My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 53

53

MARTHA HELD ME TOGETHER all through high school when my relationship with Dad had totally come apart. What a blessing that was. No person should have to live without a sibling. If I ever have children, there'll be at least two. But even with Martha there supporting me emotionally, I'd not been complete.

Until Sydney.

With Sydney, I felt I'd come full circle. As if she'd taken hold of my spine and given me some sort of adjustment. A spiritual realignment. My breathing slowed. My muscles relaxed. I felt a presence within me that had long been missing—a thousand voices singing.

Looking at her leaning against the carved headboard of her bed holding a sheet to her breasts, I felt I was looking more into her than at her. I wanted her heart more than I wanted air to breathe.

"Come home with me," I said. "Have dinner with me. Have breakfast with me. Bring a plant if you like. I don't care, just—come home with me." I couldn't help myself. I needed her and I was afraid if I didn't say so then, I might not get another chance.

Thirty seconds is all it took. For thirty seconds, she thought it over. After thirty seconds, she flipped the sheet off, gathered the things she'd need, and packed an overnight bag.

As I slipped back into my clothes, those thousand voices rose in pitch and intensity—the voices of angels.

I took her hand on the drive back to my house and held it, afraid that if I let go, I'd turn and find her gone. As we slowed near my house, the headlights spotlighted a woman moving toward a parked car up the street.

Instead of turning into my drive, I continued forward. "That looks like..." As I approached her, the woman turned her back and as she struggled to get a key into a car door, I passed within a few feet of her.

"My God," Sydney whispered. "Isn't that Ashleigh?"

I slammed on the brakes. "Yes. It is."

Sydney rolled her window down and leaned out. "Ash?"

The woman jerked her door open, dived in, started the engine, and backed the car away without even closing her door, then whipped the car around and headed up the road to her right.

I swerved into a driveway, turned that heavy wagon around, and floored the gas pedal. "Reach behind your seat and get that black bag. There's a camera in it," I told Sydney.

Sydney grabbed my arm. "She has a gun. I saw it."

I handed her my cell phone. "Call Sam. The number's in the directory. Tell him who we've just seen and that we're following her."

I turned my lights off and rounded the corner after Ashleigh. Her car had a section of red lens broken out of the right-rear taillight that made it easy to follow from a distance. After a few turns, I switched my lights back on and stayed well back. She drove fast and erratically, but I managed to keep her in sight. Sam's voice-mail picked up and Sydney handed me the phone.

"Sam, Richard Baimbridge. Sydney Deagan and I have just seen Ashleigh Matthews. She was parked just up the street from her house and we're following her now. I'm hoping to get a few photos of her so I can prove she's alive. She knows we saw her and she's running pretty hard. I'll let you know how it turns out and where she goes...if I can keep up with her."

Ashleigh turned onto US 17 North and headed toward Jacksonville for about eight miles, then doubled back and meandered aimlessly about Wilmington for another half-hour. With that taillight out, I was able to keep a great distance between us and pick her back up if I lost her. Once when I did lose her, I looked to my left at a stoplight and realized we were sitting right next to her. She was engaged in a frantic telephone conversation and didn't notice us, but the light changed before I could get the camera ready.