Her Sister (Search For Love series) (14 page)

"But
I'm pregnant.  In a few months I'll show."

"Believe
it or not, there are customers for pregnant women.  You could be in very high
demand.  That's something you might want to consider with all the rest. 
Albuquerque isn't our only location for this.  I have another setup in Wyoming
and one in Arizona, and I want you to think about what you'll be getting out of
this, Shara.  You'll have a great apartment with friends.  These girls have
boyfriends, too.  They have a real life.  If you want to make jewelry, you can
do that.  If you want to keep your baby, we can figure something out."

Shara
remembered all the Sundays she went to church with her mother and grandmother,
the colleges she had started to look into, the future she thought she'd plan. 
But she was pregnant, and her mom would hate her because of it.  Even if she
had an abortion, if she let Justin pay for an abortion, if she just gave this a
few months, she could stake herself, get a real job, maybe eventually call
home.

An abortion. 
Could she ever do that?

"Have
any of the other girls had abortions?"

"That's
confidential information," he said solemnly.  "But I will tell you
this.  If you talk to Courtney, she could counsel you about it.  With just four
clients a day, you could earn enough to be more than comfortable, even get your
own place eventually.  What do you think?"

"I
like Courtney," she said.

"She
is
a peach.  Did she tell you her mom and dad have a farm in Georgia,
and she sends money home every month?"

"She
told me she was from Georgia, that's all."

"You
only spent a couple of hours with her, but Courtney's pretty open about her
life.  She'll talk to you if you're open with her.  Same with me, Shara.  Don't
be afraid to talk to me."

She
wasn't
afraid to talk to him, but she was afraid of other things.  Was she able to do
what he wanted?  Was she able to come on to a man without ever seeing his
face?  But maybe that was the beauty of it.  Maybe she could just pretend.

"What
do you think, Shara?  Do you think you'd like to be part of my business?"

Just
what choice did she have?  None.

"I'd
like to give it a try."

****

Amanda
had been talking to Clare for the past half hour, trying to ease her fears on
so many levels.  Max was listening in on the conversation but not saying
anything.  He looked as worried as she felt.  They were all trying to be
strong.  They were all scared to death.

"Clare,
I know you're worried about Shara," Amanda said, for at least the third
time, "But if you see this girl and talk to her, you should get a sense as
well as we could of whether or not she's Lynnie.  You took care of Lynnie.  You
talked to her in her own secret language.  You told her your secrets.  You have
to have confidence that you'll recognize that bond."

"What
if I don't?  What if I say or do the wrong things and she leaves?"

"She's
having the DNA sample taken.  In a short while we'll have the results.  So even
if she leaves, we'll know for sure, and we have her address.  This isn't a
one-time only chance, honey.  If your interview doesn't go well with her, we'll
have another go-around.  So please don't put more pressure on yourself than you
have to."

Amanda
heard a grunt from Max and finally he spoke.  "Clare, we should be there
with you.  We know that.  But we also know that Shara is our main concern right
now.  We've given up so many years in search of Lynnie and who knows if we'll
ever find her.  But with Shara, we have a good chance of bringing her home.  So
just keep that in your head when you're talking to this Amy.  See if you can
get some history out of her.  She's probably not going to want to go into any
of it if it's bad."  He paused.  "So just keep in mind that Gillian
has a high success rate."

"Dad,
I thought you didn't believe in her."

"The
truth is, I don't know what I believe any more.  But I sure as hell would like
to believe in something.  If nothing else, I can believe in the skills of Gillian's
partner, a private investigator.  Tomorrow, you act like an information magnet
and collect all you can without sounding like an inquisitor.  Listen as much as
you can if she'll talk.  Do you have one of those little tape recorders with
the voice control?"

"I
can get one."

"Just
turn it on and tape some of the conversation.  That way we can listen to it
afterward.  You'll be fine.  I know you will.  Did you say Joe's there with
you?"

"Yes,"
she said hesitantly, probably expecting some kind of censure from that.

Max
didn't scold or judge.  He simply said, "Put your heads together.  At
least then you'll feel you're prepared."

"Thanks,
Dad.  That helps."

Amanda
saw the grim line of Max's mouth and didn't know what that meant.  She took the
phone back again and after a few more minutes of conversation, she ended the
call.  She tried staying calm during it.  She really tried to stay calm through
this whole trip.  But so much was happening and there was so much they didn't
know.  And tomorrow...tomorrow could be the start of a new life for all of them...or
tomorrow could be an ending.

All of
a sudden she felt as if the weight she was carrying was way too heavy.  All of
a sudden, she felt more alone than she ever had in her life.  She was sitting
on the bed.  She shifted toward the wall so Max couldn't see her face, but for
once he didn't avoid what he didn't want to see.  For once he seemed to realize
exactly how she felt.

He sat
down beside her on the bed.  "Clare will do a good job," he reassured
her.

Tears
pooled in her eyes and she fought to keep them back.  She bowed her head and
let her hair flow forward so he wouldn't see.

When
Max placed his hand on her shoulder, she thought she'd come apart.  The tears
just kept coming and she couldn't hide them any more.  How many nights had she
cried when he'd left to search?  How many nights had she cried while he made
call after call to police department after police department.  How many nights
had she cried and lain alone while he'd gone for long drives, taken long walks,
been any place but with her.

The
ironic thing was, that touch of his hand on her shoulder brought back all other
kinds of memories too, from the first touch of his hand on hers at the barn, to
their first kiss, to the first time they'd made love.  And there'd been no
question that it was love.  But that was before.  This was after.  She couldn't
let herself feel any of that, not and stay sane for the rest of this.  She slid
away and his hand fell, but then she cried even harder, and she couldn't keep
the sound of her sobs from becoming great hiccups.  Max moved even closer and
now his arm came around her shoulders.

"Mandy."

When was
the last time he'd called her that?  When was the last time she'd heard that
tenderness?  Over twenty-seven years ago?

"I'm
sorry.  I'm worried about Clare.  I'm worried about Shara.  I just can't get a
grip right now."

There
was only a slight hesitation until he brought her into his chest and held her
close.  He stroked her hair, said nothing, was just Max.  She remembered his
male scent she'd always loved, mixed with spicy aftershave.  She could feel the
heat that always seemed to emanate from Max, even in the cold.  When the girls
were young and they'd go outside to play in the snow, she and Max would
sometimes join them.  After coming back in, she'd feel like an icicle, but he'd
always been warm underneath his flannel and jeans.  Her cold feet on his shins
always made him laugh.  Now his heat seemed to becoming her heat.

The
room which had been comfortably air conditioned seemed to be getting warmer,
and Amanda realized comfort came in many packages.  His comfort was a gift that
was fast becoming something else...something she didn't want to feel but that
she couldn't turn away from, either.  Max's heat as well as his caring was like
a powerful web.  The temptation to actually be this close to him outweighed her
good resolve that she should pull away.  She wasn't going to look up at him. 
She simply wasn't.  She was afraid to discover whatever she might find in his
eyes.

In the
past, there had been so much there—resentment, coldness, a determination that
cut him loose.  But Max wasn't going to let her hide from him this time.  Yes,
she had faded into the past and lived for the antique shop, falling on the good
times, trying to forget the heartache.  But now he was bringing her into the
present with him by lifting her chin, shifting toward her, making sure their
eyes met.  When he dipped his lips toward hers, she froze.  She didn't know
what to do.  They were divorced.  They lived separate lives.  At one time, they'd
probably even hated each other.

At one
time, they'd loved each other.

Max's
gaze was questioning and maybe even doubtful.  In spite of that, he kissed her.

The
kiss was familiar yet new.  It took her back and it took her forward.  It laid
out everything he wanted, but questioned everything they'd been.  What was she
supposed to—

As he
angled their heads so he could take the kiss deeper, as he laid her back on the
bed and joined her there, she looked up at him and shook her head.  "What
are we doing?"

"Damn
if I know.  But I'd just like something to feel good and right for a change. 
This does."

Were
they good together?  Were they right for each other?  Could they make a new
start after everything that had happened?

"What
do you want, Max?" she asked softly.

"I
want
you
.  We need each other right now, Amanda.  Let's take what we
need and forget the rest." 

That
wasn't Max's philosophy.  He was never impulsive, never reckless.  Plan A
always led to Plan B, except when he was drinking.  But he hadn't been drinking
today, or tonight, and he looked as serious as she'd ever seen him.

"What
if we regret this?"

"I'd
prefer
this
regret to a ton of others, wouldn't you?"

She did
want his arms around her.  She did want his body joined with hers.  She wanted
to feel that rush of passion again.  She wanted to feel again.  His hand went
to the buttons on her blouse.  Her hand went to the belt of his jeans.  Would
they regret tonight?

Maybe
so, but she'd have even more regrets if she didn't take this opportunity to
know Max again...to feel Max again...to love Max again.

****

Chapter
Nine

Clare
stood at the hotel room door, not sure what she was supposed to be feeling...or
thinking.  The sister she hadn't seen for twenty-seven years could be behind
that door...or not.  Detective Grove had asked her if she wanted him to go with
her.  She'd said, "No."  In a way she was even glad her parents
weren't here.  They would have muddied up the waters even more.

The
thing was—in a way, her mom and dad were leaving this up to her.  And what if
she screwed it up?  What if Amy was her sister and she didn't like Clare? 
Enough
,
she scolded herself. 
Just do it
.

Clare
heard the slide of the deadbolt chain.  A precaution anyone would take?  Or was
it super important to someone like Amy?

The
girl—woman rather—who opened that motel room door could have been anyone Clare
passed on the street.

Amy
Fields had brown with blond highlights.  Lynnie's had been golden brown.  She
had big brown eyes and Lynnie's had been brown, too.  But past that...

What
had Clare hoped for—instant recognition?

She
forced herself to smile.  She forced herself to extend her hand and say,
"I'm Clare Thaddeus."

Amy was
dressed up in Clare's estimation in a pretty lilac two-piece pantsuit.  Still
so worried about Shara, not knowing what was going to happen next, Clare hadn't
thought much about her appearance as she'd grabbed a pair of good jeans and a
blue-and-red plaid blouse.  She'd tucked it in and worn a belt, but dressing up
hadn't gone farther than that.  She didn't think she'd slept at all last
night.  Joe had stayed late, just sitting beside her on the sofa, reaching over
to hold her hand now and then.  It had been nice.  So nice her feelings when he
was around worried her, too.  She had no business leaning into him...no
business depending on him...no business thinking the thoughts she had whenever
he was close.  Not with her life in the wringer.

Amy
seemed to force a shaky smile, too, as if she didn't know what to say or do. 
That was something they had in common.  Amy motioned to the table in front of
the window with chairs on either side of it.  "I brewed a pot of coffee. 
Want some?"

Like
she needed more caffeine.  But with a cup of coffee in her hands, she would
have something to do...something to taste...something to focus on.  How honest
could she be with this woman she didn't know...with this woman who might be her
sister?  If only the psychic who was helping her parents now could have helped
them before.  If only
any
psychic had been able to help them.  Clare
didn't know what she thought about that.  She just knew she had to find Shara
and bring her home.  She just knew she couldn't lose another person she loved.