Текст книги "In Close"

Автор книги: Brenda Novak

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 13 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 5 страниц]

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4

Leanne wasn’t happy but that didn’t come as a surprise. To Claire’s dismay, her sister never seemed happy.

She watched Leanne maneuver her wheelchair to reach the nightstand, where she set the glass of water and the pain pills she’d brought in case Claire needed them later. The disgruntled frown that tugged at her lips bothered Claire, but not as much as the low-cut pink nightgown her sister was wearing. Held up by two black ribbons tied in bows, one over each shoulder, it went to her ankles—but it was too low-cut to be worn in front of a man other than an intimate boyfriend or husband.

And this was how she’d answered the door when Myles brought Claire home.

Unable to bite her tongue any longer, Claire broke the tense silence that’d fallen between them as soon as the sheriff left. She knew Leanne had plenty to say about what’d happened at the studio tonight—plenty about how she shouldn’t have been there in the first place—and thought she might as well air her own grievances before Leanne could get started. “You didn’t mind letting Myles see you like that?”

Her sister’s chin jutted out. “Like what?”

“Wearing sexy lingerie?” With no effort at all, Claire could make out the tattoo of a mermaid on her sister’s right breast. When Leanne bent forward, she could see clear to her navel—but glanced away. Leanne’s lack of modesty embarrassed her now as much as it had a few minutes earlier. What had gotten into her lately? Why was she acting like this?

Claire knew she struggled to feel attractive despite her handicap. It was heartbreaking to watch and the primary reason Claire had agreed with Leanne’s decision to get breast implants. She’d even helped pay for the operation. But Leanne had changed so drastically since the surgery, had become so blatantly sexual. Was she trying to prove that she was just as attractive and capable of pleasing a man as anyone who could walk?

It felt that way. But passing herself around to every guy who showed interest wouldn’t solve her self-esteem problem. And it wouldn’t do her reputation any favors, either, especially in such a small community.

“What are you talking about?” Leanne asked. “It’s not like this is transparent or anything.”

It didn’t need to be transparent to be inappropriate. Claire made an effort to hold on to her temper. She knew how easily this could blow up into a major argument and didn’t relish the idea of any more trouble with her sister. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats these days. “But you hate gossip. Why make yourself the focus of it?”

Leanne shrugged. “Folks around here are going to stare and talk no matter what. I have this wheelchair to thank for that. And Mom didn’t do us any favors when she ran off.”

Claire couldn’t stop herself from bristling. Leanne had just thrown her first jab, no doubt one of many. “You don’t know she ran off, Lee.”

“I know that’s the most likely answer—and I’m tough enough to accept it.”

Unlike her. The implication was too obvious to ignore. “Don’t start.”

Her sister’s blue eyes, a shade lighter than her own, flashed with the anger she’d kept concealed while Myles was in the house. “You need to hear it. You think finding out the truth will somehow make things better? That you’ll be able to prove she loved you? That’s pathetic. Dad and I have asked you and asked you to leave the past alone, but you won’t. You just have to convince yourself that no one would ever willingly abandon you.”

She meant Tug when she said Dad. They called Tug and Roni Dad and Mom, even though their real dad was alive and in Wyoming with his other family. He was such an angry individual, so difficult to deal with, that Alana had preferred to let him go on his way unfettered—and he’d had no argument with that plan because he’d signed the adoption papers the moment she sent them. He was probably glad to escape legal responsibility for the children he’d left behind so he could pretend he’d never been married the first time. “I’ve accepted that our real dad didn’t love us enough to hang on, haven’t I?”

“That was easier. He took off when you were three and I was a baby. Tug’s the one who’s loved us and looked after us but you don’t care about what’s best for him.” She motioned to the bump on Claire’s head. “And this is what you get.”

Claire shoved herself into a sitting position. “Are you saying I deserved this?”

“I’m saying it could’ve been avoided if you weren’t so damn selfish.”

The barb stung, especially because Claire couldn’t be sure it wasn’t true. “Selfish, Lee? Really? This isn’t about me. There’s more to what happened when Mom disappeared than you think. And I feel a certain…obligation to get to the bottom of it. What I can’t understand is why you don’t feel the same. She was your mother, too!”

“I have some loyalty to the parent who did stick around. Why aren’t you more grateful to Dad?”

Claire remembered what she’d read in the files at the cabin. She almost asked Leanne why she’d never told anyone she’d been out of school for three hours on the day their mother went missing. Where had she gone? And why? Was she being loyal to their father when it came to that information, too?

Claire was dying to know—but she wasn’t willing to reveal what she’d learned. Not yet. She hadn’t even read everything in those files. But she hoped to. As soon as Leanne went to bed, Claire planned to return to the cabin and collect what she’d dropped—if it was still there. Chances were good that Myles would beat her to it. As they were pulling away from Isaac’s place, he’d radioed for a couple of deputies to get her car, told them to leave her keys under the mat by Leanne’s front door. They might pick up those files, too. Or the sheriff himself could return to the cabin tonight instead of waiting until morning. “I am grateful to Dad,” she said. “I just don’t see why I can’t be loyal to both.”

“Maybe Dad and I don’t want to accept that she didn’t love us enough to stay. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Of course, but…she did love you. She loved all of us. I prefer to have faith.”

“Faith?” Leanne scoffed. “Maybe I’m crippled, but you’re blind.”

When would the meds the doctor gave her kick in? Claire’s head felt as if it was about to explode. Forcing herself to lie down, she sighed in frustration. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I had the sheriff call off the investigation for your sake and Dad’s. That’s something.”

“It’d be something if you could finally let it go, too. Let us live in peace, instead of just…placating us.”

“Fine, I’ll let it go if you’ll develop a little self-respect and restraint.” The words rushed out before Claire could stop them.

Leanne had started to wheel herself to the door, but at this she paused. “What?”

Already regretting the statement—it was nothing if not an invitation to fight—Claire pulled the covers up to her neck. She wanted to crawl into a hole until she felt well enough to deal with her sister. “You’re not even wearing a bra, Lee. When you bend over you can see everything.”

“The sheriff wasn’t here long enough for me to bend over,” she said with a grimace. “Anyway, I have the right to wear pretty things. Why can’t I enjoy sexy lingerie as much as the next woman?”

They were back to her handicap. It was the quickest way to disarm Claire, and Leanne didn’t hesitate to wield the power it gave her.

Claire felt so bad about what her sister had suffered, and continued to suffer, that she was willing to put up with almost anything. But Leanne had gone too far with Sheriff King tonight. Claire would never forget the stunned look on his face. She had to make her point, before Leanne’s behavior got any worse.

“I don’t have a problem with you enjoying sexy lingerie,” she said.

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

Claire lifted her head—and paid the price when it felt as if someone had just taken a swing at her with a baseball bat. “Because—” she waited until the pounding began to diminish “—you came to the door in a nightgown that barely covers your nipples. Myles is a married man. Not only that, but he’s with my best friend, and they have three children.”

“His and hers,” she said flippantly.

“So? What difference does that make?”

Leanne gestured in a dismissive fashion. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion. He’s married to a beautiful woman. Why would he want a cripple when he has Laurel?”

Claire massaged her temples. Thankfully, the painkiller was starting to take the edge off her pain. “Stop defining yourself exclusively by your condition! That’s not the issue.”

Leanne’s voice climbed an octave. “Then what is? You’ve been telling me what to do since we were kids, but I’m an adult now, and I’ll live my own life! You’re freaking out over nothing. He didn’t even notice me.”

But she’d been hoping he’d notice, hoping he wouldn’t be able to resist admiring her new double Ds in spite of his pretty wife.

“Of course he noticed,” Claire said. “Anyone would. The whole encounter made him uncomfortable—and embarrassed me.”

“Oh, and I would never want to embarrass you! God, all you care about is yourself!”

Sometimes Claire just wanted to put some space between her and Leanne. But she couldn’t. She felt too much obligation to every member of her family, even her missing mother—especially her missing mother. “All I’m saying is that you should’ve covered up when he came to the door. That’s it. Quit trying to twist this into something it isn’t.”

“It was late and I was in bed. You know how much harder it is for me to change clothes than it would be for you or anyone else.”

That was an excuse. The sheriff had called dispatch so Nadine Archer could tell Leanne what had happened. Leanne had had some warning, could’ve slipped on a robe. She’d wanted him to see her in that nightie, wanted to find out if she could turn his head.

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re acting strange these days, and it’s becoming apparent to others.”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Quit with the scare tactics.”

“I can hear the cars that come over here late at night. I live next door, remember?”

“Oh, so now you want to know who I see? You think I should get your permission before I have sex? You may have decided never to make love again, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be celibate, too. Why shouldn’t I take what pleasure I can while I’m young? It’s not as if my life will ever get any better. What man’s going to want to marry me?”

Claire’s breath caught in her throat. It would be terrible to think she’d lost her chance at love just because of a sledding accident. “That’s not true! You have so much to offer—”

“Oh, stop it.” Leanne pressed the button that powered her wheelchair and headed for the hall. “Don’t try to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. I’ll make those decisions. How I entertain myself, day or night, is none of your business. It’s nobody’s business. I don’t care what other people think.”

“I’m telling you this for your own good,” Claire called after her. “I only want you to be happy.”

She swung around in the doorway. “You want me to be happy?”

Claire hadn’t expected a response. Taken off guard, she blinked. “Of course.”

“Then stop digging around in the past. Can you do that much?”

If only she could promise she would, but she couldn’t. And it was time—past time—to admit it. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said. “I have to know what happened, have to make sure Mom gets justice.”

“Justice.” Leanne laughed bitterly. “What if justice isn’t what you think?”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Maybe you can understand this—she’s gone, Claire. That’s all that matters.”

Leanne’s words seemed to echo off the walls long after she’d left. All that matters… All that matters…

Was it?

Not to Claire.

“Sometimes I hate you,” she whispered. But she loved her sister, too, and she knew her mixed feelings weren’t likely to change. Leanne had always been difficult to deal with, even before the accident. She’d never made life any easier on herself—or anyone else.

Unwilling to let the evening end so negatively, Claire got out of bed and went to find her. She wanted to put their argument behind them, wanted to give her sister whatever she’d like. But Leanne’s demand that she forget the past warred with what Claire needed most and, selfish or not, she couldn’t help it.

The painkiller was finally doing its job. For the first time since she’d hit her head, Claire could walk without staggering or using the walls to prop herself up. But as she approached the kitchen, she heard Leanne getting a bottle from the liquor cabinet and stopped.

On top of everything else, Leanne was drinking too much. Claire had suspected it for a while. That was probably part of the reason Leanne had changed so much in the past year. But Claire couldn’t do any more about her sister’s drinking than her behavior with men. Claire definitely knew better than to call her on it tonight. They’d only get into a bigger fight if she did.

Quietly returning to her room, she waited until she heard a car outside. Then she got dressed, slipped out while Leanne was still in the kitchen and retrieved her car keys from under the mat.

The files were gone. There wasn’t a single one left.

“Damn it.” Claire slumped against the door frame, aiming the flashlight she’d brought from home at the bare floor.

A twig or tree branch snapped in the forest. Straightening, she jerked her flashlight in that direction. It could be a rodent, a bear or even the man who’d attacked her before, but she wasn’t seriously concerned. The pain meds had hit her full force. She wasn’t feeling any anxiety. Maybe she was even too high to drive…?.

What now? she asked herself. There were more boxes in the attic she could tote home. She’d come all this way, felt she should make the trip as productive as possible. But she couldn’t bring herself to visit the attic. Not with the memory of being attacked so fresh in her mind.

She stood on the front stoop, wondering about whether Sheriff King would call to ask where she’d gotten those files. Should she go on the offensive and demand to know everything they contained if he did? And…how was she going to get back home, since she probably shouldn’t drive?

The memory of Isaac Morgan carrying her through the forest intruded. He lived within walking distance. Maybe it was self-destructive but there wasn’t another living soul she’d rather see.

That was usually the case when it got this late, wasn’t it?

She couldn’t deny her desire for him. The temptation he posed tugged at her more powerfully the longer she lived without David. But she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t go to his house, wouldn’t get involved with him again. They’d only end up in bed.

But…why would that be so bad? If David wasn’t around to care, to be with her, why hold back?

Suddenly she couldn’t think of a single thing it would hurt. She’d slept with Isaac before. Lots of times. One last hurrah wouldn’t make any difference.

A little voice in her head protested as she trudged off. But the fireworks were over. The whole town was asleep. Unlike her previous trip, she felt completely alone and capable of doing whatever she wanted without anyone’s knowing, and that left her vulnerable to her weaker self, especially now, when she was depressed about the way things had gone with Leanne and the fact that the sheriff had taken the files.

Isaac’s house was completely dark. Even the porch light had been turned off. He was obviously in bed. She felt guilty for disturbing him. Like her, he’d been injured tonight—probably more seriously than she had. But she was standing outside at nearly three in the morning with nothing except a flashlight and didn’t know where else to go. Returning to her car and attempting to drive home didn’t seem feasible when she was so light-headed. She couldn’t even remember what she’d done with her car keys…?.

Would he get angry if she woke him up?

Maybe he would if she expected him to drive her home. But she didn’t. She only wanted more of what he used to give her—a night of the most exciting sex imaginable. The Isaac she knew wouldn’t object to putting his talents to work, injured or no. After she’d stopped frequenting his place but before she married David, he’d called her many times, always in the middle of the night—just to get her attention, to remind her that he was waiting, willing and hoping she’d come back.

It’d taken her ten years. But here she was.

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6

When Claire opened her eyes and saw the sun creeping around the corners of her blinds, she pulled her extra pillow over her head. It couldn’t be morning. Not yet.

“Claire? You going to answer or not?”

Claire wished she could ignore the voice at her front door. Once she got up, she’d have to come to full awareness, and with full awareness she’d be faced with the memory of what she’d done last night. After ten years, she’d gone back to Isaac’s house, and his bed. But instead of being fulfilled, instead of feeling as satisfied as she once had, she battled regret—just as she’d expected. Served her right.

Why had she given in after so long? She’d known he wasn’t what she wanted, that he could never be the kind of companion David had been.

Shit…

Bang. Bang. Bang.

There went the door again. She had to deal with her sister whether she felt like it or not. Leanne knew she was home.

“What do you want?” Claire remained where she was and, for a change, didn’t bother to soften her voice.

“It’d be nice to know you survived the night, for one thing,” her sister yelled back. “I was supposed to check on you every few hours, remember?”

Had she even tried? Or had she gotten drunk and passed out?

Claire was willing to bet Leanne hadn’t thought of her until this morning.

Her sister’s negligence might’ve hurt, except that Claire was used to it. All the care and attention between the two of them went in the other direction—from her to Leanne. As the baby of the family, Leanne was used to being coddled, and the sledding accident had only exacerbated that, all but cementing Claire as the one who would forever compromise, give, tolerate, cajole.

“I’m alive,” Claire responded. “You can go home. You’re off the hook.”

“That’s it?” Leanne’s surprise almost made Claire chuckle. “You’re not coming to the door?”

“I have a head injury, remember?”

“Does that mean you’re not working today?”

Scooting closer to the nightstand, she checked the alarm clock. Eight-thirty. Her first appointment was at ten, and then she was booked solid until six, with a half-hour lunch break.

Considering the size of her headache, she couldn’t stand on her feet all day. She didn’t want to field the questions she’d be asked, either. No doubt word of the incident had spread. Maybe it’d even been reported in the paper, like every other call to the sheriff’s department, including the minor ones. “I’ll have to cancel.”

“Okay, well…” Leanne didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. It wasn’t enough of an excuse that Claire was hurt; Leanne was used to Claire being at her beck and call, whether it was convenient or not.

Remembering Isaac’s mouth on her breast—and elsewhere—Claire barely stifled a groan. She was an idiot. But sleeping with her ex-lover wasn’t her only problem. What about the man who’d attacked her at the cabin? She had no idea who he was or what he’d wanted.

The lost files and the information she’d picked up from what she’d managed to read complicated things further…?.

The warning from her subconscious had been correct. This wasn’t a good morning. But she might as well confront it head-on.

“Wait a second,” she called out.

“I’m still here,” Leanne said.

Frowning because of everything that’d passed between them last night, Claire got out of bed and, supporting herself against the walls, made her way to the living room, where she opened the door.

“Wow, you look like hell,” Leanne muttered.

“I feel like hell. But thanks for making my morning that much more enjoyable. I can always count on you.”

Leanne gave her an odd glance. “Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Not necessarily.” Had she looked okay when she’d appeared at Isaac’s cabin? She couldn’t imagine she had, but it made her mad that she’d even care. Anyway, Leanne didn’t look much better. She’d put on a robe, but she was still in that nightgown she’d been wearing the night before—not a positive association as far as Claire was concerned.

Fortunately, they didn’t have any neighbors. They lived at the end of a rutted dirt road next to the old park, which wasn’t used anymore. This area, called River Dell, was considered the poor side of town, but Claire liked the privacy of having their own cul de sac. They both worked out of their homes, which had been purchased with the trust money their grandparents had left them, although that was gone now. Leanne made stained-glass windows and lamps, which she sold online and by referral. Her shop, like Claire’s salon, was attached to her house.

They weren’t getting rich, but they were self-employed and self-sufficient. That freedom meant a lot to Claire.

Suddenly, Leanne leaned close. “Is that a hickey on your neck?”

Isaac had wanted to leave a mark; he’d done it on purpose to spite her. “Of course not. I…I hit something when I fell. It’s just a red mark.”

Leanne didn’t seem completely convinced, but she let it go. “So…do you need me to make you some breakfast?”

An offer like that meant she was feeling contrite. But the emotion wouldn’t last. She wasn’t that big on taking responsibility for her actions. “No, I’m fine.” Claire hesitated, fought with herself and eventually came to a decision. “I have a question for you, though.”

Her sister’s expression turned stony. “If it’s about my personal life, I don’t want to discuss it.”

“It’s about the day Mom went missing.”

Leanne started to roll away. “That’s even worse.”

The same unease Claire had experienced at the studio snaked through her. After their argument last night, she didn’t want to pursue the question that kept surfacing in her mind, but couldn’t hold back any longer. “Where did you go when she took you out of school?”

The whine of the wheelchair motor fell silent as Leanne stopped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? The school attendance records show you went home sick.”

Claire felt the weight of her sister’s stare.

“Who says?” Leanne finally responded. “Dad picked me up after school, just like he picked you up. You know that. We waited for him together.”

“You were gone for three hours. Someone brought you back at two. Who was it?”

“No one. I don’t know where you heard that, but it’s wrong. I never went home, sick or otherwise,” she said, and continued on her way.

Tug woke Claire from a deep sleep two hours after she’d canceled her appointments. When she raised her head and saw his name on caller ID, she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t up to talking to anyone else today, even her stepfather. But she knew he was probably worried. If she didn’t answer, he and Roni might drive over.

That was more than she could handle right now.

Taking most of the bedding with her, she rolled toward the phone but dropped the handset. “Hello?” she said once she’d picked it up.

“You okay?”

Making an effort to shake the exhaustion that dragged at her as if she was under ten feet of water, she rubbed her face. He was worried, as she’d thought. She could hear it in his voice. “Fine. Who told you about the attack?”

“Leanne.”

“It’s not in the paper?”

“Might be. Haven’t checked.”

Everyone would hear about it, anyway, and they’d be talking. “Are you upset with me?” Claire knew he couldn’t be pleased. He was as adamant as Leanne that she leave the past alone.

“Not at all,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

At last, a ray of sunshine for her soul. “Really?” She was almost afraid to believe it.

“Of course. I understand the…loss of your mother has been hard on you. I just… I wish you could let it go so you could be happy. That’s all.”

Why was she the only one who couldn’t? That drove her almost as crazy as everything else about her mother’s disappearance. “Don’t you want to know what happened? Where she went? Don’t you ever wonder?”

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t. You know I hired a private eye right after she went missing, even offered a sizable reward, but it was all for nothing. We can’t let tragedy destroy our lives. Sometimes these things happen and there are no answers. At some point, you have to cut away the bad and focus on the good, forget the past and move toward the future.”

He’d done that. So had Leanne. She was the only one clinging to Alana’s memory. Was she being loyal? Or was she ruining her life?

“But what if there are answers out there?” she asked. “What if we could find them if we pursued them hard enough?”

“We could put all our time, energy and resources into this and still come up empty-handed and brokenhearted.”

He had Roni to help him look toward the future. Her stepfather was happy in his marriage, maybe even happier than he’d been with her mother. How much did that figure into his attitude?

Would she be so set on pursuing this if David hadn’t died?

Probably not. She’d felt less driven when she’d had him as an incentive to live and love again, to forget.

But he was gone, and the burning passion was back. It’d been building recently, returning to levels she hadn’t experienced since the years right after it happened. Which was why she had to ask Tug what she’d asked Leanne. “Do you know about Leanne coming home sick from school the day Mom went missing, Dad?”

She sensed surprise, but when he answered, he spoke in an even, measured tone. “No. Who told you she came home sick?”

“It’s in the school’s attendance log.”

A brief pause suggested he was scrambling for what to say next, and that upset her. She wanted to trust him. She did trust him. So why did she get the impression that he was trying to dodge this question?

“Wow, you really are chasing this thing again, aren’t you,” he finally said.

Draping her arm over her eyes, she sank back onto her pillow. “I have to, Dad. For whatever reason—for a lot of reasons—I can’t let it go.”

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did she could tell that something had changed. “Fine. You do what you have to, honey. And I’ll support you in it.”

Claire threw the covers aside and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

Those four simple words subdued the sinking feeling that had settled in when she woke up. He wouldn’t relent if he’d killed Alana. He’d keep fighting to stop her. His past reluctance had troubled her all these years, so being able to move forward with his blessing meant a lot. “Why the change of heart?”

“What happened last night scares me. I lost your mother. I don’t want to lose you.”

When Claire’s chest constricted, she knew his feelings toward the investigation had been a bigger problem for her than she’d ever wanted to admit. “Leanne said it was my fault for going there in the first place.”

“You should be able to go to your mother’s studio without feeling you might get hurt. Maybe it was a freak encounter, or an attempted robbery. I got off the phone with the sheriff a second ago. He said there’s nothing to indicate it’s more than that, since whoever it was just shoved you and ran off. But…the fact that it occurred at Alana’s studio has him worried, and me, too.”

“You think it might be related to the past?”

“Everyone does, although there’s no proof. You didn’t get a look at the guy?”

“No.”

“Concentrate, honey. Can you remember anything about him? His height? His weight? Maybe some detail about his clothes or his smell?”

She wished she could, but it’d happened too fast. “No, nothing.”

“What about his car?”

“I didn’t realize he had a car, Dad. I didn’t see anyone behind me on the road, didn’t hear a vehicle approach. He must’ve followed at a distance and parked too far away.”

“The sheriff said Isaac Morgan came to your rescue.”

Again, Isaac’s passionate kiss, his hands on her body and his erection pressing against her legs flashed through her mind. Just when the memories of their nights together had grown tired and dim, she’d gone and created a fresh one. “Yes.”

“How do you know he didn’t shove you to begin with?”

“Because he’d have no reason to do that. And it’s not who he is.”

“He never liked that you ended up with David.”

He could’ve stopped it if he’d cared enough. “Believe me, that was no skin off his nose.”

“But he watches you. I’ve seen him do it.”

Her father had never mentioned this before. “What are you talking about? When does Isaac watch me?”

“Whenever. He can’t keep his eyes off you. At the bar. At the café. At the grocery store. Anywhere you both happen to be.”

That was because of their history. She watched him, too. She could feel his presence before she even saw him. “Trust me on this. It wasn’t Isaac. What we had didn’t mean anything to him. You know how he is with women. Anyway, the attack on me might’ve turned into more than just a shove if he hadn’t come running.” How else would he have gotten that terrible gash in his chest?

“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s awfully convenient that he was right there.”

“He lives close by.”

“Not close enough to hear anything. And…Claire?”

“Yes?”

He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say next.

“Dad?”

He sighed. “It’s so hard to know what to reveal and what not to reveal.”

Claire gripped the phone tighter. “There’s something you haven’t told me?”

“It’s not directly connected to Alana going missing. I’m sure of that. But…I’ve often debated whether it would make things easier on you to know. And now that you’ve asked… I don’t want this eating away at you, sending you down the wrong path.”

“Tell me.”

“You asked about Leanne being out of school for three hours on the day your mother went missing.”

A hard knot formed in Claire’s stomach. His manner worried her. “Yes?”

“That did happen.”

Leanne had just denied it. Initially, he’d denied it, too. “Then why’d you say—”

“The question took me off guard,” he broke in. “I’m so used to protecting her, so used to minimizing the damage caused by that day, it’s become instinctive to lie about it.”