Page 30 of Nowhere Good

In other words, never gonna happen.

“You need help runnin’ things?” Clem asked. “Me and Sully can sit in, help attract buyers with his cute, chubby face.”

Claire heard the question, but was too focused on the way each dried leaf floated on top of the melted wax. Long as she could focus on something else, she could keep the images at bay.

“Hon?” Clem pressed.

“Oh—yeah, I’d love if you and Sully would help.”

Clem went quiet. Claire kept working, but the peace didn’t last long. “You know, I saw that detective earlier…”

Claire glanced sideways. Clementine would get to the point eventually.

“At the Pilates studio. You know how Kelsey worked there… I guess he was askin’ questions about her or whatever.”

Claire loved her older sister, but God, she was clueless sometimes. She hoped she’d drop it, but she rambled on.

“It really does tick me off. I’d see Kelsey there sometimes, and I never even caught her givin’ me a guilty little glance, like she didn’t give a damn she was poachin’ my sister’s man. Honestly, I always thought she was a bit of a tramp—”

“Clementine!” Claire said through gritted teeth, but it was too late.

She saw everything.

Kelsey’s blood. Her throat. The cuts.

It’d be easier to get mad at Clementine, so Claire scowled at her sister, whose green eyes were rimmed with red, nearly matching her artificial orange locks. Great, she was baked out of her mind.

“Sorry.” Clem raised her hands. “You’re right, that was harsh.”

“I literally saw her dead body.” Claire focused on the satisfying feeling of the wick as it clipped between the scissors. “Besides, if Dillon wanted to screw around, then that was his choice. Kelsey didn’t deserve what happened to her, let me be clear about that.”

“Of course she didn’t, I’m sorry. It’s just the big sister in me, wishin’ I could’ve protected you. I’d be devastated if Marty had a wanderin’ eye.”

You actually love Marty, Claire wanted to say. “Yeah, well, Dillon and I aren’t all sunshine and rainbows like Daddy likes to say we are.”

“No kiddin’. Cheating, though? I don’t expect much from him, but that’s a low blow. What are you gonna do about it?”

“What do you mean?” Claire laughed once. “There’s nothing to do about it.”

“I mean are you two still together once he gets out?”

Really, Clem? Too often, Claire felt like she was the older one, not the younger one. It felt like Clementine was happy to go the rest of her life pretending the things that happened to them—not just to Claire, to both of them—when they were girls never happened.

“Daddy wants us together,” was all Claire said.

Clementine went quiet. She stuffed her joint out in the ashtray with a sizzle, then melted into the couch. “He’s handsome, y’know.”

Claire carefully dipped a wick into a candle. “Who?”

“The detective. You didn’t notice he was handsome?”

“No,” she lied. “All I noticed was that he was hellbent on arresting Dillon.”

“I was a bit surprised when I saw him. I mean, it’s hot as Hades out there and he was all decked out in black, only showing some forearm. Nice forearms, though…”

“Clementine.” Claire’s voice was firm. “Do you not think I maybe have bigger things to worry about than some cop’s forearms? Seriously.”

A guilty look slapped across Clem’s freckled face. They were fake freckles, dotted on with brown eyeliner. “Sorry, hon, I was tryin’ to distract you with some girl talk…”