Free Cold Case by Kate Wilhelm Page A

progress. I want to pack his carry-on bag with things he’ll need in the hospital. I arranged for a private room, and I hope I talked his parents into taking turns keeping watch in order to get a little rest away from the hospital.”
    â€œI expect one or both parents will stay right there in his room with him,” Frank said, knowing that’s what he would do.
    â€œWell, I told Amy I’d call to let her know how David’s doing.” Barbara placed the call.

    When Amy hung up, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh of relief. She had been so afraid for him, she thought, for no real reason. People, strangers, died all the time, and it was an abstract. You could feel pity or regret or any number of things, but it wasn’t personal, not as if…She shook her head. He meant little or nothing to her, she told herself. Really not much different than any other stranger. Nothing personal. Still, she was relieved.
    She had been on her way to have a talk with Chloe when the call came, she reminded herself, and continued through the house to the deck. Chloe was under a shade umbrella, with sunglasses on, the newspaper on the table nearby, one section on her lap, but she was not reading.
    Amy sat across the table from her. “Chloe,” she said softly, “I’d like to talk to you a minute. Okay?”
    â€œSure.” Chloe didn’t shift in her chair or remove the sunglasses.
    â€œI’d like to start sorting Robert’s clothes. You know, pack up things and donate them to the church for them to distribute. Something like that. Is it all right with you?”
    For a long time Chloe did not respond or move. Finally she said, “Do what you want. I can’t deal with it right now.”
    â€œNo. I don’t want you to help. Why don’t you go to the coast for a few days, walk on the beach, relax. The change of scene would be good for you.”
    There was another long pause before Chloe said, “I’ll think about it. Maybe tomorrow.”
    It was disconcerting, Amy thought, leaving her, the way Chloe seemed absent, not processing anything in normal time. She had been like that for days, probably still in shock. The trauma of murder, the sight of Robert’s body, the ants…It might haunt her for years to come.
    Amy went upstairs to the room she had used as a girl. It had long since been redecorated, no silly posters on the walls, no shelf of dolls and stuffed animals, but in spite of the changes, it was still her room, with the same twin beds, the desk and chair, even the same desk lamp. Now the desk was crowded with her computer, the house plans she was working on, reference books, a coffee mug bristling with pencils and pens like a porcupine with its back up. She had not been able to concentrate on work all that week and she still couldn’t concentrate when she sat at the desk and called up the program with a basic floor plan outlined and nothing else.
    Perhaps she was in shock also, she thought, gazing at the screen. She had not yet sorted out how Robert’s death had affected her. Although he had been her only sibling, her brother, they had never been close. The age spread had made that impossible. At best he had been tolerant of her, most of the time indifferent, and at times he had been cruel. He had left home for law school when she was fourteen and, she had to admit, she had never missed him after that.
    She had not been able to do a thing at her computer, and still couldn’t. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to get back to work until she cleared out Robert’s belongings. She hated how callous the thought was. Clear him out. But that’s what it amounted to. His presence would linger as long as his clothes hung in the closets, his raincoat hung in the downstairs closet, all his things remained in place as if awaiting his return. She suspected that Chloe would not be able to consider her own plans, her future, any more than Amy could