Page 84 of Accidental Murder

Another shot rang out.

She sprinted into the forest and stopped when she saw her uncle sitting on a tree stump in a clearing. He was pointing his Beretta at the sky. A turkey vulture soared overhead. David took aim and pulled the trigger.

Blam!The vulture flew away unscathed.

Cautiously, Kayla drew near. “David?”

He whirled on her. Aimed. Breathing heavily through his nostrils. Eyes unfocused. He was wearing only a shirt and trousers, no shoes. He had to be cold.

Even from that distance, she could smell the booze oozing from his pores. She threw up both hands. “Don’t shoot. David, put down the gun.”

“Ashley?” Torment twisted the features of his face. “I’m sorry.” He shoved the nose of the gun into his mouth.

“No!” Kayla rushed to him and snatched the weapon before he could get off a shot. She locked the safety and anchored the pistol beneath the waistband of her sister’s jeans. Then she crouched to meet her uncle’s gaze. Gently, she said, “Talk to me. Tell me about Sara Simmons.”

“Sara.” He dropped his head into his hands. “It’s my fault she’s dead,” he whispered, shoulders shaking, not looking up. “I told him Kayla saw everything.”

Hearing her name sent Kayla for a loop as she tried to piece together what her uncle was saying. “Told who?”

“He said I jeopardized the project. He said I deserved to die. He said you have to die, too, Ashley. He’s coming for you.”

Kayla’s breath snagged in her chest. She could barely breathe. “What project did you jeopardize?”

Her uncle lifted his head and held out his hand. “Give me my gun, Ashley.”

“No.”

“Do it!”

“No. David, listen, it’s me. I’m Kayla.”

He clambered to his feet and tried to snatch the gun from the small of her back.

She slapped his face and hurtled backward three paces. “Stop! Look at me. I’m Kayla. Ashley is the one who died.”

Bewilderment flooded his eyes. Then hope. Then realization. Which cut him to the quick. He began to vibrate. “Kayla? You’re alive?”

“Sara Simmons wanted to shut down Bledsoe, didn’t she? She wrote you a memo, and you . . .” She let the word hang. “You told someone she was investigating, didn’t you?”

His face crumpled. He began to sob. “I had to. Years ago I botched an operation. It didn’t go to trial, but he knew. He blackmailed me. He?—”

“Who is he?”

“He swore he would turn me in. Swore I would lose my practice. I’m the best cardiac surgeon this state has, but if I didn’t do what he asked, my practice and all I’d worked for would vanish. I’d be bankrupt. My girls would have nothing. Do you understand?” His voice cracked with sorrow. “Because of what I did, they would be penniless.” Tears flowed easily. “They already hate me. I’ve ruined their lives.” He used his forearm to wipe tears off his face. “I told him about his brother’s research. As payment. It was old. Useless. I didn’t think it would matter.”

“Whose brother? What research?”

“All hospitals do research,” he went on, not answering her questions. “They get grant money, then when they hit a wall, they ditch the research. Brain Freeze was going to be destroyed.”

“Brain Freeze.”

“Bledsoe will make millions withGDDS.”

“GDDS,” she repeated, recalling Sara’s notes. “Does it have to do with deviation detection?”

“Let’s build strong minds and strong bodies,” her uncle intoned like a salesman. “It will benefit everyone.” He shot a finger into the air. “He’s so excited. He’s been waiting a long time to realize this dream. His brother would be so proud.”

Would be?That meant whoever he was talking about had a brother, and the brother was dead.