The door opened, and a skinny, gray-haired woman peered over her reading glasses at her. The manager sucked in her breath at the sight of her as Ava was smacked in the face with the odor of cat litter boxes. Apparently lots of them.

“It’s about time you—” The woman cut off her angry sentence and squinted at Ava. “You’re not Jayne.” Curiosity spread across her face and she stepped closer.

Ava pushed back her hood, preferring to get her hair wet rather than be mistaken for her twin. She smiled. “No, I’m looking for Jayne. By your reaction to me, I assume she’s long gone?”

“Are you a sister?” The woman continued to peer at her face, then swept a gaze over her from head to toe. “You can’t be.”

“I am her sister. Does she no longer live here?” Ava asked patiently. The woman seemed stunned by Ava’s appearance. How bad does Jayne look?

“No,” the manager said slowly. “She’s been gone for at least a month. Skipped out on two months’ rent, but at least I got to keep the deposit.” She frowned and her eyebrows came together. “I’m entitled to keep the deposit and last month’s rent. She’s supposed to give notice and she didn’t. And it took me a week to get that place back in shape.”

Did she break your microwave, too? “I’m not here for money, and I’m sure she owes you quite a bit. I’m just trying to find her. She’s vanished and her cell number no longer works. I assume she didn’t leave a forwarding address?”

The woman chortled, her eyes crinkling over her glasses. “That girl’s not the type to leave a forwarding address. The last thing she wants is for people from her past to keep up with her. She likes a fresh start.”

Ava flinched at the phrase. Jayne had used it all the time. She was always seeking her next fresh start and leaving everything else in a ditch behind her. It was a good sign that Jayne had split for what she believed to be greener pastures. “I see you spent some time talking with Jayne.”

“Many times.” The manager’s face softened. “She’s not a bad girl, just misguided.”

Ava raised a brow. “For someone she owes money to, you’re very kind. You don’t have to sugarcoat Jayne for me. I know exactly the type of person my sister is. Count yourself lucky that she didn’t burn down a building.”

“Do you want to come in for a minute? I can dig out her old application and see if there’s something useful on it for you.” The manager stepped back, giving Ava a clear view into her pea-green living room. Two cats contemplated Ava from their post on top of a china hutch, their tails swishing.

“Oh, no. I can’t stay.” Ava wished she wore a watch to glance at. The cat box odor was making her ill, and she felt a bit guilty she was stealing time from her bridge murder cases. “Do you know where Jayne worked or know someone in the complex that she spent time with? I can come back if you find the application.” She dug out a business card and handed it to the woman.

“The FBI?” She stared harder at Ava. “What’s she done now?”

“The only thing she’s guilty of is being my sister.”

“Oh, honey.” The woman gave her a pitying look. “If you believe that, you’re too gullible to work for the government. Why don’t you go down the street to Harold’s Bar?” She gestured to the south. “One block down on your left. Jayne spent a lot of time in there, and I’m sure she talked to everyone more than she should have.”

Ava thanked her and started to turn away but glanced back. “Jayne didn’t tell you I worked for the FBI?”

“Honey, she didn’t even tell me she had a sister. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see you with my own eyes.”

Stunned, Ava nodded, her throat tight, and she strode down the walkway.

I stopped telling people about her years ago. Why am I hurt that she’s done the same?

9

He flipped through several pages in his journal, stopping to read an entry here and there. He’d kept one on and off for several years, but he’d never been as consistent as the last few months.

December 1

I have three days off this week and an appointment with my eye doctor. I think I need a new prescription for my glasses. Sometimes I have to squint at the freeway signs and I know I didn’t used to. Maybe it’s time to consider laser surgery. The thought of a laser cutting through my eyeball makes me sick, but I swear I’m tired of dealing with glasses and wish it’d all just go away. My right eye is getting really bad.

He paused and covered his left eye with his hand and stared out the window. Since then he’d learned eye surgery wasn’t an option for him. The blurriness had continued to worsen in his right eye. Just like they’d predicted it would. His eye doctor had increased the prescription twice since the December journal entry, and his insurance hadn’t covered the second time. Damned if he would pay for it again when there was no point. Besides, some days it wasn’t as bad as others. He’d been warned about that symptom, too.

For the first time since I was in school, I’m taking a week off at Christmas. LA, here I come! Sunshine, Disney, and beach. The Oregon rain is driving me nots this year. I’m craving sunshine.

He rubbed a finger over the word “nots,” hating the error, and wishing he hadn’t written the entry in pen. The LA trip had never happened, and he still hadn’t received a refund from the website where he’d booked the trip. Not that it really mattered, but it was the principle. They’d said they’d mail him a check in six to eight weeks.