Free Driven by W. G. Griffiths

Asian, but not completely. If the
     crash had stolen some of her beauty, it could not have taken much. She looked so peaceful; she must have been knocked unconscious
     before she knew what was happening, or at least before she could believe what was happening. The thought of the pain that
     awaited her grieved Gavin. He knew all too well what she would go through—the many stages one experiences after tragic news.
     He had seen and felt it more times than any man should have to.
    “And who are
you
?” demanded a female voice from behind him.
    Startled from his thoughts, Gavin snapped a look in the direction of the voice. What he saw left him momentarily speechless.
     He looked reflexively back at Amber Clayborne and then again at the woman before him.
    “Detective Pierce,” he answered slowly.
    “Did you find the psycho yet?” the woman said.
    “Uh… we’re still—”
    “Did you find
anything
?” she said impatiently, her hands on hips that were covered by a football jersey that fell loosely over well-fitting and
     well-used jeans. The Yankee’s cap worn backward on her head and the challenging attitude could not disguise she was AmberClayborne’s mirror image. Gavin found her stunning. Not just pretty—beautiful.
    “And you are?” Gavin said, hoping to establish at least some authority in her mind.
    She rolled cat-green eyes, obviously annoyed by the question. “I should tell you anything? How do I know you’re not the killer?”
    Gavin frowned and pulled back the left side of his jacket, revealing his shield and holstered gun.
    “Fine. I’m Amy Kirsch, Amber’s sister. And if you couldn’t figure that out, how are you ever going to find out who did this?”
     she said, pointing at her sister.
    Gavin swallowed a defensive comeback before it left his mouth. It went down hard and left a bitter taste, but the last thing
     he’d come here to do was fight with a family member and cause more pain.
    “Miss Kirsch, I want you to know that the department intends to—”
    “Oooh, the department. I feel so much better now,” she interrupted with her palm over her chest in mocking sarcasm. “Whenever
     the going gets tough and someone wants to pass the buck, there’s always some kind of department, isn’t there? Forget the department.
     What do
you
intend on doing? What are you going to do when you’re done with your notes and interviews? Join the boys for a coffee at
     the doughnut shop? Or maybe catch them for a beer at the local watering hole? You’ll have the best story to tell today, won’t
     you?”
    Gavin’s neck and jaw muscles were clenched so tightly he had to speak through gritted teeth. “Lady, for the last month, every
     thought I’ve had has been polluted with this guy. I know what it’s like to loose a loved one in a crash—someone who’s been
     there for you your whole life. I know what it’s like to lose someone you loveto this beast. And what it feels like to want revenge more than anything else you’ve ever wanted.”
    Her eyes widened in surprise.
    “You can rest assured that when I say ‘the department’ I’m talking
me,
” he said, stabbing his chest with his index finger. “Whatever it takes, I’ll find him.”
    “Wait a minute. You’re not the detective that was in the aquarium crash last month? The one that was in the papers?”
    His silence was answer enough. Amy’s tiger eyes softened.
    Gavin turned and walked toward the window. The last thing he wanted was pity. Pity paved the way for
self-
pity and opened the door for excuses. It had a way of dulling the edge and Gavin needed, now more than ever, to be sharp.
     No pity; no excuses.
    “Are you serious when you say ‘whatever it takes’?”
    Gavin continued to stare out the window. He needed to cool off and suddenly felt he had said way too much already.
    “Then let me help,” she said.
    Gavin exhaled quietly. “Well, you could be a big help by answering a few questions.”
    “Don’t give me that