Gone Read Online Free PDF Page A

anger. She welcomed it and focused on it rather than the feeling of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. Teeth gritted, she said. “Never mind, I’ll get my answers elsewhere.”
“There’s no answer to get. She’s gone. You go, too. Get out of Farley like your slut of a sister!”
Clare let the screen door slam behind her. After the dim interior of the house, the bright sun was near-blinding, and she shielded her eyes with the back of one hand while she fumbled in her purse for the car keys. Getting out of Farley was what she was not going to do. She hadn’t come this far to give up. She would never give up .
In her car, she started the engine then backed out of Connie’s drive and set off down the street. A white cat streaked in front of the bumper. Clare stomped on the brake and the car screeched to a halt. She suppressed a shriek of her own. Her fingers were clamped around the steering wheel and her stomach was tight. Clare realized she was trembling. Not the fault of the near-mishap with the feline. She was still reeling from learning that she’d missed Katie. Again.
In all the years she’d been searching for her sister, there’d been a few times when she’d thought she was close to finding her, only to have the lead fizzle. None, though, had been as close as this time.
Because she’d been so close, she’d gone beyond the vague hope of someday being with Katie again to an expectation that a reunion with her sister was imminent. She’d just fallen hard from a great height. The disappointment felt like the weight of an elephant crushing her. She pressed her forehead hard to the vinyl-wrapped steering wheel.
The pain would paralyze her if she allowed it. She forced herself to raise her head. This was just another glitch. She would find Katie. She told herself that after each false lead. It was do that, or go quietly insane. This time though, it was not a false lead she was pursuing. She had an identity for Katie that she could use to find her.
Clare shook her head, shook off the despair. Relaxing her grip on the steering wheel, she renewed her determination and slid her foot to the gas pedal again.
Connie may not know where Katie went, but Katie’s husband might. She’d proceed as planned to Katie’s house, though this time, to speak with her sister’s husband.
She glanced at the dashboard clock. Coming up on noon. Unless Katie’s husband didn’t work mornings, or knocked off work early for the day, it wasn’t likely that he’d be at home at this time. No matter. She’d camp out on his doorstep until he returned.
Clare drove on. A sign proclaimed the next street she came to as Bridge Road. A creek flowed slowly below. Two men in floppy hats sat beneath a Live Oak, lowering fishing poles into the still water. After sundown, Clare imagined a breeze would blow in off the water. If the heat didn’t let up, she just might go there and find out.
She found Bridge Road on the diagram. Daisy Lane was one street south of that.
The houses on Daisy Lane were small, single-story dwellings that showed pride of ownership with well-tended lawns and paint that shone on eaves troughs, porches, and doors. Katie’s place was no exception. Clare parked her car by the curb, and leaning forward in the driver’s seat, got her first look at Katie’s house.
All visible trim was painted white. Even in the unforgiving glare of sunlight, the white was as bright and chaste as new fallen snow, making a lie of the old adage that white was hard to maintain. The lawn looked as fresh and lush as a golf green. A row of thriving petunias lined the edge of a painted wooden porch.
Clare smiled. Unlike herself, Katie had a green thumb. Unable to resist a closer look at her sister’s home, she braced herself against the heat, and left the car.
A freesia bush bloomed with pink petals. The sweet scent hung in the still air. Upon closer observation, Clare noticed that the bush was carefully trimmed so that its branches were aligned.