Deadly Evidence. Elizabeth Goddard

       FOUR

      The morning sun broke through the crack between the drapes, startling Tori awake and away from the grips of her nightmare. Heart pounding, she bolted upright and reached for her weapon—but it was gone.

      Just calm down. She drew in a few long breaths. They’d taken her gun to look for fingerprints.

      It took her a breath or two to remember that she was in her old bedroom in her parents’ home—the home where she and Sarah had grown up. Mom hadn’t changed much in the room. She’d taken down the posters of teenage idols and replaced them with Scripture-laced nature pictures. Tidied up the room a bit and, oh, replaced Tori’s bed with a smaller twin bed. No wonder she hadn’t slept all that well. She was accustomed to spreading out in the queen-size bed she’d purchased for her apartment back home.

      Home.

      And just where was home exactly? Was it here in California or was it back in South Carolina? She pushed aside the complicated musings—too much to think about at seven in the morning.

      She eased back down in bed, surprised her mind had finally let her sleep. She tried to recall the nightmare, but nothing clear came to mind and she was grateful she couldn’t remember. Still, the dream had left her unsettled. Her shoulder ached, and even itched a little. That was good. That meant it was healing.

      The aroma of bacon and eggs pulled her all the way out of bed. She might as well get up to face the day. She slipped into comfy sweats and a T-shirt and meandered down the hallway with a yawn, then made her way to the kitchen, where she found Dad cooking breakfast.

      He glanced up from frying bacon. “Hey, sleepyhead.” No matter that she was in her thirties and was an FBI agent, he still talked to her like she was his little girl. Tori wasn’t sure she would have it any other way.

      “Morning.” She wouldn’t add the word “good.” Nothing about it was good. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured the rich dark coffee blend they all preferred. Tori breathed it in as she shoved onto a tall seat at the counter.

      Dad smiled as he moved bacon from the pan to a plate, but despite the smile, a persistent, aching sadness poured from his gaze, and that, she understood completely. Her heart ached with the pain of loss they all shared.

      She took a drink of coffee, hoping her thoughts would come together. “Dad, you don’t have to cook me breakfast. Or even sound cheery for my sake. We’re all still shaken over what happened. It’s going to take us a long time to get over...” She couldn’t even say her sister’s name.

      He plated the eggs to go with the bacon and set the dish on the counter in front of her. “You’re still alive and with us, Tori. I intend to make the best of every moment with you. You need your energy, so eat up.”

      Tori obliged and crunched on a bacon strip. “Where’s Mom?”

      “She went to the store to grab orange juice.”

      Tori’s favorite. Mom had done that for her. Oh, man. She sighed. This was going to be a long day. While on the one hand she appreciated what her parents were doing, she knew they would smother her if she let them. Hadn’t the whole reason she’d come back to stay for a while been to comfort them? Still, maybe they could all comfort each other. Tori knew she often wasn’t willing to admit when she needed emotional support. But maybe this time she should give in to it. Their encouragement could very well sustain her through trying to find Sarah’s killer.

      Tori heard the sound of the front door opening, then closing, and in rushed her mother with a few plastic sacks of groceries. She set them on the counter and smiled at Tori—that same pain was raw and unfiltered behind her gaze.

      “That looks like more than orange juice,” Tori said.

      “Well, you know how it is. You go in for one thing and leave having spent a hundred dollars more than you intended.” Mom poured juice into a glass and sat it in front of Tori. “Drink up.”

      Tori finished the eggs and bacon and drank the juice while her father ate his breakfast quietly and Mom cleaned up the mess he’d made. Tori carried both their plates over to the sink, rinsed them and then stuck them in the dishwasher. She turned to find her mother wiping down the counter.

      Still no words. No one knew what to say.

      “Thanks, Mom. Thank you both, but you don’t have to do this.”

      Mom’s eyes teared up as she shrugged. “What? What are we doing? We almost lost you, too.”

      Dad gave Tori a warning look, as if she’d said something wrong. Truth was, anything she said would be the wrong thing.

      Tori rushed around the counter and hugged her mom. “I’m sorry,” she said.

      Dad hugged them both. As warm and comforting as the embrace was, it was also steeped in sadness. She could drown in all this grief, and she had to somehow stay afloat.