Pretty Girls Dancing(57)



“It does.” The words were out of Claire’s mouth before she gave them a thought. Those first days had been spent in a fog of disbelief and grief. She and David had clung to each other at first, terrified and inconsolable. And even having Janie at home, her condition worsening, hadn’t been enough to distract them from the widening void left by Kelsey’s absence.

She felt a flicker of anger at Shannon’s husband, whom she didn’t know at all. What kind of man was he? David had been at her side constantly, at least at first. The sequence was fuzzy with the distance of time, but it had been after the agents had stopped returning calls that her husband had started drawing away, too. At least, that was the way it had seemed then. But if ever there was a time a couple should be supporting each other, it was now.

“You both need each other.” Claire had to force the words out. She felt like a fraud, mouthing empty platitudes. She had no advice for this woman. Although Claire had been whole when Kelsey had been taken, she wasn’t any longer. She couldn’t advise Shannon on how to bear the unbearable. She’d never learned that lesson herself.

“It’s so hard to be in the house alone when he and Ryan are gone. What am I supposed to be doing?” She raised a beseeching gaze to Claire, as if begging for answers. “How do I spend my days without going crazy wondering . . . the most horrible things go through my head, and I just sit in her room and cry, thinking about what could be happening to Whit. What might have already happened. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

The words lassoed Claire’s heart. Squeezed it tightly. They perfectly described how she still spent too much of her time. “You shouldn’t be alone. Do you have parents nearby? How do you get along with your mother-in-law? Or perhaps a friend could stay with you while he’s at work.” She couldn’t even imagine how she would have coped if left on her own. David had been there. Barbara had been a mainstay, and there had been a steady stream of friends and neighbors. Time had reduced that stream to a trickle until it had finally stopped completely.

“Helen is wonderful,” Shannon said quickly. “But it’s almost harder to have her there, praying and quoting Bible verses that are supposed to make me feel better. They don’t. They make me want to scream. What good does it do to pray to a God that allowed this to happen? Where was he when a stranger snatched Whitney away from us? After Helen leaves I feel wound so tightly that I’m going to snap at the least provocation. I find myself making excuses to keep her away. And most of our friends are Brian’s acquaintances from work, or the gym.” She ducked her head, as if ashamed. “I didn’t really notice until now that I have no close friends of my own. With working and the kids, it just seemed like there was never enough time . . .”

Barbara had observed once that Brian DeVries was a hard man. Claire wondered now if he was also a controlling one. It was impossible not to feel compassion for the miserable younger woman sitting beside her. “That’s natural in this day and age, isn’t it? I haven’t worked since the kids were born, so I had more time to cultivate those relationships. But with a job, husband, and kids . . . I’m sure it’s a full-day’s work just to cope with grocery shopping, household chores, dinner, and homework.”

The other woman’s blonde head bobbed in agreement. She lifted the mug to sip from it. “People stop over. But I realize they don’t know what to say.” Her smile was miserable. “I wouldn’t know what to say to us. What am I supposed to be doing? Surely there’s some way I could be helping them find Whitney. But how?”

The questions raked at Claire’s nerves. Awakened memories from those early days that she’d regulated to the back of her mind. “The agents will ask you to make a list of everyone you know and their connection to your family.”

“They’ve done that. I’ve thought of a couple of additions twice and updated it, but there has to be more. I feel like they aren’t giving us all the information about what they’ve discovered. Because if they have, it doesn’t seem like a heck of a lot.”

Was it better to sugarcoat things or to be honest? Claire decided on a mixture of the two. “They don’t. And that is terribly hard. There’s so much that goes on in the investigation that doesn’t lead anywhere. They told us only what could be proven to directly relate to Kelsey’s disappearance. It’s a long, frustrating process. That’s why I suggest having someone with you until they bring Whitney home again.” She’d added that last as a kindness. Shannon seized on it with a desperation that was heartbreakingly familiar.

“Do you think they will?” Her pretty face was alight with a hope that had something inside Claire withering. “It’s been thirteen days. You always hear the first couple of days are the most important in these types of things, but they don’t seem to have made that much progress.”

Thirteen days? Claire swallowed the hot tide of bitterness that rose. What was thirteen days compared to seven years and counting? Engulfed in grief or not, the woman was incredibly tone deaf. Claire’s earlier sympathy faded as she began to think of a way to gracefully usher Shannon out of her house.

And then felt like a complete curmudgeon when the woman’s soft brown eyes filled with tears. “Oh, my God, listen to me. You’ve experienced everything I’m going through and for so much longer. Claire, I’m sorry. That’s why I’m here. Tell me what to do. How do I get through this? It’s like I’m disappearing myself, a little more each day. Like the outline of me is there, but everything of substance drained away when we woke up to find Whitney gone. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

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