CH 5: FINDING CLAIRE

Annie's POV

The coffee was too strong but I drank it anyway. I needed something to do with my hands. Two days. Two days of driving around, making calls, checking places Claire might have gone, and we had nothing. Not a trace. Tobin was sitting on the sofa in the living room, he was not moving, just staring at the wall. He’d been like that for an hour.

I couldn’t take the quiet anymore. “Do you have another plan?” I asked. “Or are we just giving up?”

He didn’t look at me. He just shook his head slowly, like it was a great effort.

I put my mug down too hard, the coffee sloshing over the side. “So that’s it? We just stop looking?”

That’s when he spoke, his voice was pretty low and without any feeling in it. “I know who can make someone disappear if they want to.”

That got my attention. I walked around the counter to see his face. “Who?”

“The Rossi family.”

The name landed in the quiet room like a rock. The Rossis. Everyone knew that name. They were the reason people locked their doors. The only person who wasn’t afraid of them was dead. I knew he was talking about Ray.

“So what’s the way out?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

“I’ll find one,” he said. And then he added, “But for now, you’re going to be Claire. You fooled me. You can fool them.”

For a second, I thought it was a bad joke. But his face was completely serious. “No,” I said immediately. “That’s too risky. You can’t ask me to do that. That’s a death sentence.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t get angry. He just turned his head and looked at me. His eyes were dark, and they never seemed to blink. I hated when he looked at me like that. It made me feel like an insect under glass.

It reminded me of the first night I had to be Claire, when I walked into this house and he told me to go upstairs and put on the new dress he’d bought for her.

I stood there with my heart beating out of proportion, because I didn’t know which room was hers or which dress he meant. I thought about all the meals since, how he always ordered for me, how he knew exactly what she liked to eat and wear, and I never could figure out if he actually cared for her or if he just knew everything about everyone.

Now, I thought maybe this was his way of punishing me. For lying to him. For whatever happened to Claire and his uncle.

“If this is because I lied,” I said, the words coming out in a rush, “if you think I hurt Claire or had something to do with your uncle, I’m sorry. I am. But sending me to the Rossis on some idea that she might be there or she has been helped? That’s just sending me to get killed. You know that.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stood up. He was so much bigger than me and for once I realized this. “I’ve made my decision. It’s not changing. You’re going. You’ll find out what you can find out.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to beg, but I looked at his face and I knew it was useless. His mind was a locked box. Nothing I said would ever change it. He was sending me in, and he didn’t care what happened.

He jerked his hand and a set of car keys flew through the air. I fumbled and caught them against my chest.

“Take this,” he said. “Use it. The chef made that pasta you like. Since you aren’t your sister. I sent the address to your phone.”

Then he walked out of the room. Just like that.

I stood there, holding the cold keys. It felt like something you see in an old film, where the prisoner gets his favorite meal before the electric chair. I looked at the table. There was a plate of pasta there. I hadn’t even noticed it. I sat down and ate it. It was good. I just chewed and swallowed. Then I took the keys and went out to the garage.

I got in the car and started the engine. The address was on my phone. I didn’t look at it until I was on the road. The directions took me across town, to a neighborhood with big houses set far back from the street.

Alas, after eight hours, I got there.

The Rossi place was behind a high iron gate. A couple of men stood outside, not doing anything, just standing there. They looked like they enjoyed breaking things. One of them came over as I pulled up. He shone a flashlight in my face, making me blink.

“Name?” he said. His voice was boring.

I opened my mouth. I was going to say “Claire.” The word was right there. 

But before I could get it out, a side door to the house slammed open. A young man came hurrying down the path toward us. He was good-looking, with dark hair and sharp features, but right now he just looked panicked.

He waved a hand at the guard. “It’s fine, Tony. I got this.”

The guard shrugged and stepped back. The young man grabbed my arm, his grip firm, and pulled me away from the car, toward the shadow of a big hedge.

“What are you doing?” he hissed at me. His eyes were wide, flicking toward the house and back to me. “I told you never to show yourself here ever again! You’re running away from him and your sister, so tell me what the fuck you are still here for? You should be on your way to Spain!”

He was talking to me like he knew me. Like I was Claire. And he wasn’t angry; he was terrified. For me.

I didn’t say a word. I just looked back at him, trying to put a whole conversation into my eyes. I let my lip tremble just a little. I saw the anger on his face start to crack and turn into something else, into worry.

He glanced back toward the guard, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper I could barely hear. “Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what would happen if my father knew you were here? After everything I did to get you out?”

I stayed quiet. I just shook my head in a tiny scared movement.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and scared. “You can’t stay here. Not for a second. You have to go back. Now.”

“Back where?” I whispered. The question was real. I needed him to say it.

He looked at me like I was crazy. “To the lake house. Where I took you. It’s still safe, nobody knows about it. Just get in your car and go. Don’t stop anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone.” He handed me the keys. “Stay there. I'll come over when I get the chance.”

The lake house. He said it like it was a real place. A specific place. That was it. That was where Claire was.

I nodded, making my eyes wide with a fear that wasn’t entirely an act. “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, I’ll go. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Just go,” he said, and he gave me a little push back toward the car. “And don’t come back here. Ever. Next time I won’t be able to help you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I got in the car, my hands shaking so bad I had to try twice to get the key in the ignition. I started the engine and drove away from the gate. I didn’t look in the mirror. I just drove.

When I was a few blocks away, I pulled over onto a side street and put the car in park. I sat there for a minute, just breathing. My heart was still pounding. I had done it. I had a name and the key. The lake house.

I stopped the car and took my phone out. I had to call Tobin. I had to tell him. I found his number and pressed call. It rang once, twice.

He picked up. He didn’t say hello.

“I found out where she is,” I said. My voice was steadier than I thought it would be.

There was a pause on the other end. Then he said, “Where?”

“The lake house or maybe Spain.” I said. “One of the Rossis, a young guy, helped her. He thought I was her. He told me to go back to the lake house.”

Another pause. I could almost hear him thinking. “Come back here,” he said finally. “Now.”

Then he hung up.

Finally… A lead.

I kickstarted the car again and headed towards the lake house, hoping I'd see Claire.