Chapter 31

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Clara jolted awake from dreaming about Gracie's hand slipping out of hers. She laid still in Wayne's bed, trying to slow her panic when quiet voices downstairs broke through her fog of sleep. Never before had Motrin knocked her out, especially when she wanted to stay awake in case they found Gracie. She rolled to her side, groaning at her muscles protesting any movement. Her tiredness had to be a reaction to the head injury she suffered in the accident making it hard to keep her eyes open.

She pushed into a sitting position and hesitated, gathering her breath.

Her wrist throbbed, and she rubbed the joint, surprised that her arm ached worse than the mild headache that'd plagued her since the accident. She stood and closed her eyes when the room swayed. Officer Taylor was no longer in the bedroom, and she had no idea how long she'd slept. The last thing she remembered was hearing it was almost six o'clock in the evening.

Holding her arm against her chest, she stepped away from the bed testing her weak legs. She made it to the door and walked across the hallway to the bathroom. When her ass hit the toilet, she trembled in relief. She was weak, almost like she'd been drugged and sleeping for days. Unable to shake the disassociated feeling, she finished using the toilet, washed her hands, wincing again at the dull pain in her wrist. There wasn't a mark on her hand or arm.

She dragged her feet down the hallway and gingerly stepped down on the stairs. Confident she could make it all the way into the living room, she held on to the banister with her unhurt hand. At the bottom, she huffed to gain her breath back.

"Clara?" Officer Taylor walked toward her. "Are you sure you want to be out of bed? Wayne wanted you to rest."

"My sister? Has anyone heard anything?" she asked.

"Come sit down before you fall down, and we'll talk. You're shaking." The officer pointed to the couch. "You've been sleeping really hard. Only stirring when I wake you every two hours."

She stepped to the couch and held onto the back. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. Can you please sit down?" Officer Taylor put her hand on Clara's arm and led her to the front of the couch. "We've got news to share with you."

Clara's body stiffened, and she grabbed on to the officer's arm. Her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn't go on without Gracie. She had to be okay. "About my sister?"

Officer Taylor's gaze softened. "Your sister has been found."

"She's alive?" she said, exhaling harshly.

"Yes, very much alive."

The fear she'd been holding inside of her boiled out faster than she could contain her emotions. She sagged forward, every ache forgotten, and cried hard, unable to control the sobs rendering her body and mind useless.

Gracie was alive. That's all that mattered.

"Where...?" She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the relief.

"She's at St. John's Hospital and in surgery right now. She's going to be fine." Officer Taylor held up her hand. "Her wrist is broken and..."

Officer Taylor's voice faded. Clara looked down at her hand laying in her lap, limp and aching. She should've known.

When she broke her leg falling off her bike as a child, Gracie had an unexplained limp for the six weeks Clara had been in a cast, though nothing was wrong with Gracie's leg. When Gracie had an ear infection, it was Clara who'd ran the fever and cried into her pillow. By the time they were twelve years old, they had taken sharing each other's pain as a normal part of life and never questioned why it happened.

"I need to go to her." Clara wiped her cheeks. "Can you take me?"

Officer Geary stepped forward. "The best thing for you to do is take care of yourself. The doctors are taking care of your sister. You're still recuperating—"

"Where's Wayne?" Her chest seized, and she pushed herself off the couch. "I need to talk with him."

Officer Geary looked at his partner. Clara looked at both of them. Her eyes stung, her mouth dried, and her body hurt. Wayne had gone out searching for Gracie. He'd found her. Then, where was he?

"He's at the police station, and they're questioning him." Officer Taylor brows lowered. "Our shift ended at eleven o'clock, but we've told Wayne we'll stay with you through the night."

"What do you mean, they're questioning him?" She fingered the bandage on her head, trying to ease the pounding. "Why? Did they catch the man who kidnapped Gracie, too?"

"He's dead," said Officer Geary. "He can't hurt any more people."

She'd given Wayne the information about the man who'd killed her mom. Had she been right and it was the same man who took Gracie? Her stomach rolled. She'd asked him to kill the murderer. Everything that she and Gracie had planned came to fruition before Wayne left her at the house. She'd told him the truth. She'd outright asked him to kill and offered him money.

She knew something would go wrong.

The officers promised her Gracie would recover. Right now, she had to go save Wayne from being arrested.

"Please, take me to him." She moved to the stairs and remembered she was at Wayne's house, she had no change of clothes, and even her purse was missing. Turning around, she looked at them expectantly. "Please or call a cab...something. I need to go to the police station."

Officer Geary removed his radio off the loop on his shirt and walked into the kitchen. The female officer approached Clara. She held herself perfectly still, proving to herself she'd be fine. No one could talk her out of going. If the police had questions, she could answer every single one. Wayne would not take the fall for something she'd orchestrated.

She got her sister back. That's all that mattered. She owed Wayne everything for what he'd done for her.