Page 8 of Long Gone

And it had been ages since I’d had a friend to hang out with this way. I’d been close with my Little Rock roommate, Kara, but she’d distanced herself from me after the shooting. Looking back, we’d started to drift apart before that, when she’d started dating her current boyfriend.

Louise and I had gone to El Dorado a couple of weeks ago for lunch and some shopping, and I’d had more fun than I had in ages. Hanging out with her always made me feel lighter, like she helped burn off the dark clouds hanging over me.

“Of course,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.” Even though I’d still be working this case, I wasn’t expected to work on it 24/7.

“Great! Oops. Gotta go. I’ll see you tonight,” she said cheerfully as she abruptly ended the call.

It was such typical Louise behavior I couldn’t help smiling. She was like a hurricane that swept in, spreading sunshine instead of rain, then ran back out to sea. She was exactly what I needed, and I was lucky to have her.

Now if only I could figure out what to do about Nate.

Chapter 3

Clarice Burton lived outside of Wolford off a county road. The property was surrounded by farmland. Given the size of her yard, her home had to be on at least a few acres. The house was a large white colonial with huge pillars, with a sideloading three-car garage that made it look even larger. An old basketball hoop with a torn net was arranged at the back of the driveway, which was empty of any vehicles.

I parked on the driveway, then took a moment to survey the property. A large concrete, multilevel fountain sat in the middle of a landscaped center in front of the house. I wasn’t surprised it wasn’t running given that it was March and we still had freezes in southern Arkansas at this time of year. But the concrete was broken and chipped in multiple places, suggesting it wouldn’t have been running anyway.

I got out and walked up to the house, taking in the chipped paint by the windows and the worn-looking roof. I suspected the house was worth over one million, but if Hugo Burton had disappeared with all the money, there probably hadn’t been much left behind to cover routine maintenance.

The front door opened before I got a chance to ring the doorbell. The woman who answered was medium height, probably an inch or two shorter than my 5’7”, and looked trim in her expensive-looking athletic wear. Her hair was a salon-colored blond, and I guessed her to be in her early forties.

“You must be Harper!” she called out, walking out onto the front stoop. “Thank you again for coming so quickly.”

“Of course,” I said as I reached her. “I’m happy to help you find closure.”

She reached for my arm and started to guide me inside. “Come in. I’m eager to get started and I want to make sure we have plenty of time. The police talked to me for hours after Hugo disappeared, so I wasn’t sure how long you’d need.”

I let her tug me into the foyer, then gently pulled myself free. The foyer had a white marble floor with a double staircase leading to a landing on the second floor. A multilevel crystal chandelier hung over a round, marble-topped table in the center of the space. A large, fake flower arrangement sat in the middle of the table.

“Would you prefer coffee, tea, water, or something else?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she headed into a living room to our left. “I guess it’s too early to be hitting the hard stuff.”

I supposed it was, but considered asking for a glass of whiskey anyway. Based on the money sunk into the furnishings of the house, I suspected they had top shelf. Then again, given her current money situation, maybe not. There was also the fact that drinking on the job was unprofessional. “Water is fine.”

But I still salivated as I imagined the smooth whiskey sliding down my throat. James Malcolm and his attorney, Carter Hale, kept fine whiskey in their offices, and in the short time I’d spent working with them, I’d acquired a taste for it, making my usual go-to, Jack Daniel’s, suffer in comparison.

Clarice continued walking through the living room, moving past the twin leather sofas facing each other, perpendicular to the marble fireplace and a dark wood grand piano in a corner. “I thought we could sit in the sunroom,” she said as she neared the door, “even if it isn’t sunny. Sometimes the sun peeks out and I soak it up when I can. I need all I can get and sometimes my stupid lamp isn’t enough.”

“Do you suffer from seasonal depression?” I asked as we entered a room with windows on two sides. Rattan furniture with bright, floral, overstuffed cushions filled the small space. Plants were everywhere, some flowering. I could see why Clarice preferred to be in here. It had a bright cheery atmosphere even I could appreciate.

“Yes, terribly. I’d love to move to Florida, which is part of the reason I went in to talk to Mitch this morning.” Clarice moved to a tray arranged on a table between the sofa and a love seat. It already held two pitchers of water and crystal cut glasses filled with ice. She picked up one of the pitchers and poured water into both glasses as I sat on the sofa and looked out the windows into a small garden with dormant rose bushes. I could make out the edge of an in-ground pool behind the house.

I pulled out my phone and opened the recording app. “I hope you don’t mind if I record our conversation. I’d like to be engaged in conversation with you, then take notes from the recording later.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Are you wanting to sell the house?” I asked as she handed me a glass.

“Yes, but Hugo’s name is on the paperwork. If he’s not here to sign, I can’t sell.”

“Which is why you’re wanting him declared dead.”

She sat down in the chair opposite me, her back to the windows overlooking the backyard. “I could file some kind of paperwork that would give me power of attorney due to his abandonment, but I’d rather have him declared dead.”

“I take it you believe he’s dead,” I said, watching her closely to take in her reaction.

“Definitely,” she said with a fire in her eyes. I suspected she’d been told that she was crazy to believe he hadn’t abandoned her, and she was ready for a fight every time someone tried to convince her otherwise.

I instantly felt a kinship with her.

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