“You read those files you found at the studio. Do you think it’s possible?”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I don’t know. I had a plausible explanation for his death, so I focused on what those files might tell me about my mother. I could totally see David trying to uncover the truth for me. He was that kind of guy, so nice I can’t believe anyone would want to harm him.”
Isaac was feeling worse by the minute. What if he was wrong about David? He had no proof; he was the first to acknowledge that. And now, because of him, Claire had to deal with a very painful possibility, maybe for no reason at all. “I’m guessing it had nothing to do with want. Maybe he was getting close to information that was threatening someone. Maybe whoever it was felt forced.”
“But Les was from out of town.”
“A hired gun?”
She sagged against the door frame. “But…Weaver sent me money for the funeral expenses.”
“He’d be stupid not to make it look good.”
“Wouldn’t the sheriff’s department have checked him out?”
“They did, a little. They just didn’t dig deep. Think about it. Until last summer, when we had our first murder, nothing that violent had ever happened here. Other than your mother’s disappearance, which was an old mystery by the time Myles became sheriff, he hadn’t dealt with any crime more serious than a speeding ticket since he took over for Sheriff Meade. On top of that, he’d lost his wife to a protracted battle with cancer, was raising his daughter on his own and adjusting to being a single father. My guess? He was taking everything at face value, expecting this place to be as safe and uncomplicated as he’d been told. Plus, David was shot so long after Alana’s disappearance Myles might not have realized there could be a connection. For one thing, he doesn’t seem to be aware that David was looking into her case.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Rusty wasn’t even aware of it.”
She frowned. “Then who gave David a copy of those files?”
“I have no idea.”
Fresh resolve seemed to stiffen her spine. “If someone killed David, it has to be the same someone who kidnapped my mother.”
“If is the key word here. I could be way off base. That’s why I didn’t mention it to you before. Judging by what I got from those files, David wasn’t only determined to get to the truth, he was pressing people for answers, revealing inconsistencies in various interviews that suggested Alana didn’t leave on her own. Then everything came to a very convenient stop with his death. It seems too…coincidental, given his progress. But that’s all I’ve got to go on. You understand this is merely conjecture on my part, right?”
“Something connects the two. I—”
His phone interrupted her, and he leaned over to check caller ID. Restricted. “It’s Rusty again.” What were the chances it’d be anyone else?
She leaned against the wall as he answered.
“She’s there with you, isn’t she,” Rusty snapped.
He’d obviously been to Claire’s place—and concluded that she wasn’t home sleeping. “She who?”
“Quit playing games. You know who I mean. Are you filling her head with that bullshit about David being killed just so you can get close enough to get inside her pants?”
“I think you need to hang up, Rusty. What you’re asking doesn’t concern you.”
“David was one of my closest friends.”
“And that gives you first dibs on his widow?”
“He’d rather it was me than you!”
“How do you know? Did he come to you in a dream?”
“You bastard!”
“I’ve never liked you much, either,” he said and hung up.
Claire watched him set down the phone. “What was that all about?”
“You have a not-so-secret admirer.”
“Rusty knows I’m here?”
“I think he’s been over to your place a number of times tonight and realized you’re not there.”
She covered her face with the hand that wasn’t clutching the towel.
“Would you like me to take you home?” he asked.
“No, definitely not.” Dropping her hand, she looked up at him. “Especially if he’s going to be hanging around my house to see if and when I return.”
“I could tell him to leave you alone.”
“But I wouldn’t want to see what you might have to do to enforce it. And he’ll have to leave me alone if I stay here. So will Leanne. I just… I need some sleep.”
“Dry your hair,” he said. “You can have the bed.”
When she came back into the room she was wearing the T-shirt he’d given her when he provided the towels. He had no idea what she had on underneath, but he spent the next two hours on the couch wondering about it.
10
Claire woke to the smell of bacon and knew that Isaac was planning to force-feed her another meal. “Don’t make any for me,” she yelled. “I’m not hungry!”
He opened the door and stood there, freshly showered and holding a spatula. “In case you haven’t heard, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
He was being a smart-ass. She covered a yawn. “It hasn’t been that long since you fed me a steak.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “Don’t be rude to your host.”
“I have hair clients. I have to go.”
“The food will be done by the time you finish getting ready.”
“I don’t have anything to get ready with. I’m just going to pull on my clothes.”
“And then you’ll eat.”
“No, then I’ll leave.” She gave a cocky laugh as if she’d do exactly as she pleased and started to get out of bed, but she’d underestimated his determination. Hauling her over one shoulder, he carried her out of the bedroom.
“So you are wearing panties,” he muttered when the T-shirt floated up and he inadvertently touched her bottom.
“What does that have to do with anything?” she gasped.
“Everything.”
He was flirting with her, which was something she needed to ignore. He deposited her on a chair at the kitchen table. Then he pointed his spatula at her and ordered her to remain where she was.
“Here you go,” he said, delivering her plate.
She glared at the eggs, bacon and toast. “I should’ve gone home last night.”