Grave Secret Page 0,55

I said that firmly, as if there were no doubt in my mind at all. "She would never let me worry like this, not for all these years."

"But you said you two had it real hard at home."

"Yeah, real hard." I took a deep breath. "She wouldn't do that," I said. I packed my voice full of conviction. "She loved all of us, all the kids."

"So your stepdad resurfaces, and suddenly there's a Cameron sighting," he said, tactfully abandoning the possibility of my sister's voluntary disappearance. "Isn't that quite a coincidence, too?"

"Yes, it is," I said. "And I don't know what to make of it. I've never thought that he killed her. Maybe I should have considered it. But he was visiting a jailbird friend of his, a guy he did business with, and the time frame excluded Matthew."

"What kind of business?"

"Drugs, and whatever else they could do to raise money." I had to stop to remember. Crazy. I would have never believed I'd forget any detail of that day. "That afternoon Renaldo and Matthew were going to take scrap iron to the recycle plant to get some money. But I don't think they ever made it.They started playing pool."

"What was the friend's full name?"

"Renaldo Simpkins." I was very unhappy that I had to struggle to recover that memory. "He was younger than Matthew, and he was a nice-looking man; I remember that." I tried to picture his face. "Maybe Tolliver will remember," I said finally. I felt that in forgetting even the most minute circumstance of that day, I was betraying the memory of my sister. For the first time, I appreciated the records of that day that the police would have, and Victoria Flores, too.

We pulled into the parking lot of yet another hospital. Christian Memorial was maybe a little newer than God's Mercy, though nothing in that area was very old. We walked into the lobby and asked the lady in the pink smock if she could give us directions. She gave us a practiced smile that aimed at being warm and welcoming. "Detective Powers is up on the fourth floor, but I warn you, it's mighty crowded up there. You may not get to see him."

"Thanks," I said, smiling back just as brightly. We made our way across the lobby and into the elevator, where Manfred's facial decorations attracted a certain amount of attention. He seemed oblivious to the startled and fascinated looks that came our way. When the doors opened on the fourth floor, we were confronted by a sea of faces, and the predominant clothing color was blue. There were cops in several different uniforms standing around, and there were men and women who could only be detectives. There was also a football player or two.

Though it hadn't occurred to me to leave Manfred downstairs, I immediately realized I'd made a mistake bringing him up here. He attracted no little attention, and none of it was positive. I stiffened my back. Manfred was my friend, and he had as much right to be here as anyone. A tall woman with broad shoulders and a thick head of brown hair came up to me. She was in charge. She'd be in charge no matter where she was.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Beverly Powers, Parker's wife. Can I help you?"

"I hope so," I said, feeling hesitant. Somehow, I hadn't foreseen this crowd and all these eyes fixed on me. "I'm Harper Connelly, and Parker was shot when someone tried to kill me. I'd like to thank him. This is my friend Manfred Bernardo, who's driving for me today while my brother's in the hospital."

"Oh, you're the young woman," Beverly Powers said, looking at me with a lot more interest. "I'm so glad to meet you. You understand, there are all kinds of stories going around about why you and my husband were out there together, and I very much hope you'll tell me exactly what happened."

"Of course I will," I said, surprised. "There's no big mystery about it."

She waited, her eyebrows raised to indicate she was ready. I was taken aback, since I realized she meant me to tell her here and now.

Everyone around us was listening, though they were all trying to look like they weren't. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Manfred had retreated to a spot against the wall. He was standing with his hands folded together, his eyes on me and his stance alert. He looked like an undercover