Sister Dear (32 page)

“This baby's vintage.” Russell winked and stretched out his arm and ran a hand along the dashboard. “Don't even make them anymore.”

Caroline didn't know whether to giggle or be impressed. She slid inside and buckled in, closing the door behind her. “What is it?”

“Volare. Chrysler made the last ones in 1980. This was my grandfather's. He had it in Florida until he died a few years ago. It's really my dad's, but he says I'll get it”—Russell signaled and eased out into the road—“if I'm responsible and take care of it.”

“Right.”

“I've got a limited work permit right now. My dad has me running a few errands for him. It's kind of like probation for a driver's license.”

Caroline blinked. “Um, should I be worried about driving with you?”

“No. Remember how I told you we lived outside of Atlanta?” Russell said. “Well, in Buckhead, I got hooked up with a pretty wild bunch of older guys. You know, crazy rich kids who like to drink and party.”

She bit her lip and shrugged.

“So, anyway, I got a DUI.”

Caroline widened her eyes. “Oh my.”

“Yeah.” Russell clamped his hand on the wheel. “I've done two driving schools, rehab, almost three hundred hours of community service, and paid huge fines.” He glanced over. “So my parents offered me a deal. Move away for my senior year, stay out of trouble, and they'll pay for PT school if I get in.”

“Wow.” Caroline held his gaze, then turned and pointed at the black device with a spiral cord near the steering wheel. “So, what's that for?”

“It's an ignition interlock thing that I have to breathe into,” he said. “It makes sure I'm not drunk. If it measures that I am, the car won't start.”

“Couldn't I breathe into it for you?” Caroline asked.

“Would you?” Russell frowned.

“Of course not,” she answered, indignant. “I was just asking.”

“My parents would ground me for life. Or just send me to some camp for terrible kids out in the middle of nowhere. They've found out every single time I've done something stupid.”

Caroline settled back against the seat. “Seriously, Russell? I appreciate you telling me.”

“I'm not proud of it.” He looked across the seat at Caroline. “I would have told you before, but there was never a good time . . .”

“Or I wouldn't listen,” she added and smiled.

“That's true.” Russell chuckled.

Caroline pressed her palms against her jeans.

“So, what's going on? What happened?” Russell asked. He focused on the blacktop, then turned off at a small driveway to the left. Shaded with trees, the paved road wound up a hill and ended in front of a bungalow-style home.

“O-kay,” Caroline said slowly. Was this his house? Was she meeting his parents? Maybe she should have stayed at the library, but it was too late now.

Russell parked and looked over at her. “Let's sit here first. You can tell me everything. If you want to, then we can go inside.”

With a sharp exhale, Caroline began talking. She told him about Emma at the dinner table, how she acted when she brought up June Gaines. She told him about the day at school with the counselor and how she was almost failing science. And she explained about going to talk to Dr. Gaines and the interruption with the sheriff.

“You've had a busy couple of days,” Russell mused. “No wonder you're freaked.”

Caroline sighed and gave him a lopsided grin.

“Let's talk to my mom. She came home early this afternoon and can help us figure out what to do.” He glanced at Caroline.

She frowned and gave a quick shake of her head. It was too much for her to carry around. Caroline felt as if she might burst.

“Come on.” Russell motioned. “I promise she won't bite.”

Despite her reluctance, Caroline followed him up the stairs. Their home was warm and inviting, a lovely bungalow with a wraparound porch, hanging baskets dripping with flowers, and a wooden swing painted white.

Russell waved for her to hurry.

It was perfect. Too perfect. Caroline's body locked into place.
Her life would never be this perfect. His mother wouldn't understand. “I don't know about this . . .”

“Um, it's okay to be nervous,” Russell murmured, coming back across the wooden slats. “It's normal.”

But this was not a date. They were investigating. And trying to connect pieces of a puzzle. And sticking their noses where they didn't belong. And they could be making everything more of a mess.

Caroline's throat was suddenly parched. Russell's mother was her mother's boss. She didn't know if Allie and Natalie talked, what they talked about, or if any of it was about Caroline. She bit her lip.

This wasn't just butterflies.

This was roller-coaster-just-before-the-big-drop panic.

FORTY-FIVE

CAROLINE

2016

Before Caroline could say another word, a small-boned woman—a miniature version of Russell with shorter hair and a turned-up nose—opened the front door.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “I'm Natalie. How are you, Caroline?”

“G-good, thank you. Nice to meet you,” she said, hanging back behind Russell.

“Don't you two want to come in?” Natalie opened the door wider, making room for them to pass.

Caroline held her breath and tiptoed into the room. She watched as Russell's mother took a seat on the sofa and patted the area beside her. Natalie was tiny and bird-like, graceful in her movements. Russell, with his long limbs, was anything but. He collapsed next to his mother, heaved a sigh, and stretched out. “Have a seat,” he told her.

Keeping a safe distance, Caroline took the chair close to the window. Her pulse slowed. Natalie wasn't scary. She didn't look at her like she had two heads or was a bad person; she would live through this.

“So Russell tells me you're helping out at the nursing home.” Natalie leaned forward and brushed a piece of lint off her leg. “How do you like it?”

Caroline looked at Russell, who smiled. “It's good. I'm getting used to it.”

“It's great experience,” Natalie said. “And I guess you know your mom is working in our office?”

“Sure.” Caroline squirmed at little in her seat.

“She's talented,” Natalie commented. “Really talented.”

Caroline cleared her throat as she looked up at Natalie Harper. Clearly, the woman really and truly liked her mother. “S-she was going to be a physician,” she said in a soft voice.

“I believe it.”

In the awkward beat of silence that followed, Russell put both elbows on his knees. “So, Mom, I was telling you that there's this lady at the nursing home—June Gaines. She used to be a doctor and deliver babies until she got into a really bad accident. Now can't remember a lot of things—like stuff that happened today. And she can't work.”

Natalie motioned for Russell to continue.

“So, when Caroline goes in her room, Dr. Gaines always thinks she's someone else.”

Russell's mother raised an eyebrow. “Like, an actual person? Or—”

“She calls me Emma,” Caroline interjected. “That's my aunt's name. My mom's sister.”

Clearing his throat, Russell leaned forward and gestured. “Tell my mom what else she says.”

Caroline reddened and ducked her head. “Well, she talks about a baby and someone hurting Emma, some other weird stuff. She's just sure I'm Emma, and she talks to me like she knows me.” She
hesitated, suddenly feeling this was all stupid. Natalie would think they were both silly kids, on some wild made-up mystery.

“And, Mom, Dr. Gaines doesn't do this with anyone else—get all upset—except for Caroline,” added Russell.

“Could it be another Emma?” Natalie asked, looking thoughtful. She didn't laugh or seem to think Caroline was crazy. “Or do you look like your aunt?”

Russell considered this and stared hard at Caroline.

“Um, yeah. We do look alike. A lot more than my mom and I do,” Caroline said, still nervous. She played with the hem of her shirt. “And I wouldn't care if Dr. Gaines thought I was Emma, but when she starts freaking out and talking about this baby, it's kind of scary.”

“Did you ask your aunt about it?” Natalie shifted to look at Caroline straight on.

“I did,” Caroline said, shrugging. “She changes the subject or avoids it, kind of like she wants me to think nothing happened.” She lowered her eyes. “It's so creepy. It's like whatever happened is happening over and over when Dr. Gaines sees me. And I think that whatever baby she's talking about . . .” Caroline looked at Russell.

“We don't think the baby made it.” He finished the sentence.

Natalie winced. “Why do you say that?”

“She told me—Emma—that I should adopt. That there are other options.”

Raising an eyebrow, Natalie clasped her hands tighter. “Oh. I see.” Caroline watched Natalie's face change from concern to shock as she absorbed the story. “Well, what about this? If your aunt won't talk, you could ask your mother.”

Caroline gulped. “I don't even really know my mom.”

Thankfully, Natalie didn't defend Allie. “Why not think about reconnecting now? I know she'd welcome the time with you.”

Hesitating, Caroline slid her hands under her legs to keep them from trembling. “Did she say that?”

Natalie cocked her head. “You know, I can't speak for her. I can only tell you what I've seen and heard in my office. Caroline, she cares about you. How could a mother not?”

Caroline's eyes began to itch and sting. She never wanted to cry in front of Russell, but it would be even worse to start sobbing with both of them in the same room.

“I'm so sorry,” Natalie added. “And I think you are well within your rights to ask your mom if she knows what happened with Emma.”

Caroline pressed a hand to her lips, almost not wanting to say the words. “I-I can't.”

“Can't or won't?” Natalie asked in a soft tone. She didn't seem like she was really looking for an answer. She was playing devil's advocate. She looked at Russell and reached over and patted his knee. “Tell her what happened with you.”

“She knows about the DUI. And the community service and fines and restrictions.”

“Tell her the rest of the story,” Natalie prompted him.

The rest?
Caroline sat up straighter.

Russell ran a hand through his hair and smoothed it over his forehead. “The bad part, right?” He grimaced and turned to face Caroline. “So I ran with this group of older guys in Buckhead. They all had money; most of them drove Mercedes and BMWs. They were pretty crazy, always drinking, drag racing, stealing stuff, just really nuts.”

A wave of surprise swept through Caroline's body.

“This one night, one of them asked me to get some beer,” Russell added. “I knew this guy, so I had him buy it. We went to the park, finished off a few cases. We shouldn't have ever gotten back into my
friend's Expedition, and for some reason, I was driving.” Russell paused and swallowed. “The plan was to pick up some girls.”

His mother coughed and frowned.

“Prostitutes.” Russell's face turned deep red. “It wasn't my idea, but I didn't back out either. So we picked up three girls, took off for one of the guy's houses. On the way, this huge bus crossed the highway. When I veered out of the way, my car flipped. The Expedition blew a tire, spun out, and rammed straight into another car.”

Caroline blinked, wide-eyed.

“One guy died. Another broke his back, and I was pretty bruised up,” Russell said. “I was in and out of it for days.” Russell paused, staring at his shoes. “What was really terrible—what my mom wanted me to tell you—was when it was all over, the families of the two guys sued me and my parents. They told the police I'd coerced everyone to drink, that it was my idea to pick up the girls, that I'd paid for them too. Everyone had the same story. Except me.”

Natalie interrupted. “We had to hire a lawyer and fight it. It took time and a lot of money. But those friends—we can't even call them that now—wanted Russell to take the fall for everything. The death of that boy, all of the injuries.”

“What happened?” Caroline was almost afraid to ask.

“The other kids had been in trouble before. Drugs, vandalism, all juvenile offenses. We didn't know that at the time, but with some digging, it came out. That tipped off the judge that this group might not be telling the whole truth.” Natalie pursed her lips. “Of course, Russell had just gotten a DUI, so he wasn't any bright, shining example.”

“Oh, wow,” Caroline breathed.

Natalie nodded. “It took a lot of trust and time, but we got through it.” She steadied her gaze on Caroline. “That's why I think you should talk to your mom. This is your life and your family.
Your mother and sister are adults. They can handle some hard questions.”

“Okay.” Caroline whispered the word. “Even the part about Dr. Gaines?”

“Absolutely,” Natalie agreed. “She
thinks
you're Emma. Maybe it's a totally different person and you just look like her, maybe not. But you'll never find out if you don't ask.”

Right that moment, Caroline wasn't sure what she wanted. She felt as if she'd stumbled onto a ticking bomb and she was the only person who could try to detonate it. One false move, one wrong clip of the wire, and everything around her would explode.

FORTY-SIX

ALLIE

2016

Allie knew she'd gone too far with the Montgomery family. She might have jeopardized everything. His father had likely called the sheriff or one of his deputies to complain.

She'd have to work fast. What else did D'Shawn know? Had his mother not intervened, Allie thought he might have kept talking. Whether it was football or genetics, something went horribly wrong for a player with so much potential. In her mind, she reexamined his demeanor, the way his muscles didn't respond, the slur of his voice when he answered questions.