In Seconds

Vivian thought Claire should leave Pineview and pursue her dream of becoming a famous hairstylist in New York or L.A., even if that meant leaving her sister behind. She’d married at twenty-six, then lost her husband after only four years, before they chose to have kids. Although her stepfather and her sister were all that kept her in Pineview, Claire wouldn’t consider leaving. Vivian had never heard the details behind the sledding incident that’d broken Leanne’s back—Claire wasn’t willing to talk about it—but she suspected Claire felt guilty for being the one who made it to the bottom of that mountain safely. Otherwise, she would’ve left town long ago.

“She’s doing a piece for the new library in Kalispell,” Claire explained.

“They commissioned her?”

“Are you kidding? They have no money.”

“So she’s donating it?”

“Yeah.”

“How nice of her. That’s a lot of work.”

“She can be surprisingly generous.”

It was the surprisingly that made Vivian wonder if their relationship was as loving as it seemed.

The Chowhound came up on their right, just past Chrissy Gunther’s Nice Twice store and the bank. When Vivian flew past the restaurant, Claire rapped on the window with her knuckles. “Hey, didn’t you want to turn there?”

She did, but first she had to see who was in town. She eyed all the people she could see, searching for anyone who looked out of place, or who could be Ink or another thug. Only when she’d driven all the way past Gina’s Malt Shoppe did she whip around and return to the windowless Chowhound.

Claire took her by the arm as they met up at the door. “You’re acting so strange.”

“You’ll understand in a minute.” Squaring her shoulders, she motioned her friend in ahead of her.

At night the Chowhound became a strip club. On dollar dance nights it gave the Kicking Horse Saloon a run for its money. Some locals hung out here, but most of the nighttime traffic came from the men who poured through the area on their various hunting and fishing trips. During the day it served breakfast and lunch. It was always much less crowded then, even though it served some of the best burgers in town.

Today, because they were wrapping up after the lunch rush, only a handful of patrons sat inside. One was Tony Garvey. He had his work boots on and a pair of jeans that were as dirty as his T-shirt. Tony owned Garvey’s Sand and Gravel, but he wasn’t afraid to dig in and work alongside his employees.

He nodded as they passed and Claire stopped to say hello. She knew everyone in town. Tony had been one of her husband’s best friends.

“Tony and his wife are getting a divorce,” she whispered afterward as they found a booth.

“I’m sorry for their son.” Although Tony’s wife wasn’t part of Vivian’s book group, that was where she’d learned about Mrs. Garvey’s affair with her chiropractor. The gossip in Pineview was usually pretty reliable, but Vivian didn’t like that aspect of the community, so she tried to ignore the rumors. She certainly hadn’t wanted anyone talking about her. She’d had far too much to hide.

“I feel bad that they’ve had trouble. No matter what happened, I’ve always liked them both,” Claire said.

The smell of cigarette smoke permeated the carpet, the vinyl booth, the dark paneling. Smoking hadn’t been allowed inside, even in taverns, for some time, but George Johnson, the owner of the Chowhound, was a heavy smoker and probably smoked as much as he wanted before and after business hours.

“Afternoon, ladies. Can I get you a drink?”

George himself had come to wait on them.

“Just water for me,” Claire said.

Considering the state of her nerves, Vivian thought she might want something stronger, but it wasn’t a good idea to consume alcohol while toting a gun. Besides, alcohol upset her ulcer.

“So…what do you have to tell me?” Claire asked the minute he walked away.

Vivian had kept her in suspense long enough, but she didn’t know how to begin. Baring her soul would relieve her of the burden she’d been carrying, the need to pretend and lie and evade, but it would also be a terrible risk. What if Claire couldn’t forgive her? What if she stayed in Pineview but lost the relationships that were important to her? “It’s something you’re going to find…unpleasantly surprising.”

Claire’s curious smile faded when she realized Vivian wasn’t fooling around. “How upset will I be?”

“Pretty upset.”

“At you? Or someone else?”

“Me.”

“What’s the worst it could be?” she said with a doubtful laugh.

Vivian reached across the table to take her hand. “Claire, everything I’ve ever told you is a lie.”

Again, Claire seemed tempted to make light of it, until the intensity on Vivian’s face convinced her that this really wasn’t a joke. Then her eyebrows knitted together and the worry Vivian had glimpsed earlier reappeared. “Maybe you should be more specific.”

“I’m not who you think I am. I’m not Vivian Stewart.”

How often did someone hear that from her best friend?

She seemed to gulp before grabbing the table. “What are you talking about?”

Vivian didn’t want this to hurt their friendship, but she didn’t see how it wouldn’t. “That’s an assumed name, one I picked myself. I don’t have a mother who suffers from diabetes and my parents aren’t retired schoolteachers. I don’t have a sister, pregnant or otherwise. I have one brother who’s married and has one and a half children, and that’s it. They’re all I have in the world, besides my own kids. And I can’t even see them. We’ve been on the run and had to split up for safety.”

Letting go of the table, Claire sat back. “You don’t mean you’re wanted by the police.”

“No.” Vivian struggled to decide what to tell her next. Now that she’d started, she wanted to get it all out as fast as possible. “There are some…men. They—they tried to kill me once. In Colorado. They’re coming after me again. It’s really my brother they want, or at least that’s how it began. Now…they hate me as much as they do him.”

“They tried to kill you?”

“Yes. They murdered the U.S. marshal who was guarding me and then they came for me.”

“Wow.” Other than in the movies, Claire had probably never heard of anything like this. It wasn’t the kind of thing that happened in Pineview. Neither did murder, yet Pat was dead. Neither did kidnapping, yet Claire’s mother was missing. Was that what she was thinking? That maybe nothing was what it seemed?

Vivian did her best to explain about Ellen and her uncle and her murdered stepfather and what’d happened to Virgil and how he came to be associated with The Crew. The more she talked, the more unbelievable it sounded, even to her ears. Did Claire think she’d lost her mind?

She didn’t act as skeptical as Vivian had thought she would. When Vivian finished and looked up at her helplessly, waiting to see how her friend would take the news, Claire glanced around them, then leaned in close. “What do these men look like?”

That wasn’t the response Vivian had been expecting. “Ink has tattoos everywhere, but he broke out of prison with a guy I’ve never seen before. He’s likely got plenty of gang tattoos, too.” She thought of Pretty Boy and revised that statement. “Then again, Ink’s partner in crime could look as clean-cut as a Mormon missionary.”

Claire’s face drained of color, but the question that came out of her mouth wasn’t, “How could you do that to me?” or “Why couldn’t you trust me?” There was no recrimination, no accusation or anger that she’d been misled. Instead, her voice urgent, she asked, “What was your name before?”

“That depends,” Vivian replied. “I’ve had to assume two different identities over the past four years.”

“The name these people would have. What is it?”

“My real name. Laurel Hodges.”

Her jaw dropped and she brought a hand to her chest. “Oh, God. I saw them at Mailboxes Plus not more than an hour ago. Two guys. One sat outside in a white truck. I couldn’t see him too well. But the other guy approached me. He said he was looking for his sister, who was adopted out at birth. That she was supposed to live in this area. And he told me her name was Laurel Hodges.”

Vivian’s blood ran cold. She’d been afraid The Crew had come to Pineview.