Page 106 of Nowhere Good

Ron still didn’t even look at Seth when he said it. And Seth still didn’t buy it.

“Why?” Ron asked. “Somethin’ wrong, Chief? Claire said she gave all her statements to the police, didn’t think she’d be needed for at least a few days. They won’t be gone too long.”

Seth bit back a reply. He’d never been one to disrespect his superiors, but it was hard not to demand answers from Ron himself. But he had to let Chief Wells lead.

“We have some concerns about Claire’s safety,” Wells said. “We have reason to believe she may be being held somewhere against her will, and the last place her cell phone pinged before going offline was here.”

“Sure, they must’ve turned their cells off here,” Ron said, hands on his hips, feigning cluelessness. “As for being held against her will—I can assure you that is not the case. Clem’s home from the hospital, she can tell ya. Here, come on in.”

Chief Wells took the invitation to step inside the house. Seth lingered back, staring at Ron. Finally, Ron’s eyes fell on him.

“Don’t just stand there lookin’ pretty, Detective. Come on in.”

While Ron always had an abrasive edge to him, wrapped up in fake warmth, Seth felt it was especially forced now. Either way, he stepped inside, and his feet creaked against the old hardwood. The smell of wood and candlewax swallowed him. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.

She’s here. I know she is.

Chief Wells beckoned him to follow Ron down the hallway, past the living room, to another part of the maze-like house. So many family photos on the walls. Eventually, they came to a room covered in yellow paisley wallpaper.

“We usually keep this as a guest room, but it’s a good spot for Clem to have some at-home care,” Ron said, pushing the door open.

Clementine smiled when she saw them, splayed out on an antique bed surrounded by pillows. There was an IV monitor hooked up to her. “Detective Winslow,” she said. “It’s so nice to finally see you again.”

Seth hadn’t seen her since the incident. As tense as this all was, he was grateful for the light in her.

He turned to Wells, who nodded, giving him permission to go talk to Clementine. He approached her bedside, where Clementine held a hand out. Seth hesitantly slipped his palm onto hers. She was cold and papery soft as she squeezed him.

“Thank you so much for what you did for me,” she said. This close, the resemblance between her and Claire shocked him. Clementine had more hollow cheekbones, but they had that same roundness, that same kindness, those same green eyes. “You saved my life. You really are an angel, you know that?”

“I was just doing my job,” he said, trying to mask his discomfort. “I’m sorry you were hurt at all. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey, I didn’t die.” She let go, folding her hands over her lap. “What brings you here, Detective? I already told Chief Wells I can’t remember much. I tried to fight him off in the kitchen, but he stabbed me with somethin’ in my arm, then things got all… liquidy.”

Liquidy was one way to describe a heroin high.

“They’re worried about Claire,” Ron said, his voice booming. “Go on and tell ’em, Clem.”

For a millisecond, something passed over Clementine’s face. Guilt. Seth was sure of it, but she played it off by turning away, leaning into her weakened state.

“Oh, she went and got engaged. Romantic getaway with Dillon. They stopped by here today, spent some time around the farm, helped me get comfy, told me the good news. They took off a little bit ago.”

“You saw them yourself?” Seth asked.

“Yep. Happy little lovebirds, off to celebrate with a road trip. Goin’ wherever the road takes them, they said. Be back in a few days.”

Seth did not believe her. He also remembered what Claire said. That Clementine used to get put in the cage too—until she stopped getting in trouble.

Could Ron really have that much power over her?

Had he waterboarded her before too, or just Claire?

“Why, is Claire okay?” Clementine blinked innocently at Ron and Chief Wells.

“She’s fine, honey,” Wells said. “You get some rest.”

Wells signaled for Seth to follow her out. That same look crossed Clementine again.

Guilt.