Page 7 of Last Seen

Chapter Four

Halley reads the article, her mind practically shaking with the information.

Her mother, Susannah, was murdered?

Her half sister, Catriona, was held for questioning in the murder?

Her sister murdered her mother?

What. The. Hell?

She can’t understand what she’s reading.

It has to be a mistake. The two of them died in a car accident when she was six.

Twenty-eight years ago. She barely remembers them, only snatches, bits and pieces, flashes of memories.

She remembers a funeral, people crying, and shoes that pinched her toes.

Remembers her dad holding her hand so tightly she had to beg him to let her go.

Remembers whispers. And then they moved to Marchburg, a fresh start, and the accident became a dark dream.

She didn’t want to think about their deaths.

Still doesn’t. She can’t remember any of it anyway.

What’s the point in trying to look back?

A headache starts in her temple. A throbbing that presages a migraine.

She’s had them all her life, ever since the accident that took her mother’s and sister’s lives and left her unmarked except for a small scar, a streak of white in her hair, and lingering headaches.

And they are such an annoyance. But she doesn’t care right now.

She skims the rest of the papers in the envelope, realizing they are all pieces of a story she has never heard. A story her father has kept from her.

Her mother was murdered. And her half sister did it.

This isn’t possible, and yet there is no mistaking either of them in the photos.

Halley’s sense of dislocation deepens. She is a carbon copy of her mother.

And realizing she is only a year younger now than her mom was when she died— no, Halley, murdered —sends shock waves through her.

It might as well be her in the photos. She is the echo that never stopped reverberating.

But her dad ... He lied to her. Why would he lie to her?

The fissure that cracks her heart apart is so intense she has to gasp for breath. Her father lied to her.

Why would he do that?

The name isn’t exact; it should read Susannah Elizabeth James, not Handon, which was her maiden name. But there’s no question this is her mother; the same elegant, bold face stares from the single photo on the fireplace. The one that looks so much like Halley.

Her mom was divorced when she met and married Quentin James.

Catriona—they called her Cat because Halley couldn’t pronounce her half sister’s full name—was ten when Halley came along.

Old enough to see a new little sister as an inconvenience, surely.

But was it more? Cat hadn’t taken to Halley, and she could remember the anger, the yelling, the arguments, though only the shape of them, not the real words or topics.

Everything is blurred by time. The memories of her mother and her sister are foggy at best, and end abruptly after the accident.

“Cat is perfectly nicknamed,” her dad once told Halley when she was crying, having been yelled at for some random transgression. “She hisses and hisses, but it’s just fear driving her. You’ll be best friends one day. Just watch.”

He was firmly convinced, told her that all the time. Halley took his word for it; Cat hated her, but maybe when they were older, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Was it something more? Did Halley break something in her sister, and she eventually took it out on their mother?

Was having a miniature version of her mother couched as an imperious, beloved girl-child too much for her?

Cat looked like her own father. Was she jealous of Halley’s resemblance to her mom?

Was it something more, something deeper?

Halley could be twisting these memories; she isn’t sure of anything anymore.

Why are you blaming yourself? You were six. You were not responsible for any of this.

Halley’s heart is pounding, her head throbbing, and she closes her eyes, taking deep breaths. This day is too damn much. From work to her dad to Theo to this bombshell news? It’s like a very bad dream. Maybe she’ll wake up and none of it will be true.

Her vision is going fuzzy. She finds her purse and puts a tab of ergotamine under her tongue. She must arrest the migraine before it gets too bad and she’s flat on her back in the dark for the rest of the night.

As the bittersweet taste fills her mouth, she combs the rest of the papers, feeling a new emotion she’s never experienced before.

It is grief, but deeper, harsher. Her mother wasn’t taken from her by chance.

She was stolen by the flaxen-haired girl who flits in and out of Halley’s memory like a bright ghost.

How is this even possible?

She has to talk to her dad. Now.

She isn’t supposed to drive when she’s having an episode, but there is nothing that will stop her right now.

She shoves all the papers back into the envelope and hurries to the Jeep, her new truth clutched in her hand.

She is careless on the drive back to the hospital, squinting against the haloed lights of oncoming cars, running the yellow light at the end of the street in her rush to get confirmation.

She blows past the front desk and runs down the hall, skidding to a stop at her dad’s room.

He is asleep; of course he is. He’s been through hell today—a painful fall, an even more painful surgery. She’s being selfish waking him, but there’s no way she isn’t going to. She has to find out the truth. She watches him for a moment, heart pounding wildly, breath catching.

“Dad? Daddy? Wake up.”

He makes an inarticulate noise. She reaches down and shakes his shoulder, and his eyes open, blank as the night sky. The drugs have their hold on him. It takes him a minute to focus.

“Halley? You’re here?”

“I’m here, Dad. I talked to you earlier, remember?”

He closes his eyes and swallows. Seeing how uncomfortable he is dampens her needs for a moment.

“Are you thirsty?” She picks up the Styrofoam pitcher and pours him a glass of water, places the straw in his mouth, and waits for him to suck it down.

“What time is it?” he finally asks. She glances at the clock to the left of his wall-mounted television and winces.

“Almost midnight. Sorry, but I have to talk to you. It’s about Mom.”

“Tomorrow, honey.”

“No, Dad. Now. Wake up.”

He struggles to keep his eyes open, but nods. “What?”

“I found the papers about her murder. Mom’s murder . Why didn’t you tell me?”

The fear that flashes over his face takes her breath away. He is instantly awake.

“Shit,” he mutters, another rarity. Her dad doesn’t cuss in front of her, ever.

“What is it? Dad, you’re scaring me.”

“Oh, Halley.” He sighs, heavily, looking away, anywhere but at her. “This is not the time.”

Halley tries to keep her voice even. “My mother was murdered by my sister. And you hid this from me. There’s never going to be a good time. Might as well do it when one of us is numb to the pain.”

“It’s a very long story.”

“Give me the highlights. Let’s start with why you lied?”

“To protect you, obviously. Your sister is ... dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“Is she not in jail?”

“Not anymore, no. And she wasn’t in jail, proper, ever, but a juvenile psychiatric facility. The courts found that she was not fully competent to be tried as an adult, and they kept her in the juvie system until she turned eighteen and was released. I moved us here to keep you safe.”

“You moved us to Marchburg to protect me? She didn’t know where we were?”

“No, she didn’t. I changed our names, dropped Handon in favor of your grandmother’s maiden name, James, and have done as much as possible to keep you off her radar.”

This does not jibe with anything she knows. Dangerous sisters. Name changes. Murdered mothers.

“Why?” Halley’s voice is a whisper. “Why did you have to protect me?”

“Like I said, honey, this is a very long, complicated story. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. It wasn’t smart of me to hide it from you, but I didn’t want to scare you. Catriona is not someone you want in your life.”

“Why did she kill Mom?”

He shifts uncomfortably, and the monitor beeps as he settles back down. A nurse sticks her head in, then rattles inside with a cart. “It’s time to check your vitals, sir. Ma’am, you should wait outside.”

“I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

When the nurse starts making some very uncomfortable chitchat with her dad about the state of his bowels and bladder, Halley changes her mind and steps out into the hall.

He has a catheter; she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

This is going to be a much more difficult recovery than she thought.

She hasn’t even started thinking about what happens when he goes home.

He’s going to need a lot of care, for weeks to come.

Probably more than she can provide ...

Of course, she has all the time in the world to play nurse.

Maybe even a way to explain to the people in her life why she left her beloved job. Her father needed her.

But on top of all that, this crazy news?

There’s no way in hell she’s not going to look up her sister’s record and find out where she is.

The initial shock is wearing off, and she’s starting to realize what a huge issue this is.

She has to reframe her entire life. Always a cheated destiny, not growing up with a mother, only to learn that it wasn’t simply fate or chance that took her away but another person’s soulless action?

A person with whom you share blood? It’s incomprehensible.

You’re being very rational, Hal. Hold it together a little longer.