“You can't work this case anymore,” he reminded her gently.
“Why?” she demanded, her green eyes shooting arrows at him. “We don’t know for sure what happened to my sister.”
“Go home, Rylla,” Matthew repeated. He didn't take his partner’s anger personally, she was upset and lashing out.
She brushed past him and zeroed in on the photo of Hendrick Mint. “Is that him?”
“Rylla, go and be with your family.”
“I can't go and see those kids now, not until I can bring their mother home to them.” She looked aghast at the prospect of seeing her niece and nephew under any other circumstances.
“You are not working this case, take a couple of days, we’re doing everything we can to find her.”
Rylla deflated right in front of him. “We haven't been close since we were little girls, I was angry that she didn't believe me, that she never came looking for me those years I was gone, but now I don’t care, I just want her back.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn't matter, he put his arms around his partner and felt her shudder. “We’ll find her, Rylla.”
“She’s stubborn, she might make him angry like Georgia did,” she whispered. “It’s our fault. We couldn’t find him. We didn't stop him. And now he has my sister.”
* * * * *
9:12 P.M.
She felt so guilty.
Rylla was no stranger to guilt.
She had felt guilty about what had happened to her parents. If only she’d paid more attention to what was going on at home, if only she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her friends and the boys she liked, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened.
And she felt guilty that Josh had taken Elianna out that afternoon because she had forgotten the flour for the cake she’d been planning on baking for a party with some of their friends that weekend. If she hadn’t forgotten then they wouldn’t have been in the car, and if they hadn’t been in the car they would never have been in the accident, and if they had never been in the accident then they wouldn’t have died. She should have been the one to go to the supermarket. Then if the accident had still occurred, she would have been the one to die, and not her precious husband and daughter.
Now, because she and Matthew had failed at their job, her sister might die. Her niece and nephew might grow up without a mother.
The guilt was crushing her.
“Rylla, you should eat something,” Naomi said for probably the hundredth time.
“I can't, my stomach is churning,” she replied, chewing on her already ripped and tattered fingernails.
“You shouldn’t bite your nails anymore, you’re going to make them bleed.” Naomi tried to tug her hand away from her mouth.
Shaking her friend’s hand off, she snapped, “You’regoing to reprimand me for how I deal with guilt and stress? Really? Aren’t you the person that allowed herself to get kidnapped because she felt guilty about what her stalker had done?”
Rylla regretted saying that as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
Naomi’s eyes dropped and she lifted her hand and pressed it to her chest, just below her left breast where Rylla knew there was a scar from the bullet wound that had almost killed her. She knew Naomi still had nightmares about the stalker and bringing it up served no purpose other than making them both feel bad. She hated making her friend feel bad. Why did she keep lashing out? Naomi had been here all day with her, helping to distract her, and how did she repay her friend? By being mean.
“I'm sorry, Naomi.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, I’m being mean for no good reason. Thanks for being here today, I really appreciate it.” If she’d been alone today, she would have lost it. She wanted to work. She wanted to keep so busy that she didn't have time to dwell on her sister’s abduction and her guilt about not finding the killer quickly enough. She hated that Matthew had made her leave, and that Jonathon and Allina and Heidi had backed him up. She didn't want to take time off from work, work would help keep her sane.
“Naomi, it’s time to go home,” Sam announced.
“We can't go, I don’t want Rylla to be alone,” Naomi protested.
“I’ll be fine on my own,” Rylla said immediately, although the prospect of being alone with her thoughts was a daunting one, but Naomi looked tired and she needed sleep.