In Close. Brenda Novak

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