Hannah appeared interested. “Max, huh? You two have any plans?”
I turned away to slip the final items into my suitcase. If I’d been truthful, I would have said that I felt drawn to Max. We had such history. I could still close my eyes and remember how his lips felt against mine that day at the river. But life hadn’t been kind to either one of us, and we both came with heavy baggage. I sensed Max held more secrets beyond what he had said about his daughter. Ones as painful as mine. “I don’t know, Hannah. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what’s ahead.”
I thought she might push, but instead she asked, “How’s Jayme?”
“Still in the hospital in St. George, but improving. They’ve set her arm, but they’re building her back up before they release her. She’s skin and bones. I asked Max to investigate the allegations Jayme made about the abuse before they send her home.”
“Good.” Then Hannah sighed, the kind of sigh that starts deep in the soul. “I wish you weren’t leaving, Clara. I will miss you. Whether you realize it or not, we need you here.”
“I’m not wanted here,” I reminded her. “You’ll have to come visit me in Dallas. I’ll take you to restaurants, plays, and show you what the rest of the world is like.”
A slight shake of her head, and I knew that would never happen. “This is my world. I belong in this house with these women and children. They need me.”
“Of course,” I said. “Then there will be phone calls.”
“And letters,” Hannah agreed. “I enjoy receiving letters.”
I gave her a last hard look and considered the beauty of a woman content in her world, someone who understood where she belonged. That would never be me. For the rest of my life, I would be an outsider.
Stef buzzed me in at Alber PD. Alma Heaton waited inside.
“I wanted you to have this.” She held a copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. “Hannah told me that you and Eliza both loved this writer. My daughter had this next to her bed the day she disappeared.”
I held the book in my hands and felt the weight of it. I ran my hand over the title, stamped in gold on the rough cloth cover. Inside, I found a bookplate. Under a spray of delicate blue flowers, Eliza had signed her name. Alma Heaton reached out and embraced me. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home so I can bury her,” she whispered. “Without you, we might never have found her.”
After Alma left, Mullins popped in the door and asked, “You still here?”
“I’m waiting for Max.”
“Well, me and Conroy are heading out to a call. Probably won’t see you again.” He extended his hand. I shook it. He looked a bit embarrassed. He nodded, turned and left.
I’d brought the secret files back, and I carried them in from the SUV and gave them to Stef when we were alone. “Someone should really go through all those files back there,” I said. “No telling what they’d find.”
“Yeah, but we both know that won’t happen,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. This wasn’t something she held any doubt about. “I haven’t been here long, but I figure this isn’t a town where folks put much stock in rocking the boat.”
I let out a short huff in agreement. “That’s true.”
At that, the door opened, and Max looked in. “Sorry I’m late.” He turned and kept the door open with his back while he pulled in a wheelchair holding a young girl with long strawberry-blond hair, the one whose picture I’d noticed on his desk my first day in Alber.
“Alice couldn’t stay with Brooke. She had something she had to do today, so I brought her along.” The girl’s legs twitched a bit with some kind of spasm. A beautiful child, she had inquisitive hazel eyes that locked onto me.
“So this is Brooke.” I reached down and took her right hand and shook it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Dad says you’re a Dallas police officer.” Grinning up at me, she added, “And Dad told me you came here and really shook things up.”
I laughed. “I guess I did. I know he hasn’t been home much lately. Thanks for lending your dad to me. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“That’s funny,” Brooke said. When she smiled, dimples creased her cheeks.
“What is?”
“Dad told me he couldn’t have done it without you.”
Max shrugged and flashed me a smile. “I think Clara needs to go now, Brooke. She has a plane to catch in Las Vegas.”
“I’m going to go there someday,” Brooke said. “And Dallas, too. When I walk again, I’m going to see the world.”
“I bet you will see the world. Maybe, one day, your dad will bring you to Dallas to visit me. I’d like that.” I picked up Eliza’s book and handed it to Brooke. Some things are meant to be shared. “In the meantime, it might be a little early, but keep this. When the time comes, you will find a world inside its covers.”
Brooke put the book on her lap and opened it. “These are really pretty flowers,” she said, running her hand over the bookplate. “What are they?”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
Max’s voice tinged with melancholy, he said, “Those were your mother’s favorites, Brooke. They’re forget-me-nots.”
We stood quiet, lost to our own thoughts. I watched the way Max looked at Brooke, the love in his eyes, and I wondered if I’d been unfair to him. In hindsight, Max had been right about much of it, especially that I was stepping over the line, but I hadn’t been in a place where I was willing to listen. I looked at my watch, and considered the departure time for my flight. That talk would have to wait. I had to drive to Vegas and check in the Pathfinder at the rental counter. “I need to
