“Yeah.” I swept my hair back, growing angry with Roxanne, with myself for not doing more. “I should have checked in on her again.”
“When did you last see your sister?”
“God, so much has happened,” I snapped, trying to shove my emotions back so I could think. “Um, the night before last. I have a new phone number, I wanted her to have it. In case she needed me.”
“Well, there’s not much you can do if someone doesn’t want help,” Martinez said kindly. “I’m so very sorry for your loss, ma’am.”
“Thank you for coming here to tell me.”
“The fire didn’t reach her car in the garage,” Martinez went on. “Inside it, we found your name and the name of this building on a piece of paper.”
I met Alaric’s confused gaze. “Why did she write that down and put it in her car?”
“That’s really strange.”
Martinez nodded. “It’s like she wanted you found if anything happened to her.”
“She couldn’t haveknownthat she’d fall asleep with a lit cigarette,” I gasped.
“Maybe she considered the possibility,” he commented.
“Oh, God.”
I went limp in Alaric’s arms, shuddering, crying.Roxanne! What have you done? What did you do?Turning my face into his chest, I wept for my sister. I wept for the life she wasted, the life she threw away, the love we might once have shared. I wept because I loved her, even if my love was never reciprocated.
“I’m so sorry.”
Officer Martinez patted my shoulder, then departed.
***
My parents came to the funeral.
While they gave me cursory hugs and shook Alaric’s hand, I knew they weren’t pleased to see me. Sure, they grieved for Roxanne, and it showed in their faces, their body language. They both wept over her coffin, threw dirt into the grave as it was lowered into the ground. After the service was over, they walked toward the cars in the midst of the few mourners without saying another word to me.
“Cold, aren’t they?”
Alaric scowled at their stiff backs. “How can they treat you like that? You’re their daughter for Pete’s sake.”
I shrugged, squeezing his hand as we, too, walked from the graveside. “Roxanne was their favorite. Their golden child. She could never do wrong in their eyes, while I was the accident they didn’t want.”
“Talk about a dysfunctional family.”
“That was us.”
Alaric glanced down at me with a soft smile. “While Roxanne became a raging alcoholic, you married a dragon. How well did that work out?”
“She wasn’t always an alcoholic.” I frowned. “That’s a recent occurrence. I don’t know why she turned to booze.”
“Now we’ll never know.”
Alaric stopped, halting me with him, as a man emerged from a Ford sedan parked among the others along the cemetery’s main road. He made a beeline straight toward us, while pulling a business card from the breast pocket of his suit’s jacket.
“Mrs. Desjardin?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Roxanne Smith’s attorney.” He handed me the simple card. “Mike Rodriguez. She named you as the executor of her estate.”
