The Last Sister (Columbia River)(76)

Zander went still. Emily believes Tara was involved.

“Go to hell.” Tara shook off Emily’s grip. “Remember what I said. You didn’t see me or Bella.” She strode out of the room.



“What is she hiding?” Emily asked.

Zander was hesitant to voice the theory that had festered in his thoughts since they’d left Beaverton. They were nearly back to the coast. “I think she believes someone else killed your father.”

Emily was silent.

“And she believes this same person killed your mother. Whether or not she is correct, she believes it’s true.”

“I don’t know how reliable she is,” Emily said. “I smelled alcohol on her, and she admitted she has a drinking problem. She’s a tightly wound person, and I don’t remember her being that way. Thank God she has Wendy to help care for Bella.”

“Her mother-in-law reminds me of a warden. I wasn’t surprised when she refused to let us speak to Tara again and then pushed us out the door.”

He watched Emily with his peripheral vision as he drove. She was thoughtful, quiet. Not her usual outspoken self. “You told me Tara was there the night your father died, but she told the police she wasn’t there.”

“Correct. I saw her there with another person.”

“Was your father already hanged when you saw Tara?”

Her shoulders quaked ever so briefly. “Yes.”

“And she repeated her story again today that she wasn’t there.” He paused, trying to frame his next question. “Is it possible your memory is wrong?”

Her lips worked, and she turned to look out the window. “I’ve asked myself that a million times over twenty years. Part of what kept me from telling the police what I saw was the thought that I was wrong and also that I didn’t want Tara in trouble. But even if my memory is wrong, there’s something Tara is hiding about Dad’s death.”

“Your mother committed suicide a few days after Tara left, right?”

“Yes. I’ve always wondered if Tara even knew that Mom had died.”

“Who handled your mother’s investigation?” asked Zander.

Emily faced straight ahead, her mouth in a frown. “I assume the Clatsop County sheriff. They were already working Dad’s murder. I’ve never asked.” She exhaled. “I didn’t want to ask,” she added softly.

Zander understood. Digging up the past was painful. He avoided it as much as possible.

Emily’s back stiffened. “The traffic lights are out.” They’d just turned onto the main road through Bartonville.

“Not surprised,” said Zander as he watched small branches and debris blow across the road. It’d been a windy drive all the way across the Coast Ranges, but once they’d neared Bartonville, he’d noticed that the tops of the fir trees waved in a frenzy. “At least the rain has stopped.” The gray clouds were high, not threatening to dump more water.

“The church’s power is out, and so is the post office’s,” Emily said as they passed through town. “Take me to the diner instead of the mansion. If anyone still has power, it’s the diner.”

“How come?”

“We didn’t ever spend money on cameras, but a decade ago Vina invested in an excellent power backup system. She said people will always need to eat, especially if they can’t cook in their own homes. The system has paid for itself a few times over.”

Zander turned into the parking lot and saw Emily was right. The lights were on in the diner, and the lot had more cars than he’d ever seen there. “I guess I’ll get a cup of coffee and sandwich to go,” he told her. “Hopefully they still have power at the county sheriff’s office.”

“It’s busy. The diner will need my help.”

“How are you feeling?” He scanned her from head to toe.

“Pretty darn good. I took more medication when we left Tara’s house.”

He was skeptical but didn’t argue.

He parked and followed her inside. Most of the seats were full as Thea and Vina worked the floor, scuttling from table to table. Dory was nowhere in sight. He didn’t see many people eating, but everyone had coffee and appeared settled in to wait out the storm. The mood inside was chipper, the storm now a social event.

Emily pointed at the kitchen door. “Go tell Leo I said to make you something to go. I need to get to work.”

“Stick close to other people.”

She gave him a blank look that was immediately replaced with one of understanding—and apprehension. An abrupt nod followed, and she headed toward her office.

She already forgot that someone shot at her yesterday?

Zander crossed the floor and hesitantly pushed open the swinging door, feeling like an intruder.

From behind the grill, Leo spotted him immediately. “Hey, Zander,” said the bald cook.

“I dropped Emily off. She said you’d make me something to go?”

“You bet. A BLT okay?”

“Perfect.”

A sizzle sounded as Leo lay bacon on the flat top. Zander’s mouth watered.

“There’s some to-go cups next to the coffee maker,” Leo told him.

Zander grabbed a cup and poured a huge cup of coffee. He was pressing on the lid when Isaac touched his arm. He jerked, nearly spilling the cup. The teenager had approached as silently as a cat.