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Chapter Thirty-Two

It was after nine-thirty when Alan put Sophie on her leash to walk Clare home. I decided to join them despite having been on my feet for much of the day. The fresh air, already tinged with vibes of fall, would do me good, if only to clear my brain.

After I’d presented the possibility that J.W. could have written the notes warning Liz of danger, then Clare’s admission of her father having those initials for his first and middle names, we took a step back. I wished they’d have dismissed my premise as a ridiculous idea, but Alan thought it had merit.

“We have nothing else,” he remarked, “so I think we need to explore this as a potential lead.”

He wanted to first Google John William Dolan’s name to determine if he had an obituary. Using his phone, he found eight photos, yet Clare rejected each of them, one-by-one.

“My father could still be alive, yet none of these match my memory of him. He’d probably be about 82 years old now.”

“So, he might have wanted to help Liz,” I suggested.

She nodded. “Maybe.”

“Well, we can’t do any more tonight,” Alan said. “I’ll inform Mark in the morning, then check global police and real estate records for John Dolan. If he’s alive, we’ll find him.”

She stood, heading for the front door. “I’ll pray that we do, then hope I can handle whatever follows.”

“I have a feeling you’ve dealt with some difficult things in your life,” Alan said with a reassuring smile. Sophie tried to pull ahead of him, but he had a firm arm and made her heel. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Her eyes clouded, yet she nodded her agreement. “You’re right, and thank you. I’m particularly grateful to have both of you helping me.”

Alan replied as he opened the door. “You’re welcome.”

We waited for a few cars to pass before crossing the street, which gave me an opportunity to view the neighborhood. Directly across, the Presbyterian church had security lights by the entrance and the parking lot.

Kareen and Gerome lived next to it, although shrubbery and a few trees separated their property. They had turned on their living room lights, so I assumed they were home.

Next to them, the doctor and his wife had lights on in a few downstairs rooms, as well as the front porch. That, and an extra car in their driveway, made me think they had company.

Clare had left lights on in every room, including the porch. She must have wanted to eliminate any potential security breach by making it look as though she had a crowd. With the blinds closed, no one would know.

The house next to her, however, was in total darkness. “I guess Jane Windsor goes to bed early,” I said aloud.

“I think so,” Clare replied. “I’ve tried to be neighborly, like going to the grocery store for her, but when she finally answered the door, she merely took the bags from me and closed it again.”

“She’s a strange bird,” Alan remarked. “She wouldn’t even come to the door when I stopped by earlier.”

As we approached the porch, he told us to wait while he and Sophie examined the perimeter. He checked to see that the front door was locked, then strolled around to the back. When they returned, he gave his approval to enter the house. I figured Clare would find his police persona somewhat reassuring.

She unlocked her door and went in with a goodnight wave to us, then I heard the sound of the deadbolt. We turned to head home.

“What took you so long out back?” I queried.

“Sophie followed a scent from the garage to the back stoop,” Alan said. “I used my phone’s flashlight, but didn’t see anything.”

“It could have been a squirrel.”

Alan chuckled. “Probably. Are you ready for ice cream?”

“Of course.” I would have preferred bedtime, but I knew how much he loved his nightly treat.

^^ ^

Sophie stopped at the curb and wouldn’t continue. “Let’s go,” Alan urged. She pulled to go back to Liz’s house.

“Maybe she heard something,” I suggested as I turned my head. I knew her ears picked up sounds long before mine did.

In a moment, I heard Clare opening her door and calling to my husband. He bounded up the steps with Sophie in tow, though it may have been the other way around. I followed, listening to the fear in Clare’s voice.

She held up a beaded necklace. “This was on the kitchen table—and it wasn’t there earlier.” Her eyes pleaded for Alan’s help. “I sent this to Liz from Africa last year, and she told me how much she loved it. Could my sister have been here?”

“I doubt it,” he replied, “though Sophie had followed a scent out back. Do you want me to search the house?”

“Yes, please.”

He and Sophie went from room-to-room while I stayed with Clare in the kitchen. Although she held the necklace with her thumb and index finger, I told her she should place it in a plastic bag so Alan could take it to the forensics department of the county police for analysis.

While she did that, I gazed around the room and found nothing out of place. I tried turning the knob on the back door, but it didn’t budge. The kitchen windows remained locked, and no one could have entered. Either someone had a key or Clare made up her story.

“I don’t know what to think,” I said, trying to again dispel a twinge of disbelief seeping through me.

“Lizzie was here,” she muttered. “I’m sure of it, but why wouldn’t she tell me she’s okay?”

“Let’s think rationally,” I said. “Wouldn’t Liz have stayed to greet you if she’d stopped by? ”

Her eyes became misty. “I don’t know. We haven’t seen each other in over twenty-five years.”

“Then, help me understand. You traveled from Africa to Chicago to Aspen Notch in order to comfort your sister after the sudden death of her husband. Wouldn’t she have been grateful for that?”

Clare blinked to clear her eyes, then pulled out a chair to sit. “It wasn’t exactly like that. My community brought me home because I’d disobeyed a doctor who prescribed a medicine which would have killed my patient. He reported me for misconduct and malfeasance.”

“No one listened to your side of the story?”

“They did, but the Sisters in charge decided I should have a sabbatical before receiving a new assignment. I didn’t want to start over in another location, so I made the excuse that my sister needed me.”

“Was Liz happy when you told her?”

“Let’s just say she wasn’t overly enthusiastic.”

I nodded slowly. “Twenty-five years is a long time.”

“Right, and she really needed me when her son died—but I couldn’t come then. I don’t think she ever understood that.”

“She might have thought you abandoned her the way her father, mother, and child did when they left or died.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

We sat quietly musing the words that had passed between us until Alan returned with Sophie. She trailed behind him, carrying another of Liz’s scarves between her teeth. I smiled to see her canine pride, though I told her to “leave it.”

“There’s no sign that anyone has broken in,” Alan said, “nor did I find anyone lurking upstairs or in the basement. If you feel uncomfortable staying alone, you’re welcome to spend the night in our guest room.”

“I think I’ll be all right.” She handed him the plastic bag with the necklace. “Would you check for fingerprints, please?”

He hesitated for a second, then accepted it. “I’ll drop it off in the morning. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’m positive.” She gave a firm nod that counterbalanced the worry in her eyes. “If Lizzie wants to talk to me, she’ll stay longer the next time.”

Alan had no idea what she meant, but I intended to tell him over a dish of ice cream.