Bone Harvest - Mary Logue [40]
However, before she went home, she was going to make one more phone call. She took out her cell phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.
A sleepy man answered. The tone of his voice reminded her of the man she had loved for most of her adult life. Steven’s dad sounded so much like her late husband that she couldn’t say anything. He said hello again.
“Sorry, Thomas. It’s Claire.”
“Claire, what’s the matter?” His voice rose at the question.
“Not anything to do with us. Meg and I are fine. But we’re having some problems down here, and I know you and Beth said you’d like to have Meg for a week or so this summer.”
“Yes,” he said, and waited.
“Could you come and get her bright and early tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. Is nine okay?”
She hated to do this to him, but she knew she would need to get to work before then. “How about eight?”
“Eight will be fine. We’ll see you then. Go to sleep, Claire.” He hung up.
He was a good man. Asked no questions. Did what he could. His son had been like him. Talking to Thomas made her miss Steven more than usual.
Rich hated this. He knew he would always hate Claire’s work demands: the waiting, the worrying, the putting the kid to bed alone, the attempt to sleep, the attempt not to sleep. It stank.
Here it was nearly three o’clock in the morning, the fifth of July, and Claire still wasn’t home. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, in her house, holding his head in his hands and feeling mad.
What would she have done if he hadn’t been there to take care of Meg? He knew he didn’t dare ask because she would only get mad and tell him she could manage without him. One of the things he liked most about Claire was how independent she was. It also drove him crazy.
He wondered if she could manage without him. He wondered if she had any suspicion that she couldn’t.
But he couldn’t do anything about that. Claire had to resolve those things herself. What he needed to work on was his own attitude. If he were going to marry this deputy sheriff, then he needed to learn how to be a supportive, understanding, calm partner—not always typical male characteristics, and certainly ones he needed to improve on.
He had been angry when he climbed the stairs to go to bed. He had left all the dirty dishes piled next to the sink. Washing dishes was good for the soul, his grandmother used to tell him.
Rich stood up from the bed and pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt. He felt a bulge in his pocket, and when he patted it, he remembered he had slipped the box with the ring in there just in case. With Claire deep into a new case, he wasn’t sure when he’d ever have the chance to propose. What did all this say about their relationship?
He walked down the stairs quietly, so as not to wake Meg, and started running hot water into the sink.
And that was how Claire found him—elbow-deep in warm, soapy water, digging the last few utensils out of the bottom of the sink.
She walked in, gently closing the door behind her. She leaned against the door, then saw him. “Oh, you’re up.”
“Couldn’t sleep. I tried. Thought of going down to the park, but knew that wasn’t a good idea.”
“Oh, Rich, you wouldn’t have wanted to be there.” She walked in to the kitchen and stared at all the dishes stacked in the drainer. “Thanks for cleaning up.”
“What happened?”
Claire looked exhausted. When she got tired, her hair seemed to get messier, out of control. Wisps of black hair had come loose from her ponytail and floated around her face. She had a smear of dirt on her cheek that looked like a blurred beauty mark. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really know. We talked to everybody. Nobody saw anything that we know of yet. Maybe when we go over all the notes tomorrow, something will jump out at us.”
Rich knew that Claire had thought she would have the next day off and had no day care set up for her daughter. “You want me to watch Meg for you tomorrow? I’ve got some errands, but she can come along with