That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance 1)

“Nothing.” Claire squeezed her cell phone out of the back pocket of the tight little skirt (a magician’s trick if ever Allie saw one) and made a short call. “Jordan’s picking me up,” she informed Allie. “We’re cool now, right?”

Allie thought about it a second. Claire was right. What could it hurt for her to visit her friend? And it wasn’t as if Allie hadn’t tried to get in touch with Mimi and Zeke. They’d placed her in charge of the kids and it was up to Allie to use her own common sense.

“Sure, it’s fine.” She set up her chair to watch the practice, which turned out to be a scrimmage. Cameron dribbled the ball, zigzagging around his opponents. Henry

, who was playing goalie, was no slouch either. He blocked the ball every time it came near him, except the one time Cameron managed to score a goal.

Allie couldn’t help but cheer, which garnered her a few friendly smiles from the other adults present. After about fifteen minutes, a red Mustang convertible driven by a girl who appeared to be Claire’s age, pulled into the parking lot. Claire practically flew into the front seat. Allie stood to go talk to the girls but before she could get to the car they were already halfway down the block.

Claire turned and waved goodbye. “See you in about an hour!” she cried cheerfully, all evidence of her prior sulking gone. Teenagers. Allie shook her head. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been one herself.

The rest of the practice went by quickly. Daylight Savings Time was still in effect but even that wasn’t enough to keep it from getting dark by eight-thirty. The coach blew a whistle, signaling the end of the scrimmage. He spoke to the boys, going over a few points, then dismissed them. The boys all grabbed a water bottle from a cooler and soon everyone had taken off, leaving Cameron, Henry, and Allie the only ones on the field.

“Where’s Claire?” Cameron asked.

Allie glanced at her watch. “She went to her friend Jordan’s house but she promised she’d be back by now.” She dialed Claire’s number but there was no answer. Allie texted her and waited for a return message. “Do you know Jordan’s number by any chance?” she asked her nephew.

“Jordan who? I don’t any of Claire’s friends with that name.”

Henry pulled out a smart phone from his backpack and he and Cameron entertained themselves by playing Tetris. Allie began to pace the parking lot.

Fifteen minutes went by and it was now completely dark. Why hadn’t she gotten Jordan’s last name? She felt like the ditzy spinster aunt who was easily bamboozled. She hated calling Mimi and Zeke but there was no choice. She dialed both their numbers, but once again, neither of them answered.

“I must be in a dead zone.” Allie shook her phone. What that would do, she didn’t know, but it felt like a good substitute for Claire right about now.

“My cell phone works fine,” Henry said. “I just called my friend Pete to check on our math homework.”

“I’m hungry,” Cameron said.

“Again? Didn’t you eat less than four hours ago?”

“That was first dinner. I eat light whenever I have soccer practice then I eat again when I get home.”

“Me, too,” Henry chimed in.

“Oh. Well, maybe there are some snacks in the van.”

There were no snacks, but the key was still in the ignition. All this time they’d been on the soccer field the minivan was sitting in the parking lot just waiting for someone to come along and steal it. Not that Whispering Bay was any sort of crime hub, but still. Claire had been in such a rush to leave that she’d foolishly left behind the keys. Why hadn’t Allie thought to ask her for them?

Allie was torn between being angry at herself, angry at Claire, and worried sick that something had happened to her. Maybe this Jordan had gotten in a car accident. Or maybe they hadn’t even gone to Jordan’s house at all.

A vision of Claire in her tight little skirt smoking pot, shooting up drugs, and having unprotected sex with the sleaziest boy in the high school (who even now was giving her an STD) flashed through Allie’s brain in a panoramic nightmare.

Oh God. She was too young to be a great aunt. Or dead. Because Zeke was surely going to kill her when he discovered that she’d lost his daughter.

It was a miracle Mimi’s hair wasn’t entirely gray.

There was no choice. She was going to have to find Claire. Now. She wasn’t supposed to drive, but this was an emergency.

She’d just cruise around the adjoining neighborhoods, very slowly, going at least five miles under the speed limit. There was no way she could get in trouble if she didn’t call any attention to herself.

“Boys, buckle up your seatbelts and be on the lookout for a red Mustang parked somewhere nearby.” Allie clutched the steering wheel and glanced at the dashboard clock. It was almost nine p.m. It had been over two hours since Claire had taken off. When she found her, Allie was going to wring her neck. Or throw her over her lap and spank her. Or grab her and hug the hell out of her. Probably all three.

Cameron and Henry each manned a window and Allie began to slowly drive up and down the streets. Within a few minutes, she was certain she spotted Jordan’s car but after pulling into the driveway of a modest red brick ranch, Allie could see that it wasn’t a Mustang after all, but some foreign model. The front door to the house opened and a man poked his head out, probably to see what the heck a strange car was doing in his driveway.

Allie waved to him. “Sorry! Wrong house!”

He waited until she backed the van out, then scowled and slammed his door shut. Boy, what a grouch.