Page 4

Chapter Four

When we had eaten our fill, Jessica collected our paper plates and napkins for the trash, then Ryan offered to take the empty pizza boxes to our bin in the garage. “It’s not quite dark, Sean, so you and Sophie can play in the yard for a few minutes.”

“I want to hear more about the doctor-pilot,” he argued.

“Well,” Ryan noted, “Sophie needs exercise, so maybe I’ll teach her a new trick while we’re out there.”

Sean frowned. “You can’t because that’s my job.”

“I can if you’re too busy.”

I gave Ryan credit for using psychology. His son could get fixated on a topic, though removing the situation usually resolved the issue. Clare helped when she explained that she had to leave, yet she hoped to see him again soon.

Sean reluctantly agreed before telling her that she should show him pictures of the doctor-pilot after school the next day. Sophie pushed past him to follow Ryan outside which led to the boy chasing the dog across the yard. Clare had barely enough time to respond, while the rest of us laughed at their hasty departure.

“Oh, my,” she sputtered. “He’s quite an imaginative child.”

Jess nodded. “Yes, he is, so thanks for entertaining him.”

“Children love stories,” she replied. “Now, I really must go, and I thank all of you for your hospitality.”

“I’ll walk over with you,” I offered.

“If you don’t need me for anything,” Jessica remarked, “I’m going home.”

Alan walked with her to the back door, thanking her for the ride from the airport and dog care while we were away. He called his appreciation to Ryan, as well, said goodnight to Sean, then whistled for Sophie to come in. After closing and locking the door, he turned to Clare and me, “I think I’ll join the two of you.”

“It’s really not necessary,” she commented. “If Lizzie’s not home yet, I’ll wait on the porch.”

From the front stoop, I didn’t see a light on inside Lizzie’s home and suggested that Clare try calling her sister again. It rang four times and went to voicemail, yet Clare didn’t bother leaving a message. “I can’t imagine where she’s been,” she sighed.

“When’s the last time you spoke with her?” Alan asked.

“Two weeks ago from my community’s Motherhouse in Chicago. That’s our headquarters in the United States. Anyway, I asked if she wanted me to visit, which she did, so I let her know when I booked my flight but haven’t been able to reach her since.”

As we walked, Alan remarked that it seemed strange her sister wouldn’t have returned Clare’s calls, and I verbally agreed.

“You have to remember,” she said, “I was in Africa and calls were expensive. When one or the other of us was busy, we didn’t expect a call back. We’d merely leave a message.”

“Is that why you call her busy Lizzie?” I asked.

She chuckled softly. “She was like that as a child. Mom was older when Liz came along and she loved that my sister could occupy herself, even at a young age.”

“She’s younger than you?” Alan questioned.

“Yes, by almost ten years. She’ll be fifty in a few days, so I planned to stay until her birthday.”

“Her husband died pretty young,” Alan remarked casually after we crossed the street. “I guess I’m assuming they were close in age.”

“Yes, they were, and Ed’s death came as a shock. He died suddenly one Saturday at the golf course. Of course, my sister was devastated, as you can imagine.”

“I’m sure,” I murmured, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t feel the need since she had her phone out and pressed her sister’s number again.

“There’s still no answer,” she sighed. “Maybe there was an event at the country club and she’ll be home later. I’ll just wait here.”

“Could she have placed a key under the mat?” I suggested. Alan, with his police experience, would never have permitted such a custom, but plenty of people didn’t consider hiding a key in a typical place as a threat to their safety.

“I searched there first,” Clare said, “to no avail. It’s too dark to look anywhere else tonight.”

“It’s also getting too chilly for you to remain outside,” I remarked. “Come stay the night with us. We have a guest room, so you’ll be comfortable.”

Alan concurred. “You have your phone and can continue calling your sister. As soon as she gets home, you can head back over. It’s no big deal.”

Clare sighed again. “I suppose you’re right. Once again, Lizzie must be too busy to check her messages.”

^^^

I heard the front door open, then close, just after dawn the next morning. Still groggy, the noise initially startled me until I remembered that Clare had spent the night.

Alan turned to glance at the clock. “I guess ‘busy Lizzie’ is home.”

“Probably,” I murmured sleepily, “yet I need another hour of dozing.” I leaned into his shoulder and immediately fell back to dreamland.

Two hours later, I heard Alan taking a shower and Sophie’s patter of paws on the hallway floor. Figuring she needed to go out, I arose and opened the bedroom door to greet her, though she merely hopped up to the bed. “Come on, girl. I’ll open the back door for you.”

I waited for her to follow me, stopping short at the kitchen.

Clare, sitting on a stool at the island, turned her gaze to me. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

I chuckled, embarrassed that she had. “I didn’t expect to see you here since I heard you leave early this morning.”

“You’re right, but my sister isn’t home yet. I searched for a key, then looked around for some sign that Lizzie lives at 147, which she apparently does because the mail in her curbside box is addressed to her. ”

“No key?”

She solemnly shook her head. “No, though I feel certain she has one hidden. I recall her telling me that she locked herself out of the house and swore it wouldn’t happen again. I’ll go back in a little while to search again and, perhaps, ask her neighbors if they know where she might be.”

“That’s a good idea. Let me get my shower, then I’ll make something for breakfast.”

“Don’t go to any trouble for me. I’ll continue saying my prayers while I watch the birds. Oh, and Sophie already did her business when I opened the back door for her earlier.”

I murmured my thanks before returning to my room and closing the door. I felt a twinge of something not yet defined, so I didn’t quite know what to say to Alan who sat on the bed to tie his shoes.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

I frowned, then pointed to Sophie spread out on the bed. “We don’t have much of a watchdog,” I stated accusingly. She opened her eyes for a moment, then closed them.

“I heard you talking to Clare, so I guess she came back.”

“And Sophie didn’t bark. Not once.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Alan replied softly. “No, because Clare slept here and didn’t pose a threat to us.” He caught my eyes before saying, “I thought you liked her.”

“I did, but you don’t just leave a person’s house, then walk back in as if you lived there when you’re just a guest. What if she’s not who she says she is? How would we know?”

“I can run a background check if it would make you feel any better,” Alan suggested.

“Am I being silly?” I questioned. “Maybe I have jet lag. ”

“Probably, but you’re right. We were both too trusting, at least in this day and age. I’ll start breakfast while you get dressed, then we’ll take it from there.”

He brushed my lips with a kiss, which made me feel better, and headed to the kitchen with Sophie.

When I stepped into the shower, I urged the warm water to calm my overactive imagination. In no time at all, I relaxed with the memory of my son and his bride when they exchanged vows. It truly was a beautiful wedding ceremony.