Page 35 of Last Seen Alive
“I turned eighteen a few months after Dad’s arrest, so I never landed in the system. But I wasn’t in any position to take care of Claire. I could barely look after myself. Claire bounced around to a few homes in the first year. Staying nowhere longer than a couple of months, except for the last family she was with. She was with them close to a year before she aged out of the system.”
“Their names?”
“Sylvia and Albert Hamilton.”
“Were all the foster homes in the Dumfries area?” Trent asked.
“Yeah. The idea, I believe, was that she wouldn’t be uprooted more than necessary and could continue going to the same school.”
“Did she have any close friends? Boyfriends?” He was thinking that maybe by a stretch one of them had kept in contact with Claire over the years. Though it was unlikely as she cut her own sister out of her life.
“Not sure. If she hooked up with any guys, she wasn’t a kiss-and-tell type of person. As for friends, she kept them to herself, but she had mentioned a Roo once or twice in passing. A nickname, I suspect. Don’t know the person’s real name. Wish I did, especially if it would help you find who did this to her. But, please, I’m telling you, Logan never would have killed her. Ever.” Her eyelashes were weighed with tears and as she blinked, they fell.
“We won’t keep you much longer,” Amanda started, “but do you know what Claire did for work? There’s nothing much on record.”
“Claire had a fine eye for art. She had a job at a gallery in Washington years ago, started not long after mom died. Stayed there until she got thatjobin Nebraska.”
They’d discovered the art gallery, but nothing else. A search under the name Deb Smith netted nothing helpful either. Amanda had told Trent that Claire’s job in Nebraska was fabricated, and it seemed Shell was aware of that fact too. She’d probably heard that from Logan.
“I don’t even know what to believe about her anymore.” She ran her hand over the bracelet again.
“You said she gave that to you,” Trent started, “along with all the charms?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they represent something to you?” He was thinking if Claire had chosen every charm for special meaning, he and Amanda might learn more about the person Claire used to be.
“Yeah. Me and Claire. The book, well that was her. Avid reader, as I said. The ruby is the gemstone for my birth month. The butterfly was to represent how she and I emerged from the cocoons of our miserable childhoods into independent women. The rabbit stands for luck and abundance. Claire also told me it would protect me when she was… gone.” Her voice turned rough and gravely. “I thought she meant while she was in Nebraska, but I guess it carries even more weight now. She knew she was cutting me off, and now she’s dead.”
“And the rest?” Trent hated to burden Shell with memories, but some may arise that could help the investigation.
“The feather was to strengthen my intuition, to recognize the signs on my path. You need to understand that Claire was very much attuned with the universe.” Shell’s face wrinkled up, and Trent knew why. She was more about what she could see and touch than imagine in some invisible realm. Shell went on. “The half heart, that’s self-explanatory. Claire was to keep the other half. Did she have it on her?”
“She did,” he said, thinking that might be some small comfort.
Shell set off into a small crying jag.
“Michelle,” Amanda started when she calmed, “as we’ve discussed, we have strong reasons to believe the murdered woman was Claire, but it would help strengthen the case if you would confirm her identity.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to. Just make sure you get her justice.”
“We’ll do all we can. The medical examiner’s name is Hans Rideout, and he’ll be the one contacting you about identification.”
Shell nodded and glanced at John, who put his arm around her.
Trent turned to Amanda. “We should go.” Back to Shell. “I’m so sorry.” He went over and hugged her. She sagged against him.
A few minutes later, Trent and Amanda were loading back into a hot car. He started the AC, but it just kicked out more warm air. It would take a minute for the cool stuff to push through.
“As far as I’m concerned, we can stop second-guessing whether that woman was Claire. It’s unlikely anything else would explain the matching charm in her wallet.” She snapped her seat belt into place.
He was staring out the windshield.
“Trent? You heard me?”
He nodded, though he could barely get his head to move.
“That’s a good thing. And if we can get a meeting with the foster parents, one of them might know who this Roo is.”
