After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

“I hope so.”

“Has there been any word on Allie?” she asked, and mentally crossed her fingers.

“No.” Jenna couldn’t hide the sadness in her voice.

“What about the police? Do they have any leads?”

“None that they’re sharing.”

“Can’t Shane get info?” she asked as other travelers rolled bags past her on the way to their gates. “I mean, he was the sheriff.”

“Not on the force any longer. Just Joe Citizen.”

“But, doesn’t he know someone who will talk to him?”

There was a slight hesitation and then, “You know Shane, everything by the book.”

In her mind’s eye, Cassie saw the man who was her stepfather. Tall and kind of rugged-looking with a thick dark mustache and eyes that didn’t miss anything. “This might be a time when he ignores the rules.”

“There’s just nothing to tell.”

“That sucks,” she said, moving into the pedestrian traffic.

A voice behind her asked, “Excuse me, is this the A Concourse?”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder to spy a woman who appeared to be in her late seventies or early eighties. A tiny, birdlike thing dressed in layers that included a down vest, she was peering at Cassie intently through magnified glasses that made her eyes appear owlish. She was holding a boarding pass in one hand and the handle of a tapestry-print roller bag with the other.

“This is C.”

“Not A?” Gray eyebrows knitted as the older woman struggled to keep up with her.

Cassie pointed down the wide corridor. “A’s over there. Past security, and the restaurant.” Into the phone, she said, “Just a second, Mom.”

“You’re sure?” the woman asked, biting the edge of her lip. “I’m going to Seattle to see my great-grandson. Just born two weeks ago. I don’t want to miss my flight.” Her expression changed. “You look familiar, oh, I know, like that actress . . . oh, what’s her name?”

“Jenna Hughes,” Cassie said automatically. She’d heard the same remark time and time again. No one remembered her endeavors, but her mother was a different story.

“That’s who it is!” She stared at Cassie long and hard. “A shame about her. So much tragedy in her life.” She clucked her tongue as they passed a kiosk filled with University of Oregon Ducks clothing and paraphernalia. “Now I see it. Concourse A and B. Thank you!”

With a wave of the hand clutching the boarding pass, she hurried off, joining the flow of other travelers pulling roller bags and hauling large totes toward the A Concourse.

“Cassie? Where are you?” Jenna demanded, an edge of panic in her voice. “The airport.”

She’d hoped to keep that tidbit of information under wraps. For now. “Look, Mom, I gotta go. I’m fine.”

“What’re you doing at the airport?”

“I’m going home.”

“But your home’s here . . . no, wait a minute. You’re heading to LA?”

“I need my car and personal things,” Cassie said as she threaded through the throng milling around security on her way to her gate.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

No, I’m not positive of anything. “Pretty sure.”

A beat. “I would’ve come with you.”

That’s just what you need. Jenna wringing her hands, coming up with different ideas, her worry infecting you. “Aren’t you in the middle of production of a play or something?” Ever since moving to Oregon, Jenna had helped out at the local theater, which Cassie thought was about as boring as it could get. Putting on plays in Falls Crossing, Oregon?

“Cassie,” her mother reproached.

“And you’d have to leave Shane—”

“Cassie!” More sharply this time. “Nothing’s more important than you and Allie, you know that.”

She did know it, but right now, it wasn’t enough. “Look Mom, I’m about out of battery for the phone. I’ll call you once I touch down and power up.”

“Cassie—”

“Later.” She clicked off. She didn’t have time to deal with Jenna or anyone else, for that matter. She was going to LA. Alone. And damn it, she was going to get some answers about her missing sister.