Read Never Fear for Free Online

peace button on her turtleneck, dated it to the early seventies. She looked as if she could have been an actress. I assumed she was John’s mother.
    I started to reach for a light switch, but stopped when I saw the desk in the opposite corner of the room. All the drawers had been pulled out and the contents dumped onto the floor. A computer monitor sat on the desk, but the hard drive was missing. I took a step, then heard the creak of the door behind me.
    â€œI have a gun. Don’t move.”
    It was a woman’s voice.
    â€œI’m not moving,” I said.
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œI’m a police officer.”
    â€œI don’t believe you. The police were already here,” she said.
    â€œI can prove it.”
    â€œI have a fucking gun,” she said.
    â€œI know you do. Let me show you my identification. It’s on my belt; all I have to do is turn around.”
    â€œTurn slowly, and don’t move your hands.”
    I slowly turned around. The woman was in her late twenties, early thirties with short black hair. I guessed she was the same woman in the photograph on the mantel. A small-caliber silver-plated revolver was pointed right at my face.
    â€œLook at my badge,” I said.
    She glanced at it quickly but didn’t lower the gun. Her hand, holding the weapon, began to tremble.
    â€œWhy are you back here?” she demanded.
    â€œWould you please lower the gun?”
    â€œAnswer my question first.”
    â€œI’m John’s half sister,” I said, the words sounding as if a stranger had spoken them.
    She looked at me for a moment, then lowered the pistol to her side.
    â€œHe once said he had a half sister.”
    â€œYou’re John’s girlfriend?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œDana Courson,” she answered.
    â€œWhy the gun, Dana?”
    â€œBecause I don’t want to get killed, that’s why.”
    She stepped forward out of the shadow of the doorway and I could see that she had been crying. She bent down and put the gun in a paper bag at her feet, then stood up and drew her arms around her chest.
    â€œBy who?” I asked.
    â€œWhoever killed John.”
    â€œThe investigating detective thinks it was suicide.”
    Courson shook her head.
    â€œHe didn’t kill himself,” she said angrily.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    She started to say something, then her eyes appeared to mist over.
    â€œBecause we loved each other,” she said.
    â€œYou were going to say something else.”
    She nodded.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œHe was afraid of guns. I tried to take him shooting; he wouldn’t even touch mine. You can’t tell me he would . . .” The words slipped away from her.
    I stepped around the couch and sat down on the arm.
    â€œHow did you find out he died?” I asked.
    â€œHe called me last night from the hospital, said he’d been in an accident and that Gavin was hurt.”
    â€œYou knew Gavin.”
    She looked at me in surprise.
    â€œHe’s dead, too, isn’t he?”
    â€œYes.”
    She took a deep breath and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.
    â€œDid John say anything to you that was unusual?”
    She looked at me for a moment and then nodded. “He said he had found something.”
    â€œHe didn’t say what it was?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDo you know what case they were working on?”
    â€œJust the usual things, personal-injury stuff.”
    â€œHow did he sound?”
    â€œI thought he was just shaken by the accident, but that wasn’t it.”
    â€œWhat was it?”
    â€œHe was scared. He told me not to come over here until I heard from him. But he never called so I came this morning. A woman from the coroner’s office and a detective were here,” Courson said.
    â€œDetective Williams?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    â€œDid they take the computer and leave the