Page 11 of K-9 in Pursuit

“Sharee! I’m home!”

No answer, but if her sister was in her room listening to music or streaming a show, she could be oblivious. Chloe headed down the hall and knocked on the closed bedroom door. “Hey, Sharee,” she called. “Have you eaten dinner?”

Only silence. Chloe tried the door and it opened easily.

The darkened room smelled of an overly sweet perfume and fabric softener. Rumpled blankets spilled across the unmade bed, pillows in a pile against the headboard. A quick check showed the bathroom across the hall was empty, too, a single damp towel puddled on the floor.

Chloe pulled out her phone and sent a text to Sharee’s number. I’m home. Where RU?

She studied the screen, waiting for the checkmark that would show the message had been read, but there was no response.

Annoyed, she returned to the living room, to search for a note or some indication of where Sharee might have gone.

Nothing. A little concerning. Even though Sharee rarely provided details about what she was up to, she had taken to leaving brief notes alerting Chloe to the fact that she had been in the apartment and left again. But she was usually home when Chloe came in right after the salon closed. If she left to go to the movies or hang out with kids she had met on the slopes, it was later, after Chloe came home.

Her ringtone sounded and she eagerly looked at the screen. Not Sharee, but Sharee’s mom, Darinda. Chloe answered the call. “Hello, Darinda. How are you doing?”

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I had better call and make sure there’s nothing wrong.” Darinda’s voice teased, but with an underlying sharpness that maybe only Chloe could hear.

“Nothing is wrong, Darinda,” she said. “I’ve just been busy.”

“How is Sharee doing? I don’t hear from her, either.”

“She’s fine. She’s skiing a lot.” No need to mention the underwear gifting or harassment of Brian Weeks. The news would only upset Darinda and Dad, and Chloe intended to put a stop to it. “I was thinking,” she said instead. “Sharee doesn’t seem all that motivated to get her GED on her own. Maybe I should think about enrolling her in the local high school. She’s already made friends with some of the local teens. I think it would be good for her.”

“I don’t know. Does this school have any male teachers?”

“Probably.”

“Then I hate to take a chance.”

Chloe bit back her frustration. “You can’t keep her away from men for the rest of her life,” she said.

“Of course not, but when she’s a little older she’ll know how to handle herself better.”

Would she? “What about counseling?” Chloe asked. “I think it would really help her and your insurance…”

“There’s nothing wrong with Sharee.” Darinda’s voice was pinched. “She’s simply a little immature.”

“A counselor could help her make better decisions.”

“No. I’m not going to discuss this any further. Let me talk to Sharee.”

“She isn’t here right now.”

“Where is she?”

“I’m not sure. She’s not answering my texts. But I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

“We sent her to live with you so you could keep an eye on her. Now you tell me you don’t have any idea where she is?”

“I can’t keep her locked in the apartment. I have a business to run.” And she hadn’t exactly been asked if she would take charge of her little sister. Darinda had called one day last month to say that Sharee was on an airplane headed to Denver and she planned to stay “a while.” Only when Chloe protested did her father come on the line to tell her the whole sad tale.

“You have her call me as soon as she gets in,” Darinda said. “No, wait. Have her call your father. I have rehearsal. I have the lead in our production of Noises Off.”

Darinda ended the call, leaving Chloe staring at her phone. She tried texting Sharee again, then called. The call went straight to voicemail.

A chill traveled through her as she stared at the phone screen. As secretive and stubborn as Sharee could sometimes be, it wasn’t like her to ignore Chloe altogether. Who could she be with? Chloe berated herself for not getting to know the friends Sharee hung out with. But she was Sharee’s sister, not her mother. She wasn’t used to keeping track of anyone but herself.