Amanda found a small notebook she kept in her purse and Max handed her a pen as if he knew what she needed. Maybe he'd always known what she'd needed but just didn't understand how to give it. She jotted down the information Clare gave her. Her daughter's voice was less shaky now.
"What about Shara?" Clare asked. "Have you found her?"
There was desperate hope in her voice and Amanda knew that quality all too well. "We found someone who's seen her in a bead shop. We have the cell number of the woman she's with, and Gillian's partner is getting an address so we have somewhere to go to.
"I should fly out there."
"No, Clare. Listen to me. We don't know what Shara is into, and we're afraid it's nothing good. There's no point that you're in danger, too. Just stay there and wait."
"But she's my daughter."
"I know."
Silence on the other end told Amanda that Clare was thinking about all the times when all they could to was wait...all the times this heartache had plagued her parents, never leaving them for a minute.
"Tell me more about your visit with Amy."
"It wasn't a visit. She's so...removed. She's had tons of counseling and it shows. Not that that isn't a good thing. But I didn't feel any connection. I couldn't tell if she was Lynnie. And, if she is— I'm not sure she wants anything to do with us. I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I mean it, Clare. When Dad and I get back to the hotel, we'll call her. I don't think it's a good idea to do it when we're out and about."
"You'll let me know if you find out anything about Shara?"
"If we find out anything, I promise I'll call. We love you, Clare." Amanda felt her voice closing as she ended the call. "You heard my side of that," she said to Max. Her words trembled as she explained that Clare had felt nothing with Amy. "And it sounds as if Amy felt no bond with her!"
He was silent. Finally he said, "We'll call...Amy...when we get back." He reached across the table and took Amanda's hand. "We'll make things up to Clare. Somehow we will. And if Amy is Lynnie, we'll figure out a way to reach her. We have to."
At that moment, Gillian's phone beeped. She snatched it up. "Jake?" After a short back and forth, she looked at Amanda then Max. "I have Courtney's address and Jake is e-mailing her driver's license photo. What do you want to do next?"
****
Chapter Ten
Nothing ever turned out as you expected it to, did it?
Glancing at the clock on the stove, Clare saw that it was almost four. She'd been scrubbing the kitchen ever since she returned home from the interview with Amy and the phone call to her parents. She had to do something to keep busy or she'd go crazy. She couldn't go back to work. She was afraid she'd make mistakes there. So here she was, pots and pans pulled out of the cupboard as she rearranged them, spices on the counter that she wanted to put in alphabetical order. Drawer liner lay on the counter along with the scissors. She couldn't seem to focus on any one task. If her mom didn't call back soon with news about Shara—
She might not call for a while. Albuquerque was a big place. They were three hours behind there. God knew what was happening. She should be there, shouldn't she? Every thought in her head ran into the next one.
When there was a rap on the kitchen door, she stopped cutting shelf paper. She hurried to the door and flung it open, not knowing what she expected to see, or who she expected to see. Maybe her mind had leapt ahead to when her parents would be there with Shara.
But she found Joe. He took one look at her, then stepped over the threshold with take-out bags filling his arms. "You didn't call so I assumed you hadn't heard anything."
"My parents have picked up leads, but..." Her voice faltered. "They don't know anything for sure."
He set the bags on the table, then turned to face her, his hand on her shoulder. "And how did the interview go?"
"It was upsetting and confusing, for me more than for her."
"You should have called me."
"Why?"
He gave her a long, sober look. "We could talk about it. You can't keep this all bottled up, Clare."
"Joe, I don't know what I'm doing. I can't keep a straight thought in my head. Just look at this kitchen. I'm trying to clean and I can't remember what goes in what cupboard."
He dropped his hand from her shoulder. "I thought we were friends."
She averted her gaze, went to the counter, started putting spices back in the cupboard. "We are."
"Clare, stop and look at me." His voice was coaxing.
She slowly turned to face him. "If you want something from me, Joe, I certainly can't give it. Not now."
"Want something? I don't want anything, except for you to lean on me a little. That's what friends do."
"I was thinking not very nice thoughts today. You want me to share those with you?"
He frowned. "You can share whatever you want. I'm not going to judge—"
"Oh, people always say that. But then the words come out of your mouth and they look shocked, and they do judge. How can I expect you to be any different?"
"Who judged you?" he asked, gently.
"You're kidding, right? I was an unwed mother. Everyone judged me, from my parents to my teachers to friends and neighbors. And now, now I have a run-away daughter. I know how people will look at me. What did she do to make her daughter run away? Why didn't she have better control? Why wasn't she a better parent? That's judging, Joe."
"Do you think I asked any of those questions?"
"You're not a regular guy if you haven't."
His lips twitched up in a wry smile. "I've never thought of myself as a regular guy. I'm just me, Clare. You don't think I made mistakes when I was younger, trusted the wrong people, fell in love with the wrong girl? You act as if those things are crimes. They're part of life experience."
"That's one way of looking at becoming a mother before I was ready. But that's the detached way of looking at it. I lived it. I disappointed my parents. I wasn't everything they thought Lynnie would grow up to be. I didn't protect my sister and I obviously haven't protected my daughter."
He was already shaking his head. "You're too rough on yourself."
"The next thing you're going to say is that you don't think my parents are the type to make me feel inferior, to make me feel as if I could never do anything right, to have expectations I couldn't meet. You're going to say they love me and I should just be grateful for that love."
"Now who's judging who? You think you know what I think?"
Tears welled up much too quickly. "I don't care what you think. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I lost my sister, and Amy Fields just doesn't seem to be her. And if she is, then that means I'm not too crazy about who Lynnie is all grown up. I only want my daughter back safe and sound and I don't know what to do to get her here."
"Are you going to push everyone away who wants to care about you until that happens?" His voice had a rougher edge now, and Clare realized this conversation wasn't easy for him, either.
"Letting you in takes my focus away from Shara. Can't you see that?"
"No. What I see is a woman who's afraid. You're afraid your parents are blaming you for this, too, though I don't think they ever blamed you for your sister being kidnapped. You're a woman who's afraid that if Shara does come back, or if your parents find her and drag her back, she'll just run away again. You're a woman who's afraid to let a man get too close because if he does, he might leave you like your dad did...like Shara's dad did." Joe looked as if he was just as shocked he'd said all that, as she was to hear it.
Her voice shook when she said, "I think you'd better go."
"No, Clare, that's one thing I'm not going to do. I'm not going to leave."
"I don't want you here analyzing me. I don't want you here thinking you know me. I don't want you here—"
"Getting closer to you?" he cut in, approaching her with a determined look in his eyes. "Take a deep breath, Clare. Think about it, then tell me you do
n't really want me here."
She found herself doing what he said, taking that deep breath, thinking about him standing in her kitchen, acting as if he cared. Tears spilled from her eyes and she crossed her arms around herself as if she could ward off what he might be feeling as well as what she might be feeling...as if she could ward off anyone getting too close...as if she could ward off him.
But unlike so many others in her life, he didn't turn away. He just kept coming. He took her face between his hands and then he kissed her.
****
Amanda was scared silly, scared out of her mind, scared for all of them. Max had used the search engine on his phone, found what he was looking for, and insisted they go to a small shop where he bought some equipment. Gillian and Amanda had waited outside and he hadn't explained himself or what he'd bought. But she'd seen the sign in the window that said, Spy Devices.
This is for Shara, she kept telling herself.
When Max returned to the SUV, he was matter-of-fact. "I can take you two back to the hotel and I can do this myself."
Amanda and Gillian exchanged a glance. "What are you going to do?" Amanda asked.
When he hesitated, Amanda asked again, "Max? You're not going to cut me out of this. Full disclosure."
After what had happened last night, there could be nothing but full disclosure. He seemed to realize that, too, although neither of them knew what making love had meant, or what it would mean to their future.
"I bought a listening device. I can put it on the door and hear what's said inside. We need to figure out if Shara's in any immediate danger."
"But what if someone sees you?" Gillian was remaining silent and calm, though Amanda was getting more anxious by the minute.
"That's why I have to scout around first. Actually, this is a good time of day. Fewer people are around in early afternoon. Like I said, I have to scout it out, and I want to get going. Hotel or with me?"
Amanda immediately turned to Gillian. "I don't want you involved in this. We don't know what's going to happen next. You've already done so much."
After a pensive pause, Gillian said, "Max might need more than one lookout. We'll see what the situation is."
So they did. There were six apartments in the building on two floors. The information Jake had given them told them that Courtney lived on the second floor in 2-C.
Gillian pointed out a silver sporty sedan parked a few cars behind the space where Max had pulled in. "That's Courtney's car. The description and license plate matches what Jake gave me."
So as to not attract attention, Gillian and Amanda stayed in the SUV while Max scouted around. Ten minutes later he was back.
"From what I could tell, I didn't see signs of anyone around in the apartments on Courtney's floor. First floor looks pretty deserted too. There's a balcony in the back and a trellis I can climb on. If I sit low in the corner, grill work will pretty much hide me. I can hunker down a while and just listen to what's going on."
"So you'll need us at the sides to make sure no one comes around the back," Gillian suggested.
"Exactly. There's a tall fence at the back of the property that gives the residence a little privacy. That will work to our benefit. No one across the alley will likely catch sight of me, so all we have to worry about is any foot traffic that will come around back. One of you can stay in the SUV and watch from this side. The other will have to come around back with me."
"I'll do that," Amanda said. "There's no reason for Gillian to stick her neck out more than she has to."
"We all have our cells," Gillian said. "Amanda, you and I will keep ours open. That way we can give each other updates. Do not hesitate to let me know if you need me back there."
Minutes later, Max had unwrapped the equipment and was on his way, Amanda following close behind. As he reached the trellis, she caught his arm. "No heroics."
He gave her a crooked smile. "I'll try to remember that."
But Amanda already knew he was just placating her. He would do whatever he had to do to make sure Shara was safe again. They both would.
Last night in bed, Amanda had realized how fit her husband still was. Ex-husband she reminded herself. Ex-husband. Maybe last night had been all about the past instead of the future. Maybe it had seemed so overwhelming because they both had so many regrets. But maybe, just maybe, they were on their way to something new, something unsullied by what had happened to Lynnie. When Amanda talked to Clare, Clare's assessment of the situation had battered her heart. If this girl Amy wasn't Lynnie, she doubted if they'd ever find her. Would she be able to tell anything from a conversation that Clare couldn't? Were sisters even closer than parents and children? Clare and Lynnie had been.
There was so much to think about as she watched Max climb the trellis, hike himself over the balcony and crouch down, all without a sound. He couldn't talk to them on his cell because he didn't want to make any noise at all. So if he heard something important, she didn't know what he'd do. They really hadn't planned this out. They really hadn't considered all of the ramifications.
On the other hand, maybe he'd learn nothing up there. Maybe he'd learn Shara never wanted to come home. Maybe they'd be spinning their wheels until a resident of the apartment came home from work and they'd have to leave or get caught.
An hour passed so slowly. Amanda found herself counting the number of slats in the fence to distract herself further. She imagined the photos she had in an album of Clare and Shara when Shara was a baby—at one, at two, at three. At one point she wanted to text Clare to stay strong, but she couldn't because she didn't want to cut her connection to Gillian.
Shara had to be in that apartment, didn't she? Max wouldn't still be listening if she wasn't, would he? Since her line to Gillian was open, she whispered to her, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she heard back clearly. Gillian could speak as loud as she wanted in the SUV.
"Isn't anyone coming or going out front?" Amanda asked her.
"Across the street. No one in this building. I think Max assessed the situation pretty well, but it is getting later and the longer he's up there, the more chance he has of being discovered."
"He has a mind of his own," Amanda muttered. No, she probably couldn't pull him away from that door if she wanted to. All the inhabitants inside had to do was open their blind and they'd see him out there. Then what? Would Courtney call the police? Or would she call Justin Davis and he'd come running.
Suddenly she saw movement on the balcony. "Gillian, Max just stood up. I don't know if he's just stretching or—"
He didn't signal to her. After a few moments, he threw his leg over the balcony, climbed onto the trellis, and made his way down to the ground again. That's when he beckoned to her. That's when he said, "Go get in the car, Amanda."
But the way his brows were drawn together, the way the lines around his mouth cut deep, the way his jaw was set, she suspected they weren't going to drive back to the hotel.
"Tell me what's going on."
"Get in the car."
"Don't order me! Tell me what you found out."
His frustrated grunt said that he saw her determination, the spirit that had helped her survive through Lynnie's abduction and everything that came after, the perseverance that urged her to go on. "My God, Amanda. She's pregnant! They made an appointment for her at a clinic where she can have an abortion. They're leaving soon and I'm going to grab her. So go get in the car and be ready to tie her down if you have to."
Amanda wanted to move, she really did. There was immediacy in Max's tone and she knew there'd be no room for error. But the idea of Shara being pregnant and having an abortion and taking her against her will froze Amanda to the spot.
"I can do this, Amanda. She's a minor. If I have Clare's permission to keep her safe, that's all I need."
He took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "Amanda."
This time it was gentleness in his voice and the concern in his eyes that snapped her out of her panic. "All r
ight," she murmured, giving him a nod, turning and hurrying to the SUV.
Max was right behind her. He didn't get into the car with her, but tossed the equipment inside.
Amanda quickly explained to Gillian what was happening and that Max was going to try to snag Shara. Gillian moved into the driver's seat without saying a word.
Holding the open back door, Max said, "This shouldn't be that hard. She's with one other girl. They'll have to walk by us to get to her car. Amanda, you stay down so she doesn't see you. I'll alert you when they come out. I'll keep my back turned until Shara's within grabbing distance. She was putting up a good front, but I think she's unsure about everything they're doing for her, including her appointment at this clinic."
"But if she wants this—" Amanda began.
"If she wants it, we'll take care of her when we get home, one way or another. But for now, she can't think straight here. She probably assumes we'll turn against her, that we'll reject her because of what's happened to her."
"But we didn't reject Clare—"
"We weren't a united front either, though. We shouldn't have let her reject our help. My fault, again. I have learned a few things, Amanda."
They had all learned too many things to count. How would Clare feel when she learned her daughter was pregnant? Amanda knew how she'd felt. She'd felt as if she'd done something terribly wrong, as if she'd failed to teach her daughter everything she should know. Had Shara turned to a boy for the love she hadn't felt her family was giving her? Wasn't that why Clare had gotten pregnant the way she had? History certainly did repeat itself. Somehow they had to break this cycle. Somehow they had to show Shara that she was loved. Amanda knew an abortion was not the way to go. If Shara didn't want the baby, if Clare didn't want the baby, maybe she could raise it.
Oh, Lord, what was she thinking?
She was thinking these were the longest minutes of her life.
Everything that happened next happened so fast, Amanda felt as if she were dreaming it. Only dreams weren't this terrifying. Max stood at the passenger door of the SUV, facing the vehicle, glancing over his shoulder every now and then at the door where Shara and Courtney would emerge.
Her Sister (Search For Love series) Page 11
