to look for the telltale glimmer of ice near her feet. This was the street where they’d abandoned the Caravan. She scanned the road, sure that at any moment she’d catch sight of the van’s wood paneling.
But the Caravan didn’t appear.
Maybe, Claire reflected, she’d gone crazy. Or maybe the more likely explanation was that someone had reported the abandoned van, and it had been towed away.
Serves Eileen right, she thought viciously. I hope they impound it.
She walked on for minutes, listening to the distant crash of waves and watching her breath plume in powdery bursts. Lights glowed from inside the houses she passed—cheery windowpanes dressed with garlands, mailboxes sashed with red bows. No cars had passed Claire on the street. Who would be out tonight, on Christmas Eve, in the aftermath of a violent storm? Especially when they had warm, welcoming bungalows to retreat to.
You’ll be home tonight too, Claire told herself. A phone was all she needed. A phone, and she’d be out of this living nightmare.
A new sound reached her, coming up from behind. A running engine. Claire turned in time to see a massive SUV headed her way. A bar of sirens stretched across its roof, and in the fading light Claire could just make out the words painted on its side: ROCKPORT POLICE.
“Hey!”
Claire froze, hands clenching at her sides.
Peering out the open driver’s side window was a face Claire recognized: Kerry, from Ramsey’s Diner. The Rockport sheriff.
“U-uh,” said Claire, as the SUV braked to a stop across from her.
Take me, Claire thought, resigned. Lock me up for trespassing, As long as it’s not with my sisters, I don’t care.
“Podcast girl!” Kerry called.
She was smiling pleasantly, which Claire assumed was a trick.
“Uh, that’s me. I mean, my name’s Claire.”
Any other day Claire would have been on her game. She’d play the role of adult perfectly, saying the right things to cast off suspicion. But today she was utterly spent.
Kerry asked, “What’re you doing out here? Research?”
“N-no. I was walking to the diner, for some food.”
“Where’s your sister and friend?”
“Oh, um. Back at the … hotel. My sister wanted cheese curds, and when the storm broke, I volunteered as tribute. But, you know, we thought the roads could be bad, so I walked.”
Kerry frowned. “The hotel? You mean Barbara’s B and B?”
“That’s the one.”
Claire was tired of playing games. If Kerry was setting a trap, Claire would go right ahead and step in it.
Kerry merely nodded again. “It’s been nasty weather. You know, some folks come to the coast for this? Storm watching. They love to see a good wave crash on the shore. I don’t get it. Locals clearly don’t care for it either; haven’t seen anyone out on these roads. Been a good couple days for desk work, though. You wouldn’t believe how it piles up around the holidays.”
“I can imagine,” said Claire.
Inside she screamed, What is this? Small talk? What do you want?
“You been able to get any research done?” Kerry inquired. “Any interviews?”
“A few.”
Kerry looked thoughtful as ever. “You kids care way more about a class project these days than I ever did. Missing Christmas at home for a podcast.”
Claire laughed—a nervous, gulpy sound. “Yeah, overachievers, what can I say?”
She knows, Claire thought. She’s the sheriff, she has to know about the van, if they towed it away.
“You’re heading to Ramsey’s?” said Kerry. “Hate to be the one to tell you, but they’re closed. Fact is, no one’s going to be open tonight.”
Claire’s heart caught on her ribs, slicing in half. “O-oh.”
“I tell you what, though,” Kerry went on. “I can drive you back to Barbara’s. Doesn’t she have a dinner menu tonight?”
“Uh.” Claire blinked. “She … does, and it looks great. Murphy just really loves cheese curds.”
“Then you’re a good sister.”
Claire’s eviscerated heart gave a pitiful lurch. If only you knew, Kerry.
“I feel guilty, you know,” Claire said. “She thought it’d be an adventure, coming with us, but now that it’s Christmas Eve, she’s starting to feel homesick.”
Claire paused, reflecting. Was that a lie or something near the truth? Murphy hadn’t signed up for the yelling, or for Claire’s college confession. She hadn’t asked for Eileen’s deception any more than Claire had. She probably was feeling homesick, and what had Claire done? Yelled at her to shut up, and then left her behind.
She and Murphy had never been close—that was a fact of life, and Claire had blamed that on Murphy being too young and annoying. For the first time, Claire considered the