Brenda Novak - In Close

Claire stared at the carpet, studying the large flowers as if tracing them on paper. “That doesn’t make sense. He was at least seventeen to eighteen years older than she was.”

“But she had a thing for him. You remember Katie, don’t you?”

How could she forget Katie? Her sister’s best friend had been almost as hard to put up with as Leanne. “Of course. She lived next door to Joe until her family moved during her and Leanne’s junior year.”

“That’s right. I guess—” his words fell off but he seemed to marshal the resolve to continue “—I guess Leanne was coming on to him.”

Sickened, Claire covered her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “How does a thirteen-year-old girl come on to a thirtysomething man?”

“I can’t talk about it. I…won’t talk about it. It’s too upsetting to me, and I’d rather keep the unflattering details private, for your sister’s sake. To be fair to her, that was a long time ago, and…and sometimes girls get themselves mixed up in stuff like that when they’re discovering their sexuality. Or so I’m told,” he added in a mumble.

Claire had never even been tempted to come on to a man nearly two decades older, but…she decided to give her sister the benefit of the doubt.

“Just know that she was young and confused and tried to…entice him,” he went on.

“And you’re sure he—” Her throat closed up. After swallowing, she began again. “Did he act on what she offered him?”

“No.”

“He might have done more than you think. Maybe that’s what instigated…her interest.”

“He had proof when he called us, Claire.”

Claire couldn’t help thinking of Leanne in that nightgown. She’d assumed her sister’s promiscuity stemmed from the accident, but this made her wonder if it’d started at a much earlier age. “What kind of proof?”

“A video she made for him.”

Gross… Claire couldn’t bear to think about it. But she still needed the answers she’d been searching for from the beginning. “So…what does Leanne’s being out of school on the day Mom went missing have to do with any of this?”

“It was that morning Joe contacted us with the…news. Your mother was so upset when she heard it, she called me in tears. I’d dropped her off after having a cup of coffee and a doughnut with her, had just arrived at the gun shop, so I asked her to wait until I could get off work, told her we’d deal with it then. I couldn’t leave. I had nobody to watch the store. Walt was out of town and depending on me, and Don Salter, who could’ve replaced me, wouldn’t answer his phone.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts or his emotions or both before continuing. “But apparently she couldn’t wait. She marched down and signed Leanne out of school so she could talk to her before you were home.”

“And what did Leanne have to say?”

“She denied the whole thing. So Alana took her over to Joe’s, and he showed them the tape.”

That was why Leanne had never mentioned being out of school. She didn’t want to admit she’d made a pornographic video at thirteen, which she used to solicit a married man. Claire also understood why Tug had kept quiet all these years. But how had Joe and that tape and Leanne’s behavior affected the investigation into Alana’s disappearance? It must have hampered the sheriff’s ability to do a thorough job with everyone being careful not to say too much about the day in question.

“Why hasn’t Joe told anyone?” Claire asked. “Like one of the investigators you hired?”

“Because he’s a good man.”

If what she was hearing was true, Claire had to agree. He’d tolerated a lot of talk, been convicted of committing adultery with her mother in the court of public opinion, and yet he’d never stepped forward to point a finger at Leanne. That certainly changed how she thought of him.

Now she could explain some of those “inconsistencies” listed in that file. But what did that have to do with her mother’s disappearance? Or were the incident with Joe and the kidnapping two separate items?

“So…Mom took her back to school?” Claire remembered there being some confusion about that in what she’d read.

“No. She was crying too hard. She’d had a terrible fight with Leanne. You can imagine what it must’ve been like after they left Joe’s. So I closed up and took Leanne back to school for her. I thought it might help your mother to have some time alone.”

“When was that?”

“I can’t remember exactly. About one o’clock, I think.”

But the log said Leanne hadn’t signed in until two. “And Mom was…”

“At the house. That’s where I left her.”

“And she was fine?”

“As fine as could be expected, under the circumstances.”

That meant Alana had gone missing between one and three-thirty, when she and Leanne got home. “That’s why you were so worried when I called that day.”

“Yes. I was worried before you called.”

This made sense, but what about the previous sightings of her car at Joe’s house—if those reports were true? “Thanks for telling me.”

He lowered his voice. “What are you going to do with the information? Roni, even Joe’s wife—they don’t know, Claire. I don’t want it coming out. It would really hurt Leanne and could cause problems for Joe.”

Obviously, he felt that being honest with her had betrayed her sister. They’d always been close. “Nothing. For now,” she told him.

“Leanne’s your sister.” The caution in his tone suggested she should protect the secret as well as he had. But if everyone was protecting this secret or that secret, how would the sheriff’s department ever get to the bottom of what had gone wrong?

Claire felt she owed Leanne a lot. They were sisters, as her stepfather had just pointed out. She understood how the slightest upset could throw Leanne into a tailspin, especially since the accident. But did those considerations outweigh the hope that full disclosure and absolute honesty might bring Alana back—or catch the man who killed her?

7

Working for himself made it possible for Isaac to accept only jobs that excited him. It also enabled him to do a lot of projects on spec. He often edited his own footage and created pilots and trailers, which his agent submitted to various film and television producers. For the print photography side of his business, he had a different agent who sent his pictures to various magazines internationally, as well as book publishers. He’d recently sold a coffee-table book, which would be a collection of some of his finest photographs.

He loved what he did. He could get lost in editing and refining his films and photographs for hours. After Claire had married David, his work gave him something he could devote himself to full-time so he wouldn’t have to dwell on his personal life—what he’d thrown away when he rejected Claire. His career also meant he was gone a lot, so he didn’t have to be constantly reminded....

But somewhere along the line, all the flights and airport transfers and taxis and hotels had begun to wear on him. Traveling so much started feeling more like drudgery, like running away, than career advancement. Which was why he’d decided to take an extended break. It wasn’t as if he had to go anywhere. He was in the middle of several projects he could finish right here, like the Alaskan sled dog series he was working on. He had plenty of footage from last winter when he’d gone to live with a family of Eskimos in northern Alaska. He was pretty sure he’d be able to sell it to his friend at Nat Geo. Michael had bought a lot of pictures from him in the past, had been a fan since his first spread in National Geographic, back when Michael had worked for the magazine, before he joined the TV network.