“That’s pretty normal for a stressful situation,” Mason said. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Yes, I followed up with my pediatrician because I was concerned that Ellie would need to talk with someone. The doctor saw that I needed help and put me in touch with someone.” She gave a shaky smile. “Ellie’s been fine. No behavior issues at all. I’m the one that’s a wreck.”

“Did you see the man with the cap afterward?” Mason asked.

Tana thought. “No. I don’t think so. My memory is crystal-clear up to where he shouted that the shooter shot himself and then after that it’s all a blur.”

“Anything else you remember about the shouting man?” asked Mason.

“He was wearing a backpack.”

Mason exchanged a look with Ray. He carried away the black clothing.

25

Her phone rang through her car speakers as Ava whipped into the parking garage at Oregon Health & Science University. She hit the button on her wheel and flinched as her voice shook as she answered the phone. She’d had thirty minutes to stress over Jayne’s condition on the drive to the hospital, and she’d nearly run through two red lights.

“Ava? This is Charlene. I’m sorry I missed your call yesterday.”

The manager at Jayne’s halfway house.

“Did you hear about Jayne? What happened to her?”

“No.” Charlene’s voice sharpened. “What are you talking about?”

Ava hit her brakes as she nearly rear-ended a sedan backing out of a parking space. The sound of her pounding heart filled her car. She waited and snagged the space. She turned off her car and leaned her head against her headrest. “I had a call thirty minutes ago. It sounds like Jayne attempted suicide. They took her to OHSU. I just got here.”

“What?” The manager let out a string of curses that made Ava’s ears burn. “She’s been gone all day. She was here for check-in last night, but took off at daybreak this morning. I’m sorry, Ava. She was doing so well—”

“I know!” Ava exclaimed. “My calls with her—”

“—until yesterday,” Charlene finished.

Ava caught her breath. “What happened yesterday?”

“She was in quite a state. Ranting and picking arguments with two of the other girls. Twice I had to fine her for abusive language. I was going to call you if she didn’t straighten out. First she was gone all afternoon and then she was on a tear last night.”

“She called me yesterday afternoon. She’d gone to our old place and was furious that we’d moved and not told her.” Ava closed her eyes.

“Oh, Ava.” Charlene’s voice lowered. “That must have been a huge shock for her. All she does is talk about you.”

Ava’s guilt increased tenfold. “I need to go inside. A guy found her in Jefferson Park with bloody wrists.”

Charlene was silent for several seconds. “I didn’t see anything leading to this,” she said slowly. “She seemed so balanced lately.”

“I know. I felt the same way.”

“Please tell me what you find out,” Charlene said. “You realize she can’t return here. An incident like this is an automatic dismissal. I’m really sorry.”

She could hear the sincerity in Charlene’s tone. “I know. I appreciate all you’ve done for her.”

The call ended and Ava sat in the silent car. The pounding of her heart had returned to normal. I don’t want to go inside. She wanted to turn the car back on and leave. Drive home and read a book. The bottle of wine she’d bought last week dominated her thoughts. Vodka would be faster.

She craved blissful nothingness. Go home and let the doctors deal with Jayne.

Go inside and deal with the uproar. Stress. Paperwork. Where would Jayne go live now? Who would help her?

Sixty seconds ago her main purpose had been to get to Jayne and find out her condition.

Now she wanted to hide.

Jayne could be dead. She paused, letting the thought sweep through her, analyzing and holding her breath as she waited for her reaction.

Nothing.

I’m numb.

Tears leaked down her cheeks. Had it come to this? Was she so damaged that the death of her twin would mean nothing? She started the car and placed it in reverse. Why had she driven all this way if she didn’t care? She looked over her shoulder and wiped her eyes, unable to see. She blinked and wiped again, unable to view any passing cars. She slumped in her seat and reluctantly turned off the car. She couldn’t drive—and she couldn’t go in.

Indecision froze her. She was powerless.

Mason. More anxiety crippled her. She hadn’t called or texted him about Jayne, afraid to face his disappointment. Mason’s view on Jayne was clear: she messed with Ava’s head and was best avoided.

Call him.

She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to hear how wrong she was to have driven to the hospital, to have given Jayne five minutes of her time.

I know he’s right. She shouldn’t have come.

Ava dug her phone out of her purse and her fingers paused. He’s in Eugene. He can’t get here for at least two hours.

She mashed her lips together—and called Zander.

26

Mason and Ray compared notes in his car. It’d been late by the time they left Tana Britton’s home, but they didn’t want to head back to Portland until they’d talked with the cousin of shooter Joe Albaugh.