After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 98
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After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 98

“It could be. But what does it mean?” she asked. “An SUV made in Korea?”

“The vehicle was unusual, probably. My guess is it wasn’t normally in the lot, or he wouldn’t have felt compelled to send the text. I’m guessing it might belong to your nightmare nurse, the one who dropped her earring.” He carried his cup to the sink and added it to a stack of breakfast dishes. “Why don’t we go talk to Rinko?”

She withered inside at the thought of returning to the hospital. She was certain to run into someone who would alert Dr. Sherling that she was on the premises.

“Come on,” Trent said, and he was already reaching for his jacket. “We’ll make the rounds. First to visit Jenna, assure her you’re all right, then to Rinko to have a little chat with him, see what else he might be able to tell us about the Santa Fe.”

“If that’s what it is.”

“Easy to find out.”

She recalled that Trent had been in military intelligence, though his stint in the army had lasted less than five years and had occurred before he’d met Cassie. “If I have to I can call one of the guys who was in the army with me. He ended up with his own detective agency. High tech. He has connections with the police.”

“Don’t tell my stepfather. He thinks everything should go through the proper channels.”

“For once I agree with Carter. That is, until the channels are clogged. After talking to Rinko, I think we’d better go to the police station to visit Nash and show off the fun gift that was left in your suitcase.”

Her good mood evaporated at the thought of seeing the detective. “Nash thinks I did it, you know. That somehow I made Allie disappear.”

“Maybe the mask will change her mind.”

“She’ll probably think I was behind it as well.”

“Maybe they can get some prints off it.”

“Let’s hope. But . . . let’s not let Mom know that someone was in my apartment and left it there. She’d freak.” She thought of Jenna and how she’d become paranoid for her children after the trauma that had occurred ten years earlier.

“She’s going to find out soon enough.”

“No . . . I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Then at least let me talk to Shane.”

“He’s not your biggest fan,” Cassie reminded him.

“I know, but let’s pull him in. He’s an ex-sheriff who still has major connections with the department. He can decide how much your mom can handle.”

She hesitated, but at least she knew she could trust her stepfather. Unlike Detective Nash, he didn’t think she was a suspect in her sister’s disappearance. “Deal.”

Trent smiled and gave her a wink. His grin was infectious and despite the trauma of recent days, Cassie returned it even though the last place on earth she wanted to be was anywhere near the Portland Police Department, well, unless you counted Mercy Hospital. But he had a point. “Okay,” she acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll go to the hospital and we’ll talk to Carter, but I’d like to avoid dealing with Detective Nash as long as possible. That woman has it in for me.”

Before he could argue, she added, “Just give me time to walk through the shower and change. Fifteen minutes and then we’ll go.”

“That’s my girl,” he said automatically, then caught himself.

His words burned in her brain. As cozy as being here with him had been, as comfortable as the ride from California had turned out to be, she was definitely not his girl or woman.

But she was still his wife.

The pregnancy test was negative.

Again.

Sitting on the edge of her bathtub, Jenna Hughes decided she was done with the whole baby-making idea. Maybe God was telling her that she was too old, that she should be satisfied that she had healthy children who now were grown women. For a second she thought of Allie, still missing, and Cassie, who had so recently been a patient in a mental ward. She clenched her hands into fists, worried enough about them and probably didn’t need a new baby in the mix.

Still, it was hard to accept.

Yes, she was no longer a young woman. She’d passed forty a few years earlier, but it was hard to give up the dream of sharing a child with Shane. Now, glancing in the mirror, she saw a feathering of small lines near her eyes that hadn’t been there a few years earlier, and there was more than one silvery thread stubbornly showing in her black hair.

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