In Silence

CHAPTER 40

Hunter sat bolt upright in bed, the sound of children's screams echoing in his head. For a moment he couldn't think. Couldn't separate himself from the nightmare.

With his mind's eye he saw the car careening out of control. The fence going down. The children's terror. The one child standing frozen in the path of his two thousand pounds of steel and glass.

The woman, throwing herself at the child. Saving the boy. Sacrificing herself.

He became aware of the light streaming through the blinds. The soft hum of traffic, of the Monday-morning delivery trucks in the alley. Sarah's puppies whimpering, hungry.

Hunter leaned over the side of the bed and looked at her. It seemed to him she was doing her best to block out their cries. "You're being paged," he said to her.

She lifted her head, looked at him.

"I'll get up if you will."

She stared at him a moment, then thumped her tail once. "I'll take that as a yes," he said and climbed out of bed.

He pulled on a pair of shorts and headed to the bathroom. Teeth brushed, bladder emptied, he beelined for the kitchen. Sarah beat him there. She stood at the door, anxious but patient. He grabbed her lead off the hook, clipped it onto her collar and then together they stepped out into the bright, warm morning.

He and Sarah had their routine. A quick trip out to the nearest patch of grass to take care of her immediate needs, then back for her to feed her pups and him to guzzle coffee. Later, they would take a longer walk or a run.

Sarah did her business and they started back. They rounded the corner. His steps faltered. The dog whined.

Avery waited at his door.

She turned. Their eyes met. He sent her a sleepy, pleased smile. "No breaking and entering today?"

She didn't blink. "We need to talk."

"Guess not." Hunter crossed to the door, pushed it open. From the corner of his eye, he saw her bend and scratch Sarah behind the ears. "Come on in. I need coffee."

He headed for the coffeemaker. She didn't wait for him to reach it. "You called Trudy Pruitt the day she was killed. Why?"

Son of a bitch. Not good.

"A little intense for this time of the morning, aren't we, Avery? It's not even eight."

"I asked you a question."

He filled the coffeemaker's carafe with water, then poured it into the reservoir. "Yeah, but you didn't ask it very nicely."

"I'm not playing a game here."

He turned, met her eyes. "She called me. I don't know why because she got my machine. I returned her call. That's it."

He measured dark roast into the filter, slid the basket into place and switched on the machine. That done, he crossed to stand directly in front of her. "And where, exactly, did you get that information? From Matt? Was he trying to poison your mind against me?"

"You don't need any help in that department."

"And here I thought you'd still respect me in the morning."

Angry color shot into her cheeks. "We talked about her, Hunter. You and I, we talked about her calls to me…that I was there that night. You never said anything. Do you have any idea how damning that looks?"

"I don't really care how it looks, Avery."

She curled her hands into fists. "You don't care, do you? You wear your indifference like some twisted badge of honor."

The coffeemaker gurgled; the scent of the brew filled the air. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"I was writing. She called, left a message. Truthfully, I didn't remember she was Dylan and Donny's mother. Not until later. I assumed she was calling about legal representation. Why else? Other than a vague recollection of the name, I didn't have a clue who she was. That's the truth, believe it if you want."

"Why didn't you mention she called, when we were talking about her? She was murdered, Hunter!"

He laid his hands on her shoulders. "What would it have brought to the equation? I never even spoke to the woman."

She shrugged off his hands. Took a step away. "You told me to get my proof, Hunter. I went there, to her trailer to look for it."

"When?" he asked, her words, the ramifications of them hitting him like a sledgehammer.

"Last night. Late."

He made a sound of disbelief. "Do you know how stupid that was, Avery? A woman was murdered there. What if the killer had come back? Looking for the same thing you were. Or to relive the kill?"

He pressed his point, seeing that it was having its intended effect-scaring her. "The percentage of killers who do just that is high, so high that police manuals suggest staking out a murder scene as an effective investigative strategy."

She looked shaken, but didn't back down. "I found your message. It's on her machine, okay? The woman saved it."

He thought of Matt. His brother was already hot to pin Elaine St. Claire's murder on him. Why not this murder as well?

He looked at the ceiling. "Shit."

"Care how things look now, Hunter?"

He swung away from her, crossed to the cupboard. He selected a mug, then filled it. Took a sip. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Was there anything else you wanted to grill me about this morning?"

She opened her mouth as if to answer, then shut it, turned and started for the door.

He followed her. "I take it you're not staying for coffee."

"Go to hell."

Careening out of control. Children screaming.

"Been there, done that."

Her steps faltered. She stopped but didn't turn.

He stood directly behind her, so close he could hear her breathing, smell the fruity shampoo she used. He longed to touch her. To coax her back into his arms. Tell her everything, anything that would convince her to stay.

"And that's supposed to make me feel what?" she asked softly, voice vibrating with emotion. "Sorry for you? You think there's anyone alive who hasn't experienced real pain? Personal tragedy?"

"I wasn't asking for your pity. I was being honest."

"Well, bully for you."

She pushed the screen door open. Stepped out into the alley. And ran smack-dab into Matt.

"Avery!" Matt caught her arm, steadying her. "What are you doing here?"

"Ask your brother." She glanced back at Hunter, standing at the door. "Maybe he'll give you a straight answer."

"I don't understand."

She shook her head, stood on tiptoe and kissed Matt's cneek. "Call me later, Matt. I've got to go."