The Silent Sister(35)

“It sounds like Lisa was beyond help,” I said.

“Yeah. That happens.” Her bangs had flopped over her forehead again, and she looked at me from beneath them. “Mom told me you didn’t know and you found some articles about it. That must have been a shock.”

“It was,” I said. “It still is.”

“Well,” she said, getting to her feet again. “Hopefully that’ll be the last shock you have as we clean out the house.”





16.



“You look like shit,” Tom Kyle said as he sat down across from me in the waiting room at Suzanne Compton’s office the following morning. I’d run to the attorney’s office from home and knew my face glistened with perspiration under my visor. It was the first time I’d seen Tom out of his T-shirt and camo pants. He’d shaved, combed his sparse gray hair, put on khakis and a blue short-sleeved dress shirt. But the clothes hadn’t seemed to change his ornery disposition, and I wished my father had left him absolutely nothing. I thought of him cheating on Verniece, maybe even putting some high-level government work at risk when he did so. What my father had liked enough about this man to help him cover up his affair was beyond me.

I wanted to say something snotty to him in response to his crack about the way I looked, but I needed more information from him and didn’t think that was the way to go about getting it. If he knew why Verniece was stuck on me being adopted, I wanted to know, and if he knew why my father gave him those checks every month—and left him the pipe collection—I wanted to know that, too. I decided to play on his sympathy, hoping that beneath that rough exterior, he actually had some.

“I know,” I said, aiming for a self-deprecating smile. “My life is kind of a mess right now.”

He studied me from beneath his bushy gray eyebrows. “Your father left you a lot to deal with,” he said.

I nodded. “And I just feel really alone.” I rubbed my palms on my damp thighs. “It’s overwhelming.”

I thought I saw sympathy in his face, but it was quickly replaced by his usual scowl.

“That brother of yours is more a hindrance than a help, I take it,” he said.

“Well, he has his own problems to deal with.”

Tom glanced at the reception desk. Suzanne’s secretary wasn’t at her desk, and although we were alone in the waiting room, he still lowered his voice. “You ever think he’s a suicide risk, like your sister?” he asked. “We hear gunshots coming from down there sometimes and Verniece gets worried. She wants to go check on him, but I say it’s best we leave him alone.”

That sounded like Verniece, worrying about other people. “My sister’s situation was totally different,” I said. “Danny won’t hurt himself … or anyone else, either, so Verniece doesn’t need to be concerned. He’s just hunting out there.” I wondered if Tom knew the real reason Lisa had killed herself. Probably. Steven Davis’s murder had been such a big deal in the news back then. I thought Danny and I had been the only people kept in the dark about what really happened.

“Well,” Tom said, “let me know if we can do anything else to help with the RV park.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s our home, you know,” he said. “We’ve lived there more than twenty years and I’m not sure where we’ll go once you sell it.”

He stared at me so intently that I had to turn away. There was something other than kindness in his offer of help, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Hello, Riley.” Suzanne walked into the waiting room, hand outstretched toward me. “And you must be Mr. Kyle.”

We both shook her hand, then followed her into her office where we sat nearly side by side across the desk from her.

“Riley,” she said, scrutinizing me from her side of the desk, “are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I must have looked even worse than I’d imagined. I wanted to get back to the house. Christine and Jeannie were again culling through my family’s possessions, and it felt strange to leave them there alone. Christine’s rough edges were beginning to chafe me. She was impatient and not exactly a diplomat when assessing my family’s old possessions.

“Okay,” Suzanne said, getting down to business. “I’ve drawn up this document transferring ownership of the pipe collection to you, Mr. Kyle. Have you had it appraised yet, Riley?”

I nodded. “The appraiser thinks it’s worth about seventeen thousand.” I watched Tom’s face, but it was impossible to read. I’d just told him he was seventeen thousand dollars richer and he seemed unmoved. “How do we do it?” I asked. “I mean, do I deliver the pipes to him, or—”

“I think it’s best if Mr. Kyle comes over and packs them up and takes them away. They’re his now.”

We talked with Suzanne awhile longer, signed a couple of documents, and then walked quietly out of her office together. Once outside, I saw his old Ford in the driveway.

“Don’t take everything so hard, Riley,” he said as he walked away from me toward his car.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut and kept walking. He was backing out of the driveway by the time I reached the sidewalk, and he suddenly called to me through his open car window.