Plain Pursuit. Alison Stone
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She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She glanced at Eli, then back at the door leading to the morgue. “I have to do this. Daniel’s my brother.”
Eli nodded. “Okay.” His hand slipped down to hers. He gave it a squeeze but didn’t let go. The small gesture gave her comfort. “Are you ready?”
Anna turned toward the morgue entrance, then back toward Eli. His features softened and the beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. The shield around her heart shifted a fraction. She had been alone for so long that she didn’t know how to rely on anyone.
“Let’s go.” Eli pushed open the door leading into a large room. The legs of the stainless steel tables came into view. Her focus shifted from the table legs to the gray linoleum at her feet. Cool, heavy air floated along the floor, licking at her ankles. Eli ran his thumb gently across the back of her hand. “Ready?”
Closing her eyes, she filled her lungs. Would anyone ever be ready to identify a loved one’s body? An image flickered across her brain. Her beloved mother, her long blond hair cascading over the pillow in the casket. The beautician had tried her best, she really had, but no one could do her mother’s makeup as well as her mother. She used to sit at her vanity every morning perfecting her hair and face, wanting to look beautiful for Father.
The mere thought stirred old fears and insecurities. Anna let go of Eli’s hand and crossed her arms. She drew her shoulders to her ears, trying to shake the chill.
“Anna?” Eli’s concerned voice broke through her trance. From one nightmare to another. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She forced herself to lift her eyes to the form draped in a white sheet. Her lips thinned into a straight line and she stifled a sob. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Eli nod to the only other man in the room. He peeled back the sheet, revealing her brother’s face. Bright fluorescent lights cast an unnatural pallor on his whiskered jaw. Darkness pushed on the periphery of her vision. Her heart raced.
Dear Lord, get me through this. Give me strength.
Anna slid her gaze across her brother’s features, allowing a numbness to dull the ache in her heart. Her brother’s cleft chin, the subtle bump in his nose—the one she shared—and the flat pane of his forehead. Cold, hard reality set in. Her big brother was dead.
Buzzing filled her ears. All the colors came into sharp focus. Blinking a few times, she struggled to concentrate on her brother through her watery gaze, knowing this would be the last time she’d ever see him. Tonight she’d sign the paperwork to have the funeral home pick up his body for cremation. Dear Lord, help me. After she cleaned out his apartment, she’d go back to Buffalo and inter him next to their mother.
“It’s him,” she croaked out. “That’s my brother, Daniel Quinn.” She turned and buried her face in Eli’s shoulder and cried, really cried, for the first time since she had received the news.
“Okay. It’s over now.” Eli made a soft hushing noise next to her ear, smoothing his hand down her hair.
“I’m sorry.” Anna lifted her face and brushed at her tears. Heat burned her cheeks. She had no business seeking comfort from this man. An FBI agent. A stranger. Cupping her cheeks, she stepped back.
“Let’s get the papers signed and get you out of here,” Eli said.
* * *
After Anna took care of the paperwork at the morgue, Eli guided her up the stairs to the main lobby. Before they reached the exit, a clamor came from down the hall. The double doors leading to another part of the hospital swung open, then bounced off the wall. A tall, well-dressed man strode in. His facial features contorted in obvious pain. He held on to a woman at her waist. Her wailing and sobbing scraped across Anna’s already fried nerves, and she froze by the stairwell to let them pass.
“Beth,” the man cooed in the woman’s ear. He ran a hand down her blond hair, pulling it back from her face. “Please,” the man pleaded, apparently unsure of how to handle the woman’s grief.
Eli put his arm around Anna’s shoulders and pulled her close. It seemed the most natural thing to lean into him. To accept the comfort he was offering. “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispered.
The woman stumbled forward. A groan escaped her lips. As her companion guided her toward the exit, her unfocused eyes drifted to Anna and Eli. Her head snapped up. “Who are you?” Her words slurred as if she had been drinking. She slapped at the tears trailing down her cheeks, wearing off her smooth foundation.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think you know me. I’m not from Apple Creek.” She struggled to keep her voice from shaking. Eli’s grip tightened around her shoulders.
“You’re his sister.” The coldness in the woman’s eyes chilled Anna to the bone.
“I’m sorry....” Anna swallowed hard, confusion clouding her brain.
“Mrs. Christopher,” Eli said, “now is not the time.”
“Get out of my face.” The woman pinned Eli with her steely gaze. The two apparently knew each other. With lightning speed, the woman reached out and brought her palm against Anna’s cheek with a resounding smack. “Your brother dragged my baby onto that plane. She wasn’t supposed to be there.” A tear dripped from her quivering chin.
“Mrs. Christopher, please, everyone is hurting here.” Eli tucked Anna behind him.
Anna’s mind whirled as she stood dumbfounded, her hand pressed to her stinging cheek. Her mouth worked but no words came.
Mrs. Christopher’s eyes narrowed into hateful slits. “My baby girl is in there.” She jabbed her long manicured finger toward the double doors but didn’t turn her head. “They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
“I am so sorry.” Anna’s chest grew heavy.
“You will be,” the woman said. “I will make sure of it. Your brother was reckless. He had been drinking. Someone saw him at the diner with a beer. Before he took my baby up in his plane.”
Anna’s heart stuttered. She struggled to catch her breath. The conversation seemed to wind down in slow motion. She slipped her hand around the crook of Eli’s arm, grateful for the support.
Eli led her past the grieving couple. The man—speaking for the first time—hollered after them. “Special Agent Miller—” disdain evident in his tone “—I suggest you keep Miss Quinn away from us. Her brother has destroyed my family.” He lowered his voice. “It would be best if she took care of her business and left Apple Creek immediately. Our family has suffered enough without her here as a constant reminder.”
“I wish Tiffany well,” Eli said, his voice tight. “Miss Quinn has experienced a terrible loss of her own. If you’ll excuse us.”
Anna locked gazes with Mr. Christopher. Fury shot from his eyes. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled to life, convincing her if she didn’t leave town, he’d make her wish she had.
* * *
Outside the hospital’s main entrance, a black limousine straddled the ramped pavement. Tom Hanson, the driver, leaned against the hood and read the newspaper under the artificial light, seemingly unaware he was being observed. The Christophers