There was a long uncomfortable silence. Daniel wondered what was really going on with Stella. By Clara’s account the woman was a good mother. She’d shown signs of being concerned for her daughter’s well-being. So what about her was eating at him?
“I’ll take you upstairs,” Clara turned to him, breaking the tense silence.
Stella stood there mute as he walked past, looking like she’d taken a sucker punch.
What did she think they were there for?
The whole scene had the feel of walking into a setup. He didn’t like it.
Granted, the woman had been through a lot. Her only child was missing. Losing a child was a hell he didn’t wish on anyone. Pain clawed to the surface every time he thought about Naomi and Ruthie. For the first time in two years, he contemplated the idea that there could be something worse than death.
Not knowing what had happened, having his wife and daughter disappear without a trace and no word—especially with the way he and Naomi had left things between them—would rip out his soul.
Daniel followed Clara up the staircase from the kitchen. It wasn’t as dramatic a stairwell as the one in the entryway. This was a more direct route to reach the second story with one step at the top that lead to a small landing.
Upstairs was large and had a room for just about everything. He passed by a movie room, a private gym and a game room on the way to Ashlyn’s.
The door was closed. He watched Clara’s reaction. Her back muscles pulled taut the minute she stood in front of it. She placed her right hand on the painted wood like she was feeling for a heartbeat. Her left hand twisted the knob.
The scent of weeks-old dog urine hit the minute Daniel stepped inside. No doubt more of Berkley’s handiwork. The room looked out of place in the orderly house. Chaos would be the best word to describe Ashlyn’s space. Clothes were scattered around the floor. White, plush carpet was visible in a trail around her bed that led to an adjoining bathroom. Every other inch of the large room was covered with clothes, books or shoes.
Daniel had no personal experience with teenagers but figured this room was typical.
“A federal-something-or-other agent took Ashlyn’s laptop,” Clara said, her voice laced with so much pain as she stood there, looking bewildered, lost and alone.
That he understood.
“Did they share information with you?” He figured that he already knew the answer to that question because if they had then the job she’d be hiring him for would look a lot different.
“Not really. Not much.” Clara’s gaze locked onto something in the adjacent walk-in closet. “They don’t do a lot for international runaways. That’s what they classified the case as. I distinctly remember hearing those words.”
Daniel moved next to her. The electric impulses firing between them couldn’t be more out of line. He chalked the heat up to being near a beautiful, intelligent woman. And that was as far as he would let himself go.
His gaze landed hard on the objects she’d fixated on. Moving boxes. There were two medium boxes stacked on top of each other marked “Clothes” and a third still-open box stacked on top. It was half filled.
“Timothy thought it would be easier if we started to move on with our lives,” Stella’s voice, thick with emotion, echoed from the doorway.
The question begged whether Stella’s husband had first-hand knowledge that Ashlyn wasn’t coming back.
Something had been bugging Daniel since walking in the front door and it dawned on him what it was. There was no sign of a search for the missing girl. He expected Missing fliers to litter the kitchen table or…something to indicate a full-scale search was on. If this had been his child there’d be no end to which he wouldn’t go in order to bring her back. His small home would look like a command post for WWIII. He and his wife sure as hell wouldn’t have been boxing up their daughter’s clothes.
“This can’t be,” Clara said almost under her breath.
“We were going to tell you. I swear.” Stella wrung her hands together. “Ashlyn wanted to go live with her father full-time and Timothy thought—”
“What?” Clara wheeled around on her sister. “That her leaving home would be best? For whom? Him? He sure as hell wasn’t thinking of Ashlyn. She’s a teenage girl. She needs a mother.”
Stella intensified her gaze on a spot on the carpet, wringing her hands together.
“I didn’t think you’d understand and that’s why we’d decided to tell you after her trip,” Stella said.
Clara stalked over to her sister. “I’ve never doubted anything you or Timothy has said to me up to this point. But I’m telling you right now that if he had anything to do with her disappearance there’s no end that I won’t go to ensure justice is served on him and on you for being an accomplice.”
Stella reacted as though her sister had thrown a physical punch. “It’s not a good idea for you to be here, Clara. You know the rules. Now get out of my house.”
“Tell me what you know,” Clara demanded.
This wasn’t going anywhere positive.
Daniel moved next to Clara and ushered her out of the bedroom with his hand to her lower back. “We won’t find what we’re looking for here.”
Clara didn’t argue but her body resisted moving forward. He guided her down the hall until they reached the game room where she fell in step.
“We can’t go. I need to ask my sister a few questions.”
“She won’t talk,” he stated. “And even if she did, she doesn’t know anything.”
“How do you know my sister is unaware?” Clara blinked up at the masculine figure that was ushering her down the stairs.
“Call it professional intuition.”
Clara’s hesitated once outside the front door. “Maybe we should go back.”
“She’s already mentally checked out,” he said. “She’s not going to give you what
