Every Vow She Breaks

by Jannine Gallant

  “A frigging seagull flew over and pooped on my shoulder.” Her face screwed up in an expression of pure disgust. “The disgusting blob barely missed my hair.”

  His heartbeat slowed. “God, I thought someone had grabbed you.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. Maybe I overreacted a tiny bit.” She dangled the jacket from the tips of her fingers.

  A white splotch marred the otherwise spotless, black material.

  “That is pretty disgusting.”

  Leaning into the car, she emerged with a handful of tissues and wiped at the gooey mess. “No kidding, but I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I’ll survive. Dump the jacket and grab your camera. Another sea lion hit the drink when you screamed.”

  “Crap.” She tossed the garment on the floor of the backseat then retrieved her camera bag. “I’d better hurry before I lose the rest of them.”

  The door slammed, and the remote lock beeped. Jed followed her retreating figure toward the dock.

  Was this how it would be until the police found the man stalking her? He’d nearly had a heart attack imagining—he shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d imagined. Just the thought of someone touching Claire sent his blood pressure into the stratosphere.

  His footsteps slowed. A few weeks ago the gifts and notes had seemed like nothing more than a game, a mystery who-dun-it to solve. Had he really been that big an idiot to believe the freak harassing her wouldn’t escalate to a dangerous level? Or were his growing feelings for Claire the reason he saw the situation in a completely different light?

  With her camera in hand, she squatted down before adjusting the lens. Clicks were followed by more lens adjustments then more clicks.

  She stood and rested her hands on her hips. “I wonder what they’d do if I climbed down there with them?”

  “Do sea lions bite?”

  Her laughing glance sent heat straight to his groin.

  “They might if I rolled around in a pile of dead fish. I’m more concerned one would trip me and knock me into the harbor.”

  “How far are you willing to go for a picture?”

  “Not that far.” She turned away. “Let me put my camera back in the car, and then we can go eat.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  The restaurant was noisy and crowded, but the hostess was able to seat them at one of the long tables occupied by an older couple deep in conversation at the other end. She handed over menus encased in plastic then hurried away.

  Jed raised his voice to be heard. “Not exactly the most romantic atmosphere.”

  “I didn’t get the clam chowder I wanted last night, and another camper told me this place has the absolute best around.” She glanced up at him and grinned. “Romance can come later.”

  He laughed then shifted in his chair as his pants tightened uncomfortably. “You might scream like a girl, but you think like a guy.”

  “As long as I don’t look like one, I guess we’re okay.”

  His gaze ran slowly from her sparkling blue eyes over cheeks flushed pink in the warm restaurant to the curves beneath her white, clingy sweater. “No danger of that.”

  When the waitress stopped by their table to fill water glasses, Claire ordered clam chowder in a bread bowl, and he requested the fish and chips. Once the woman moved away, he took Claire’s hand.

  “You’ve been pretty quiet since we left the beach earlier. Everything okay?”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I’ve been trying to imagine who could be responsible for taking those pictures. Officer Edelman is focused on people I dated, worked with or lived near five years ago. I’ve been at Rugged America nearly a decade, but most of that time has been spent out in the field. My first editor—the one before Louise—is a man, but he was married with kids when we worked together.”

  “Doesn’t mean he didn’t lust after you in his heart.”

  “He left the magazine a few years ago, and I think he and his wife are divorced now. Anyway, I put him on the list, so I’m sure the police will check him out.”

  “What about other co-workers?” Jed released her hand when the waitress returned with Claire’s hot tea and his beer. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She shot him a quick smile. “I’ll be back shortly with your food.”

  Claire dunked the tea bag a few times. “I don’t come into contact with the other writers and photographers on staff very often, and none of them ever asked me out or showed any special interest.”

  “Neighbors?”

  “Before the apartment in San Francisco, which was my one brief try at city living since college, I rented a place down near Half Moon Bay on the peninsula. My closest neighbor, this guy named Blue, was a hippy throwback who wore tie-dyed T-shirts and smoked a ton of weed. His girlfriend, Sunshine, lived with him. I’m pretty sure he was too stoned most of the time to even know I existed.”

  “Even if he was higher than a kite, the dude would be aware of you. You aren’t easy to ignore—or forget.”

  “Yeah, right. Does he sound like the kind of person who would stalk me for five years?”

  “No.” He opened his mouth then shut it when the waitress arrived with their dinners.

  “Can I get anything else for you? Another beer maybe?”

  Jed shook his head. “I’m good.”

  Claire nodded and smiled before leaning over the bread bowl to inhale. “Thanks. This smells wonderful.”

  “Enjoy.”

  Jed broke off a piece of fish he dipped in tartar sauce. “Okay, so maybe the stalker isn’t Blue the Stoner. How about guys you used to date?”

  “Other than the bartender, there wasn’t anyone else around that time. Oh, a friend set me up on a blind date with her cousin who was in town over a weekend. I nearly killed her afterward.” Claire scooped up a spoonful of soup before continuing. “The guy acted like he was smarter than Einstein. Heck, maybe he was. I should have thought twice about going out with him after my friend told me he was in San Francisco for a space technology convention.”

  “You don’t like smart men? Should I be insulted?”

  She grinned. “I like ones who are smart enough not to brag about it.”

  He choked on a ketchup dipped French fry. “Nice distinction.” Reaching across the table, he touched her hand. “Let’s forget about all of this for the rest of the night. Let the police run their checks. Maybe they’ll come up with something.”

  She looked up at him and frowned. “I keep feeling like we’re missing an important point.”

  “The cops are trained not to miss details. Let it go and relax. No one’s going to come near you tonight.”

  “I know, but you can’t be with me twenty-four seven indefinitely. After we get home—”

  His thumb stroked across her wrist. “Let’s take it one day at a time.”

  “You’re right.” Her eyes darkened. “I don’t want to ruin our evening together or this meal. How’s your fish?”

  “Excellent.”

  He made a funny story out of his early morning encounter with Daisy’s bad breath while they finished their dinners and was relieved when Claire smiled. She’d been tense to the point of breaking all day and needed time to unwind. The one topic neither broached was their declaration of love on the beach. The feelings were too new—too fragile—and needed to be treated with care.

  Stabbing the last fry into ketchup, he pushed his plate back and picked up the bill the waitress had left on the table. “Finished?”

  She nodded. “I ate way too much, but the chowder was too good to waste. I’m ready to go back to the campsite and collapse. It’s been a long day.”

  “Sounds perfect to me.” Standing, he pulled out her chair then took her arm as they crossed the room to the entrance. After paying the cashier, he pushed open the door and stepped outside.

  Claire shivered. “It’s cold. Damned seagull.”

  Wrapping his arm around her t
o help ward off the chill, he headed toward the SUV. “I’d forgotten about your close encounter with the avian bomber.”

  “I didn’t. I—” Her cell phone trilled from inside her purse. She glanced up, blue eyes changing to cobalt. “There’s absolutely no one I want to talk to right now. Present company excluded.”

  “Then ignore it.”

  She sighed. “What if it’s Officer Edelman with news? I’d better answer.” She pulled out her phone and frowned at the display.

  “Hi, Theresa. What’s up?”

  Claire listened for a minute, her face losing some of its color. Jed bent closer but couldn’t hear what the woman was saying.

  “No. Thanks for calling me. I’ll let the police up here know the man has definitely left the area.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. No, I’ll be okay. Jed’s here. I’ll talk to you when I get home.” She stuffed the phone back in her purse.

  “What happened?”

  “My stalker is back in Shady Bend.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. The moon had risen while they ate and shed all too revealing light over lines of pain etched in her face. He wanted to touch them, somehow erase the creases. Frustration simmered, but he wouldn’t lose control again. Damn it to hell, he’d be the rock Claire needed.

  “That psycho spray-painted words on the front door of my great-aunt’s—my house.”

  His grip tightened.

  “‘Broken vow. Broken heart. Payback’s a bitch.’ That’s what it said. Ouch!”

  “Sorry.” He loosened his hold. “How did Theresa find out about it?”

  “The contractor forgot some tools he needed for another job and went back to the house around six to get them. He found the painted message on the door and called the police to report it. Theresa said he tried my cell, but I didn’t answer so he called her. It must have been while I was showering before we left for the restaurant. The timing is right, and I forgot to check my messages.”

  Her voice was calm and steady, but a fine tremor quivered through her.

  He pulled her closer. “Let’s go back to the motor home. You can make any necessary calls from there.”

  She nodded. When they reached the SUV, she stopped then glanced up at him. For a brief moment, her composure cracked. “Is this ever going to end?”

  “Hell, yes, it’ll end. Soon, Claire.” He stroked her cheek, a gentle caress. “Can’t you feel it? The guy is coming apart at the seams. The only thing that’s going to be broken is him.”

  * * * *

  After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Claire scrubbed the stained jacket in the sink of the campground’s restroom. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away. Exhaustion from a mostly sleepless night combined with anger and fear had stolen the last of her strength. Jed was absolutely the only thing keeping her from a complete breakdown. As it was, the urge to wallow in self-pity ranked right up there beside a burning desire to kick the guy tormenting her right in the—

  “Claire, are you okay in there?”

  She glanced into the mirror at the sound of Jed’s voice. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” With the water turned off, she squeezed the moisture from her jacket. Hopefully the bird poop wouldn’t leave a stain. Not that a ruined coat was the worst of her problems at the moment.

  Jed and Scoop waited outside the restroom. Holding the flashlight beam steady on the path, he led the way back to the RV. Once they were inside with the door shut, he pulled her into his arms. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

  “Want to go to bed?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “We haven’t talked much about—”

  A sharp rap at the door interrupted him.

  “What the hell?” He released her, stepped to the window then pulled the curtain aside.

  “Claire, it’s Mateo—uh, Officer Hernandez. I have news.”

  Jed dropped the curtain and scowled. “He couldn’t have picked up the phone?”

  Pushing Scoop out of the way, she opened the door. “Come in.”

  The young cop filled the entrance. Claire stepped back and ran straight into Jed’s chest. One arm came around her. Hernandez’s gaze dropped then rose to meet hers. A resigned smile tugged at his lips.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know the police in Shady Bend took a suspect in for questioning regarding the spray-painting incident.”

  Relief washed over her, leaving her weak with thankfulness. “They found the man?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s wonderful. Who is he?”

  “Your ex-husband, Ian Rutledge. Police discovered him on your property a couple hours after the vandalism was reported. He denies having anything to do with it, but—”

  “I don’t believe it.” Claire felt for the edge of the table and dropped onto the bench seat. “Ian might do something stupid in a fit of anger, but this deliberate, planned attack isn’t his style. Anyway, he’s a busy man. He wouldn’t have had time to follow me around taking pictures for the last five years.”

  Jed rested a hand on her shoulder. “For the most part, months separated the dates for each photo. Rutledge would have vacation time and sabbaticals for research or whatever. Look how long he’s been hanging out in the woods hunting for a Bigfoot.”

  “The authorities in Shady Bend will look into his whereabouts during the times the pictures were taken. They’ll be taking over the active investigation.” The officer’s gaze held steady. “I thought you’d be happy with the news.”

  Her shoulders lifted. “I want the harassment to stop, but not like this. I don’t want it to be Ian. At one point we were…close.” An ache in her chest made drawing a breath difficult. “I never thought he was responsible. Despite how our relationship ended, I can’t believe he’d want to hurt me.”

  “Doesn’t seem like this creep believes he’s hurting you. In some warped way, he loves you and obviously wants you back.” Hernandez shifted, his cheeks coloring. “I can understand a man being completely infatuated with you. You’re—”

  “Involved with me.”

  The cop glanced at Jed. “Maybe that’s what pushed him over the edge. If this guy wants to marry her, seeing you constantly at her side has to be a hell of a blow.”

  Claire frowned. “I still don’t think the person who planned all those notes and gifts, who took those pictures, was Ian.”

  “Then why was he on your property?”

  “What reason did he give the police?”

  Hernandez rolled his eyes. “He said he was pissed because the cops had questioned him earlier about his whereabouts after your motor home was vandalized. He claims he went to your house to tell you to get them off his back because he’d had a near breakthrough in the woods and didn’t want any distractions. Claimed he didn’t know you weren’t home.”

  “Now that sounds like Ian. Full of demands. Focused on his work.” She looked up at Jed. “Do you suppose he actually saw a Bigfoot? Seems pretty unlikely.”

  “If he’s the one who left those pictures, he’s batshit crazy. Who knows what he imagines he saw.”

  “Ian may be obsessed, but he isn’t insane.”

  “Obsessed with you.” Hernandez’s comment left silence in its wake. Finally he turned toward the door. “I’ll go. I’m sure the police in Shady Bend will be in contact once you arrive there.”

  Claire rose on unsteady legs. “Thanks for coming by to tell me about Ian. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. Good-bye, Claire.” He paused with his hand on the knob. “The authorities will focus their attention on Rutledge. In case you’re right and he isn’t guilty, watch yourself. The freak who’s after you may be getting desperate…and dangerous.”

  Jed stepped up to put his arm around her. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  “Good.” The door slammed shut behind him.

  He let her go then pushed a hand through his ha
ir. “Well, that was interesting.”

  Stepping over Scoop’s prone form, Claire brushed past Jed to sit on the edge of the bed. “Interesting isn’t the word I’d choose. Horrible.” Her stomach churned, and she wished she hadn’t eaten all that chowder. “Sickening.”

  “Why?” He sat beside her, his thigh pressed the length of hers.

  “I’d rather it was Blue the Stoner or my old editor or my eighty-year-old neighbor in Marin…anyone but a man I once cared about. I’m not that bad a judge of character. I would know if Ian was unbalanced because that’s what this pervert is. Whacko. Looney tunes. Or, as you so colorfully put it, batshit crazy.”

  “You haven’t spent time with him in years. Fifteen or so, right? He might have changed.”

  “Another point in favor of Ian’s innocence. Why would he wait ten years to start taking pictures of me? It makes no sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Unless he didn’t wait. Could be he just pinned up the most recent photos.”

  She jerked back. “That’s what was bothering me. Something kept niggling at the back of my brain. Just because the oldest picture was from five years ago doesn’t mean the man didn’t take more before that. He could have a whole stash of photos he didn’t use.”

  “So then you do think it could be Ian?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I won’t believe it’s him until I catch him mailing out wedding invitations or booking a honeymoon. The point is, the guy responsible could be someone I knew ten years ago or twelve or whatever, not necessarily the five we focused on. That’s a lot of old neighbors and co-workers, along with maybe a couple dozen different men I dated once or twice over the years.”

  “It would take the police a long time to check out every man you’ve ever been in contact with. And since they have a perfectly good suspect right in Shady Bend…”

  Claire let out a long breath. “They won’t even bother.”

  He picked up her hand to squeeze it. “Where does that leave us?”

  “Screwed.”

  Chapter 24

  Claire bumped down the driveway and braked her motor home to a stop beside a battered green truck with a lumber rack. Leaning on the steering wheel, she studied the front of her house. No spray-painted message on the door. She’d been dreading the first glimpse for the last hundred miles or so. Her brows knit. No paint period. Someone—undoubtedly the contractor she’d hired—had sanded the front door down to bare wood.