Seen and Not Heard (Maggie Bennett 4)

There was such a slight hesitation Claire thought she might have imagined it. “Early. I’m sorry, I know you told me to wait, but I had a stomachache. So she sent me home in a taxi quite early. I don’t remember when.”

For a long moment Claire said nothing. Nicole had an unfortunate habit of making up tales, and this sounded like one of them, but there was no earthly reason for her to lie. “How are you now?”

“I threw up and I’m feeling much better,” her muffled little voice replied. “I just want to sleep now.”

Claire knew a dismissal when she heard it. She also thought she knew a lie when she heard one, but she had no proof. “All right. You sleep, and I’ll check on you during the night and make certain you’re okay.”

“That would be nice,” she said in a woebegone little voice. “I thought I heard voices. Is … is Marc back?”

“Not for a few more days. It’s just a friend of mine. He’ll be leaving soon.”

“If he spends the night I won’t tell anyone.”

Claire stared down at her, astounded. “Well, he’s not going to spend the night. I can’t imagine …”

“If he doesn’t, can I come in and sleep with you again?”

“Certainly. If you want I’ll send him home now.”

“No. He should stay. I just want to sleep. Good night, Claire.”

Claire shut the door behind her, her face creased in worry. Now was not the time to tell her about her grandmother—tomorrow would be soon enough. But she couldn’t rid herself of the notion that Nicole already knew.

CHAPTER 15

Nicole burrowed deeper into her bed, scarcely daring to breathe. Beneath the crisp white sheets she was still fully dressed, and her clothes were damp from her walk home through the pouring ra

in.

She’d run more than walked, looking over her shoulder, terrified Marc would reappear. But she’d made it back safely, back to the dark, empty apartment, moments before Claire returned.

She’d had enough time to think it through, to realize how hopeless the truth was. Claire wouldn’t believe her. Women always believed Marc—the same thing had happened with her mother. When she’d tried to tell Maman about Marc her mother would get very angry and accuse her of lying.

So why should Claire believe her? If she was able to convince everyone she had seen nothing, maybe she’d be safe. Marc hadn’t found her—he couldn’t be sure she’d been there. Maybe if she lied and said she came home early people would believe her, Marc would go away and leave her alone, and no one would hurt her.

She hunched down deeper in the bed, her teeth chattering. When she’d first heard the man’s voice she’d been terrified that Marc had come. But she knew even before she asked Claire that it was someone else, someone with a slow, deep, American voice.

As long as the person with that voice was here, she’d be safe. And if he left, she would go and sleep in Claire’s big bed. Either way, no one could harm her for now. She could close her eyes and sleep.

Tomorrow she would think about Grand-mère. Tomorrow she would mourn properly, would decide how much to tell Claire. For now all she wanted to do was sleep. And blot out the memory of Marc walking into the kitchen, a bloody knife in his hand.

Claire walked slowly back to the living room, trying to rationalize her fears. It was no wonder she was troubled, she told herself. She’d seen violent death, murder. It should come as no surprise that she was filled with a nameless, overwhelming dread.

At least Nicole was safe. That, for the moment, was the most important thing.

“She’s here?” Tom was standing by the door. Ready to leave, Claire realized with numb panic.

“She says she came back early. She doesn’t know what happened to her grandmother.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you believe her? Why would she lie?” He still hadn’t moved away from the door, and Claire resigned herself to the fact that he was leaving, knowing it was best for both of them.

“Nicole lies sometimes. She makes up fantastic stories with no connection to reality.”

“Surely this time she’d tell the truth? If she’d seen her grandmother murdered, seen the murderer, she’d say something.”