“Which basically means we’ll probably never know who was behind the wheel,” she replied. “I still think it was just some crazy nut speeding down the street who didn’t see me. Maybe it was somebody texting while driving. I just don’t believe that somebody intentionally tried to run me down. And now, what are the plans for today?”
“I’ll let you know when we get to my place,” he replied mysteriously.
“We still have a lot of people to talk to,” she replied. “Even though we talked to Shelly’s closest friends, she had lots of other friends in her life, and she might have confided something to a coworker at the Pirate’s Inn.”
Bo held a hand up, as if to stop her before she named every person in town. “We’ll get there, Claire. How are you feeling? The knees doing okay?”
“The knees are already on the mend, although I have to confess that I’m feeling some aches in muscles I didn’t know I had. What about you?”
“I feel a little beat up,” he admitted. “We both had a hard landing last night.” He pulled into his driveway, shut off the car and unbuckled his seat belt. “And that’s why I’ve made the executive decision that we’re taking the day off.”
“The day off?” She looked at him blankly.
He offered her a small, sexy smile. “Yeah, you know, a day where we don’t talk to anyone, we don’t work the case and we just hang out and relax.” He frowned suddenly. “Unless there’s somebody else you’d rather hang out with for the day.”
“No, not at all. I just assumed you’d be eager to push forward on the investigation.”
“I am, but just not today.” He got out of the car and Claire did the same and followed him into the house. Jimmy was sprawled in a recliner chair in the living room and he greeted her with his usual friendly smile. He grabbed the remote and muted the television, which was tuned to a news station.
“Heard you had an exciting evening last night,” he said.
“Way too exciting for my taste,” she replied and sat down on the sofa. She’d almost been nervous to spend the day in the house with Bo, afraid that he might try to kiss her again and she might let him. She’d forgotten that Jimmy would be here, too.
“Something to drink?” Bo asked, poised between the living room and kitchen.
As usual he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark gray T-shirt and looked hot and sexy. “Something cold, if it’s not too much trouble,” Claire said.
“Iced tea okay?”
She nodded her assent and he disappeared into the kitchen. “From what Bo tells me so far you haven’t had much success in your investigation,” Jimmy said.
“We’ve really only just started,” she replied, refusing to be discouraged after a couple of days.
“I wish I could do something to help. Bo’s like a brother to me. Without his friendship and support I probably would have become a no-account nasty drunk just like my father.”
Claire smiled at him. “I had one of those, too. Although mine was a no-account absent father most of the time.” Bo returned with two glasses of iced tea. He handed her one and then sat on the opposite side of the sofa and placed his glass on the coffee table in front of them.
“Bo told me that your mother left town when you were young. Have you ever heard from her?” Jimmy asked.
“No, and at this point in my life I have no desire to hear from her. She made her choice to cut and run and leave me behind and apparently never looked back. She wasn’t there when I needed her and now I have no need of her. How’s business?” she asked, ready to get the topic of conversation off herself and a childhood she couldn’t change.
For the next few minutes Jimmy talked about the business that had once been Bo’s. He entertained with stories of picky customers and crazy drunks, making both Claire and Bo laugh.
It felt good to laugh and to hear Bo’s deep rumble of laughter. It felt good not to think about the investigation and everything she felt they still needed to do in order to accomplish their mission.
Bo was right. They’d needed a day off. He appeared more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. By one o’clock they had all moved into the kitchen for a late lunch. Jimmy insisted that she and Bo sit and leave the meal to him.
Within twenty minutes he served them hot ham and cheese sandwiches on toasted rye bread and French fries on the side. While they ate Jimmy continued to talk about the bar and grill and Claire found herself wondering if it bothered Bo that his best friend was now reaping the benefits of Bo’s defection from town.
After lunch Bo and Jimmy entertained her with stories of their childhood antics. They had tales of sneaking out of the house at midnight to go frog gigging in the swamp and running home after only a few minutes, scared of the dark and the fear of being eaten by gators.
There were stories of building a tent in the backyard and then accidently setting it on fire when they decided to roast marshmallows inside the tent.
After each and every story they argued about who had been the one who had come up with the ideas that had usually gotten them into trouble as Claire laughed at the easy banter between the two friends.
“What about you, Claire? Do you have close girlfriends who do lunch with you or go out for drinks and gossip together?” Jimmy asked.
“I have lots of friendly acquaintances but no close girlfriends,” she replied. She frowned thoughtfully, wondering why she had never encouraged any real solid friendships.
She knew that when she was young she’d never wanted anyone to know that she was basically living in a shanty that rarely had electricity on and no parental figure in the place.
“When I was young, I was afraid for anyone to find out that I was basically living alone. I was scared that social services would somehow find out and take me away,” she continued. “I guess as I got older that self-protectiveness stuck with me and I just never formed close relationships.”
“Then who do you talk to about your deepest, darkest secrets?” Bo asked.
She laughed. “I don’t have any deep, dark secrets. What you see is what you get.”
Bo’s gaze lingered on her, his eyes silently seeming to tell her that he definitely liked what he saw. Warmth leaped into her cheeks and she was grateful when Jimmy began talking once again.
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly with the conversation remaining light and easy. About four o’clock Jimmy excused himself to get ready for his night of work, leaving Claire and Bo alone on the sofa.
“Isn’t this better than being out in the heat and trying to talk to people who don’t particularly want to talk to us?” Bo asked.
“It has been a nice break,” she agreed. “But tomorrow I think I need to be boss again and we need to move forward in trying to find some answers.”
“I only get to be boss for a day?” he asked in amusement.
“What you should want now more than anything is something that will lead us to Shelly’s killer,” she replied.
He leaned toward her, the scent of him filling her head and stirring up a tension that was both slightly frightening and exhilarating.
“You know what I want more than anything at this moment?” His blue eyes simmered as they held her gaze hypnotically. “I want a repeat of our kiss last night. In fact, I want more than that. I want you in my bed making love with me.”
A soft gasp escaped her at the blatant sensuality of his gaze and the unfiltered words that filled her with an internal fire.
“Bo, we’re partners, not lovers.” She was appalled by the slightly breathless quiver in her voice.
“We could be both,” he replied.
“I don’t think that’s a line we should cross.” She knew her voice lacked conviction and she cursed herself for it.
“You’re the boss,” he replied and leaned back. “I just want you to know that if you change your mind, I’m open and interested.”
Thankfully at that moment Jimmy returned to the living room and halted any further conversation on that subject. It was only when Jim
my left that she grew a bit nervous about how the rest of the evening would unfold.
She needn’t have worried. Bo remained a perfect gentleman as they watched a movie together and then shared a pizza. Any talk of the investigation remained off-limits and instead they talked more about their pasts, talked about the changes that would occur in the town when the amusement park finally opened, and their favorite books and movies.
Before she knew it, dusk had fallen with night not too far behind. “I should head home,” she said. “And we should figure out what our plans are for tomorrow. No more days off.”
“But it has been nice, hasn’t it? To spend the day together and not think about who said what, when, and not think about what neighbor or friend might be a cold-blooded killer,” he replied.
“It has been nice,” she agreed. “Maybe tomorrow we need to just talk to everyone we run into who was about the same age as Shelly. Maybe she had a close friend you didn’t know about.”
Bo heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, boss. Why don’t you pick me up around ten?”
“Sounds good.” Claire got up from the sofa, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Bo followed just behind her. When she reached the door she didn’t turn to face him to say good-night. She knew instinctively he was too close behind her, that in turning to face him he might kiss her and she might kiss him back.
She opened the door and then the screen door and stepped out on his porch. Only then did she turn around and wave to him.
Once she was in her car and headed home she thought of last night when she’d told him she slept naked. What a stupid thing it had been for her to confess to a man who was obviously sexually attracted to her...a man she was sexually attracted to.
It was dark by the time she parked her car and went into the house. It was only when she set her purse on the table that she realized she hadn’t retrieved her mail since Bo had shown up in town.
She opened her front door and headed for the mailbox near the street. The black of night surrounded her, broken only by a neighbor’s porch light that shot a faint beam of illumination.
She reached the mailbox and was about to open it when she felt a sudden rush of air coming from behind her. Before she could turn, a plastic bag was yanked not only over her head, but down the length of her body to trap her arms against her sides, as well.
She screamed and kicked out with her legs. Disoriented and with her heart pounding in terror, her kicks didn’t connect with anything or anyone. She tore at the plastic around her with her fingernails, attempting to free her arms.
Panicked screams continued to tear from her throat, rising in volume when she was picked up by strong arms.
It was only then that her brain made the connection that she was being kidnapped and there was nobody around to save her.
*
CLAIRE HAD BEEN gone for about forty-five minutes when Bo’s cell phone rang. “It’s Eric Baptiste,” the caller’s deep voice boomed over the line. “You need to get to Claire’s.” Without offering any more information, Eric hung up.
Bo stood staring at his phone, wondering if this was some sort of a setup? A prank of some sort? Eric didn’t seem the type of man to pull a prank. His heart seemed to stop beating. Something had happened.
He grabbed his keys and within minutes was on his motorcycle speeding to Claire’s house, his brain whirling with suppositions. Had she hurt herself? Fallen down and broken a bone? Then why would Eric call him instead of calling for an ambulance?
He didn’t pay attention to the speed limit; he only knew he needed to get to Claire as quickly as possible. Why hadn’t she called him? What could have possibly happened to her in the past forty-five minutes?
He pulled up in front of her place and parked. Jumping off his bike, he noticed a torn black trash bag in her yard. What the hell?
Not pausing, he raced to Claire’s door. Eric answered the knock and the minute Bo stepped inside Claire flew into his arms. Bo automatically wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest. What in the hell had happened?
He looked at Eric quizzically, but the well-built, dark-eyed man shrugged and sat in the chair opposite the sofa. Apparently it was Claire’s story to tell.
At least physically she appeared to be fine, although obviously emotionally distraught. She had just begun to gain control and Bo had led her to the sofa where they sat down when a knock fell on the door and Sheriff Trey Walker and Deputy Ray McClure walked in, followed by Deputies Josh Griffin and Daniel Carson.
Trey looked at the three of them. “What happened?” He turned his attention to Eric. “You called about an attempted kidnapping?”
Bo’s insides shuddered and he tightened his arm around Claire. “What happened?” he asked Claire, repeating Trey’s words as Bo’s blood iced in his veins.
“I left your house and when I got home I realized I hadn’t checked my mail for a while.” Her voice trembled and her face was paper white. “When I got to the mailbox I sensed somebody behind me but before I could turn around he pulled a garbage bag over me.” Her eyes simmered with the terror she’d experienced. “I tried to fight, and I screamed over and over again, but he picked me up in his arms.”
“Griffin and Carson, check out the area and see if anyone saw anything,” Trey said.
“I was sitting on my porch and heard her screams,” Eric said as the two men left the house. “I yelled and ran down here, but by that time whoever it was had dropped her to the ground and disappeared into the darkness.”
“Eric ripped the bag off me and got me into the house and that’s when he called Bo and you,” she said to Trey.
“Did you get any idea of a description of the man?” Trey asked Eric.
Eric shook his head. “It was dark and he was dressed all in black. I only got a brief glimpse of him from the back.”
“Short...tall...build?” Trey asked.
Eric shrugged helplessly. “It was just too dark for me to get any idea of size or shape. He was just a black form running away.”
Trey focused back on Claire. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “I can’t tell you anything about him. I didn’t see him. He didn’t make a sound. I just know he was strong enough to pick me up like I weighed nothing.”
Bo listened and even though she was safe and right next to him, his blood refused to warm. There was no way to dismiss this attack on Claire as anything but an intentional act.
This forced him to believe that the speeding car that had nearly hit her hadn’t somehow been an attack on him, but on her.
“Can I go?” Eric asked. “I’ve told you everything I know.”
Trey hesitated a moment and then nodded. “We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions for you.”
Eric left the chair and headed out the door and Trey sat in the newly vacated seat. Ray stood just behind him and spoke for the first time.
“Maybe it would be best if you two weren’t spending so much time together,” he said. “It’s possible somebody is ticked off at you because you’re trying to help Bo.”
“Maybe it would be best if you’d do your job and find out who has tried to harm me twice now,” she retorted, her fear momentarily displaced by a flash of anger.
“We’re going to do everything we can to find this perp,” Trey assured her with a calm that bordered on patronizing. “And you have every right to fraternize with anyone you want in this town.”
“This certainly isn’t going to stop me from spending time with Bo,” she said and placed a hand on his thigh. It was then that Bo’s blood began to warm again.
“Has anyone threatened you? Shown anger toward you?” Trey asked.
“No, nothing like that, although I did have a note taped to my porch railing a couple of nights ago that said ‘stay away from Bo McBride.’”
Trey sat up straighter in the chair. “Do you still have the note?”
“No, I threw it away,” Claire replied. She frowned. “I sho
uld have brought the note to you the minute I found it, but I just figured it was harmless, somebody trying to warn me not to get involved in Bo’s issues.”
Trey rubbed his forehead as if weary. “I have to look at this as if there have been two attacks on you and we don’t have much to go on. We couldn’t even get a confirmation on the color of the car that tried to hit you and now I have no description of the person who attacked you tonight.”
“There is the garbage bag outside,” Bo said.
Trey nodded. “We’ll take it and see if we can pull some prints, but I’m not optimistic about it.” He looked back at Ray. “Go outside and bag and tag the evidence.” Ray immediately left to do his job.
Trey turned his attention back to Claire and Bo. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
Bo looked at Claire, glad to see that some of the fear had left her eyes and her cheeks had once again filled with natural color. “I can’t think of anything,” she replied.
By that time Griffin and Carson had returned, indicating that they’d found no witnesses and no sign of the attacker.
Trey stood. “I intend to focus this investigation on people who are particularly upset with Bo. I think it’s quite possible that your connection with him is the reason for these attacks. But if you think of anyone else who might have a reason to want to harm you for any reason, give me a call.”
“Trust me, you’ll be one of the first to know,” Claire replied.
Once everyone was gone, Claire leaned against Bo’s side and released a tremulous sigh. She didn’t speak, and in the silence Bo’s thoughts flew as he tried to figure out what should happen now.
The idea that he was responsible for any threat to Claire was unacceptable. From the moment they’d started spending time together he’d never considered the possibility that he was putting her at risk.
“What a night,” she finally said.
Bo tightened his arm around her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” The idea of anything bad happening to her caused a huge lump to form in his chest, making it impossible for him to speak for a moment.
Carla Cassidy Page 9