circled on the back of her hand. “Yeah. And we both know that’s not good.”
Her head bobbed. Either she hadn’t noticed they were still holding hands or she needed the contact too much to let go no matter how much she detested him.
“The phone at your sister’s place hasn’t rang once. Home phone numbers are on those lists handed out by the day camp and the school, so we know the odds are any of her friends’ parents would have it, not just Melissa’s cell number.
“We’ve got an Amber Alert up,” he told her. “That may or may not lead to FBI involvement. At this point, with no unexpected dents or scrapes on the vehicle, we don’t have any evidence to suggest your sister was forced off the road. It’s still entirely possible Brianna is with a friend, and has maybe spent the night before so the mom or dad figures Melissa had some crisis but will call tomorrow.”
Despite the fear in her eyes, a tiny hint of hope sparked. “It is possible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He wished he believed it, but didn’t see how it would hurt if she did, at least for a little while.
“Okay.” She ducked her head suddenly, probably to hide tears. “Thank you.”
He bent over her and kissed the top of her head, letting himself inhale the scent that was uniquely Jane. For a moment she seemed to sway toward him, as if she was going to let herself lean, but then she squared her shoulders and straightened, tugging her hand free at the same time.
“You probably have things you need to be doing—”
“I wanted to talk to you some more, and then to your brother-in-law.”
She visibly armored up. “To me?” she said, polite but surprised.
“Yeah. You. You know your sister. You know your niece.”
A cautious nod.
“I expected Drew to have a better idea who his daughter’s best friends are.”
Tiny lines puckered that high forehead. “I think that’s because Bree’s two best friends are both gone. The summer hasn’t been a very good one for her.”
“Gone,” Clay echoed. It had to be a reflection of his job that he equated gone with dead.
“Moved. Well, Poppy’s family moved, and to Texas, no less, which means no visits. They’d been friends since preschool. And then Bree’s other best friend, Schuyler, was in a foster home, but Lissa said the courts finally terminated the mother’s parental rights and they’re trying Schuyler in a potential adoptive home. Which unfortunately is in... I forget. Bend or someplace. Close enough for sleepovers, but not to be in the same school, which means they’ll forget each other by October, probably.”
“Sleepovers,” he repeated.
Her hope brightened. “Schuyler would have been on that class list, but the phone number would have been for the foster parents who don’t have her anymore. It could have been impulsive....”
He was already shaking his head, even though he hated to dim the light in her eyes. “I’ll check. You can count on that. But if your sister was going to take Brianna to a friend’s house, why wouldn’t she have stopped at home first to let her pack a bag? Plus, it doesn’t explain why the accident happened where it did.”
Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right.” Then she cried, “Oh, why doesn’t she wake up and tell us what happened?”
She sounded as if she was angry at her sister, which might be natural, or might not.
“Melissa,” he said, pursuing the thought. “The two of you close?”
Jane’s gaze slid from his in what he recognized as evasion. “Yes.” She hesitated. “I mean, we have our moments. Don’t most siblings?”
“Sure,” Clay said easily. “My brother and I beat the crap out of each other every now and again just for the hell of it.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I can safely say that Lissa and I never get violent. We just, um, have stretches where we don’t talk very often. You know.”
No, he didn’t, but he wanted to. “What about lately? Have you been talking? Would you know if anything was
Learning to Kill: Stories