Ryan cleared the house, he found her dutifully waiting in the foyer, which surprised him.

Arms crossed, again she arched a brow—and a lovely, well-defined brow, at that. “Well? Find anyone suspicious?”

He tucked his weapon away. She would already know if he had. “Funny.” He lifted her duffel, but she held her briefcase close. “Where do you want me to put this?”

“On the bed in the master bedroom. Sarah’s room.” Anxiety edged her words.

He moved down the hallway with Tori on his heels, glad she’d allowed him to help her if only a little. Her shoulder must be still be bothering her.

In Sarah’s warmly decorated room, a pang struck his heart. He could only imagine what sleeping in her sister’s room would do to Tori. When given the choice, Tori had chosen the guest bedroom to begin with. Interesting that the burglar hadn’t been in Sarah’s room searching but had instead been in the room where Tori was staying. He would keep that tidbit to himself for the time being.

He set the duffel on Sarah’s bed, grief weighing on him. When he turned to face Tori, he caught her staring at the photographs neatly hung on the wall.

“Might as well start here,” he said. “See anything missing?”

“I haven’t been in her room yet. I... I was avoiding this moment, and now I’m in here looking at her stuff under completely different circumstances than I’d imagined. I thought I’d be packing up her things, not looking for anything that might be missing so we can figure out who broke in and if he’s her killer.”

He held back a sigh. “I know it’s hard. You can do this.”

She drew in a breath and stood taller, then gave him a look that said he needed to dial the reassurances and platitudes down. “I know I can do it, Ryan.”

Her way of telling him she didn’t need his encouragement. Or rather, she didn’t want it. He wanted to argue that everyone needed encouragement, especially under circumstances like these, but he doubted Tori would be willing to listen. She prided herself too much on her ability to stand on her own two feet.

She didn’t stay in Sarah’s room long. He followed her through the house as she gave everything a once-over and then they ended up in the attic. Sarah had filled it with a few old boxes—memorabilia from school—but that was all.

Finally Tori finished her search in the kitchen. She shrugged. “I didn’t see anything missing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t.”

Her staying in this house didn’t sit well with him. “Look, are you sure you want to stay?”

She nodded. “If there’s something to be discovered here, I’ll find it by staying.”

He wouldn’t convince her otherwise. “Before I leave, I’ll board up the broken window until you can get the glass replaced.”

“Thanks, Ryan, but Dad is coming over this afternoon to do that now that you’ve released the scene.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” He squeezed the keys in his pocket—Sarah’s house keys that he should give back to Tori. But he held on to them for now. “At least give your parents’ suggestion a thought. Go back to your job. Years ago, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. Remember? Go back and let your parents come and visit with you for a while, and then see what happens. If they move, they move. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you’ll all be safer there.” And if she left, then she wouldn’t be staying in this house. She wouldn’t be here in northern California to be targeted again.

“Are you kidding me? My job there keeps me busy around the clock.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have time for them.”

“Maybe it would be a good idea to be back at work so you can get your mind on other matters.” And let him solve this. But he was hoping for too much.

“That’s not going to happen. I can’t stop thinking about finding who killed Sarah.” She opened the fridge. “You want a soda or something?”

He let his gaze roam through the kitchen, dining and living area again. He knew this whole house well by now, after spending last night searching for a clue in the quaint home.

Ryan suddenly realized Tori was staring at him, Coke in hand. He took it, though he wasn’t really thirsty. “I know I can’t stop you from doing your own investigation. But remember, you’re not even a licensed private investigator. This isn’t an FBI investigation.”

“Get real.”

“Exactly. I’m under no illusion that you’re going to stop. I’m only going to ask you to be careful. You could ruin my investigation. Mess with evidence. Keep me from putting this person away.”

She came across to plop on the sofa with her Coke. “Don’t worry, you and I will be investigating on very different paths.”

He fisted his hands. “Still think you’re going to find this killer on your own while I’m off on a wild-goose chase?”

Opening her laptop, she popped the Coke top, and fizz nearly overflowed to her computer.

“Careful!” He quickly snatched a towel from her kitchen and tossed it her way.

“Thanks.” She cleaned up the mess, drank the Coke and eyed him. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“My investigation is not even good enough to be on your radar, is that it?” Could he just shut up? Why did she seem to push all the wrong buttons? Or right buttons, depending on one’s perspective.

“It’s not a question of your skills or abilities. I just have insight into Sarah that you can’t match. I’m going to walk in her steps in a way you and your team could never do. That’s all.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fine. Make sure you share with me when you find something.”

“You’ve already told me that I’m not on your team.”

He sighed and softened his next words. “Let’s put aside our...competition, for lack of a better word... And find Sarah’s killer before he can get away.”

To his surprise, Tori set her Coke on the coffee table,

Вы читаете Target on the Mountain
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