My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 25

25

AFTER SYDNEY DROVE OFF, I sat alone in my car not wanting the memory of Sydney's visit to fade just yet—reliving the day over and over, able to still feel her in my arms. Finally, I started the engine and drove to my parent's house. As I slipped into Martha's darkened room, she turned her head and blasted me with a radiant smile that I could see even in the faint light.

"Hi," she whispered.

"What are you doing laying here in the dark?"

"I took a Percocet. I had therapy today."

"Are you okay?"

"Fair," she whispered. "I'm glad you came by. You need to straighten things out with Daddy."

I sat on the edge of the bed. "He's the least of my worries."

She exhaled slowly. "No, you need to."

"He doesn't care about me. He's just humiliated by this whole thing and wants me to get it straightened out. Quickly."

She reached out and gripped my arm. "He loves you, Richie."

"Ha!"

"He asked me to find out what was going on; if you were all right."

I turned to her. "Why can't he just ask me? Huh?"

"Richie! What happened to your face?"

I dropped down next to her on the bed and told her everything that had happened.

"For heaven sake," she said. "It's a wonder you weren't blinded."

"I'm okay."

She shifted her weight on the bed and groaned. "You have got to be more careful." Her voice was tense. "I'm proof enough that these kinds of people can be ruthless."

I exhaled. "Yeah, I'm starting to get the picture, but I think I'm onto something now."

She wiped a tear off her cheek and sighed. "What?"

"Something tells me that Ashleigh set this whole thing up."

"She what?"

I placed an arm under my head and explained about the house at the beach, Angie, the missing money, and the video cassette. "Ashleigh is most likely the one that stole that guy's money and—if she did—might have set her place up to look like she'd been murdered in order to get away with it."

Martha slapped her hand against the bed. "Damn! Why do I have to be trapped in this bed?"

I touched her arm. "What's wrong, Babe?"

She shifted her weight again. "If those people at the beach are into porn, they could be the same ones that did this to me, that are killing those girls."

"Jesus, Babe. I never thought of that."

She laid back and dropped an arm over her eyes. "I need to get a look at this place. Check out the occupants. Get fingerprints."

"I slipped in last night and got a video cassette, but Scott McGillikin has it now. No, wait!" I rolled up on my elbow. "It got smashed. I transferred the tape. I've still got the cassette it came in."

With her arm still over her eyes, she exhaled. "I want it. But don't touch it."

"I've already touched it. I had to take it apart."

"I still want to check it for prints."

"Okay, I'll bring it to you."

"Tomorrow, when you pick me up?"