by Brenda Novak
A trickle of unease went through Claire. She didn’t want another confrontation with her sister, especially with Carrie listening in. If her parents or David’s parents learned she was seeing Isaac, they wouldn’t be happy. They’d remind her of what happened last time and she’d probably end up in another argument with them. “Funny you should ask. Give me a minute so we don’t hold Carrie up,” she said, and turned back to her client. “That’s twenty-five dollars, as always.”
Leanne’s displeasure hung over the room like an over-cast sky. No doubt Carrie could sense it. She kept glancing at Lee as she wrote her check. “Here you go.” She seemed about to linger, no doubt hoping to hear their conversation. But Claire walked her to the door.
“It was great to see you, Car. Sorry I missed book group but I’ll be there next week.”
Carrie’s eyes darted back to Leanne. “You should come, too, Lee. This week we’re reading Room by Emma Donoghue. It’s a really intriguing story.”
“I have no interest in books.” Leanne said it as if she had no interest in the group, either, which she didn’t. Claire had invited her before. She said she’d have plenty of time for book groups when she was old and couldn’t do anything more “fun.”
Perhaps some of the members weren’t the most interesting people in town—a few were downright stuffy—but reading helped Claire keep her mind off David, and knowing she had a deadline made her more focused on getting through each book. Without that, she’d lie in front of the TV every night missing her husband, something she did far too often as it was.
“Thanks again.” Claire held the door.
Since she was cornered into leaving, Carrie finally nodded. “See you Thursday.”
Claire breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut. “I’m expecting another client,” she said. “So if you’ve come to start an argument, I’d appreciate it if you waited until I’m off. You might get your workshop all to yourself every day, but I have to maintain a professional atmosphere.”
Leanne maneuvered the chair to face her. “Quit trying to delay this. No one’s here now, and it won’t take you more than a second to explain why you never came home last night—again.”
“If what you do is none of my business, then what I do is none of yours, right?”
This wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she found words. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“That’s all.” If she didn’t offer a lie, Leanne couldn’t catch her in it later.
Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “Are you seeing someone, Claire?”
“No. Stop it.”
“You are, aren’t you? It’s Isaac Morgan! You’ve gone back to him.”
Claire wasn’t surprised she’d guessed, not when she’d seen his truck in front of her place twice—and it had stayed there all night one of those times. But it was important to downplay her and Isaac’s relationship, or the whole town would start buzzing with the news that David’s widow was having sex with her former lover.
“He’s a friend. That’s all.”
“A friend who spends the night with you?”
Denying it wasn’t going to work. Even if she could convince Leanne, Leanne wasn’t the only one who knew they’d been together. Rusty did, too. And other people might have seen her get into Isaac’s truck when he picked her up on the street. Isaac wasn’t the boy next door; he had a reputation. No one would believe they were hanging out together as mere friends.
Which left Claire one option—to confront all questions with absolute transparency. If she admitted to a romantic involvement, there’d be less for the curious to ferret out and, she hoped, the scandal would blow over more quickly.
“Yes, actually. Friends with benefits,” she said. “You’ve heard of that, right?” Of course she had, but Claire didn’t want her to think she was trying to get away with less than the truth.
“Everyone’s heard of that, except maybe the ladies you see on Thursday nights. Some of them grew up in the Big Band Era. So you’re not really…dating.”
“Nope. Just sleeping together.” And their encounters generally included some force-feeding, but no one would care about that. It wasn’t sensational enough. “Does that answer your question?”
Leanne gaped at her. “Do you realize who he is, Claire?”
“I know he’s amazing in bed. That’s all that matters at the moment.”
“But just a couple nights ago you were warning me not to ruin my reputation. Now you’re going to sew a giant F on your chest? Be the talk of the town? Even when Isaac tries to be discreet, people pay too much attention to him. He’s a celebrity around here, for crying out loud.”
Claire angled her chin in a belligerent fashion. “You said you don’t mind gossip. Maybe I decided to take a page from your book.”
They glared at each other—until Leanne broke the silence.
“Claire, listen. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so close to the edge. I know what happened with Mom really did a number on you, but you’ve always been strong. I guess…I guess I figured you could move on if I could. Losing her wasn’t easy on me, either. But…I feel responsible for this, as if I pushed you into his arms. We haven’t been getting along and that hasn’t left you with anyone you can really talk to. But I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
Claire didn’t want to hear this. She bent over her desk to count the number of clients remaining on the schedule. Already dead on her feet, she wished she could just crawl into bed.
Fortunately, her workday ended at four, only two hours away. Maybe she’d have time for a nap before the big date. “Come on, you’re overreacting. What do you think he’s going to do to me?”
What he’d done to her before, of course. At least Leanne wasn’t asking about April. The book group ladies must not have mentioned seeing her car there when they went to Leanne’s house. It could get back to her eventually, but it wasn’t now and that was a small blessing. Maybe with such big news as her involvement with Isaac hitting the gossip scene, that tidbit would fall by the wayside completely.
One could hope. She’d didn’t want to hurt Roni.
“You’re kidding!” Leanne said. “Isaac Morgan’s a bona fide heartbreaker, and no one knows that better than you. And now you’re on the rebound. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
God, even her hard-drinking sister could plainly see what was in store. Still, Claire wouldn’t acknowledge the danger. If she did pay a price for her actions, she’d suffer without letting anyone know, unless, of course, that price included pregnancy. But she’d deal with that if she had to. “I won’t get hurt. He’s just a friend, a way to break up the monotony.”
Leanne slid her tongue over her teeth. “He’s got to be more fun than that geriatric book group you’ve got going.”
“Those ladies aren’t geriatric.”
“Half of them are over seventy.”
“So? They’re nice.”
“I’m not talking about nice. I’m saying they can’t give you the same kind of thrill.”
“No woman can.”
“Not very many men, either,” she said with a conspirator’s laugh.
Claire didn’t find that comment funny. The appreciation in her sister’s voice jammed a shard of fear into her chest. “Wait a second. You’ve never been with him, have you?” The question alone made it difficult to breathe. Say no. Please say no, or I’m going to be sick right here…?. She’d heard the vehicles that sometimes came and went in the night, but she usually didn’t get up to see who was driving. She didn’t want to know. Not knowing made it easier to pretend Leanne didn’t entertain as often as she did.
Her sister winked at her. “I’m not the type to kiss and tell.”
There was no time to push for more. Selina Spangler had walked in for her cut and color.
Myles King got up and closed the door to his office almost as soon as Isaac arrived. “I’m glad you came by. Rusty Clegg asked
me to have a word with you.”
Isaac removed his sunglasses. The drive to Libby took thirty minutes, and the sun seemed especially bright today. “Rusty already told me to back off, if that’s what you’re intending to do.”
“Rusty was upset by your conversation, which is why he asked me to intervene. David meant a lot to him.”
“David meant a lot to many people. That’s one of the reasons I believe you owe it to Pineview to confirm that he died the way we think he did.”
Myles didn’t take even a second to respond. “I’m not sure I’ll like what you have to say any more than Rusty did.”
Great, not only had he been tipped off, he’d been prejudiced. Refusing to let that upset him, Isaac took the seat across from Myles. If he was going to get anywhere with Les Weaver, he needed the sheriff’s help. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “Murder one is a serious accusation.”
“Not only that but I don’t want to get the whole community up in arms until I have proof. David’s parents have been through enough, losing him the way they did, and at such a young age. Claire has been through enough, too. She still hasn’t recovered. All you have to do is look at her to know that.”
Which was why Isaac thought it was time to intervene. “You don’t think I’ve considered what you’re saying?”
The sheriff’s chair squealed as he pulled it away from the desk so he could sit. “I guess where I get confused is this—what’s your interest in the situation, Isaac? Why are you getting involved?”
His interest was Claire. Now that she was back in his life, he wanted to be sure she achieved the resolution she needed. But he also knew how quickly everyone would doubt him if he said he was trying to do a good deed. No one would believe it was that simple. Although he hadn’t landed himself in trouble in years, they’d treat him like he was the big bad wolf coming to blow down the poor widow’s house.
The people of Pineview had tolerated—more kindly than some towns would have—an abandoned child in their midst, but they possessed very long memories. They would never let him live down his past. “Someone’s got to make sure it is what it appears to be. Might as well be me.”
“That’s it? That’s all there is to it?”
“That’s it.”
Myles swiveled back and forth as he mulled over Isaac’s response. “But I’m not convinced there’s any connection between David’s death and Alana’s disappearance,” he finally said.
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Do you have any evidence to support your opinion?”
Clasping his hands loosely between his legs, Isaac leaned forward. “No evidence. Yet. But I’ve come across some interesting coincidences.”
Myles opened a notebook. “I’m all ears.”
“First of all, David was researching Alana’s death and was raising enough questions to negate the argument that she ran off. What he was doing would eventually lead to police involvement, which made someone very nervous.”
“I’m supposed to take what you say David was doing on faith?”
“You don’t have to. It’s all in the files.”
“What files?”
“The case files.”
Now Myles was really skeptical. No longer the open-minded listener, he leaned forward. “And how would you know anything about the case files?”
“Somehow, David got a copy of them before he died. They had to have come from your office so I initially thought Rusty must’ve provided them. But when I spoke to him, he denied it and seemed completely unaware that David was even pursuing the mystery.”
Someone knocked on the door, a deputy, but Myles hollered that he’d be out in a few minutes. Then his eyes shifted back to Isaac. “You haven’t mentioned how you know he had any files.”
“Claire found them at the studio the night she was pushed down by that unknown assailant. They had his writing all over them.”
The sheriff dropped his pen. He was beginning to catch on. “Why weren’t they there when I searched?”
“Because I’d already taken them. She was afraid she’d lose them otherwise. They contained information she hadn’t been privy to before. Some progress David had made, like I said. And some conflicting testimony and facts that didn’t quite jive with what she’d been told. Things law enforcement kept from her and the press.”
“Like…”
Was this a test? “Leanne’s absence from school on the day in question.”
His mouth flattened into a thin line. If it had been a test, he’d just passed. “Then you’re right. That had to come from my office. But I have no idea how.”
Isaac couldn’t help him there. “All I know is what I saw.”
The chair creaked as he rocked back. “David having copies of what’s in our files doesn’t mean he was killed because of it.”
“That’s not all I’ve got to tell you.”
“Go on.”
“I went to see the man who shot him.”
At this Myles straightened. “In Idaho?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re damn serious about all of this.”
“I am.”
“And what did you learn?”
Isaac pictured the polished, wealthy lawyer. “He’s a far cry from any hunter I’ve ever met. And he’s not exactly a stand-up guy.”
“You gathered that from one meeting? How long were you there?”
“Not long. He brushed me off as soon as he could, but not before he gave me some song and dance about how devastated he was by what he’d done.”
“Which you didn’t believe.”
Isaac stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “I did at first. He told me he was so traumatized he couldn’t hunt anymore, that he’d got rid of every gun he owned because he can’t bear the sight of them.”
Myles steepled his fingers. “Any man would feel that way.”
“But it was a lie. He still has a whole cabinet full of guns. I could see them from his backyard.”
“They could belong to a friend or family member.”
“They were inside his house. And there was something else that struck me as odd.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s a bankruptcy attorney.”
“That makes him a bloodsucker, not a murderer,” Myles joked.
“But how many bankruptcy attorneys do you know who’ve witnessed a client shoot himself to death?”
Myles got to his feet. “This happened to him?”
“He said it did—right in his office.”
“Why would he tell you that?”
“He thought it’s what motivated my visit.”
“Shit.” Turning, he stared through the slats of the blind.
Isaac stood, too. “So now you have someone who’s accidentally shot a man while hunting and who’s also been involved in another unusual death.”
“Suicide isn’t murder,” he argued, but he didn’t sound nearly as unfriendly or unconvinced as he had when Isaac first arrived.
“Maybe it wasn’t suicide,” Isaac suggested.
Myles blew out a sigh. “I admit these coincidences are odd, but…the suicide must’ve checked out.”
“If the police did their homework, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get a look at their findings. The details might shed some more light on Les Weaver.”
No response.
“Come on, all I’m asking is that you poke around a bit. Learn how and why someone died in his office and figure out whether or not he had any connection to Pineview. He claims he came here alone, for the first time, without knowing a soul. A check of his phone records for the months leading up to David’s death would tell us if he was having regular conversations with anyone in this area. And if he was…”
“We could have a killer on the loose,” Myles finished.
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18
When Claire opened her eyes, she could tell she hadn’t been sleeping long, and the clock confirmed it. 1:58 a.m
. Why was she awake? She wanted to sink back into the nothingness she’d just left—and would have if not for the odd noise that nudged her toward consciousness.
It sounded like someone was at the back door.
Was it Leanne? She couldn’t think of anyone besides her sister who’d come over so late…?.
In the next instant, she sat bolt upright. Leanne wouldn’t be at her back door in the middle of the night. Someone was trying to get in. She could hear the click, click of the knob as it turned back and forth.
Who was it? And why was that person here?
Wondering if maybe those noises hadn’t been as distinctive as she’d first imagined, if maybe it was just some animal rustling around, she got out of bed and tiptoed into the living room, where she could peer around the corner and through the moonlit kitchen.
She hadn’t been imagining anything. The dark shadow of a man stood on the other side of the glass.
Her heart jumped into her throat. As she watched, too panic-stricken to move, he left the door and went around to press his face to the window over her sink.
Claire screamed before she realized it was Isaac. Then her chest heaved as she tried to recover from the fright he’d given her. Why was he prowling around her yard?
He’d heard her. She saw his head turn in her direction. He probably couldn’t see her, since she was hidden behind the wall and it was darker inside than out, but he jogged to the front, where she met him as he stepped onto the porch.
“What are you doing here?” she cried. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He didn’t seem chastised; he seemed concerned. His eyes ran over her from head to foot. “You’re okay?”
Why wouldn’t she be okay? Before he’d disturbed her, she’d been getting some much-needed rest. “I’m fine, why?”
“Someone called me from a pay phone. I’m pretty sure it was a man, but even that was hard to tell. He had the mouthpiece covered and was talking so low I could barely hear. He said, ‘Claire’s in trouble.’”
“Are you serious?”
His hair stood up on one side as if he’d just rolled out of bed himself. “Do I look like I’m doing this for kicks?”