Dark of the Night Page 16

  “Wasn’t she?” Jake asked, his voice soft, his concern obvious.

  “No.” She looked up, anger warring with horror. “Of course not.”

  “The report couldn’t be clearer.” He reached for her hands, and in her agitation she jerked them away, surprised to see the flash of hurt in his eyes.

  “Then it’s been doctored or something. Caroline wasn’t old enough to have . . . to have . . .” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

  “I can understand how hard it must be to think of your sister in that light, but she was eighteen, Riley. That’s certainly old enough to have been—” He paused, obviously searching for the right words. “—in love.”

  “Being in love doesn’t always have to equate with sexual activity.”

  “Riley,” Jake’s voice was gentle, “you were only eight. You wouldn’t have known.”

  “Of course I would.” She sounded petulant and she knew it, but this was Caroline they were discussing. Caroline. “My sister didn’t have a boyfriend. And without a boyfriend she couldn’t have been pregnant. This has got to be some malicious person’s sick idea of a joke.”

  Jake shook his head, his eyes serious. “If that were the case, whoever wrote it would have sent it directly to your family. I’ve been doing this a long time, and when someone leaks something, his motivation may be far from noble, but the information generally tends to have basis in fact.”

  “But the implication would be that someone covered it up.” And that someone would have had to be her father. But she didn’t believe that. He faced things head on, her father. He wouldn’t have lied about something so important.

  “Maybe we’re jumping to conclusions. The only thing we can be certain of at this point is that someone out there wants us to believe that your sister was pregnant.”

  She forced herself to concentrate on the facts. “We need to authenticate this. Is there a way to do that?”

  “The M.E.’s office should have a copy. We ought to be able to verify it off of that. And failing that, there’s always your copy.”

  She nodded, trying to separate emotion from logic. She couldn’t help anyone if she gave in to her panic. “And we can keep what we find quiet?”

  “I honestly don’t know. If we don’t do something, then whoever sent this to me will probably send it somewhere else. And they might not be as concerned about the story’s impact on you.” His eyes met hers, the message there going well beyond anything to do with Caroline.

  Riley looked away, ignoring the implication. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Maybe not. If we can prove this is fake, then at the very least you’ll be ready with a rebuttal if this version becomes public.”

  “And you’ll help me do that—prove it’s a fake?” She hated having to ask him for anything, but he was the only one she could trust. The thought brought her up short. But the sentiment was accurate. It might be a mistake. Or it might be only an emotional reaction to the intimacy of the night before. But whatever the reason, she did trust him.

  “I can check with the M.E. if you’d like. See if they have a copy. But we could be opening a kettle of worms if the document proves accurate.”

  She held his gaze, trying to decide what to do. It had been one thing to say she was going to find out what this was all about, but it seemed quite another to actually do something about it. Still, it was her family they were talking about. She couldn’t stand by and do nothing. “I’ll look for our copy. It’ll give us further authentication.”

  “I think you’re doing the right thing. You need to know what the truth is. And if it does turn out your sister was pregnant, then you can figure out the best way to handle the information.”

  She studied him for a minute, trying to order her thoughts. “If someone did cover this up, it wasn’t my father. I can’t believe he could have kept that kind of secret from me.”

  Jake turned to look out at the water. “People do what they think they have to, Riley.”

  “So you think he was protecting me?” She shook her head. “I don’t buy it. Daddy and I have always been honest with each other. We’re a team. If there’s any truth to this at all, it doesn’t involve him. I’m certain of that much.”

  “So you’re going to tell him what I’ve found?” Jake threw a stone into the water, his eyes still focused on the lazily moving river.

  She ran her hands through her hair, wishing she’d wake up and find all of this a dream. But it wasn’t. And though the thought of a cover-up frightened her, never knowing the truth frightened her even more. “No. I need to know the truth first. Then I’ll bring it to my father. There’s no sense upsetting him, until I have a better idea what this is all about.”

  Jake nodded, his eyes narrowing. “What can you tell me about the night Caroline died?”

  Chapter 14

  RILEY TOOK A step backward, needing the distance, suddenly doubting her decision to trust him. His dark eyes were probing, his demeanor seeming to change from confidant to inquisitioner in an instant. The strength of her uncertainty made her dizzy and she stumbled.

  Jake reached for her, his strong hands steadying, his touch only confusing her more. Their gazes met and held, and breathing became difficult. “I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” Regret colored his expression. “It’s second nature for me, I guess.”

  “To go for the jugular?” The words came out on a whisper.

  “Sometimes.” He lifted a hand, caressing the curve of her cheek. “But not with you, Riley.” His gaze darkened, and she shivered from the intensity. “Never with you.”

  There was so much unspoken between them. Far beyond Caroline, and the campaign. But she wasn’t ready for that. Might never be ready for that. So she chose the lesser of two evils.

  “She loved the balcony. Especially when there was a storm. She’d stand there and watch it come in, watch it cloak the sky. It was raining that night. An awful storm. The railing was loose. Had been forever. My father was always saying he’d fix it. But he didn’t. They heard her scream.” She trailed off, staring out at the river. “They say she died instantly.”

  “They?”

  She pulled in a slow breath, the motion soothing. “The police. My father. Leon. Everything I know about my sister’s accident is secondhand. I wasn’t there.”

  He frowned, and she wondered if it was because of her words or her sudden capitulation. “But you were in the house.”

  “I was asleep. My room is at the opposite end of the house.”

  His look was probing again. “But you must have heard something.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “What happened when they woke you?” He sat down on the log, pulling her with him.

  “They didn’t.” She felt tears again, and wondered if it would ever stop hurting. “I told you before, I was an afterthought in their lives.”

  “Sweetheart, it would have been awful for them. A parent’s worst nightmare. I’m sure they only did what they thought best.”

  “Maybe, but either way, it wasn’t until the next morning that I knew anything was wrong.” She closed her eyes. “As I said, there was a storm that night. A bad one. I can still hear the thunder.”

  “Is that why you’re afraid of storms?”

  She opened her eyes, startled. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he’d noticed. That was his avocation, after all. But even so, she found it a bit unsettling. “I suppose it’s part of it.” She stopped, unwilling to go any further. “I’ve honestly never liked them.” It was a lie, but she couldn’t bring herself to discuss her nightmare.

  He nodded, his eyes reflecting his doubt. She sucked in a breath, waiting for him to ask for more, to push harder. “So they told you the next morning?”

  “Told me what?” She struggled to cover her surprise. He hadn’t pressed her. Maybe he’d meant what he said. Maybe he wouldn’t force her confidences.

  “About Caroline.” His voice was gentle.

  “Oh, I see.
” She felt foolish—and selfish. She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of intimacy and Jake, she’d forgotten her reason for being here. Caroline.

  “So, did they tell you that morning?” Jake repeated.

  “No. Not immediately anyway.” She stared out at the river, letting the memories wash over her. “When I woke up, the sun was shining. Which surprised me. Daddy always came in to wake me up—so I could get ready for school. It was a game of sorts. He would come in playing reveille.”

  “On the trumpet?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “No, it was all pretend. He’d sing it like he was the trumpet.”

  “Sounds like a hell of an alarm clock to me.” Jake returned her smile.

  “It was.” She sighed, remembering.

  “But the day after Caroline died he didn’t come?”

  She picked at the moss on the side of the log, the soft feel of it a contrast to the hard edges of her memories. “No. I thought he was probably running late. And since I was the one who usually was behind, I decided to surprise him. So I got out of bed and put on my uniform.”

  “Catholic school.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Riley nodded. “Anyway, after I finished, I sat on the side of my bed, waiting for him to come. Excited because he was going to be so proud of me.”

  “For being on time.”

  She blew out a breath. “I wanted so much to please him.” A piece of bark broke off in her hand and she threw it into the river, watching as it sank and then surfaced, bobbing along in the current. “I waited and waited. But he didn’t come. So finally, I went along to Caroline’s room, thinking she’d know where Daddy was.

  “But she wasn’t there. So I sat by the window, and waited some more. Waited until the morning was almost gone, every minute more certain that something was horribly wrong.”

  “What happened?” His voice was soft, but insistent, pulling her away from the past.

  “Adelaide found me. And broke the news. My parents were locked in their bedroom. Consoling each other, I suppose.” She swallowed her pain, pushing it firmly away. “So you see, I can’t shed any light on her death. I went to bed with a sister and family, and woke up the next morning to find that they were all gone.” She shrugged, forcing a smile. “But I survived.”

  His hand tightened on hers, his look unreadable. “At what cost?”

  “I don’t know. There’s a price to everything, isn’t there?” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  “Some more than others.” Again she had the sense that there was more to his words than just talk of Caroline. “I didn’t mean to make you go through it all again. But if I’m going to help you, I need to try and understand what happened.”

  “So that we can unearth some forgotten truth about my sister? That’s just what they want, isn’t it? Whoever sent the autopsy report. They want me to question my beliefs about my sister. To believe the worst. Well, I won’t.”

  He reached for her other hand. “No matter how much we love someone, no matter how well we think we know them, the truth is, there are always secrets. Things that wait in the dark of the night to show their ugly heads. To prove to us once and for all that there is no such thing as a happy ending.”

  She believed all that he was saying, believed it with her whole heart. But saying it aloud made it sound so awful, so empty. Like a life devoid of sunshine. Perpetual darkness. She shivered. “You’re not talking about Caroline anymore, are you?”

  Jake dropped her hands, abruptly severing the connection between them. “I was talking about all of us, Riley. The whole damn human race. We seem intent on believing in fantasy—in fairy tales. But I, for one, know firsthand that, in reality, it’s sometimes nothing more than an empty illusion.”

  “Sometimes being the operative word here, Jake.” She couldn’t believe that she was offering him hope. But he sounded so bitter, and something deep inside her wanted only to ease his pain, to wipe the sadness from his eyes.

  He smiled, the gesture crooked and endearing. “We’ve gotten a little off track.” He was politely but firmly closing a door. Disappointment washed through her. “The point is someone wants us to find out the truth about Caroline. Whatever that may be.”

  Riley nodded, pulling her thoughts away from the enigmatic man in front of her. “And we’ve got to follow the bread crumbs to the answer.”

  He nodded, his look grim despite the smile. “And if you’re right, it will have all been about nothing.”

  “And if it’s not?” She met his gaze, looking for reassurance, for something, anything to ease her sudden doubt.

  “Then we’ll face it together.”

  The thought should have comforted her.

  But it didn’t.

  Two trips to the M.E.’s office in one week had to be a record. At least this time he was sitting in Megan’s office instead of watching her slice and dice.

  “Who gave this to you?” Megan was frowning over the top of her reading glasses at the autopsy report.

  “I don’t know. I found it in my apartment. Apparently, someone shoved it under my door.”

  “Was there a postmark?”

  “Nothing. Just a plain envelope. No fingerprints.”

  Megan’s eyebrows rose over the frames of her glasses. “You took this to the police?”

  “God, no.” Jake smiled sheepishly. “I have my own kit.”

  Megan laughed, the sound filling the small office. “I should have known.”

  “And I’m trusting that you won’t tell anyone either.”

  “Why would I?” She shrugged. “There’s nothing illegal about having a copy of an autopsy report. And this one,” she waved at the papers in her hand, “isn’t even interesting.”

  “Except for the fact that it concerns the daughter of a man running for President of the United States.”

  “Well, there is that.” She smiled. “But it’s still nothing earth-shattering. According to this, Caroline O’Brien fell from the balcony of her home, and in the process managed to break her neck. End of story.”

  Jake’s mind was whirling with possibilities, none of them panning out. Why the hell would someone give him Caroline’s autopsy report? Her death had been well-publicized. A tragic event that had ultimately taken the life of Riley’s mother as well. He hadn’t been around when it happened, but he’d seen it referenced often in newspaper articles about Carter. The pregnancy, if there was one, had obviously been covered up—but even that wasn’t particularly newsworthy twenty years down the road.

  He turned his attention back to the M.E. “Can you verify that it’s authentic?”

  “Sure. We should have the original.” Megan grimaced. “Somewhere. Things are a bit jumbled in our archives since we’ve moved to the new building, and this case is really old. But I can have someone check into it. And if we can’t find it, there’s always the APD. There should be a copy in the original police file.”

  “How about the M.E. who signed this? Is he still around?”

  She shook her head regretfully. “No.”

  “The proverbial dead end?”

  “The literal one.” She shrugged. “He died over eight years ago.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Hey, you take what you can get. Right?”

  “I suppose.” He stood up, ready to go, swallowing his frustration. “I’ll count on your discretion of course.”

  “Jake, I’ve been out on worse limbs for you before. This one is nothing. I’ll keep the search on the QT and call you if we find anything. Okay?”

  “Thanks, Megan. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  The M.E. smiled. “You’d flounder.”

  Riley stood in her father’s study feeling like a traitor. Which was stupid, because all she was trying to do was protect him. Protect him and find out the truth about her sister.

  Hopefully, the two things weren’t at odds.

  She sat down in front of her father’s desk, praying for a miracle. So far the
fates seemed to be on her side, which, considering she’d never attempted anything even remotely clandestine before, was something of a relief. All she had to do was find the report, prove to Jake that the other one was a fake, and voilà, she was off the hook.

  Sort of.

  There still remained her feelings for the man, but now was not the time to examine those. Truth was, between bombs and campaigns, old mysteries and renegade journalists, there might never be a “right” time. She sighed and pulled open a drawer.

  As in everything, her father’s desk was overly organized. He had a streak of the obsessive compulsive. All the files were neatly labeled, most of them having something to do with the campaign.

  Closing the first drawer, she pulled out a second. Again the files were neatly organized, and although the labels yielded more personal titles, there was nothing about Caroline. Or about her. She pulled open the final drawer only to find more of the same. Great. She was on a wild goose chase, tempting cataclysmic disaster.

  Or maybe she was preventing it.

  At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

  The whole idea here was to protect her father’s campaign. Everything in politics was about spin, and if ever there was a situation they needed to control, this was the one. She honestly didn’t believe the report Jake had was real. But if it turned out that her sister had been pregnant, she’d have first shot at the information. They’d have first shot, and it’d be easy then for Maudeen, or one of her father’s other PR folks, to give the whole thing a positive slant.

  Or bury it once and for all.

  If Jake would allow it.

  And therein lay the rub. Jake was first and foremost a reporter, and, despite what he’d said, it would be difficult if not downright impossible for him to pass on a story. And even if he did, there was always the chance that whoever had sent the autopsy report would take it to someone else.

  This was the right thing to do.

  She closed the drawer. Nothing here. She swiveled around in the chair, searching the office, trying to think of where her father would keep something as important as her sister’s autopsy record.