F Wilson - Sibs

Feeling slightly queasy, Kara went to the big dresser and pulled the two bottom drawers all the way out and set them on the floor. Laid out in the space under the drawers was an array of slit-sided leather skirts and low-cut blouses.

As she stared at the tawdry outfits, Kara felt a terrible sadness for her sister.

What were you looking for, Kelly? What on God's earth did you think was missing from your life that you had to go looking for it dressed up in this… this shit!

The sadness gave rise to anger. Why hadn't Kelly come to her if she was having a problem? Didn't she think she could rely on her own twin? Why hadn't Kelly sought her out instead of pulling away?

Or had she pulled away because of the problem?

Kara stood up and scanned the ransacked bedroom. Maybe she'd never know. But there had to be a reason Kelly would buy these tramp outfits and hide them—

Wait a minute.

Hide them? Why on earth would Kelly hide her trashy clothes under her dresser and night stand?

Kelly lived alone.

This didn't make any sense at all. Kara had been through all the closets, all the drawers. Everything belonged to Kelly. Nobody else was living here. Just Kelly.

From whom was Kelly hiding these clothes?

▼

It was around lunch time then, and Jill was hungry. Kara cooked up a packet of Upton's chicken noddle soup she found in one of the kitchen cabinets and she and Jill settled down to a couple of bowls with some Ritz crackers. Kara wasn't in the mood for anything heavier.

Afterwards, she pulled Rob's card from her purse. This was as good a time as any to give him a call.

On the third ring, he answered with, "Harris."

"Rob? It's Kara Wade."

"Wh—? Kara? Hello! Good to hear from you. Everything okay down there?"

Down there. He thought she was in Pennsylvania. Good. Let him go on thinking that. If he knew she was here in the city he'd want to get together with her for dinner or the like and Kara didn't think that was such a good idea. Not with Jill along.

"As well as can be expected."

"The funeral…?"

"Bad. But it could have been worse. Thank you for the flowers."

"I'd have come—"

"The flowers were enough." Kara paused, almost afraid to ask the question because she already knew the answer. "Have you caught them yet?"

"No." She could hear the frustration in his sigh. "No, we haven't."

"I didn't think so."

"Don't start that again, Kara. It's not fair."

"It isn't?" She felt her own frustration ballooning within her. "If she'd been Ivana Trump you'd sure as hell have somebody in custody by now!"

"I don't know about that, Kara."

"You said you had a description of the two men and a set of fingerprints! That was five days ago!"

"Right. But the two men described were not regulars at the bar, and they haven't been back since. And the fingerprints were no help at all."

"Why not?"

"They don't match anywhere. Which is not surprising."

"Why isn't it?"

"Well, it goes along with the pick-up theory. I mean, if Kelly picked these two guys at random from the Oak Room Bar crowd, it's very possible that they don't have criminal records. And if they don't have criminal records—or haven't applied for a gun permit or a security-sensitive job—then their prints are probably not on record here or with the Feds."

"And so you won't be able to match them anywhere."

"Right."

She felt the anger rising again. She wanted to scream but kept her voice level, for Jill's sake.

"So you're no closer to finding Kelly's murderers now than you were on Thursday."

"I'm afraid that's right, Kara." Rob paused, then said, "I'm afraid we can't even say for sure it was murder."

"What?" Kara didn't want to believe what she was hearing.

"Just hear me out," he said quickly. "Forensics says there's, no sign of a struggle in the room. And they can't say for sure whether the two guys she picked up downstairs were even in the room at the time she went out the window."

Kara felt as if she were turning to ice.

"Are they saying Kelly jumped?"

"No. Not in so many words. They're saying there's nothing to support the idea that she was pushed. And the M.E. backs them up. He says she wasn't beaten, and that if she was thrown out the window, she didn't struggle—no broken fingernails, no skin under the nails, no bruises on her palms. And witnesses there say she screamed on the way down, so we know she was conscious."

"Kelly wouldn't kill herself," said Kara, although she knew her voice didn't exactly ring with conviction.

After what she'd found this morning, she was no longer completely sure about anything concerning her twin. However, there was most of a bottle of sleeping pills in the bedroom. If she had wanted to kill herself, why hadn't she taken them?

"We've talked to a lot of her co-workers at St. Vincent's. The ones who knew her best seem to think she was very troubled lately. Even a little depressed."

Kara thought about that. In retrospect, she could see that there had indeed been a change in Kelly over the past year. Nothing terribly obvious. She hadn't called anywhere near as often, and she had seemed a bit withdrawn on the few occasions they had seen each other. But suicidal…?

If there was something so terribly wrong, why didn't she come to me?

Kara was suddenly feeling pretty depressed herself.

"Does this mean Kelly's going to be written off as a crazy bimbo who threw herself through a hotel window?"

"No," he said slowly. "Not by a long shot. That doesn't sit well with me."

Her spirits rose a tiny bit.

"Why not?"

"Kelly had to hit that window with tremendous force to go through it the way she did. Jumpers just don't do it that way. They open the window, step out on the ledge, and go. They don't do what Kelly did. Besides, I used her purse keys and did a quick search of her apartment the day after her death. I didn't find a suicide note or anything like it."

Kara looked around. Maybe that explained some of the uncharacteristic disarray she'd noticed during her own search.

"So we're back to murder," she said.

"I don't know where we are, Kara," Rob said. His voice was tired. "But I promise you: I'll keep this case open as long as they let me."

"Thank you, Rob." She believed him. "Can I call you again on this?"

"Call me any time. You know that."

"Thanks."

Kara hung up and stared across the room at the pile of papers she had pulled from one of the closets. She was going to go through everything there until she found an answer.

Kelly a suicide? No way.

"Was that Aunt Ellen of the phone?" Jill said.

Kara suddenly had an insane urge to tell her the truth. No, bug. That was your father.

"Just a policeman."

She looked at Jill. She so resembled Rob. The idea of Jill and Rob being in the same city was almost unnerving. If they ran into each other, there was no way he could miss the resemblance. And then he would know that he had a daughter.

Rob was a good man. Seeing him again had released an almost overwhelming attack of guilt. She never should have kept her pregnancy a secret from him. She saw that now, but at the time it seemed the only thing to do. Nothing was going to deter her from having the baby, and nothing was going to convince her to raise the child in the city. And there was no way Rob was going to leave the city willingly. She could have used the pregnancy to coerce him into quitting the NYPD and moving to the suburbs, but what kind of marriage, what kind of life would that have been? He would have felt like a prisoner, or a hostage. He would have come to resent Kara, maybe even resent his child. The result would have been intolerable for the three of them.

So Kara had done the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. She left the man she loved and returned home to have her child and raise her by herself. The idea had shocked, offended, and embarrassed her mother, and even Kelly had thought she was crazy, but they'd all stood by her just the same. For awhile the farm had been a war zone… until Jill was born. Jill brought them all together again.