Read In Close Online

Authors: Brenda Novak

In Close (12 page)

Claire’s mouth went dry. “Is that a yes?”

Shading his eyes from the sun, he looked across at his neighbor. “What’d Carly have to say?”

“I’ll tell you if you invite me in.”

His forehead creased as he cursed. “No. I don’t want her or anyone else to see us talking. Meet me at my brother’s place in fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t know where he lives.”

After some quick directions, he went inside and slammed the door, but she didn’t care. He’d finally agreed to talk to her—after fifteen years.

Hope made her steps light as she returned to her car and started the engine. She was so sure that having Joe’s cooperation would make a difference, she even managed a smile and a wave for Carly.

But once she got to Peter’s house, she realized just how remote it was and began to grow uneasy. She’d kept on driving, hoping he lived in a cluster of houses as was so often the case in Pineview, but the house she came upon was the only one in the area.

Joe hadn’t invited her to the back of beyond as some kind of a trap, had he?

She pulled in behind Peter’s truck, which was parked in the drive. He was home, but that didn’t make her feel a whole lot better. Not long ago she’d seen a horrifying forensics program about
four
brothers who’d beaten a man to death and supposedly fed his body to their hogs…?.

Thick as thieves…
The words her friends had used to describe Joe and Peter ran through her mind as she gazed out at Peter’s small cabin. Could both brothers have been party to whatever happened to her mother?

Claire couldn’t believe that. Peter wouldn’t have said he thought Joe was having an affair with Alana if he’d helped murder her. Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he’d opened his mouth before learning that his brother was responsible.

She was letting her imagination run away with her. But she didn’t have a cell phone since there was no service. And now that she’d seen this isolated setting, showing up here seemed an unnecessary risk. No one even knew where she was.

Planning to leave while she still could, she put the transmission in Reverse, but she had nowhere to go. Joe had arrived and parked behind her, effectively trapping her car. She saw his grille in her rearview mirror just as she was about to back out and had to stomp on the brake.

“Shit!” she breathed, her mind racing as he got out.

He came toward her wearing a dark scowl and paused near her door with his hands on his hips as if he expected her to get out and go inside with him.

Eyes gravitating to his work boots—they looked just like the pair she’d seen on the man who’d followed her to the cabin—her pulse leaped.

What was she going to do?

Peter came out, distracting them both. He exchanged a few words with Joe that culminated in angry voices and plenty of cursing, which got louder, making it easy to hear what they were saying.

“It’s your fault,” Joe responded. “You’re the one who told everyone Alana and I were having an affair.”

“That’s before I knew it could get you—” Peter glanced in her direction and stopped. “Shit, Joe. This is screwed up, man. I don’t want to be dragged into this. I’m the one who told you to stay away from Alana in the first place. What if the cops—”

Claire screamed as Joe slammed a fist down on the hood of her car. “I don’t care. This won’t go away! Let’s take her inside and get it over with. Otherwise, she’ll head back to town and go straight to the sheriff.” Get
what
over with? Claire had heard enough. She put her car in Drive but there was no more room to go forward than there was to go back. She could only remain in her locked car.

But that was hardly safe. If they really wanted to get to her, all they had to do was break a window.

Joe was already knocking on the glass. Peter had walked across the lawn and was on the passenger side. Their vehicles penned her in front and back, and the two men penned her in on the left and right.

Leaning on the roof of her car with both hands, Peter shook his head as Joe yelled for her to get out.

“No!” she called back. “Let me go!”

“You can’t let her drive away now,” Peter warned. “Man, this was such a mistake! What were you thinking, bringing her up here?”

“Shut up!” Joe knocked harder. “Claire, get out. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

“What is it you want?”

“I have something to show you. It might tell you what happened to your mother.”

Or he was lying, the information he claimed to possess simply an incentive to lure her inside.

“What did you do to her?” she yelled. “
Why
did you do it?”

“I didn’t do anything! Would you quit freaking out? I’m trying to help you!”

“Then why did you follow me to her studio?”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Did you trash my house?”

“No!”

“How’d you hear about it?”

“You’re kidding, right? There are no secrets in Pineview.”

Except the one she’d been chasing for fifteen years.

“Just get out and come inside with us, and I’ll tell you what I know. That way, maybe we can put a stop to what’s going on.”

She didn’t trust him. She started her car, determined to crash into both vehicles if necessary in order to create enough space to get her Camaro out from between them, but she didn’t have the chance.

Peter picked up a rock and bashed in the passenger’s-side window just as her car jumped forward and struck his bumper. The impact threw her back against the seat, but she reached for the gearshift, planning to reverse and punch the gas again when Peter climbed in through the passenger side and held her hand in place so she couldn’t.

A second later, Joe dragged her from the car.

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25

“A
t least they took out our stitches while we were at the hospital,” Isaac said.

Claire slid her hand up his naked torso and pressed her lips to the steady beat at his throat. They were in bed at a motel in Kalispell, where they’d been for more than twenty-four hours. Isaac had insisted they not return to Pineview, said he wanted to get some sleep where he knew they’d be safe. He’d even parked his truck in the back, so it couldn’t be seen from the street.

“That’s not much consolation,” she said. “Your house is destroyed. All your furniture, all your clothes. We don’t even know how much of the forest went up.”

“Last I heard they were getting it under control.” He concealed a yawn, but it didn’t come off as indifferent or uncaring. They were both groggy after a week of such intense emotion and so much loss. If Isaac was like her, he was just glad to feel safe for the moment. “It didn’t reach your mother’s studio,” he added, “so it could’ve been worse.”

“It took
your
house. That’s bad enough.”

“I’m not thrilled about losing everything. I’m even less thrilled about being displaced.” He adjusted the bedding so he could pull her against him. “But we’re alive, right?”

She laughed as he rubbed his cheek with its new beard growth against her neck. “Right.”

He raised his head. “And everything was insured. My camera, my lenses…”

“What about the things money can’t buy?” she asked, threading her fingers through his hair. “All your footage, the DVDs and negatives, your notes—”

“The really important stuff’s in a safe. Provided that safe is as fireproof as I was told when I bought it, I’ll be fine. And I managed to save my computer, which has my latest projects on the hard drive—”

“You saved it at the risk of your life.” She scowled to show her disapproval. “And it still makes me mad. You have no idea how long those few seconds were when you didn’t come out.”

He grinned as he tweaked her chin. “I still don’t know what you thought you were doing trying to get back inside.”

“I wasn’t trying to get inside. It just looked that way.”

One palm cupped her breast as he leaned up on his elbow. “Tell the truth. You were coming back for me.”

She gave him a saucy look. “No, I wanted to save that hippo print you said I could have.”

He pecked her lips. “We’ll get a new one printed.”

“You’re lucky your wallet was in the pocket of the jeans you pulled on,” she mused. “Or you’d be depending on me for
everything.
” She sort of liked that idea, at least as a temporary arrangement, but she knew he wouldn’t.

“See?” he responded. “There’s a lot to be grateful for.”

She smiled at the way his hair stood up. They’d been sleeping for hours, had made love and then slept some more. She wasn’t even aware of the time, didn’t care how late it was. She was sure everybody in Pineview had heard about the fire, doubted anyone would expect her to be at the salon, including those who had an appointment. But she’d called Leanne and asked her to post a sign, just in case. “You’re really okay with letting the rest go?”

“Like I said, it can all be replaced—except the picture of my mother. With some effort and money, I might be able to get a duplicate, but I doubt I’ll try.”

She smoothed the hair out of his eyes. “You had a picture of her?” Claire wished she’d seen it. Because he had no family, no roots, he was used to flying solo, which made it hard to become an integral part of his life. “That’s not an easy thing to lose.”

He ran his finger down her cheek. “It was a mug shot, so probably nothing I’d frame, anyway.”

A mug shot. Claire had always known there was something wrong with his mother. “Tell me about her.”

That muscle jumped in his cheek, letting her know he was as sensitive about the subject as ever, but at least he answered. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Who was she?”

He shifted onto his back. “Her name was Bailey Rawlings.”

“And she was—” she snuggled close, resting her head on his shoulder “—a counterfeiter?”

“Nothing quite so glamorous.” She could hear the dry note in his response to her teasing.

“A bank robber?”

“Far too creative. She was a hooker. And a drug addict.”

Claire leaned up to look into his face. “Well, there you have it.”

His lips pursed. “Have what?”

“Only something as powerful as drug addiction could make her do what she did.”

“That’s how you see it?”

“That’s how I see it.”

“You don’t think that’s too forgiving?”

The dry note was back. The anger he’d felt growing up had slipped deeper and deeper below the surface, but it was still there. “Forgiving her is the only way you’ll be able to move on.”

He studied her for several seconds, touched the end of her nose. “Does that go for you, too? If your stepfather killed your mother, will you be able to forgive him?”

She’d been thinking about Tug a lot—as they spoke to the police, as they drove to the hospital, as they waited for the doctor, as they checked into the motel and drifted in and out of sleep—and she kept coming to the same conclusion. “He didn’t kill her.”

Isaac adjusted his pillow. “Claire, I think you need to be prepared for the fact that he might’ve done just that. All the signs point to him. She was cheating. She’d inherited a lot of money, and he’d get to keep it. He loved her daughters and couldn’t bear the thought of losing them.”

“But whoever killed my mother also killed David. Tug wouldn’t do that. He—he couldn’t have lived
that
big a lie. I would’ve known it. Intuitively, if in no other way.”

“Come on,” Isaac said gently. “People surprise their loved ones all the time. He could do anything if he was afraid he might be exposed. My mother’s drug addiction was powerful enough to make her abandon her five-year-old. Fear of life in prison could certainly motivate Tug to resort to murder. Whoever’s behind David’s death must’ve had a chunk of change, and your father fits the bill there, too. Contract killing isn’t cheap. It’s not as if Les is some hood who’d do it for fifty bucks.”

“But that means he’s also the one who tried to barbecue us the night before last!”

“Not necessarily. Les Weaver could’ve been acting alone on that one. He’s tied into this now, too. If he’s ever caught, his own life could be on the line. We live in a capital punishment state.”

“What about Roni?”

“We’re back to the evil stepmother being behind it all?”

“She’s not evil. I mean, I’ve never viewed her that way.” But it was true that Claire had a stronger bond with Tug and that his betrayal would hurt far more, because she’d actually trusted him as much as a girl could trust a father. She’d always been a little leery of Roni because, as good as she’d been, she could never compare to Alana. “I’m just saying she had as much to gain as Tug. And now she has as much to lose.”

“You talked to Myles. He couldn’t confirm that April ever came forward with her story.”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t. Myles didn’t even live in Pineview back then. It was Sheriff Meade she spoke to.”

“Then why isn’t it in the files?”

“Because he either didn’t believe her or—” she cleared her throat “—Roni paid him off.”

Isaac seemed skeptical. “So now we’re talking police corruption on top of everything else?”

“Not corruption, exactly. Just a favor for a friend he didn’t believe was guilty. Maybe he got rid of his notes because he thought April was an angry teen out to malign an upstanding citizen.”

“And in return Roni made a large contribution to his reelection campaign?”

“If you think things like that don’t happen here, you’re naive.”

“I know they happen. I just don’t think you should rely on April’s story without any evidence to back it up.”

Claire frowned. “Okay, then, what about Joe as a suspect? Maybe my mother tried to break up with him and he wouldn’t hear of it. They got into a huge fight that sort of…escalated, and he went too far.” She could easily imagine her sister’s claims that Joe had exposed himself as grounds for an argument. He might’ve killed Alana so she didn’t label him as a pedophile, which could’ve ruined his business as well as his marriage and resulted in his own girls being taken away from him.

“You don’t believe he spent all that time digging in the forest because he’s worried about you, like he said?”

“By admitting the affair, he could be hoping to cast more blame on Tug. Maybe he was afraid we were getting too close to the truth.”

“Or that could be the very reason he didn’t come forward at the time.”

“It wasn’t until he saw me talking to Carly Ortega across the street that he changed his mind. Could be he was nervous about what she was saying to me and it convinced him that he had to handle the situation differently this time around.”

Isaac made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know…?.”

Because he wasn’t aware of Leanne’s part in what took place, and she couldn’t tell him without betraying her sister. But…the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. Joe had acted strange in the past. He hadn’t even acted all that normal at Peter’s. They weren’t about to let her go until she saw what they wanted to show her. That had spooked her pretty badly. What would’ve happened if she’d acted skeptical instead of devastated by the knowledge that her mother had been unfaithful? Would she still be walking around today?

“His brother definitely didn’t like that he was including me. He kept saying it was a risk. Like you said, he could’ve meant that more literally than I took it. Maybe Joe was making a last-ditch effort to throw us offtrack.”

“And here we’d decided he’s so noble.”

She nodded. This theory also offered an alternative explanation as to why he’d been so “kind” about keeping what Leanne had done to himself.

“Remember the inconsistencies David listed in the files?” Isaac asked.

Claire assumed he was about to bring up Leanne’s absence from school. But he didn’t. He’d never said much about it, probably because of what she’d already admitted to him. And Leanne was so young at the time he couldn’t see her playing any meaningful role in the mystery.

“He mentioned Joe’s lack of an alibi,” he said.

He was talking about David. “See? Joe had opportunity. And he was working very close to our house that day.”

Isaac rubbed his hands over his face. “I think it’s time to call my P.I. to see what she’s been able to uncover on Les Weaver. Hopefully, she’ll have details that’ll help.”

“You’re already expecting results? Have you given her enough time?”

“The way things are going, there might not be anything left of Pineview if she doesn’t come up with answers soon.”

Claire wanted to laugh, but it really wasn’t funny. Her house had been trashed, many of her personal mementos destroyed. His had been burned to the ground. She was estranged from every member of her family and was losing money every day she didn’t work.

Isaac was right. What would be left when this was all over?

With Claire out of town since the fire, Jeremy didn’t know what to do with himself. So many things were changing. He didn’t like it; it frightened him, made him jumpy.

Usually after work he headed over to River Dell. These days, no one used the old park at the end of Claire’s cul de sac. If he went in the back way, he could hide his car in the trees on the far side and walk along the bank of the creek until he reached her place. Because she didn’t expect anyone to be looking in, and there were no roads with any traffic, she rarely bothered with blinds, except in her bedroom. She pulled those down every night, but he often got to see her finish work at the salon, eat, watch TV, maybe visit with her sister. Sometimes he even followed her to Laurel’s or to the book group.

He’d gone to her place as soon as he left Hank’s yesterday and today, but both times he’d found her house locked up and empty. He wasn’t sure when she might return. The firefighters had finally put out the forest fire; it’d taken them most of two days. But Isaac wasn’t around, either. Claire had to be with him.

If she was with me, I’d never bring her back. It’s too dangerous here.

He drove through town a couple of times, then stopped at the store to spend the change someone had left on one of the tables he’d bussed at Hank’s. Fortunately, he wasn’t hungry because he didn’t have much money and there wasn’t any food at home. He’d been smart enough to have a burger for dinner, even though it was only four o’clock when he finished work.

He could afford a candy bar, but after he ate it he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Tuesday afternoons weren’t all that eventful in Pineview. Add to that the fire, and how worried everyone had been about it spreading—and the whole town was tired. Everyone seemed happy to go straight home, although it wouldn’t be dark for four and a half hours.

Jeremy put on his brakes as he passed the Kicking Horse. There were a few cars in the lot. He could always come back later. Maybe things would pick up. But it wasn’t a place he usually went. He’d avoided it in the past because he hadn’t wanted to run into his father. He avoided it today because he didn’t want to run into his father’s friends.

That left him with no distractions. And he was running low on gas. Time to head home whether he wanted to or not.

“Hi, Dad,” he called as he walked in. His father couldn’t answer, but playing this game had worked last night. It felt better to pretend. Pretending meant he could be nice and his father would be nice in return. It also meant he didn’t have to face what had really happened.

He kept that up for an hour or so, told his father all about his day and Claire being gone and the fire getting put out, but eventually he ended up pacing outside the door to the crawl space. He needed to go under there to make sure he’d done a good job burying the body. He’d tried to check last night, but it’d been too soon. He’d merely stood by the door and cried.

It was still too soon, but he couldn’t let it go any longer. He also wanted to check that he hadn’t left anything behind. His father used to say he’d forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his body.

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