Evidence Of Marriage. Ann Voss Peterson
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leaving on your honeymoon tomorrow. She won’t have to worry about it. At least not for a few weeks.”
“If I can convince her to go.”
“She has to go.”
He shrugged. “You know Sylvie. She’s worried about you.”
Diana shook her head. Her sister’s concern for her would be touching, if Diana weren’t guilty of bringing this evil into Sylvie’s life in the first place. “I’ll be fine.”
He gave a shallow nod, as if he wasn’t so sure.
“Trust me. I can take care of myself this time. You and Sylvie have a baby to think about.”
He nodded, but again, his agreement wasn’t convincing.
She knew he was remembering last October, when he and Sylvie had saved her from becoming the victim of a grief-stricken man’s revenge. But that wasn’t all that had happened during that time. There had been more. Far more. “You’re thinking of your brother.”
“I promised him… I promised myself that I’d find his killer. Kane waving this Copycat Killer in our faces is a little hard to take.”
Diana nodded. She knew Bryce believed the man who’d killed three women last fall was also responsible for his brother’s death. “Sylvie needs you. And she doesn’t need to be worrying about Dryden Kane.”
He held up a hand. “I know. Believe me, my priorities are in order.”
“What did the doctor say? You know, about her heart condition?” As a child, Sylvie had suffered from heart problems, the reason she had been left behind in the foster-care system while Diana had been adopted. In the year since they’d been reunited, Sylvie hadn’t had any health problems, but that didn’t mean the extra stress of dealing with Dryden Kane piled on top of her pregnancy wasn’t a recipe for disaster.
“He said she should avoid extra stress. And I aim to make sure she takes that advice.”
The bathroom door opened and Sylvie stepped out into the hall. Her cheeks looked flushed, her eyes a bit glassy. “If the two of you are done deciding my future, why don’t we see what is in that package?”
Bryce cupped her elbow gently in one hand and searched her face. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
She shot him a resigned frown. “I’m pretty sure I’m not up to it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to see what he sent. I’m sure my heart can take that much.”
“I didn’t mean anything by that.” God knew that of the two of them, Sylvie was the strong one. Diana had only to think back to that cabin in the woods for proof.
“I know. You’re just watching out for me. What families do, right?” Sylvie offered a smile. “I’m still getting used to that.”
“Yeah. What families do.” Diana took a deep breath, trying to quell the nervous fear fluttering through her chest and stomach. After all she’d been through in that cabin last fall, she’d sworn she would never be a victim again. She’d be more like her sister. Strong. Independent. And eight months later, she finally felt as if she were making some progress. She’d completed her master’s degree and had landed a job teaching English literature that would start in the fall. After a lifetime of depending on others, she’d learned a bit about standing on her own.
She sucked in another breath. If Sylvie was willing to face whatever was in the package, so was she. “Okay. Let’s open the thing.”
She led Bryce and Sylvie into the living room. Bryce and Sylvie took their places on the couch. Diana propped a hip on the couch’s arm. Grabbing the corner of the gift wrap, Sylvie tore a corner of the paper free and slid out a simple black frame holding a family portrait. A father, a mother and two little girls around three years old smiled for the camera. Soft blond hair curled around the girls’ nearly identical faces. One of the girls cradled a clown puppet. The other tangled her fingers together in her lap, her face chalky and frail-looking. The mother held her blond head high, her lips pressed into a commanding smile. The father stood behind the three, staring directly into the camera with ice-blue eyes.
The perfect family. The family of serial killer Dryden Kane.
“It’s us,” whispered Sylvie. “My God, it’s us.”
Diana stared at the portrait, a mixture of heat and nerves descending into her chest. “I’m so sorry, Sylvie.”
“For what?”
“For bringing him into your life.” She rubbed her forehead with shaking fingers. “What was I thinking? When I found out he was my father, why couldn’t I have just left well enough alone? Why did I have to see him in the first place?”
“Because you needed to know where you came from. You needed to understand who you were.”
“Which is what?” The daughter of a serial killer? Her mind shuddered at the thought.
“Which is my sister.” Sylvie touched her hand to Diana’s arm, her trembling fingers belying the steadiness in her voice. “Sometimes we just need to know. No matter what the consequences. I would have done the same thing, Diana. You know that.”
She did. But that didn’t make her feel any less responsible. “I have to stop him.”
Bryce looked from one sister to the other, worry heavy on his brow. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. But I know who might.” She forced a breath into aching lungs. Although eight months had passed since she’d given him back his ring, the pain pulsing behind her eyes made it feel like yesterday. “I’m going to take the portrait and card to Reed.”
Sylvie thrust to her feet. “I’ll go with you.”
Diana held out a palm as if that would hold Sylvie in place. “You have a baby to worry about.”
“I’m pregnant, not crippled.”
“No, but you’re sick.”
She gave a shrug, as if morning sickness were nothing. But the pale sheen to her skin told the real story.
“And you don’t want that baby to get sick. Besides, you still have guests to deal with. The last thing we need is to have Lisa storming back, demanding answers.”
Sylvie opened her mouth to protest, but Bryce cut her off. “We’ll take care of Lisa. Tell Reed to call me.”
“Of course.”
Sylvie pressed her lips together in a frown. Finally she nodded and gave Diana’s arm a squeeze. “We’re in this together, Diana. Remember that.”
Diana nodded. They were in this together. Whether Sylvie deserved to be or not. And now it was Diana’s turn to contribute—to bring what she’d started to an end.
“TELL ME THAT’S SYLVIE.”
Reed McCaskey glanced up from the reports scattering the table he and his partner Nikki Valducci had commandeered at the Easy Street Café.
A young woman pushed through the café door and scanned the worn Formica tables and coffee-sipping crowd. From her cascading blond hair and light blue eyes to the soft line of her cheeks that made him ache to protect her, she hadn’t changed. And although she and her sister were identical, there was no doubt in his mind which twin he was looking at. He could feel her presence in the churning of his blood. “It’s Diana.”
His day had started with being kicked out of his office in the City County Building after inmates in the sixth-floor jail had spent the night stuffing whatever they could find down the toilets until sewage had backed up in the first-floor police station. With the station so pungent it had brought tears to his eyes, he’d traded that smell for the burned-coffee-and-stale-grease aroma of the Easy Street Café. At least until the cleanup crew had a chance to do