Authors: Christine Rimmer
“
I still want to look.”
“
You’re wasting your time.”
“
It’s my time to waste.”
“
Claire...”
“
I’m going, Joe. Please come with me.”
He muttered something low and crude.
After that, there was a silence. They gauged each other. Both of them were naked, and neither of them cared. Claire thought how quickly she’d become accustomed to being naked around Joe. It seemed so right, so utterly natural.
They had come a long way with each other. In a strange way, her tragedy had bonded them. And now, her intention to help herself out of this trap she was in had made her stronger than she’d been in days. She felt that she was his equal again. She felt ready to do anything to learn more about what had really happened to Henson. It was a good feeling, and she was glad for it.
“
Damn,” Joe remarked.
“
Does that mean you’ll come with me?”
He released her hand, only to haul her against him and put his mouth on hers. He kissed her long and hard. And then, when she felt her bones going to butter, he released her.
“
All right,” he said. “Let’s get ready to go.”
Forty minutes later, Claire and Joe entered the bungalow where Alan Henson had been shot. Claire had a clipboard in one hand and a flashlight in the other. On the clipboard was the housekeeping list of everything that was supposed to be in the small cabin: from the few dishes and pans in the tiny kitchen, to the television and the toiletry supplies.
“
Okay, Sherlock, what now?” Joe asked wryly.
Claire shot him a narrow look—and then found herself staring at the rust-colored stain on the braided rug. It was a big stain; she couldn’t help picturing the unconscious Henson as she’d found him, lying there. It was not a pleasant memory.
“
Well?” Joe prompted.
‘ ‘
Now, I look at everything,” she said with more authority than she felt.
“
Everything.”
And that was exactly what she did.
She crept through the living room, bedroom, bathroom and efficiency kitchen at a snail’s pace, peering into every cupboard, feeling along every sill and crevice, shining her flashlight into corners and under furniture. She shook out the curtains and pulled the linens off the bed. She moved cushions and turned chairs upside down, beating at them in
hopes they would disgorge some small object that might provide a single clue.
She found a gouge in the wall where the bullet had likely hit after it went through Henson. Of course, the bullet wasn’t there. The sheriff’s office had that.
She discovered that one glass of the eight the motel provided was gone. She knew which glass it was: the one she had broken trying to get Henson to let go of her. But there wasn’t a glass shard in sight; she had no doubt that the bits of glass were in a bag down at the courthouse, marked as evidence against her.
Nothing else that belonged to Snow’s Inn was gone. Even the complimentary shampoo, half-used, was sitting on the edge of the tub in the bathroom.
All of Henson’s things had been removed, no doubt for his wife to collect from the courthouse at her leisure. Except for the bloodstain and the chip on the wall, there was nothing—nothing—that shouldn’t have been there.
As Joe had warned, the police had been thorough. If Henson’s attacker had left a cigarette in the ashtray or lost a button that rolled under the couch, the sheriff’s office had it now.
At a quarter to eleven, Claire finally gave up. She stood up from a last look under the couch, rubbed her back, and told Joe she’d seen enough.
He came to her and put his arms around her. She rested against him for a moment. Then she lifted her head for a quick kiss. “Okay. I give up. Let’s blow this joint.”
They locked up and went back to the office, where she told her mother to go ahead and have Verna clean the bungalow and throw the ruined rug away.
“
Then shall I go ahead and rent it to guests?” Ella asked.
“
No. Just lock it up. The floor has to be stripped and rewaxed.” Henson’s blood had seeped right through the rug and into the floor, but Claire decided not to go into detail
about that to her mother. “I’ll take care of it when I come back to work.”
“
Certainly, dear. I’ll do just as you say.” Her mother glanced from Claire to Joe and then back at Claire. “And I’m so glad you’re feeling better. You do look much more... relaxed, dear. I must say.”
“
I
am
more relaxed,” Claire said, thinking naughtily about just how relaxing being with Joe could be. Joe, over by the window, cleared his throat, and she knew it was a signal that she was looking downright dreamy-eyed. Swiftly she added, “Getting away to somewhere...neutral, like the ranch, has been a godsend. I really do feel a thousand times better than I did yesterday when we left.”
“
I’m so glad,” Ella beamed. “And I don’t want you to worry about a thing. Honestly. I am managing just fine here.”
“
I know you are, Mother. That’s why, if it’s okay with you, we’ve decided to take a trip to San Francisco tomorrow.”
Ella’s beaming face went slack. “What?”
Over by the window, Joe coughed again. Claire shot him a glance, and he gave her a warning frown. Claire smiled back sweetly. Of course, he was still hoping that between now and time to leave, he could convince her to give up on the trip.
Well, they were going. He could just get used to it. She would hold him to his word. And if he broke his word, she really would go alone.
“
We’re going to San Francisco,” she repeated, since her mother was still staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Just for a day or two. The ranch has been so good for me, I think an even more
total
change of scene will be even better.”
“
But, dear, I don’t think you can go that far away, can you?”
“
We’ll leave a number with you, of course. So if the sheriff’s office needs us, we’ll come right back home.” Claire waved a dismissing hand. “I’ll work all that out, Mother. Don’t worry. I just want to know if you can take care of things here.”
“
Well, of course I can. I planned to do just that, but I don’t understand—”
Claire cut her mother off with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I know I’ve said it before, but I am so grateful to you. We’ll call you with the number of our hotel, as soon as we have it. And I’m going to take my car, okay? I’ll leave you the motel van, in case you need it. Now, I just want to get a nice dinner dress from my room, and we’ll be on our way.”
Claire, behind the wheel of her car, followed Joe back to the ranch. He drove a little faster than necessary. Claire knew he was miffed because she’d one-upped him about San Francisco.
Well, she decided, he could just go ahead and be miffed. He
had
promised to take her, after all. So making plans with her mother had not been out of line in the least. He was only mad because he’d still intended to discourage her, and now he was less likely than ever to succeed.
They pulled in between the break in the fence, and Joe parked in front of the house. Claire stopped her car right behind him. She got out and went around to the back seat to get the dress she’d collected from her closet at the motel.
She heard Joe order the dogs away and then, from behind her, he demanded, “What the hell do you need with a fancy dress? It’s not going to be any party, it’s not going to be any damn fun at all.”
She brought out the dress she’d hung on the hook in the back seat, closed the door, and turned to face him.
Now that she was looking right at him, she had to admit he looked more than a little miffed. His eyes had that wolfish gleam. She was reminded—as she hadn’t been in days— of the dangerous side of him. Joe Tally was not a man to cross. But she kept her shoulders back and stared him square in the eye.
“
No, it’s not going to be a party,” she told him. “But my mother thinks it is.” She waved the dress under his nose. “I took this to allay her suspicions. If I went without something to wear to a nice restaurant, she would have been sure we were up to no good.”
He made a low noise in his throat, a scoffing sound. “Something to wear to a nice restaurant, huh?”
“
Yes.”
“
You’ve just got every damn thing under control, haven’t you?”
“
Joe, you agreed we could go tomorrow.”
He took the step that backed her up against the car. “You just don’t get it. You’ve got a few days to... take it easy. And then things could get pretty bad for you. What the hell do you want to go chasing all over creation for nothing for? I’ll do that. I’ll handle it. Just trust me, okay?”
“
I do trust you. I swear. But it’s my life, Joe. My freedom, and my good name. I have to do what I can. Please. Try to understand.”
“
No. You understand.” His eyes were hot with frustration. He took her by the upper arms, hurting her a little. Her pretty dressed was wrinkled between them as he spoke right into her upturned face. “If you go, you’re disobeying Judge Willoughby’s direct orders. Also, chances are ninety-nine to one that we’ll get nowhere with anyone on that list. For me, that’s okay. I’ll take it one step at a time, and I’ll find out what I can and go on from there. But you’re pinning your hopes on it, I can tell. And when we’re through trying to talk
to those people, you’ll feel worse than you did when you found out you could end up on trial for criminal assault.”
“
No,” she said firmly. “I won’t feel worse. Even if nothing comes of it, at least I’ll know I did everything I could. I’ll know I didn’t just sit here, waiting for the ax to fall. Now, please let go of me, Joe. You’re hurting my arms.”
He released her immediately, and stepped back. Then he swore under his breath. And he turned and strode into the house.
Fifteen minutes later, Claire was in the kitchen making sandwiches for a lunch she hoped she could convince Joe to share with her, when he came up behind her.
“
Claire?”
She stopped in mid-motion, still clutching a half-open loaf of bread, as he tenderly brushed her hair aside and placed his lips on the nape of her neck. His hands strayed to her shoulders. He rubbed them a little, and then he massaged her arms, too, as if to banish any discomfort he’d caused earlier when he’d clutched them so hard.
Then he reached over her and gently took the loaf of bread from her hands. He turned her to face him, tipping her chin up with a coaxing finger to get her to look in his eyes.
“
Sorry,” he said.
“
It’s okay.”
He dragged in a long breath. “Well, at least you know exactly how I feel about this trip.”
“
Do I ever.”
“
Sure you won’t change your mind?”
Claire bit her lip and shook her head.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Her heart lifted a little. “Okay, what?”
“
Okay, then I think we should go ahead and leave today. We’ll get into San Francisco and get settled by this evening, and we might even be able to get started on the list tonight.”
Claire looked at him, wary yet still hopeful. “You mean it? We’re leaving today?”
“
Yeah. As soon as we pack and call your mom.”
Joe knew of a nice hotel near Union Square and called to reserve them two adjoining rooms for that night and the next. Claire clucked at the extra expense; they would end up only using one room. But Joe seemed determined to protect Ella from the knowledge that bad Joe Tally and her daughter were much more than friends.
As soon as their rooms were reserved, Claire called Ella and told her they were leaving a little earlier than originally planned. Ella still didn’t really understand why they were going, but she seemed to have decided that she trusted Joe. After a brief exchange, she took the phone number of the hotel and told her daughter to “Have a lovely time. Everything will be just fine here.”
Next, Joe called a neighbor who lived on twenty acres adjoining the ranch and asked if he would feed Demon and the dogs for a few days. The neighbor said he’d be glad to.
“
Okay, then,” Claire said when he’d hung up. “Let’s get going.”
“
Your eyes are shining.” He shook his head. “Such a pity you’re so damned naive.”
He was sitting on the edge of the bed. She bent down and kissed him. “Don’t bet on it.”
He grabbed her arm and gave a tug. She landed neatly on his lap. “You are. A total innocent.”
She glanced heavenward. “Haven’t we had this argument before?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. And you lost.”
“
I did not. We... reached no conclusion.”