Page 10 of Nowhere Good

“Do you ever hear any fighting or yelling or anything like that?”

“Oh, Lordy, I’m surrounded by so many drunk shitheads in this park, I wouldn’t be able to tell where it’s coming from if it was in my own dang backyard.”

“So there is yelling.”

Glenda shrugged. Even if there were issues with Claire and Dillon, he doubted she would tell him. He took out his phone anyway and pulled up Eliza’s yearbook photo.

“Have you ever seen this woman around the park?”

She tilted her head back and adjusted her glasses, then wrinkled her nose in something like disgust. “No, but I seen the other one. The one with the boobs.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Don’t know ’er name, but she looks kinda like Claire with her hair and all that, but much less decent. Dressed like a floosy, showed up bangin’ on Claire and Dillon’s door ’bout a month ago, but Dillon told ’er to scram. Smelled like trouble.”

If that person had been Eliza, it’d be a game changer. “You’re sure it wasn’t this woman?”

Glenda scrutinized the photo. “Nope, wasn’t her. That’s Gilly’s daughter, Eliza—I heard what happened to ’er, poor thing. Nope, never seen Eliza ’round here, but I’ve seen that other girl. She’s no good, no good at all, that one.”

He lowered his phone. Damn it.

“Detective?”

Seth turned. Claire held open the screen door to her trailer, watching them.

He bowed away from Glenda. “Excuse me.”

“See ya, sugar!”

Claire had a cautious expression as he approached her front porch. She wore the same clothes as earlier: a white T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, low-waisted. And while she’d welcomed him into her family’s bar with a full smile earlier, now her posture was more tense, guarded. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. She had elvish ears and a beautiful face; wide-set eyes and full lips, a small nose tinged with pink.

He tried not to give it too much thought as he said, “Evening, Claire. Is Dillon home?”

She leaned into the doorframe. “He’s not here.” She had a drawl to her voice, but her words were clipped. Night and day compared to the smiley girl earlier.

“Huh. He wouldn’t be avoiding me, would he?”

“No, no, he wouldn’t do that.”

Seth peered into the trailer behind her. A fist-shaped hole perforated the drywall at the end of the hall. Claire took notice of him looking, then moved her body in front of it. He said nothing, but glanced up her arms for any sign of trauma. She hugged herself tighter.

“That’s not what it looks like, and you’re not gonna find any bruises on me. I wouldn’t be with someone like that.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you—that wasn’t my intention.”

She deflated. “That’s all right… I get it, you’re a cop or whatever.” She took a breath and glanced over her shoulder again, then bit her lip. “Dillon should be home soon, so…”

He needed to see the inside of that trailer. “You mind if we talk inside while we wait?”

“I was in the middle of cleaning, but… sure, come on in.”

Inside, it was too warm and smelled like layers of Lysol and candles on top of pot smoke, like the latter was trying—and failing—to be eliminated. The parquet floor shone, freshly streaked from a mop. He found himself looking down at Claire in the very narrow hallway. Nibbling on her lip, she peeked up at him once before she gestured for him to follow.

“Sorry about the mess. Dillon had a party last night.” Claire scurried around the living room, throwing bottles and cans into an already half-full recycling bag. Ash from cigarettes spread like sand all over the coffee table, like whoever was smoking didn’t even bother to use a tray. Another hole in the drywall above the couch, parallel to paintings of nice flowers on the wall. Sunflowers, daisies. Hand-painted with a C in the corner of each.

“Must’ve been some party,” Seth said, hands in the pockets of his slacks. It was probably cozy in here without the mess.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know.” Claire stuffed another can into the bag. “He doesn’t like me hanging around his friends, so I normally screw off whenever they’re over.”