A Tap on the Window Read Free Page B

they were about the same height and build. Skinny, about five six. It would be easy enough for them to pass themselves off as each other on a dark, rainy night, from a distance, especially with the wig, similar clothes, a nearly identical bag. If they’d said they were sisters, I’d have believed it. So I asked.
    “You two sisters?”
    “What? No.”
    “You look it,” I said. “Although you need to work on the hair. It’s a bit crooked.”
    “What?”
    “The wig. It’s off-kilter.” She fiddled around with it. “That’s better. Pretty darn close to Claire’s. Not bad.”
    “She got this at a Halloween place in Buffalo,” she said. “Please, just drive me to Claire’s house, like you were going to do. It’s not far.”
    “I’m trying to figure it out. You must have been waiting for her in the bathroom. She goes in, you come out, wearing pretty much the same clothes. You went out the side door as I was going in. I popped into the ladies’ washroom.” The girl gave me a startled look. “Was Claire hiding in there until the two of us drove off?” I could picture her perched on the toilet in the second or third stall, so her legs wouldn’t show. I should have kept going after I’d pushed open that first door.
    “I guess,” she said sullenly.
    “So the idea was, whoever’s following her will start following you? And now Claire’s free to run off and do whatever it is she wants to do without whoever’s following her knowing about it.”
    “Wow,” she said. “You’re like a genius.”
    “Boyfriend stuff?” I asked.
    “Huh?”
    “Is some boy stalking Claire? She wants to ditch him and meet up with a new guy?”
    The girl made a soft snorting noise. “Yeah, sure, that’s what it’s all about.”
    “But you said it could be a different guy. Has she got more than one guy stalking her?”
    “I said that? I don’t remember.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Okay, forget your name. If it’s not a boyfriend thing, what the hell is it?”
    “Look, don’t worry about it. It’s got nothing to do with me, and it’s sure got nothing to do with you.”
    “Is Claire in some kind of trouble?”
    “Listen, mister—it’s Mr. Weaver, right? Claire said you’re Scott’s dad.”
    I nodded. “You knew Scott, too?”
    “Yeah, sure. Everyone kinda knew who he was.”
    “Did you know him well?”
    “A little. Look, like, I don’t know anything. Okay? Just let me out. Anywhere. Right here. Forget any of this ever happened. It’s none of your business.”
    I watched the wipers repeat their rhythmic swipes across the glass. “It is my business. You and Claire’ve involved me.”
    “We didn’t mean to, okay?”
    “Was someone else supposed to pick Claire up at Patchett’s? They didn’t show so she grabbed a ride with me? Who picked her up at Iggy’s?”
    “Stop the car.”
    “Come on. I can’t let you out here. This is the middle of nowhere.”
    She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed for the door handle. The car was doing about thirty. I didn’t think she’d actually open it, but she did. Just an inch or so, enough to cause a huge rush of air.
    “Jesus!” I shouted, reaching across her and scrambling for the handle. I couldn’t reach it and shouted, “Close it!” She did. “You out of your goddamn mind?”
    “I want to get out!” she screamed, loud enough to make my ears ring. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway! Claire’s gotten away.”
    “Gotten away from what?”
    “Stop the car and let me out! This is kidnapping!”
    I hit the brakes and swung the car over to the curb. We were in an area where residential met commercial, where old homes sat cheek by jowl with furniture-stripping and electrical-supply stores. There was a cross street just ahead where a suspended traffic light lazily turned from yellow to red to green and then did it all over again.
    “Look, I can take you wherever you want,” I said. “You don’t have to get out. It’s