“I made a point to read up on your accident. Ms. Taylor couldn’t remember much. Said your guardian was a white guy. Thirties to maybe late forties. Not fat or thin.”

“Could be half the city.”

“Exactly. In high-adrenaline situations, our brains don’t process details as well.”

“My phone went missing after the accident. I think that guy might have taken it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I have a faint memory of someone reaching into the car, and it goes missing. I don’t suppose you could ping it or something? Find the phone, find the man.”

“I can try. But if he took it, it’s long been traded or sold.”

She picked up another hefty doughnut fragment. “Still.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” She took a couple of big bites, making me pine for my youth and the cartons of ice cream I could eat. “Did you bring me here to talk about the accident or my sister?”

“Your sister.” I sat back in my chair and met her unwavering stare. “I told this to your father, but he never wanted me to tell you or your sister. I promised I would keep it private as long as I didn’t think it stood in the way of solving the case.”

“Maybe you should have told me.”

“I thought about it. But I wasn’t interested in piling more onto your shoulders. You were already in a bad place, and by the looks of it, you’d been there for a while.”

“I looked that terrible?”

When she’d overdosed two years ago, I’d known if she kept up her pace, she’d be dead within the year. And here she was. “I know troubled when I see it.”

“That obvious? I thought I was better at hiding it.”

Her sunken eyes and hollow cheeks still came back to me from time to time. She’d needed a lifeline. And I had wanted to help but knew there wasn’t much I could do other than keep tabs on her.

“What do you have to tell me?” she asked.

Bad news was best delivered swiftly with no drama. “Clare was pregnant.”

She stared at me, her eyes reflecting a jumble of shock, confusion, distrust, and then anger. “That can’t be right. She would have told me.”

“She wasn’t that far along.”

“How do you know this?” Anger tightened her tone.

I cleared my throat. “The autopsy.”

Pale features grew a little whiter as she sat back, her mouth opening slightly. She’d always been so consumed with anger it was hard to tell what else was going on in her head. “Are you sure she was pregnant?”