Before We Were Strangers

by Brenda Novak

  By the time night fell, she was exhausted. She went to bed early, grateful that she’d managed to avoid Randy, her father and Micah today.

  She expected to toss and turn. She’d had trouble sleeping since she moved back to town. But she nodded off right away.

  In the morning, she found a text from Micah waiting for her.

  Any luck getting hold of Hadley?

  No. She’s out of town and, without her cell phone number, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until she gets back.

  Someone has to have it.

  Someone we can get it from?

  Possibly. I’ll text my mother. She’s pretty well connected here in town. If she doesn’t have it, she might know someone who does.

  Thanks for trying to come up with it.

  What about Katrina? Have you talked to her?

  Briefly. I’m meeting her for lunch today.

  Where?

  Fort Worth. She works at another car dealership there.

  That should prove interesting. I’m on duty or I’d go with you, came his response.

  She frowned when she read that. You’ve done enough. Really. If you can come up with Hadley’s cell phone number, that’d be great. Other than that, I can handle it. She didn’t want to leave him any worse off than she’d found him.

  Fortunately, he didn’t respond.

  Because she had an hour’s drive, Sloane didn’t have long to wait. Almost as soon as she got ready and had breakfast, she left for Fort Worth.

  Katrina had chosen the restaurant, which turned out to be a small, trendy place downtown called Monty’s. It was crowded, but Sloane didn’t have any trouble finding Katrina. She was standing by the hostess station. Sloane would’ve recognized her anywhere; she hadn’t changed much.

  “Look at you!” Katrina said as Sloane approached in a brown jumpsuit with a wide belt, ankle boots and some chunky jewelry. “You’re all grown up, and you’re just gorgeous!”

  Sloane could tell Katrina now dyed her hair. It was so much darker than before. Her acrylic nails were painted a bright red, which matched her lipstick, and the way she kept smoothing her ankle-length shirt and white boho top suggested she was proud of the ensemble. “You look great yourself.”

  “I can’t believe you bothered to look me up. You were only...what...five, six when I was seeing your father? I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

  “I definitely remember you.” Sloane didn’t add that it wasn’t fondly, as Katrina seemed to assume.

  “How is your father, by the way?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Sloane said. “We don’t talk.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Did Katrina’s response indicate they didn’t talk, either? If so, that would be good news as far as Sloane was concerned. She wanted to learn what Katrina remembered of that time without those memories being muddied or influenced by more current impressions and information—and without Katrina feeling as though she was stabbing Ed in the back by being honest about what she may have heard or seen.

  “It was my choice, for the most part.” Sloane added the qualifier at the end because it was probably too late to undo what she’d done. Maybe these days it was her father’s choice, too.

  The hostess approached with their menus. “Right this way, ladies.”

  They were taken to a small table near the window where they could see hordes of business people on the street outside hurrying to and fro.

  They made small talk as a young man brought them water and they perused the menu. Sloane learned that Katrina had a little boy who was eight and being raised by her first husband in San Antonio, that her mother had passed away two years ago and her father lived in Wyoming, that she was hoping to like her current job at Russ Green Truck & Auto much more than her previous one, where she claimed to have been sexually harassed by her boss. She was currently living with her stepbrother—the one who’d given Sloane her number.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Sloane said after they placed their order and the waitress left the table.

  “I was excited to get your call. But I admit I’m a little bewildered as to why we’re here.”

  “This has to do with my mother.”

  Katrina’s eyebrows knitted but Sloane couldn’t decide if it was manufactured confusion. “Your mother?”

  “I’m trying to find her, and I hope you won’t mind helping me.”

  “Of course not. I remember how badly you missed her. You were like a lost puppy back then. And your father...well, he didn’t know how to relate to you, so I could tell it wasn’t easy.”

  Sloane felt her smile grow ever more brittle. “You mean he was too busy running his own life to care about mine.”

  Katrina stiffened. “He was...busy.”

  With her. Perhaps that was why the comment made her uncomfortable, but Sloane didn’t add that. She was disheartened to see that Katrina still seemed loyal to her father. “I remember.”

  “Anyway, your mother was gone by the time Ed and I started dating so I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you anything.”

  “You didn’t know her?”

  Katrina took a quick sip of water. “Not really.”

  “You worked at the dealership, didn’t you? I’m assuming she came in occasionally, that the two of you talked.”

  She straightened her napkin as well as her silverware. “She came in, but not for any length of time. I was half her age and just an employee. It’s not as if she was interested in being my friend.”

  Sloane took a drink of her water as she tried to read Katrina’s body language. She seemed uptight, apprehensive—completely different than when they’d first met up. “Is it true that you were having an affair with my father at the time?”

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “No! Of course not.”

  When Sloane lifted her eyebrows to show her skepticism, Katrina scowled. “We weren’t having an affair!”

  “Is that what I’d hear if I contacted everyone who worked at the dealership when you were there?” Sloane asked.

  Katrina lowered her voice. “Look, you’re not going to blame me for what happened.”

  “I’m not trying to blame anybody,” Sloane said. “I just want the truth. I want to know what happened to my mother. Wouldn’t you want the same if you were me?”

  She didn’t seem to have a ready answer. At length, Katrina said, “Of course. Anyone would. But I had nothing to do with it. Ed said she left. That’s all I know.”

  The waitress brought their drinks, so Sloane waited before continuing the conversation. “You believed him? You never doubted, never saw anything that made you wonder?”

  She pulled her purse into her lap and scooted her chair back. “I’m not sure I’m willing to continue with this.”

  “Because...”

  “Because I don’t like being put on the spot.”

  “So you were sleeping with my father.”

  With a sigh, she suddenly gave up the charade and scooted her chair back under the table. “If I was the only one, maybe I’d feel guilty about that. But I wasn’t. Your father slept with most of the girls who worked for him. Once your mother had children, he wasn’t as attracted to her. At least, that was the excuse he gave me.”

  Sloane was afraid she might break her glass she clutched it so tightly. What a bastard... Even if her father wasn’t guilty of murder, he wasn’t exactly admirable.

  “I wasn’t the aggressor,” Katrina was saying, still trying to absolve herself of any guilt. “I wasn’t out to break up your family.”

  Sloane forced herself to let go of her glass so she could stir another packet of sugar into her iced tea. “So why’d you do it?”

  “I don’t know. I was nineteen. Nineteen-year-olds do a lot of stupid things. I suppose I was flattered by the attention of my rich boss.”

/>   At least that part seemed genuine. The rest? Sloane wasn’t so sure. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  Katrina blinked at Sloane’s sudden reversal. “You’re not upset?”

  “It’s more that I’m not surprised.”

  “About...”

  Sloane chose not to elaborate. “Did my father ever say anything about my mother that gave you a funny feeling?”

  Katrina screwed up her face, apparently considering her response. “No. Never.”

  “Was he sad she was gone?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But you just told me he wasn’t attracted to her.”

  “Sexually, he wasn’t. It doesn’t mean he didn’t love her.”

  “It sort of does,” Sloane argued. “He started openly dating you, a woman half his age, within two months of her disappearance. That says something, too, doesn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “People react to grief differently.”

  “You don’t suspect he might’ve had any culpability in her disappearance?”

  She shook her head, but the fear in her eyes contradicted her denial. “Believe me, the man I knew would never hurt anyone,” she said, “least of all the mother of his children.”

  “He hurt her by sleeping around.”

  “I mean he wouldn’t physically hurt her. Your father was a devoted family man.”

  Again, Sloane felt a certain disconnect, as if Katrina was rehearsing words that had no meaning for her. “How could he be a serial cheater and a devoted family man? A man who was broken up about the loss of his wife and someone who was ready to move on within weeks?”

  “Men are men. They may chase a few skirts. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe having sex with me was how he dealt with his grief.”

  This wasn’t making any sense, and Sloane was beginning to suspect she knew the reason. “Thanks for being so transparent with me.”

  Katrina didn’t seem to know how to interpret her comment. “You’re welcome,” she said at length.

  Sloane made a show of picking up her purse and digging through it. “Do you happen to have the time? I’m supposed to take some medication at twelve thirty...”

  Katrina found her phone. “Twelve twenty.”

  “Oh good. I’ve got ten minutes. Would you mind setting a timer?”

  “Not at all.” She tapped in her password so she could utilize her clock app. “Why are you on medication? Is there something wrong with you?” She set her phone by her plate.

  “I’m on an antibiotic to clear up a bronchial thing, that’s all.” Sloane put her glass down and pretended it was an accident when she tipped it over.

  Katrina shrieked and jumped to her feet but not fast enough to avoid a lapful of cold liquid. Fortunately, the tea had run straight across the table and not doused the phone. “Damn it!” she cursed as she tried to brush off what she could.

  “I’m so sorry!” Sloane offered those around them who’d turned at the disruption a sheepish smile so they’d go back to their meals.

  “This is a new skirt!” Katrina complained and hurried off to the bathroom so she could clean up.

  As soon as she was gone, Sloane rescued the phone so it wouldn’t get wet—and scanned through Katrina’s recent call history.

  Sure enough, immediately after Sloane had spoken to Katrina to set up this lunch yesterday, Katrina had called Millcreek’s city hall. There were several calls and texts between her and Ed’s cell phone since then, too.

  Sloane clenched her jaw as she read through them.

  Are you sure I should have lunch with her?

  Yes, of course.

  I don’t know. I’d love to meet her now that she’s a famous model and everything—my brother would flip his shit if I was able to hook him up with her—but I’m a little nervous about everything that happened.

  As far as you know, nothing happened. Why not take the opportunity to disarm her for me? Convince her I was destroyed by Clara’s disappearance.

  I doubt she’ll believe me.

  I don’t remember you being a bad liar.

  I’m not as good as you! And she doesn’t trust me to begin with, so that’s not an easy place to work from.

  Come on. I’ll make it worth your while. Tell her that we didn’t get involved until after Clara left, that you were merely trying to comfort me and things got a little out of control.

  Maybe we should rehearse it, then? Do some role-playing? And you can tell me what you’ll give me for helping out. ;)

  I remember you like jewelry.

  I do. I’ll call you in a minute.

  The texts ended there. Sloane had no idea what had been discussed on the subsequent call, but she was checking to see if there’d been any email exchanges between them when Katrina came back.

  “What are you doing?” she cried as she rushed forward.

  Sloane cursed silently. She’d been hoping to forward those texts and any emails to herself or take pictures of them with her own phone, but she hadn’t had enough time. “Just making sure you’re as full of shit as I thought.” She slid the phone back over by Katrina’s plate before tossing a twenty on the table for the meal she wasn’t going to eat. “You can send the rest of the bill to my father or take it out of whatever he promised you to lie to me,” she said.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, no?” Micah said.

  His police chief continued clipping his nails into the trash can he’d pulled out from under the desk. “I have to explain that answer?” He didn’t bother to glance up.

  “I’d appreciate a reason, sir. I said I’d look into it on my own time, that it doesn’t have to be anything official, which shouldn’t be a problem. I’m only asking for the file, so I can see what’s been done so far, who’s been interviewed and what they said. It’s been a while, might be time to go back and interview everyone again.”

  “I looked at the file myself day before yesterday. There’s nothing of any merit in there.”

  Micah stepped forward. “You have the file? That’s why I haven’t been able to find it here at the station?”

  Adler shoved his trash can back under the desk and scooted forward. “I took it home with me right after I heard that Sloane was back in town.”

  “And?”

  “Like I said, there’s nothing in it that warrants a closer look.”

  Micah threw up his hands. “So who’s been interviewed?”

  “Everyone who should’ve been.”

  Micah had a hard time believing that. “And? What did they say? Where’s Clara McBride?”

  “They didn’t know, and neither do I. But I have no reason to believe this is a police matter.”

  “No one has seen or heard from Sloane’s mother since the night she disappeared. How often does a woman go missing without any further word and still be alive?”

  “It happens.”

  “Not as often as she turns up dead.”

  “That’s the thing. There’ve been no reports of a body, no notable amount of blood or sign of a struggle, and no witnesses have come forward with any accusations.”

  Because there was no one other than Sloane in her parents’ house that night! “A devoted mother like Clara wouldn’t walk off and leave her kids.”

  “Depends on how badly she might want to get away from her domineering husband, right? Clara knew Ed would never allow her to take the children. Leaving alone would be her only escape.”

  “So you’re admitting he was domineering.”

  “Anyone who’s been around Ed for five minutes could tell you that.”

  “You’re also acknowledging that she was unhappy in the marriage.”

  “Ed’ll tell you himself that they were struggling. He thinks she was having an affair and that she ran off to be with the other guy.”

  “She wasn’t
having an affair, but she was falling in love with Brian Judd, who taught kindergarten right here at Millcreek Elementary.”

  Adler’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”

  “You mean to say Ed never mentioned the name of the guy she was supposedly cheating with? That’s pretty pertinent information, a detail most people would want to know. But I can see why he might leave it out—since it also happens to contradict the whole ‘she ran away to be with her lover’ excuse, seeing as her lover never went anywhere. She walked away from the man she was getting involved with here in Millcreek along with everyone else, which is even more unusual.”

  Adler scowled, clearly not pleased by Micah’s rebuttal. “It’s not all that unusual if she was planning to start over brand-new. Judd was married, too. It wasn’t as if she could have him.”

  So he did know about Judd. “He might’ve left his wife, if given the chance.”

  “And he might’ve told Clara he never would. We don’t know. We weren’t privy to their secret conversations.”

  “Still, if Ed believed his wife was having an affair, he couldn’t have been happy about it. No matter how unemotional he might seem about that news today, in his mind, she was cheating on him. That creates motive.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Adler snapped.

  Micah reared back, shocked by the sudden flash of temper as Adler got up, came around and closed his door. “You’re talking about the mayor,” he said in a harsh whisper. “We don’t go around accusing people, especially people like him, not without hard evidence.”

  “We might not have hard evidence, but we certainly have circumstantial evidence.”