thorough and took comfort in the fact that he hadn’t found anything nasty in Hoag’s file that would raise fear for Beth.
“Beth doesn’t have a car registered with the DMV. I went ahead and initiated a search on Beth’s credit cards, bank info, etcetera,” Jake went on. “It’ll come through my home computer shortly. I’ll print a copy of whatever turns up for you and drop it by your place on my way into work tomorrow, or you can pick it up at my place. I’ll be home all day.”
He sounded distracted. Clare wondered if that had something to do with whatever emergency had compelled him to go home yesterday after his talk with Cal Dawson.
The last thing she wanted to do was go to Jake’s house, but she did want a look at Beth’s recent credit card transactions. She also wanted to arrange access to Jake’s office.
“I’m on my way,” Clare said, and disconnected.
Chapter Eight
When Clare pulled into Jake’s driveway, he was on a ladder painting the eaves trough of his house. Chocolate brown was slowly giving way to sunny yellow.
She parked beside his SUV on the double drive, then left the car. She took in her surroundings as she made her way to the cement walkway the ladder was perched on. A small inflatable pool filled with water sat on the freshly mowed lawn in the shade of a live oak. A wooden swing that glistened with wet paint the same color as the eaves troughs hung from the thick limb of that tree. The scents of freshly cut grass and paint filled the air.
She could imagine Jake pushing the swing for the young girl she’d seen him with yesterday—the child that Clare assumed was his daughter. Against her will, she thought of him standing behind a woman seated on that swing, her smiling face tilted back to his, as he rocked the swing gently.
She looked away from the swing.
Jake was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that were faded from many washes. He glanced down at her from the second rung of the ladder and nodded to her as she reached him. His eyelids looked heavy as if he hadn’t slept, and again she was reminded of his urgency to be home yesterday.
Since he was doing the mundane chore of painting, it appeared the crisis was over in the Sutton house.
Jake set the paintbrush across the open can. “The report on Beth came through. File’s on the chair, on the porch. Not much there and no credit cards to report on. Beth doesn’t have any.”
“What about joint—with Ryder?”
“Nada. Likewise for a bank account. Nothing with Ryder. Nothing on her own here in Farley either. She does have an account in Columbia though.”
“Columbia?”
“Yup. Set it up eighteen months ago. She’s the only one named on the account. She had a couple thousand in it until last week when she withdrew it all. She’s got debit card access, though the account is drained at the moment. That’s it.”
Clare retrieved the folder. In addition to the account history, the number and bank where it was located were also listed.
She shook her head and sighed. “It just couldn’t be that easy.”
“Tracking her through her card use was a long shot,” Jake said. “The secretive way that Beth made plans to leave town suggests that she doesn’t want to be found. She may know she would leave a trail if she used her debit card and opted to take the cash instead.”
“A trail for whom, though, I’m wondering,” Clare said softly.
“What?”
“You said Beth may not have wanted to use her debit card because she knows it can be traced. I’m wondering who she thinks will want to trace her. When I spoke with Ryder, he made it clear that he isn’t interested in a woman who doesn’t want him. Makes me think why all the drama of making secret plans to run away? Why take off? Why not just tell Dean she wanted a divorce?”
Jake was quiet for a moment, mulling that over. “Any theories?”
Clare recalled her conversation with Gladys. “Mrs. Linney thinks Beth is afraid of her husband.”
Jake frowned. “What makes her think
“Beth doesn’t have a car registered with the DMV. I went ahead and initiated a search on Beth’s credit cards, bank info, etcetera,” Jake went on. “It’ll come through my home computer shortly. I’ll print a copy of whatever turns up for you and drop it by your place on my way into work tomorrow, or you can pick it up at my place. I’ll be home all day.”
He sounded distracted. Clare wondered if that had something to do with whatever emergency had compelled him to go home yesterday after his talk with Cal Dawson.
The last thing she wanted to do was go to Jake’s house, but she did want a look at Beth’s recent credit card transactions. She also wanted to arrange access to Jake’s office.
“I’m on my way,” Clare said, and disconnected.
Chapter Eight
When Clare pulled into Jake’s driveway, he was on a ladder painting the eaves trough of his house. Chocolate brown was slowly giving way to sunny yellow.
She parked beside his SUV on the double drive, then left the car. She took in her surroundings as she made her way to the cement walkway the ladder was perched on. A small inflatable pool filled with water sat on the freshly mowed lawn in the shade of a live oak. A wooden swing that glistened with wet paint the same color as the eaves troughs hung from the thick limb of that tree. The scents of freshly cut grass and paint filled the air.
She could imagine Jake pushing the swing for the young girl she’d seen him with yesterday—the child that Clare assumed was his daughter. Against her will, she thought of him standing behind a woman seated on that swing, her smiling face tilted back to his, as he rocked the swing gently.
She looked away from the swing.
Jake was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that were faded from many washes. He glanced down at her from the second rung of the ladder and nodded to her as she reached him. His eyelids looked heavy as if he hadn’t slept, and again she was reminded of his urgency to be home yesterday.
Since he was doing the mundane chore of painting, it appeared the crisis was over in the Sutton house.
Jake set the paintbrush across the open can. “The report on Beth came through. File’s on the chair, on the porch. Not much there and no credit cards to report on. Beth doesn’t have any.”
“What about joint—with Ryder?”
“Nada. Likewise for a bank account. Nothing with Ryder. Nothing on her own here in Farley either. She does have an account in Columbia though.”
“Columbia?”
“Yup. Set it up eighteen months ago. She’s the only one named on the account. She had a couple thousand in it until last week when she withdrew it all. She’s got debit card access, though the account is drained at the moment. That’s it.”
Clare retrieved the folder. In addition to the account history, the number and bank where it was located were also listed.
She shook her head and sighed. “It just couldn’t be that easy.”
“Tracking her through her card use was a long shot,” Jake said. “The secretive way that Beth made plans to leave town suggests that she doesn’t want to be found. She may know she would leave a trail if she used her debit card and opted to take the cash instead.”
“A trail for whom, though, I’m wondering,” Clare said softly.
“What?”
“You said Beth may not have wanted to use her debit card because she knows it can be traced. I’m wondering who she thinks will want to trace her. When I spoke with Ryder, he made it clear that he isn’t interested in a woman who doesn’t want him. Makes me think why all the drama of making secret plans to run away? Why take off? Why not just tell Dean she wanted a divorce?”
Jake was quiet for a moment, mulling that over. “Any theories?”
Clare recalled her conversation with Gladys. “Mrs. Linney thinks Beth is afraid of her husband.”
Jake frowned. “What makes her think
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