In Close

by Brenda Novak

  A curious breach of loyalty… Had it caused problems between them? That certainly didn’t appear to be the case. But it must have angered Joe that his twin hadn’t acted to protect his marriage. Joe’s wife, Lilly, had stuck by him despite the rumors, but Peter had no way of knowing that when he spouted off about that supposedly “odd” phone call.

  Maybe Peter didn’t like Lilly. He was divorced. Maybe he wanted to get rid of her. Then he and his brother would be similarly unfettered and have even more time to build their business, go hunting, fishing or hang out at the bar.

  Claire planned to ask Joe, again, why his brother had said what he did—if she ever got the opportunity to talk to him. His truck sat in the driveway, but he wasn’t answering his door.

  Lifting her hand, she pounded on the panel for a second time. “Joe? I’m not leaving. You might as well open up.”

  Nothing.

  “Joe? Come on. I really need to talk to you.”

  She heard her name. But it wasn’t Joe who said it. This voice came from across the street.

  When Claire turned she saw Carly Ortega, the woman who claimed to have seen Alana’s car at Joe’s house on more than one occasion, once late at night. Claire had spoken to her a couple of times over the years. She stood by her original testimony. “Did you just call me?” she asked.

  Carly stepped out of the shade and into the sun. Ill more often than not with a variety of maladies, some more than likely psychosomatic, Carly was wearing a robe. “I’m just trying to tell you it won’t do any good to keep knocking. He’s not home.”

  Because she rarely left the house, Carly probably experienced more than her share of boredom. But did she have to be quite as nosy as she was? “You’re sure?” Claire yelled back. “His truck’s here.”

  “I saw him leave with Donald Salter an hour ago.”

  What would he want with Jeremy’s father? Claire hadn’t thought they knew each other all that well.

  She crossed the street so she could talk to Carly without raising her voice. “I didn’t realize he and Don were friends.”

  “Neither did I. Don doesn’t come around here very often.”

  “Any idea where they might have gone?” It was none of her business, of course, but Claire figured she might as well learn as much as Carly would tell her. Carly didn’t care if she was inserting herself in matters that didn’t concern her; maybe she had information that would indicate when Joe might return.

  “No clue. Joe keeps to himself. You know that.”

  Probably better than anyone. How frustrating for a gossipmonger like Carly. “Right. Well—” she glanced at Joe’s closed-up house “—thanks for letting me know.”

  “Want me to tell him you stopped by?”

  It didn’t matter what Claire said; Carly would do it, anyway. No doubt she’d march over with the news as soon as he got home. “If you want.”

  Claire started for her car, but Carly surprised her by speaking again.

  “You hold it against me, don’t you?”

  She pivoted. “Excuse me?”

  “What I told the police about your mom.”

  “That she and Joe were having an affair? I don’t hold it against you. I just don’t believe it’s true.”

  “I didn’t say they were having an affair.” She went to the hose faucet, turned it on and began watering her roses. “I said she came over here. I saw her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

  “So you’ve told me before.”

  “But—” She hesitated.

  “But?”

  “Falling in love with someone other than her husband wouldn’t mean she’s a bad person.”

  “Marital infidelity is hardly honorable.”

  “Still, Joe’s been miserable with Lilly from the beginning. Maybe your mother was just as unhappy with Tug.”

  “She could’ve divorced him.”

  “She’d already failed at her first marriage. And he was a good father to you and your sister, so she probably felt guilty for not wanting him. Maybe she couldn’t face another divorce and got caught up in something that was bigger than she was.”

  “That’s a very romantic view. Anyway, what makes you think Joe and Lilly are unhappy?”

  “You don’t go to Idaho as often as she does unless you want to.”

  “Her mother’s sick.”

  “She has a sister who helps out a lot.”

  Claire nibbled on her bottom lip. She didn’t feel good about looking for secrets and lies in other people’s lives. And yet…she needed to pull at any loose threads—the details that might lead to more. “Does Lilly believe her husband was cheating on her?” Claire had tried talking to Lilly, but she was even more closed than Joe. No matter what Claire asked, she’d reply, “I have nothing to say.”

  “I believe she wouldn’t put it past him. She’s hanging on for the sake of their kids. Just between us, she’s said as much to me. Once they’re grown-up, in another four years or so, I see her moving to Idaho.”

  Claire stared down the street, wondering at her mother’s feelings when she drove Leanne here the day she’d learned about the tape. She must have felt shock and horror. But what other emotions? Jealousy? Anger? Fear? Embarrassment? “Do you remember the Fishman family?” she asked.

  “Of course.” Carly pointed at the house next to Joe’s.

  Unfortunately, the Welches lived there these days and hadn’t taken care of the place, but it’d been a nice home once upon a time, certainly better than the smattering of old trailers that were so prevalent in the Thompson Chain of Lakes area.

  “They lived right there for ten years,” she said.

  “Leanne used to be good friends with Katie.”

  “I remember that, too. She was over all the time. They used to take turns babysitting for Joe and Lilly.”

  Which meant Joe had certainly had occasion to expose himself to Leanne, just as she’d had occasion to develop inappropriate fantasies, at least one of which she’d acted out.

  “Yes, they’d just had Chantelle, their oldest. Hard to fathom it’s been that long.”

  “Where do the Fishmans live now?” Claire asked. “Do you know?”

  Other than a standard interview performed a couple of weeks after Alana’s disappearance, in which the Fishmans said they hadn’t noticed whether or not Alana’s car was ever parked at Joe’s house, they’d never been questioned. But that pornographic video changed Claire’s level of interest in what they might have to say. Surely if Joe had made inappropriate advances toward Leanne, Leanne would’ve told Katie about it.

  “They’re in Salt Lake,” Carly said. “I got a card from them last Christmas.”

  “Katie’s there, too?”

  “I’m not sure. She got married several years ago.”

  Did she and Leanne still keep in touch? If so, Leanne hadn’t mentioned her for years. “Would you mind giving me their address?” Knowing she had to come up with a plausible reason, one that wouldn’t arouse Carly’s curiosity, she added, “I’d like to surprise Leanne with it.”

  “That’s a great idea! I bet Katie would love to hear from her. Just a sec.” After handing Claire the hose, she went inside the house.

  Before she could return, a car careered around the corner and sped down the street. It was Don, with Joe in the passenger seat. Claire doubted she would’ve recognized Jeremy’s father if he hadn’t been driving Jeremy’s car, a rattletrap Impala that was pretty unmistakable.

  A moment later, Don whipped into Joe’s driveway and Joe got out. He glanced over, but then ducked his head and headed to the front door as if he couldn’t get in fast enough. Obviously, he’d recognized her and was running for cover.

  Claire was about to drop the hose and hurry after him. She didn’t want to miss her chance to speak to him; she doubted he’d come to the door if she knocked. But Don had backed out of the drive and was sitting in the street between them, staring at her through the open window. He’d aged twenty years, it seemed, since she’d seen him last.


  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Nothing.” His tires squealed as he drove off, but their brief interaction had made Joe pause, too. He looked after Don, an enigmatic expression on his face, as Carly came out.

  “Here you go. You should be able to reach Katie through her parents, even if she’s not in Salt Lake.”

  Claire relinquished the garden hose and accepted the paper. “Thanks, Carly. I appreciate it.” She thought she’d have to hurry over, that Joe would try to avoid her as he had in the past, but he didn’t. This time, he waited.

  “Are you ready to talk to me?” she asked as she walked up his drive.

  His gaze fell to the paper in her hand. She doubted he could read it. She crumpled it, just in case, but she knew he’d seen Carly give it to her, so maybe that was the reason for his interest. “I don’t have a choice. You won’t quit.”

  Claire’s mouth went dry. “Is that a yes?”

  Shading his eyes from the sun, he looked across at his neighbor. “What’d Carly have to say?”

  “I’ll tell you if you invite me in.”

  His forehead creased as he cursed. “No. I don’t want her or anyone else to see us talking. Meet me at my brother’s place in fifteen minutes.”

  “I don’t know where he lives.”

  After some quick directions, he went inside and slammed the door, but she didn’t care. He’d finally agreed to talk to her—after fifteen years.

  Hope made her steps light as she returned to her car and started the engine. She was so sure that having Joe’s cooperation would make a difference, she even managed a smile and a wave for Carly.

  But once she got to Peter’s house, she realized just how remote it was and began to grow uneasy. She’d kept on driving, hoping he lived in a cluster of houses as was so often the case in Pineview, but the house she came upon was the only one in the area.

  Joe hadn’t invited her to the back of beyond as some kind of a trap, had he?

  She pulled in behind Peter’s truck, which was parked in the drive. He was home, but that didn’t make her feel a whole lot better. Not long ago she’d seen a horrifying forensics program about four brothers who’d beaten a man to death and supposedly fed his body to their hogs…?.

  Thick as thieves… The words her friends had used to describe Joe and Peter ran through her mind as she gazed out at Peter’s small cabin. Could both brothers have been party to whatever happened to her mother?

  Claire couldn’t believe that. Peter wouldn’t have said he thought Joe was having an affair with Alana if he’d helped murder her. Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he’d opened his mouth before learning that his brother was responsible.

  She was letting her imagination run away with her. But she didn’t have a cell phone since there was no service. And now that she’d seen this isolated setting, showing up here seemed an unnecessary risk. No one even knew where she was.

  Planning to leave while she still could, she put the transmission in Reverse, but she had nowhere to go. Joe had arrived and parked behind her, effectively trapping her car. She saw his grille in her rearview mirror just as she was about to back out and had to stomp on the brake.

  “Shit!” she breathed, her mind racing as he got out.

  He came toward her wearing a dark scowl and paused near her door with his hands on his hips as if he expected her to get out and go inside with him.

  Eyes gravitating to his work boots—they looked just like the pair she’d seen on the man who’d followed her to the cabin—her pulse leaped.

  What was she going to do?

  Peter came out, distracting them both. He exchanged a few words with Joe that culminated in angry voices and plenty of cursing, which got louder, making it easy to hear what they were saying.

  “It’s your fault,” Joe responded. “You’re the one who told everyone Alana and I were having an affair.”

  “That’s before I knew it could get you—” Peter glanced in her direction and stopped. “Shit, Joe. This is screwed up, man. I don’t want to be dragged into this. I’m the one who told you to stay away from Alana in the first place. What if the cops—”

  Claire screamed as Joe slammed a fist down on the hood of her car. “I don’t care. This won’t go away! Let’s take her inside and get it over with. Otherwise, she’ll head back to town and go straight to the sheriff.” Get what over with? Claire had heard enough. She put her car in Drive but there was no more room to go forward than there was to go back. She could only remain in her locked car.

  But that was hardly safe. If they really wanted to get to her, all they had to do was break a window.

  Joe was already knocking on the glass. Peter had walked across the lawn and was on the passenger side. Their vehicles penned her in front and back, and the two men penned her in on the left and right.

  Leaning on the roof of her car with both hands, Peter shook his head as Joe yelled for her to get out.

  “No!” she called back. “Let me go!”

  “You can’t let her drive away now,” Peter warned. “Man, this was such a mistake! What were you thinking, bringing her up here?”

  “Shut up!” Joe knocked harder. “Claire, get out. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I have something to show you. It might tell you what happened to your mother.”

  Or he was lying, the information he claimed to possess simply an incentive to lure her inside.

  “What did you do to her?” she yelled. “Why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t do anything! Would you quit freaking out? I’m trying to help you!”

  “Then why did you follow me to her studio?”

  “That wasn’t me!”

  “Did you trash my house?”

  “No!”

  “How’d you hear about it?”

  “You’re kidding, right? There are no secrets in Pineview.”

  Except the one she’d been chasing for fifteen years.

  “Just get out and come inside with us, and I’ll tell you what I know. That way, maybe we can put a stop to what’s going on.”

  She didn’t trust him. She started her car, determined to crash into both vehicles if necessary in order to create enough space to get her Camaro out from between them, but she didn’t have the chance.

  Peter picked up a rock and bashed in the passenger’s-side window just as her car jumped forward and struck his bumper. The impact threw her back against the seat, but she reached for the gearshift, planning to reverse and punch the gas again when Peter climbed in through the passenger side and held her hand in place so she couldn’t.

  A second later, Joe dragged her from the car.

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  25

  “At least they took out our stitches while we were at the hospital,” Isaac said.

  Claire slid her hand up his naked torso and pressed her lips to the steady beat at his throat. They were in bed at a motel in Kalispell, where they’d been for more than twenty-four hours. Isaac had insisted they not return to Pineview, said he wanted to get some sleep where he knew they’d be safe. He’d even parked his truck in the back, so it couldn’t be seen from the street.

  “That’s not much consolation,” she said. “Your house is destroyed. All your furniture, all your clothes. We don’t even know how much of the forest went up.”

  “Last I heard they were getting it under control.” He concealed a yawn, but it didn’t come off as indifferent or uncaring. They were both groggy after a week of such intense emotion and so much loss. If Isaac was like her, he was just glad to feel safe for the moment. “It didn’t reach your mother’s studio,” he added, “so it could’ve been worse.”

  “It took your house. That’s bad enough.”

  “I’m not thrilled about losing everything. I’m even less thrilled about being displaced.” He adjusted the bed
ding so he could pull her against him. “But we’re alive, right?”

  She laughed as he rubbed his cheek with its new beard growth against her neck. “Right.”

  He raised his head. “And everything was insured. My camera, my lenses…”

  “What about the things money can’t buy?” she asked, threading her fingers through his hair. “All your footage, the DVDs and negatives, your notes—”

  “The really important stuff’s in a safe. Provided that safe is as fireproof as I was told when I bought it, I’ll be fine. And I managed to save my computer, which has my latest projects on the hard drive—”

  “You saved it at the risk of your life.” She scowled to show her disapproval. “And it still makes me mad. You have no idea how long those few seconds were when you didn’t come out.”

  He grinned as he tweaked her chin. “I still don’t know what you thought you were doing trying to get back inside.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get inside. It just looked that way.”

  One palm cupped her breast as he leaned up on his elbow. “Tell the truth. You were coming back for me.”

  She gave him a saucy look. “No, I wanted to save that hippo print you said I could have.”

  He pecked her lips. “We’ll get a new one printed.”

  “You’re lucky your wallet was in the pocket of the jeans you pulled on,” she mused. “Or you’d be depending on me for everything.” She sort of liked that idea, at least as a temporary arrangement, but she knew he wouldn’t.

  “See?” he responded. “There’s a lot to be grateful for.”

  She smiled at the way his hair stood up. They’d been sleeping for hours, had made love and then slept some more. She wasn’t even aware of the time, didn’t care how late it was. She was sure everybody in Pineview had heard about the fire, doubted anyone would expect her to be at the salon, including those who had an appointment. But she’d called Leanne and asked her to post a sign, just in case. “You’re really okay with letting the rest go?”