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.“Did anyone see him in the area?”“We don’t have any witnesses, but we’re still working on finding out where he bought the jack plane and trying to learn everything we can about the dolls.”“Did the DNA…”“The hair samples match two of the victims, yes.”I took a deep breath.“Do you think I’m in danger?”“We want to make sure you’re safe—that’s why there’s a car on the street—but every time he’s made a threat it’s been aimed at other people, never at you.If he comes after you or your family, the dialogue will stop.”Outside on the front step I said, “I can’t believe she’s dead.This is just so awful.” I blinked back tears.“I’m sorry, Sara.I know how much you wanted a happy ending for Danielle.Trust me—I did too.” His voice was tense and frustrated.He rested both hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.“You have to shake this off and focus on how we’re going to stop him.It’s the only thing we can do for Danielle now.”Billy still had one hand gripping my shoulder when we heard a car come ripping down the driveway, radio blasting.Billy stepped away from me immediately.As soon as I saw the car I said, “It’s my sister.”Melanie smirked through the window as she parked in front.Billy walked toward his SUV.As he passed by Melanie she said, “Howdy, Officer.What’s your hurry?”He gave her a big smile and a wink.“Oh, you know, catching bad guys.Boring things like that.” He stopped at his truck door and over the hood of the SUV said, “I’ll let you know about the other pieces tomorrow, Sara.”“Sure, no problem.”As he drove off with a honk of his horn, Melanie sauntered up the front steps and raised her eyebrows.I rolled my eyes, turned, and walked into the house.This time I didn’t wait for her innuendos.“God, Melanie, I am not messing around with Billy.He’s a client and a friend.I’m in love with Evan and marrying him, remember?” I walked to the kitchen with Melanie hot on my heels.“I remember, but I’m not sure your friend Billy does.He’s into you.”I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee but didn’t offer her one, hoping she’d leave soon.“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.You’ve seen him twice and both times he was flirting with you.”“But I’m not the one he likes.” She shrugged.“Look, I don’t know why he’d be into you either, but he is.” She sat at the kitchen table.“Nice.And he’s not ‘into me.’ What are you doing here anyway?” I leaned against the counter.“You said you’d talk to Evan about Kyle playing at the wedding?”I slapped my forehead.“Oh, crap.I didn’t get a chance this weekend and—”“Of course you didn’t.That’s why I brought you one of his CDs.” She took one out of her purse and set it on the table.“I’ll try to listen to it.”“Why do you have to try? Why can’t you just say, Sure, Melanie, I’d love to?”“Why are you always picking fights with me?”She said, “Because you’re always looking down on me.”I shook my head and opened my mouth to tell her she needed to get over herself.Then I remembered there was a dead girl.A girl who had a sister named Anita who pleaded on TV last night for her return.“I’ll listen to the CD.” I glanced at my shop door.“But I have a lot to do, so…”“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” I didn’t try to stop her when she got up and headed to the door.I just followed behind and stood on the steps, waiting for the parting shot.At her car she turned and said, “You should go see Mom sometime.Or did you forget about her too?”“I’ve been really busy.”“You haven’t gone over in a long time.”Guilt spread through me and was quickly followed by anger.Melanie didn’t have a clue what was going on in my life—she never had.“Worry about your own relationships, okay?”She slammed her car door and backed up, spraying gravel all over the driveway.After she left I walked inside and slammed my door behind me.I checked my cell, but no calls.I didn’t even know what I’d say to John if he did call.* * *I was going to phone Lauren and bitch about Melanie, mostly because I couldn’t talk about what was really bothering me, then decided to wait until Greg was back in camp.I know, me waiting—what a shocking concept.But it’s not the same talking to her when he’s home.Lauren got together with Greg when she was so young, I wonder sometimes if she missed out.But she usually seems happy and doesn’t complain about him, so I guess it doesn’t matter what age they met.Then again, Lauren never says if something’s bothering her unless I hound her, and even then it’s like pulling teeth to get her to talk about it.I asked her why once, holding back being so completely foreign to my own nature, and she said she doesn’t like to dwell on the negative parts of life.I wish I could say the same.Maybe then I could forget that a woman is dead because of me.Maybe then I could forgive myself.At this point I’d settle for forgetting.But my guilt is like a canker sore in my mouth and I can’t stop my tongue from running over it and over it and over it again.SESSION THIRTEENI’d like to say I’m doing better.Mostly because I love the way you smile when I tell you things worked out or that something you said helped.A lot of what you and I talk about does help.But lately stuff is coming at me so fast and furious I don’t have time to get over one thing before I’m thrown headfirst into the next.Every day I Google Danielle’s name to see if there’s another article.Her family started a memorial Web site and I can’t stop looking at her photos and reading the little facts that made up her life.She was supposed to be a bridesmaid in her friend’s wedding this summer and they’d just had their dresses fitted.I cried, thinking of her dress hanging in a closet somewhere.You asked if I might be obsessing about the victims because I’m trying to come to terms with my own worst fears of losing my daughter, but I don’t think that’s it.I don’t know why I put myself into Danielle’s pain, why I conjure poignant images, each more painful than the last.Why I can’t stop wanting to know everything about her life.You taught me years ago that we can’t choose how we feel about something; we can just choose how we deal with those feelings.But sometimes even when you have a choice, the things you’re choosing between are so horrible it doesn’t feel like much of a choice at all.* * *Saturday morning I was at the grocery store with Ally when my cell finally rang.I didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was BC.I answered with a cautious, “Hello?”“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”I stopped in the middle of the aisle as fear gripped tight around my chest.A few paces in front of me, Ally was pushing a small buggy, with her red purse slung over her shoulder.She stopped and examined a bag of pasta, her lips pursed.I said, “No, I didn’t.”“Why?”I thought about Danielle.If I didn’t say the right thing I might be next.My face felt hot and my vision blurred.I forced myself to take a breath.I had to sound calm—had to keep him calm.“I was being cautious.You hurt people, and—”“She’s my granddaughter!”Ally wheeled her cart back toward me.I pressed the phone against my chest.“Sweetie, why don’t you go to the end and pick out some cereal?” She loves examining all the boxes for their various prizes.Picks one, puts it back, picks another.Normally I hated it.John said, “Is she with you right now?”Crap.He heard me.“We’re grocery shopping
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