Page 21 of Sunset Cove
Chapter Ten
How was it possible to spend months – years, even – living the same life, day after day with work, traffic, the grocery store, an occasional visit to the dentist, and in one day everything changes?
When Claire used to read memoirs about other people’s exciting lives, or when she stared longingly at the exotic locations on her desk calendar, she thought that one day, if her life ever evolved away from her gray cubicle, she’d be ready for it. She’d enjoy it and embrace it, as she had the rest of her life.
Yet here she was, with more excitement in the last week than she’d had in perhaps the last ten years, and she had no idea how to handle it.
She’d regained a bit of calm during her dinner with Chip, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t cut out for an exciting life. The events of the day had left her walking around in a daze. What was she thinking, agreeing to go to dinner and leaving Marty alone in the cabin?
Or at least she hoped he was still in the cabin. Claire stood in the doorway, waving at Chip as he drove away. There was a chance she would open the door and Marty would be gone. Then she’d have to wonder if she’d imagined it all, like a fit of madness.
Once she was satisfied Chip had left, she carefully opened the door and called out, “Hello?”
“Hey,” a voice called back.
Phew. She hadn’t imagined it after all.
Marty popped his head out of the bedroom, a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see if there were any more photo albums.”
“Of course,” Claire said, closing the door behind her. “You can help yourself. Or could you not find them?”
He shook his head. “I found them. I just put them back.”
“Oh, good.” She stood there, smiling at him, again struck by how much he reminded her of Becca. “I’m sorry about leaving like that. I think I panicked. I didn’t want him to know that you were here, because of the...” Her voice trailed off.
“Because of what?”
She might as well say it. “Because of the FBI.” She thrust a plastic bag into his hands. “Are you hungry? I saved most of my meal for you. It’s probably not warm anymore, but it’s quite good.”
He set the bag on the coffee table. “The FBI talked to you?”
Claire nodded. “Yes.”
His eyes darted around the room. “Do they know I’m here?”
Claire shook her head. “No, of course not. Unless they’re spying on me.”
He picked up his coat. “They might be. Have you texted anyone about me? Or made any calls?”
“No.”
He zipped his jacket and picked up his backpack. “That’s good. You should deny ever having met me.”
He opened the front door and paused, looking back at her. “It was nice meeting you, Claire.”
“Wait!” she said. “Don’t go yet. I think it’s safe. They came looking for you at the hotel, not here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? What did they say?”
“They didn’t tell me much. They thought I was lying to them about never having a son.”
He nodded, taking another step out the door.
“What is it that they want to talk to you about?” she asked. “Maybe we can clear things up with them?”
He smiled. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Hang on.” Claire picked up the to-go box. “You should at least eat something. If you don’t want this, I can get you something else. I don’t have much food here, but –”
