appreciated many other things about Wade, too. He was loyal, honorable and kind. The sort of man she knew her parents would have been happy for her to settle down with. She wondered if one day she’d regret turning down his proposal.
“It had to be Kyle who did this, right?”
“He’s a strong suspect. First, he was the last person to see Daisy
Similar Books
The Adventures of Nicholas
Helen Siiteri
Tales from a Not-So-Fabulous Life
Rachel Renée Russell
Between Land and Sea
Joanne Guidoccio
61 Hours
Lee Child
Turn Left at the Trojan Horse
Brad Herzog
The New World (The Last Delar)
Matthew Cousineau
Hellstrom's Hive
Frank Herbert
Dreams of Seduction
N. J. Walters
21: The Final Unfinished Voyage of Jack Aubrey
Patrick O’Brian
The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone
T C Southwell