Page 38 of What She Saw
“But.”
“I interviewed Laurie Carr’s aunt.” I didn’t need to fill in the pieces. He knew the case almost as well as I did.
He didn’t offer an opinion. “And?”
“Ms. Carr has never gotten past her niece’s death. She’s a lot like Sara.”
“And you?”
“How can I feel loss? I never knew my mother.” I pulled onto the highway.
“Still, the idea of her mattered. Every girl needs a mother.”
I laughed. “I’m not a regular girl, Grant. I don’t feel any loss for Patty or Sara. I don’t experience normal emotions.”
“What do you mean?”
I pressed my foot on the accelerator and passed a truck in the right lane. “I have never processed feelings like regular people. Love, hate, guilt all elude me.”
“Sounds like a sociopath.”
“That’s what Sara said. She asked a friend of a friend about why I never cried or never feared consequences.”
I’d never bothered with honesty before. But for some reason I needed him to see the worst of me.
“You’re unique, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“Some of my ways are bad.”
“How bad?”
“I’ve never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
His voice dropped. “Have you hurt anyone?”
“Not badly.”
“What was the worst?”
“A guy who killed his stepdaughters. He reported them missing. I followed him for weeks. He was hard to nail down, and then he fell down a flight of stairs. He was easier to talk to with two broken legs.”
A beat of silence. “People trip.”
A truck ahead of me in the left lane was going too slow. This was the fast lane. I pressed the accelerator and edged up closer to his bumper. “I want to meet Rafe Colton.”
“Seeing you could shake something loose from him.”
“Maybe.”
The truck driver tapped his brakes, and his lights popped on, but I didn’t slow. He glanced in his rearview mirror and flipped me off. I kept riding his tail. If Grant weren’t on the line, I’d have leaned on the horn by now. He cut to the right, and I raced past him, not bothering a glance.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Speeding.”
I pressed the accelerator, watching my speed climb to ninety. I caught up to the next dumbass in the left lane. The male driver operated a Mercedes. Such a great muscle car, and he drove like an old woman.
“Slow down.”
