Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
To Do:
- Write victim impact statement
- Thank you note for Jeremy
“I will never eat again.” Mindy put her fork down and pushed her syrup-covered plate away.
“Same. At least not for another two hours, anyway.” Kyle stretched an arm around Nicole and leaned back to look at everyone. “We have some news.”
Claire’s fork dropped to her plate, splattering hollandaise sauce onto the tablecloth. Surely it must be bad news. This week was full of it. Were they moving? Was someone sick?
“Maybe we could cheers?” Nicole suggested to Kyle.
“Perfect idea.” They lifted their glasses, and everyone else followed, clearly confused.
“To Baby Collins.” Kyle smiled broadly.
An explosion of noise came from the table. Everyone began talking at once.
Claire leaped out of her chair, knocking it over and sending it crashing to the floor. Heads turned in the restaurant, but she was already embracing Nicole. Tears streamed from her eyes as she pulled back, grabbed her best friend by the wrists, and looked her in the eyes.
“Nicole, you are a wonderful human being. You are so smart, so beautiful, and so kind. This baby is the luckiest baby on the planet, and I would die for either of you. I have two thousand questions for you, but I will wait.”
Nicole laughed and flicked a tear away.
“Scoot.” Mindy shoved Claire away to embrace Nicole.
After congratulating Kyle, Claire sat back down and watched her friends celebrate the newest, tiniest member of their group. Luke squeezed her hand under the table. Wow. Her best friend was pregnant. In less than a year, there would be a tiny, screaming human at their brunches. Nicole couldn’t do margarita nights anymore. The very foundation of their friendship had just shifted ever so slightly.
“When are you due?” Luke asked as everyone settled.
“Early January. It’s very early,” Nicole said, clearly noticing everyone mentally counting backward. “We thought about waiting until the first trimester passed, but we both suck at keeping secrets. And if something…unexpected happened, we knew we would need everyone’s support.”
Claire reached over and grabbed Nicole and Kyle’s hands. “I’m glad you told us. I know nothing is guaranteed, but you’re going to be the most amazing parents. I just know it.”
Hours later, Claire’s mind was still buzzing with the news about Baby Collins as she paused at a red light on Broad Street. She glanced in her rearview mirror. The white van that had followed her for ten blocks idled behind her. A knot grew in her stomach and goosebumps ran down her arms. Just because it was a creepy white kidnapping van didn’t mean it belonged to ESA, but the thought didn’t ease the tension in her shoulders.
It was a good thing she was headed to dinner with her biological father, Jack. He was an FBI agent and, until recently, had been estranged from Claire for twenty years. He had abruptly re-entered her life when he discovered she was marked with a symbol associated with ESA. It wasn’t the best way to re-meet an absent father, but they were making some headway.
The van drew her eyes again. What had he said about vehicle counter-surveillance at their dinner last week? Oh, right. Drive like an asshole. Claire sped forward at the green light and turned right without signaling.
Her phone rang, and she answered it without looking. “Hello?” In her rearview mirror, the van continued along its straight path. Worried for nothing.
“Claire. It’s me. Tell me you watched Stepwives of Seacaucus last night.” Ah. It was Charlie, Claire’s sister who lived in Los Angeles. She was a publicist to the stars, adept at spinning embarrassing stories and covering up dirt. They didn’t have a ton in common, but they did share the occasional obsession with trash TV.
“No, you know Luke’s party was last night.”
“That’s right. Shoot. Call me when you’ve watched it. How was the party?”
“It was great,” Claire said with a smile. “Luke freaked out over the Streamster deal. Brianna was such a huge help with that. I’m on my way to dinner with her and Jack, actually. Did you want me to pass on any messages?”
“Yeah, eat shit and die,” Charlie said flatly.
“Charlie,” Claire warned. After Jack had taken a bullet for Claire the previous summer, their mother, Alice, had finally forgiven him for abandoning their family. Charlie, on the other hand, would rather get a root canal than reconcile with her father.
“Sorry,” her sister said. “It’s not Brianna’s fault. She didn’t ask to be born. Jack can still eat shit and die, though.”
“I’ll pass that along.” Claire shook her head. “I’ll call you after I watch the episode, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Charlie was the bossiest, most fearsome woman she knew. It would take a miracle to get her to have a civilized conversation with Brianna, let alone Jack. She had only survived Thanksgiving at Claire’s by hiding in the basement with their stepdad, Roy, and drinking wine.
With the impending trip to the West Coast, surely Claire could sneak in some quality sister time and start changing her heart. Something had stirred after Jack and his second family abruptly re-entered her life. She couldn’t shake the image of a perfect Christmas, blended family, chaos, and all.
After driving through another two miles of quaint, suburban houses and well-manicured parks, the yards grew, and the houses became less frequent. She pulled to a stop in front of an unassuming Cape Cod-style home with a burgeoning garden.
Claire tapped a code on the keypad that controlled the gate. The gate slid open silently and allowed her Audi SUV to crawl up the driveway.
Oh, hell. A full-body shudder nearly jerked the car into the grass. Tanya, Claire’s stepmother, stood completely nude in the backyard. She waved at Claire and bent over to sprinkle water onto some green buds that were just beginning to emerge from the soil. Jack had casually mentioned this springtime habit, but seeing it with her own eyes was another thing entirely.
“Hi, Tanya.” Claire climbed out of her car with her eyes almost completely shut. She bumped into her fender and felt her way to the far side of the car.
“Claire, darling, you’re early! Brianna hasn’t arrived yet.” Tanya’s voice was like honey.
“That’s okay, I’ll just step inside and see if Jack needs any help with dinner.” Claire stumbled over the curb as she headed for the front door.
Rosie ran ahead of Claire into the house and immediately found Jack, who stood in the kitchen with a towel slung over one shoulder and a wooden spoon suspended over a bubbling pot of red sauce. She jumped and put her paws on his knees in her customary greeting, and he patted her obligingly on the head.
“Thank you for coming.” An almost-smile crept across his usually stoic face as he immediately washed his hands.
“It’s the second Sunday.” She slid her purse onto a dining room chair and reached down to scratch Rosie behind the ears. An awkward silence followed. They had been doing once-a-month dinners for at least six months now, and she still didn’t know how to talk to her father. Jack wasn’t much of a talker, but since he wasn’t trimming rose bushes in the nude, he was the lesser of two evils.
He set his towel down and walked over to an overhead cabinet, then ducked to look underneath it and fit a key into a virtually invisible hole. A hidden panel swung down, revealing several firearms, ammunition, and electronic devices.
Claire sighed and handed over her bag. Jack picked up a device that looked like a stud finder and waved it over her purse.
“Shoes,” he said, and she grumbled as she kicked off her flip-flops and handed them to him. He set them on the kitchen floor and carefully ran the device over them.
“All set?” It was the same song and dance at every family dinner. Despite the months of radio silence from ESA, he insisted on scanning her accessories for tracking devices and bugs.
“Almost.” Jack waved a piece of bread at Rosie until she approached. He scanned her collar, fed her the treat, and replaced the device in the secret panel. When he turned back to the stove, he winced and rotated the shoulder that had been shot the previous fall.
“No bugs this week?” Claire asked.
“No. Can’t be too careful.” He calmly stirred the sauce.
She turned away, too, and studied a ceramic of a nude woman. Gold streaks mimicked stretch marks around the rotund belly. Tanya had many hobbies—gardening, ceramics, joining various pyramid schemes. She had never once made Claire feel unwelcome or uncomfortable, and yet their house didn’t feel like coming home.
She was an intruder in decades of family history she had never known. Pictures of Brianna gleamed in frames on the wall—dressed as a witch for Halloween, standing on stage as a lanky teenager, arm-in-arm with a Brad Pitt-lookalike at her junior prom. A picture of Claire had appeared on the wall since her last visit, but the frames didn’t match. Brianna’s had a weathered, well-loved quality, and Claire’s had clearly been chucked into a Costco cart right next to a five-pound bag of lentils. Maybe she didn’t belong here, but they were trying. It was something.
“Nude gardening is starting early this year,” she commented, helping herself to a glass of water. Jack and Tanya didn’t allow wine at Sunday dinner. Strike number two.
“Once the temperature hits sixty, she has to be out there.” He had used his FBI influence to make a number of indecent exposure charges disappear before convincing Tanya she could only garden in the nude in the backyard, where an eight-foot privacy fence obscured her from the neighbors’ view. “She says it allows Mother Nature to speak to her in her purest form.”
Claire shuddered and slid the curtains closed.
“How was your week?” Jack continued. Ah, time for small talk.
“Fine. Busy.” The news about Kyle and Nicole’s pregnancy was on the tip of her tongue, but she kept it inside. She usually only shared work-related news with Jack.
“And yours?” She clapped at Rosie, who jumped and stopped licking the trash can.
“Quite eventful. I think we’re getting really close to an answer.”
Claire looked intently at her father. His hair had a touch more gray than it did when he first broke into her apartment and introduced himself the previous fall. There was more sadness in his eyes.
“You figured out who William Hickory is?”
“We have a lead. Our best people are working on it.”
That was a common refrain. She pulled her phone out of her purse and stared at the handwritten riddle Barney had presented to her father the week before. Apparently he had grown tired of waiting for her to visit him again, because he had abruptly changed tactics to handing riddles over to the feds.
“It’s been almost a week. I can’t believe they don’t have anything yet. ‘Where William Hickory paid the ultimate price.’” She had Googled the phrase a thousand times over the last week, but so far the internet had failed her.
“He assured me it’s another body location.” Jack dipped a spoon into the sauce and grimaced before twisting a salt mill over the bubbling pot.
She pursed her lips. What kind of monster murdered innocent women and then made the feds solve riddles in order to lay them to rest?
Her stomach hitched. She had nearly forgotten about the impending sentencing hearing. If she couldn’t show the judge what he had cost her, he could end up with the minimum sentence. He would be knitting underwear blankets and dumping bodies again before the feds ever had time to build a case.
Rosie whined and licked her ankle.
“They’re doing what they can,” Jack added. He turned to look at her, and there was a flicker of worry in his brown eyes.
“Are you sure he’s even telling the truth?” Claire asked. “That he’s not just wasting your time? He’s not exactly known for having a stellar reputation. I’ve Googled this phrase a hundred times and can’t find mention of anyone with that name.”
“He didn’t lie about Kayley’s remains. We’re not sure if this will really lead to Jennifer, but if there’s even a chance that this will lead to closure for another family, we have to figure it out.”
He opened the small pantry door next to the refrigerator and pressed another hidden button. An LED screen flickered to life on the back of the door. Jack tapped the screen repeatedly, and eventually a map with a blinking red dot appeared.
“Oh, good, your sister’s almost here,” he said before snapping the door shut.
“Brianna really doesn’t care that you track her like this?” Claire raised her eyebrows.
“I only do it with her consent. She wears the tracker on a bracelet, and she could take it off at any time. She’s a public figure. She knows how important personal safety is, unlike some of my other children.” He pointed a sauce-covered spoon at her.
“Oh, there are more of us? Good to know, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to wait for my genealogy report to come back to learn about your second secret family.”
“Will you set the table?” The ghost of a smile was back.
“Sure.” She opened a cabinet and drew out a stack of cobalt-colored plates.
Rosie barked and charged the front door.
The door popped open and a moment later, in a cloud of Marc Jacobs perfume, Brianna appeared.
“Claire!”
She gave her half sister a tight hug despite the fact that they had seen each other less than twenty-four hours ago.
“Daddy,” Brianna added, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a hug from behind. “Where’s Mom?” She stooped to pick up Rosie and held her on her hip like a baby, rubbing her behind the ears.
“Naked gardening,” Claire and Jack said together.
Brianna grimaced, revealing a set of sparkling white, perfectly straight teeth. “That time of year already, huh?” She set the dog down and took the plates from Claire. They barely made a sound as she arranged them on the table. This irritating gracefulness must have come from Tanya, as Claire couldn’t even walk through the kitchen without rattling the china cabinet.
“Guess what?” Claire said conspiratorially as they crowded around the small, square table, folding paper napkins and laying cutlery.
“Luke proposed?” Brianna gasped and grabbed her left hand.
Claire laughed. “No, but he did get nominated for an Emmy.”
Her sister let out a shriek. Jack dropped his wooden spoon and, with blinding speed, unstrapped the 9mm handgun he always wore on his ankle.
“Relax, Dad.” Brianna grabbed Claire’s hands and jumped. “This is huge! I’ll send a congratulations gift basket. Is he a scotch or whiskey guy? Whiskey, right? Never mind, we can talk about it later. Tell me everything!”
Being around Brianna was like standing next to a ray of pure, comforting sunlight. Everything about her exuded life. Her skin glowed, her blue eyes sparkled, and she was tan despite it being mid-April. Her flip-flops, discarded by the door, were from Target. She flung her no-name purse on the back of a chair. Her chestnut-colored hair was drawn back into a simple ponytail, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. And still she was radiant. That bitch.
Dinner passed without incident, except for Rosie leaping onto an unoccupied chair and running off with a piece of garlic bread.
After finishing his spaghetti, Jack laid his fork down and cleared his throat.
“Claire, there is some family business we need to discuss.”
Crash . All four of them jumped when Claire’s fork fell out of her hand. She surveyed the scene and found red droplets littering the front of her sweater. Great, she had ruined her cashmere sweater.
“Daddy,” Brianna warned.
Tanya, who had deigned to put on one of her iconic flowered muumuus for dinner, reached over and clutched her daughter’s hand.
“Oh god, what is it? Are you sick?” Claire’s hands clenched into tight fists. The blood chilled in her veins.
Jack shook his head. “No one is sick. Brianna, would you like to start?”
Brianna glared at her father and turned to Claire. “You know that new movie I wrapped up in the fall?”
“ Private Sarah ? With the badass lady soldier who joined the Union Army and dragged a ton of men off the field and saved their lives?”
“Yes. The premiere is scheduled for next month, and it’s getting some attention that we didn’t expect,” Brianna said.
“What do you mean?”
“Attention from ESA,” Jack interjected.
Claire froze. The napkin slid from her lap and puddled on the floor. Rosie scampered over and lay on top of it.
“You’re being targeted?” The words felt like ice chips.
“Targeted might be too strong a word.” Brianna smiled and flicked her ponytail over one shoulder, but the candles on the table quivered from her foot tapping on the floor.
“Threatening notes were sent to her fan mail PO Box,” Jack said quietly.
“Bri.” Tears welled in Claire’s eyes. Was the room tilting? Her clammy hands fisted as she braced for impact.
“I’m not worried about it.” Brianna reached over and grasped Claire’s limp arm. “People send me threatening fan mail all the time. Just last week someone told me I was going to hell because of that scene in Dumb Summer where I ate a steak with my hands on a boat.”
“I was hoping you could talk some sense into your sister,” Jack interrupted, looking at Claire. “She refuses to get a bodyguard.”
Brianna’s cheeks flamed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“What did the note say?” Claire interrupted. “Are you sure it was from ESA?”
“Women don’t belong on a battlefield. Kill the movie before you end up like your sister,” Jack quoted apparently from memory.
A shiver racked Claire’s body.
“I’m not killing the movie,” Brianna said, stacking her plate on top of her father’s and taking them to the sink. “It’s a powerful story that deserves to be told. I’m not going to let some dummies intimidate me.”
“It was a Los Angeles postmark, so it’s not any branch of ESA we’ve dealt with so far,” Jack said quietly.
“Can the FBI do anything?” Claire asked. The initial shock had worn off.
“My task force is investigating, but I’m not convinced we’ll find anything.” He rubbed the spot where an ESA brother had shot him the previous summer. “There are four million people in that city. It would take a miracle to track down the sender.”
Claire pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. “Great. I’m glad our tax dollars are being wisely spent.” Whatever energy she had before she came had been zapped by this conversation.
“There’s one other thing too.” He glanced uneasily at Tanya.
Awesome. What were the odds that the “one more thing” was he was planning to buy a family beach house? Though if Jack was buying, it was more likely to be a tactical nuclear bunker.
“I—” he stopped.
Claire and Bri exchanged a worried look before. Jack had never been lost for words before. What was he about to divulge? The suspense was killing her.
Tanya cleared her throat. “Your father thinks it’s his fault.”
“What’s his fault?” Brianna narrowed her eyes.
“He thinks ESA is targeting our family because he’s in charge of the task force.” Tanya’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Claire’s heart leapt into her throat. She had always assumed ESA was pissed at her because she had put one of their members in prison. And then of course they had used her for their heinous training program for new recruits. But did it go even deeper than that? Were they punishing Jack for trying to take them down?
It was almost a relief to have someone else to blame.
“My partner’s daughters also received some threats. They’re not the type usually targeted by the group, so we know it’s personal. I’m sorry.” He had found his voice at last.
“It’s not your fault,” Brianna piped up. “Scumbags will always be scumbags.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Claire bit her lip. What was she supposed to do with this new information? If ESA was targeting Brianna, it was only a matter of time before they crept back into her life. She had been responsible for shutting down an entire branch of their organization, after all. She was a dead woman walking. It wasn’t over. It was never going to be over.
“We want you to have these,” Tanya said. She reached under the table and drew out two midnight blue velvet bags. Thunk . The mystery contents must have been heavy.
“Crystals—uh, helpful as they may be—” Jack said with a glance at Tanya, “are no replacement for a bodyguard.”
Brianna sighed.
“Did you tell Charlie your concerns?” Claire blurted out.
He shook his head. “She won’t take my calls.”
“I guess I’ll pass along the message.” Claire stood up from the table. Charlie was likely to be unfazed, but Alice was going to flip shit. It was time to leave before he could divulge anything else that would permanently threaten her blended family fantasy.
After half a dozen prayers of protection from Tanya, Brianna and Claire were released. They staggered down the driveway, weighed down by a pound of vegan spaghetti apiece and their bags of mystery crystals.
“Hey,” Claire began, searching the fence line for an enemy that probably wasn’t there. But now that Brianna was being targeted, she couldn’t be too careful. “I know Jack is being a little intense about the whole bodyguard thing. But you really should consider it. I think you know how big of a deal this is. ESA isn’t some crazy fourteen-year-old who’s in love with you. They’re organized, they’re connected. If they want you, they will try to take you. I had a police officer tailing me most of the time, and a single sociopath all by himself was able to kidnap me. You need to keep yourself safe. If not for you, then for us.”
Brianna sighed and leaned against her car, head tilted toward the sky as though she were looking to the stars for answers. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it in the darkness, sparks from the lighter illuminating her face. Suddenly her younger sister seemed years older. The sunshine was gone, replaced by a world-weary woman just trying to get through the day.
“I thought you quit.” Claire helped Rosie into the back seat. She would never expose her tiny lungs to secondhand smoke.
“I did. Then I got the letter.”
Claire approached and laid a hand on her shoulder. The smoke tickled her throat. “I know that hiring someone means admitting that all of this is real. That you’re in real danger. I know how tempting it is to keep pretending like everything’s normal. Hire a bodyguard. Please. Don’t make it easy for them.”
Brianna sighed, exhaling a long, thin stream of smoke. Not even Mark Jacobs could cover up the casino bathroom smell. “I will. As soon as I get back.”
“Good. I’ll be in LA in a couple of weeks for Brad’s proposal. I’ll visit. I love you.” Claire leaned in and squeezed her sister, praying that it wouldn’t be the last time.
She shuffled those thoughts to the back of her mind as she got in her car and began to pull a three-point turn. As she passed her sister, she rolled the window down.
“And throw those away,” she said sternly, gesturing to the pack of cigarettes. “It’s gross, and you’re better than that.”
“Yes, Mom.” Brianna smiled for the first time since dinner.