Chapter 34
Ten minutes later, Wyatt pulled out of the parking lot and pointed the truck toward the highway. As he did, his mind raced.
Were those people squatters? A cult? A network of traffickers? He didn’t know.
“State police have the coordinates,” he told Kori. “They’re going to check it out and see what’s going on there.”
They drove in silence. The mountains moved past the windows at highway speed, the snow on their peaks bright even under the gray sky. Wyatt watched the road and ran through the remaining threads in his head.
“I’d forgotten what quiet sounds like,” Kori said. “Until I came here.”
He glanced at her and saw she was looking out at the mountains, her hands loose in her lap. For once, her thoughts had turned away from her sister and the danger surrounding this situation.
The mental break was probably good for her.
“Where I live there’s noise everywhere,” she told him. “Traffic, neighbors, the metro two blocks away.”
“It’s definitely a slower pace in this area. Personally, I love it.”
She turned toward him. “Is this where you always wanted to be? The mountains of Virginia?”
Her question caught him off guard. “No. Not really. I mentioned earlier that I lived in Patagonia for a while. That’s where I was when my sister’s husband pushed her down the stairs.
I thought I’d be in South America for a while.
Or if I left, I thought I’d go somewhere else just as unique.
Maybe the Dolomites or somewhere in Asia. ”
Kori’s eyebrows lifted. “Wow. You sound like quite the adventurer.”
“I was. But life had different plans for me. And sometimes it’s better if you don’t argue or complain about unexpected detours. It’s a hard but necessary lesson to learn.”
She continued studying his face. “Are you glad you came back?”
He thought about the question, wanting to give an honest answer. “I am glad to be here. Life is what you make of it, right? Our happiness isn’t determined by our location. It’s determined by our attitude and our choices.”
Kori slowly nodded. “I like that. You’re a pretty smart guy, Wyatt King.”
That got a smile out of him. “I don’t know about that . . . every day is a new set of choices, obstacles, and potential. Some days I win, and some days I don’t.”
The highway curved, and the hospital appeared on the right.
Wyatt’s hands tightened on the wheel.
He’d taken the exit more times than he wanted to count in the time after Richard pushed Sarah down the stairs.
Every time he’d come here since then bad memories had filled him.
He clearly remembered walking through those automatic doors and down those long corridors.
Sarah had been in a coma for two weeks. She’d never woken up.
Even worse, while she’d been on life support they’d found out she was pregnant.
Forgiving Richard Harding was the hardest thing Wyatt had ever done . . . and it was something he had to remind himself to do every day.
A deputy Kori hadn’t seen before stood in the hospital hallway with his arms crossed. The man observed Wyatt in his uniform for a moment before he relaxed and offered a nod.
“The woman still hasn’t spoken,” the deputy said when they reached him. “Sheriff Sutherland is going to come later to try to question her. Until then, I’m standing guard.”
Kori looked at the door leading to the woman’s room.
Through the narrow window she could see the woman in the bed. The wild look in her gaze had been replaced by a vacant one.
“I want to go in,” she said.
Wyatt looked at the window, and she sensed he was running calculations.
“Maybe she’ll talk if it’s just me,” Kori said, determined to plead her case. “One woman to another. No badge, no uniform.”
A beat passed, and Wyatt looked at the deputy, who nodded.
Then Wyatt turned back to Kori. “Fine. But the door stays open.”
“Thank you.” She gathered herself before stepping inside.
She’d questioned and interviewed plenty of people before in her role as an attorney. But this felt different.
This might be personal.
The room was warm and still. A monitor beeped softly to the left. Kori crossed to the chair beside the bed and sat down.
The woman’s eyes moved to her.
Kori didn’t say anything right away. She knew silence could be more disarming than words in situations like this. For that reason, she let the quiet sit between them a moment.
Then she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. She found a photo of Mackenzie and turned the screen toward the woman.
“This is my sister,” she said. “Her name is Mackenzie. She’s been missing for a week. I think you might know her.”
The woman looked at the screen, and something flickered in her eyes. But she still said nothing.
Kori kept her voice steady as she continued. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”
The woman looked at her. Then at the photo. Then back at Mackenzie.
She didn’t speak. But her eyes said everything her voice wouldn’t.
She recognized Mackenzie. Kori was certain of it.
Kori leaned forward. “Is she alive?”
The woman’s hands tightened on the blanket.
“Please.” Kori reminded herself to remain patient, knowing better than to do anything to trigger the woman into more silence.
“Mackenzie is the only family I have left. Whatever you’re afraid of—whatever someone told you would happen if you talked—I need you to know there are people who will keep you safe.
But I need to know if my sister is alive. ”
The woman looked at her.
More silence passed.
The monitor beeped.
Then the woman whispered, “Do you promise to keep me safe?”