Fatal Secrets. Barbara PhinneyЧитать онлайн книгу.
kill you, so you need to talk to the police. If it has anything to do with the Martino family, you need to let them know even more.”
She snapped her head over. “How do you know what I need? Or what I think, or anything?”
“You have the face of an angel, Kristin. Every thought that runs through your head is displayed loud and clear to those who know how to read people. And I’ve made it my business to read people. You think what’s happened to you is related to the Martino family. And we both know you’re not telling me everything, but you will tell the police.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybes about it. You obviously don’t trust me, but surely, you’ll trust the local police force.”
She sat ramrod still, not answering him for a few minutes. He had the time to wait her out, but when he looked up at her face, a tear rolled down her perfectly clear cheek. It dropped to her jeans.
He groaned inwardly. “What’s wrong?”
She hastily brushed the tear away. “The last time I was here was to pick up my adoptive parents’ things. The police had come to my door and taken me to the hospital.” She looked at him with hollow eyes. “Did you know that they have a morgue in the basement there? I had to identify my mother and father. They’d been in a car crash south of here. The police were actually willing to take me to where they died, but I… It was the worst thing to ever happen to me. I couldn’t do it.”
She swallowed, obviously fighting back difficult emotions. “Then a policewoman took me home and spent the night with me, until one of the ladies from the church could come and stay. A couple of days later, I was asked to come here to collect my parents’ things. They handed me a box and two bags of stuff that was broken and splattered with—” She inhaled shakily. “Then the police were done with me. I haven’t been back since.”
Zane slumped. He remembered a crash about five months ago. The roads were clear, but still the car had plunged over a short embankment into Lindbergh Lake. Both the husband and wife had died. The autopsies and even tearing apart the car couldn’t reveal any reason for the accident. The story fell off the radar shortly after their funeral.
They were her parents?
Abruptly, Kristin threw open the door and climbed out.
“Kristin!” Zane scrambled out. “I had no idea. You should have said something.”
She colored as she pulled her short vest closer around her neck. Outside the center of town, the wind was stronger and cooler. “I should be able to come to the police station without tears, right? I’m a big girl. Regardless of Jackson’s warning, I need to report what happened to me. I mean, he’d insist I tell the police if he knew I’d been pushed into traffic, right? They’d be able to investigate it better than he could.”
She straightened her shoulders, obviously trying to look taller than she really was. As a petite, slender woman, she couldn’t really pull it off.
Why wouldn’t this Jackson guy trust the police? Why even say that? Zane thought. Unless it had something to do with that phone call she’d received back in the café. The one he now figured came from Jackson.
He was from the FBI, Kristin had said. He wouldn’t fool around with her life.
Several government cars pulled into the parking lot. Kristin moved to one side to allow them to park. The wind raised a few strands of her hair, flicking them over to one side. His hand itched to set them back in place and cover that scar she hid so well. “You don’t have to go in there.”
“I should. I should remember what my pastor told me. My parents are together with Jesus now. And the Lord wouldn’t give me any situation I can’t handle. I handled their deaths.” She looked over at the station, as if steeling herself. “I can do this.”
Zane shifted uncomfortably. Another one like Jake Downs that believed God is good, even when He dumped on you. That was because they didn’t have the childhood Zane had.
“Nonetheless, you don’t have to go in.”
She wavered a bit, he could see. Then she shook her head. “I should. Someone pushed me in front of that truck and I wouldn’t be here right now if I hadn’t managed to roll away quickly. God was looking out for me.”
“If God was looking out for you, He wouldn’t have put that truck on the road or that idiot on the sidewalk.”
“He gave me the agility I needed.” A frown marked her forehead. “This isn’t the time to debate the merits of my faith. I need to go into this station sooner or later. I’m going in, now.” She lifted her chin. “And maybe I can show you that I’m sincere in doing this, so that you’ll help me find my biological mother.”
He hated her intuition, not to mention the guilt she was dumping on him. But before he could say anything, she added with a soft, sweet smile, “I appreciate all you’ve done so far.”
“I haven’t done anything,” he growled.
“You were there for me at the café.”
He took her arm and steered her toward the front door. He hadn’t done a single thing for her yet, nor had he promised to do anything. And yet she was thanking him.
He should help her.
But still, a voice within him whispered, she hasn’t told you much. All you’ve heard is a sad, little story.
He glanced down at her as she tugged free of his grip and moved forward. He watched her straighten up and stiffen her spine.
Across the back of her vest were two faint smears of something dark and iridescent. Some kind of grease? From the hands of the man who pushed her?
Before he could say anything, she strode toward the front door. With a frown, he took the few long steps needed to catch up with her.
Inside the station, a police officer recognized Kristin, and led them down to a small office. She hesitated in the doorway before pushing inside. They sat down and Kristin began to speak.
She told her story, haltingly, he thought.
And leaving out, he noticed, the part of why she had asked to meet Zane.
And the part about Martino’s trial. Zane kept his mouth shut, deciding he would say something only if it became necessary. Maybe she was rethinking that just because she’d attended a trial did not necessarily mean the convicted felon would go after her.
The officer recorded it all, getting the statement written up quickly for her to sign.
“You should take her vest,” Zane suggested to the man when all was done.
The officer frowned. “Why?”
Zane answered by asking Kristin to remove the vest. With a small frown, she peeled it off, and Zane spread it out on the table between him and the officer. The dark smudges he’d seen earlier stood out starkly in the cool fluorescent lights. They shimmered like some kind of special automotive grease. The two marks were shaped like fingerprints.
“Whoever pushed her left those marks. They may reveal fingerprints.”
The officer retrieved a large paper bag and set the vest in it, then wrote out a receipt for her. “I’ll have a look at it later, but you must remember that this is a college town, and students do stupid things, even early in the morning. Someone could have just jostled you, Ms. Perry, and then slipped back into the crowd so he wouldn’t be accused of anything.”
“I distinctly felt two hands on my back.”
“This is a thick vest. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” She stiffened her shoulders. “Why would I lie?”
The officer shook his head. “I’m not saying you’re lying. You may be mistaken. We often get reports of students jumping the gun on things that later prove to be just an accident, or not