AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I can’t help it,” said Jenna, slightly blushing. “I can’t stand seeing them alone and scared when they come in. Thank goodness her daughter is on the way.”
Lance stood at the computer and typed in the information he’d just collected. “I miss having the same shift as you,” he said.
“Ditto. But I’m sure the nighttime bonus is nice.”
“It’s not so much the money as that it’s the only way I can go back to school.” Lance was studying to get a certificate in trauma care. He shouldn’t have to, Jenna thought—he’d been a medic in the army for three years; he’d seen plenty of trauma. They’d met last year when he did his clinical in the ER on a shortened nursing program because of his army training, but he still had to go back for the certificate in trauma. He already knew more than most of the nurses Jenna worked with.
“Well, it’s not forever,” she said.
“Nope,” he said, logged out, and grinned at her. “Now go home—get some sleep. I’ll text you when Mrs. Reynolds gets out of surgery.”
Home. That was the last place she wanted to go right now. Because then she’d start thinking about going in to the Marshals office this week, giving her statement, reopening all the emotions about her sister and everything surrounding her sister’s death. She’d successfully put it out of her mind because of work; now she couldn’t avoid it.
Lance eyed her suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He tilted his head and kept his mouth closed and tight, his eyebrows rising just a fraction.
“Really,” she reiterated.
“Nothing,” he repeated flatly.
“It’s personal.”
“Not that jerk you were dating who wouldn’t get lost when you kicked him to the curb.”
“No, he hasn’t bothered me in months—Iswear,” she added when Lance looked skeptical. Yeah, she was sometimes too nice and yeah, she sometimes had a hard time saying no when she didn’t want to go on another date. But she was getting better about standing up for herself. “Itispersonal. My sister...” Her voice trailed off.
“Sister? I thought she died.”
She nodded. “It’s complicated, but...well...dammit.”
She was getting weepy. For more than twelve hours, Jenna had focused on her job, putting everything that was going on in her life aside. But now that she faced going home alone, the emotions and worries and fears came rushing in.
Lance took her by the arm and led her to the small break room at the end of the hall, which was fortunately empty. “Tell me,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. He was so handsome with his dark Italian skin and bright green eyes. She always felt chunky around him because he was so fit. She was fit, too—she was all muscle. Her grandma called her “sturdy” but Jenna didn’t really take it as the compliment that Grams intended.
She caught herself playing with the end of her long dark-blond braid, a nervous habit. She pushed her braid off her shoulder.
“I can’t—it’s a long story.”
Again he waited, patient but insistent. Lance never had to press, and she always relented and told him whatever he wanted to know. Maybe because she trusted him.
“Itisa long story,” she repeated. “And I’ll tell you everything when I knowexactlywhat happened. But. Okay. Short version.” Deep breath. “It turns out that my sister, Becca, might have been involved in something illegal before she was killed two years ago. I mean—she might have been involved in something illegalwhenshe was killed. And now it seems like it’s going to all come out.”
“Do you think that anyone here, who works with you, would care at all about something your sister did years ago?”
“Maybe not, butIcare. Becca was my big sister. She became my guardian after our parents died. She moved back home, commuted to college instead of living in her sorority. She really stepped up for me. I know she made mistakes, but I don’t want people only remembering her mistakes.”
“Hey, what matters is whatyouthink. And you know your sister better than anyone. Honestly, I don’t care what she was doing.” He cocked his head. “What happened to her? She was killed in a bank robbery, right? A hostage?”
“That’s what I thought.” Then it all came out. Maybe because not only did she trust Lance, but she needed to tell someone. Ever since Deputy Marshal Tommy Granger came to her last month she’d been on pins and needles wanting to talk to someone, but not knowing how. “Two years ago, almost to the day, my sister was taken hostage and killed in a bank robbery. Potomac Bank, in Arlington. She was a teller, had been cooperating with the gunman, but he shot her anyway. At the time, that’s all I knew. The FBI investigated, but because the guy was killed by police, it was pretty much a closed case.
“Then, at the end of last month, a marshal came to me, asked me a bunch of questions about Becca, and showed me a picture of her and a guy—the guy who killed her. He said he thought Becca was in on the robbery, that she knew the guy—Michael Hannigan—and he wanted to know what I knew. Which was nothing. At least—I thought I didn’t know anything. But as we talked, I realized I knew a lot more than I thought.”
“Like?”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t talk about it. I might have to testify and give a statement and stuff. But—well—I guess I can tell you that Becca had been acting odd around that time. She talked about a possible second job where she’d make a lot of money, maybe enough to quit her job. All stuff I never thought was that important, though I always had this feeling that Becca was involved in something...I don’t know, sketchy. It bothered me, but she was my sister, and every time I tried to talk to her about anything it was likedon’t worry, Jenna! Everything is great, you’re such a worry wart.” Jenna frowned. “With what the marshal knew and what I knew, yeah, I think she was involved in the heist, too.”
