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“No, I don’t,” Claire said, and fled the house before the tears welling in her eyes could roll down her cheeks.

But she couldn’t lie to herself quite so easily. Maybe she didn’t
want
to believe April had hacked into Roni’s computer and read such damning correspondence. But if what she said
wasn’t
true, how did she know Tug was sterile?

This time he was going to turn her away. No matter what.

Yesterday when he left her salon, Isaac had made the decision not to have any more contact with Claire. Her problems weren’t his problems. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been getting so involved. After a random two-day photo shoot in the mountains, he’d come home determined to avoid the emotions she evoked in him, which he could only do by avoiding
her.

But an hour after he walked through the door, she stood on his stoop with tears streaking her face, looking as if her world had just come to an end. He wanted to ask what was wrong, what had happened. He could tell it was something significant. But he couldn’t allow himself to be drawn in again. He was done hanging on, regretting, hoping, craving.

“I found the money under the mat. There was no need to return it. I got the haircut. But thank you,” he said, and closed the door.

He hadn’t given her the chance to say a word. Part of him hoped he’d made her mad enough to knock again. Shouting at each other would be better than this oppressive silence. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t make a second attempt. He heard nothing until her car started. Then a new wave of regret washed over him, and it was all he could do not to fly out of the cabin and flag her down.

He would have, if he’d thought it would help either one of them.

But it wouldn’t. He had to be more realistic about his own shortcomings. If sex was all there was to a relationship, he could give her that. He’d done it before. But not love. He didn’t know how to give love, or be loved. His own mother hadn’t even been able to love him.

He let his breath seep out as the sound of her engine dimmed. The temptation was over. She was gone.

But no sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he grabbed his keys and went after her.

As much as he’d tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself he didn’t care, he did. He had to know why she’d been crying.

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16

“W
here were you Thursday night?”

Claire was cutting Carrie Oldman, one of the eight women in her book group. She’d already received a message from Carrie, as well as Laurel and one other friend, wondering why she didn’t show, but she’d been too caught up in everything else to respond. “Um, I was…not feeling well,” she finished lamely. Even if she was sick, it would be unusual for her not to call. Rarely did anyone miss their meetings. But that was the best answer she could conjure up on the spot.

Carrie frowned into the mirror. “Are you better now?”

“I’m not contagious, if that’s what you mean. Why?”

“You seem…a little out of it.”

Claire kept her attention on the short bob she was creating out of Carrie’s long, straight hair. With all the thinning and breaking as Carrie aged, she definitely needed a change. But it’d taken a year to talk her into this new style. And she’d chosen today of all days to go for it.

“I haven’t been getting much sleep,” Claire said. But that wasn’t everything. It was what April had said during their discussion yesterday that weighed so heavily on her:
You mean the part about Tug being infertile? You didn’t know?

The drape rustled as Carrie brought her hand out to scratch her nose. “I’m really worried about you. We all are. You know that, don’t you? Once it was obvious that you weren’t going to come, Laurel hardly said a word the rest of the night.”

Claire would be able to reassure Laurel tonight. They had that date, which she didn’t want to go on. “I’m fine. Really. You guys need to quit worrying.”

Carrie’s hand came out again, this time to loosen the fastening of the drape. “You were just a little sick? That’s all it was?”

“That’s right.”

She looked slightly hurt. “But we called, and when you didn’t answer, a couple of us came by. You weren’t home.”

Claire hurried to shore up the lie. “I must’ve walked over to Leanne’s.”

“Your car was gone, so we knocked at Leanne’s door. She said she hadn’t seen you.”

“I guess I saw her later, after I got back.” Claire gave a laugh she hoped didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. She really didn’t want her association with Isaac to get out. She had to come to terms with too many other things first. “I drove over to my parents’. You know how it is when you feel sick. Sometimes you want someone else to take care of you.”

Uncertainty flickered in Carrie’s eyes. “Oh, you were at Tug and Roni’s.”

She hoped they hadn’t checked there, too. Claire wouldn’t put it past them. She loved every member, but a few of them didn’t know how to mind their own business. Of course, the same could be said about most people in Pineview. “For a while.”

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Yesterday? Nothing. Why?”

“Ellie saw your car at April’s house.”

Her heart began to thump but Claire kept cutting.

“We didn’t think you and April were friends,” Carrie added. She had a sweet way about her, but she was better at wheedling information out of a person than almost anyone else in town.

“We’ve never had a disagreement,” Claire said.

“So…you
were
there? You went to
April’s?
”

Shit…
Sometimes her hometown drove her crazy. “Roni had a photo of April’s nephew she wanted me to drop off.” Maybe if Carrie thought Roni already knew about the visit, had even requested it, there’d be nothing scandalous to report. Claire preferred to keep that visit, and what she’d learned, to herself until she figured out who and what to believe.

Seemingly satisfied, Carrie’s piqued expression cleared. “I get it. Of course she wouldn’t want to deliver it herself. They’re still not speaking.”

“I’m not sure they ever will.” Considering what April thought, Claire doubted it…?.

Carrie lowered her voice. “April thinks Roni caused her father’s death. Divorces are difficult, but suicide…that’s an individual choice.”

Perhaps. But Roni could be more culpable than she let on—for April’s father’s suicide
and
Alana’s disappearance, not that Claire wanted to accept that. She had too many positive memories of her stepmother taking her back-to-school shopping or planning her birthday parties or snapping pictures of her in her prom dress.

Instead of answering, Claire pretended complete absorption while measuring the hair on either side of Carrie’s face. “Looks straight,” she murmured, and backed away. “How do you like it?”

Carrie’s smile was more hesitant than Claire would’ve liked. “It’s…going to take some getting used to.”

She looked darling, much better than when she’d walked in, but familiarity counted for a lot. Claire just hoped Carrie did get used to the change, and that her ultraconservative husband would react favorably. She couldn’t deal with a disgruntled client today, not one who was disgruntled over an
improvement.
“I think the new look takes five years off your age.”

She perked up. “Really?”

“Definitely.”

The bell jingled over the door. As Claire removed Carrie’s drape, she turned to welcome her next client, but it was her sister.

“Where’d you go last night?” Leanne demanded without the courtesy of a greeting. Obviously, she was still angry.

A trickle of unease went through Claire. She didn’t want another confrontation with her sister, especially with Carrie listening in. If her parents or David’s parents learned she was seeing Isaac, they wouldn’t be happy. They’d remind her of what happened last time and she’d probably end up in another argument with them. “Funny you should ask. Give me a minute so we don’t hold Carrie up,” she said, and turned back to her client. “That’s twenty-five dollars, as always.”

Leanne’s displeasure hung over the room like an over-cast sky. No doubt Carrie could sense it. She kept glancing at Lee as she wrote her check. “Here you go.” She seemed about to linger, no doubt hoping to hear their conversation. But Claire walked her to the door.

“It was great to see you, Car. Sorry I missed book group but I’ll be there next week.”

Carrie’s eyes darted back to Leanne. “You should come, too, Lee. This week we’re reading
Room
by Emma Donoghue. It’s a really intriguing story.”

“I have no interest in books.” Leanne said it as if she had no interest in the group, either, which she didn’t. Claire had invited her before. She said she’d have plenty of time for book groups when she was old and couldn’t do anything more “fun.”

Perhaps some of the members weren’t the most interesting people in town—a few were downright stuffy—but reading helped Claire keep her mind off David, and knowing she had a deadline made her more focused on getting through each book. Without that, she’d lie in front of the TV every night missing her husband, something she did far too often as it was.

“Thanks again.” Claire held the door.

Since she was cornered into leaving, Carrie finally nodded. “See you Thursday.”

Claire breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut. “I’m expecting another client,” she said. “So if you’ve come to start an argument, I’d appreciate it if you waited until I’m off. You might get your workshop all to yourself every day, but I have to maintain a professional atmosphere.”

Leanne maneuvered the chair to face her. “Quit trying to delay this. No one’s here now, and it won’t take you more than a second to explain why you never came home last night—again.”

“If what you do is none of my business, then what I do is none of yours, right?”

This wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she found words. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“That’s all.” If she didn’t offer a lie, Leanne couldn’t catch her in it later.

Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “Are you seeing someone, Claire?”

“No. Stop it.”

“You are, aren’t you? It’s Isaac Morgan! You’ve gone back to him.”

Claire wasn’t surprised she’d guessed, not when she’d seen his truck in front of her place twice—and it had stayed there all night one of those times. But it was important to downplay her and Isaac’s relationship, or the whole town would start buzzing with the news that David’s widow was having sex with her former lover.

“He’s a friend. That’s all.”

“A friend who spends the night with you?”

Denying it wasn’t going to work. Even if she could convince Leanne, Leanne wasn’t the only one who knew they’d been together. Rusty did, too. And other people might have seen her get into Isaac’s truck when he picked her up on the street. Isaac wasn’t the boy next door; he had a reputation. No one would believe they were hanging out together as mere friends.

Which left Claire one option—to confront all questions with absolute transparency. If she admitted to a romantic involvement, there’d be less for the curious to ferret out and, she hoped, the scandal would blow over more quickly.

“Yes, actually. Friends with benefits,” she said. “You’ve heard of that, right?” Of course she had, but Claire didn’t want her to think she was trying to get away with less than the truth.

“Everyone’s heard of that, except maybe the ladies you see on Thursday nights. Some of them grew up in the Big Band Era. So you’re not really…
dating.
”

“Nope. Just sleeping together.” And their encounters generally included some force-feeding, but no one would care about that. It wasn’t sensational enough. “Does that answer your question?”

Leanne gaped at her. “Do you realize who he is, Claire?”

“I know he’s amazing in bed. That’s all that matters at the moment.”

“But just a couple nights ago you were warning
me
not to ruin my reputation. Now you’re going to sew a giant
F
on your chest? Be the talk of the town? Even when Isaac tries to be discreet, people pay too much attention to him. He’s a celebrity around here, for crying out loud.”

Claire angled her chin in a belligerent fashion. “You said you don’t mind gossip. Maybe I decided to take a page from
your
book.”

They glared at each other—until Leanne broke the silence.

“Claire, listen. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so close to the edge. I know what happened with Mom really did a number on you, but you’ve always been strong. I guess…I guess I figured you could move on if I could. Losing her wasn’t easy on me, either. But…I feel responsible for this, as if I pushed you into his arms. We haven’t been getting along and that hasn’t left you with anyone you can really talk to. But I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Claire didn’t want to hear this. She bent over her desk to count the number of clients remaining on the schedule. Already dead on her feet, she wished she could just crawl into bed.

Fortunately, her workday ended at four, only two hours away. Maybe she’d have time for a nap before the big date. “Come on, you’re overreacting. What do you think he’s going to do to me?”

What he’d done to her before, of course. At least Leanne wasn’t asking about April. The book group ladies must not have mentioned seeing her car there when they went to Leanne’s house. It could get back to her eventually, but it wasn’t now and that was a small blessing. Maybe with such big news as her involvement with Isaac hitting the gossip scene, that tidbit would fall by the wayside completely.

One could hope. She’d didn’t want to hurt Roni.

“You’re kidding!” Leanne said. “Isaac Morgan’s a bona fide heartbreaker, and no one knows that better than you. And now you’re on the rebound. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

God, even her hard-drinking sister could plainly see what was in store. Still, Claire wouldn’t acknowledge the danger. If she did pay a price for her actions, she’d suffer without letting anyone know, unless, of course, that price included pregnancy. But she’d deal with that if she had to. “I won’t get hurt. He’s just a friend, a way to break up the monotony.”

Leanne slid her tongue over her teeth. “He’s got to be more fun than that geriatric book group you’ve got going.”

“Those ladies aren’t geriatric.”

“Half of them are over seventy.”

“So? They’re nice.”

“I’m not talking about
nice.
I’m saying they can’t give you the same kind of thrill.”

“No woman can.”

“Not very many men, either,” she said with a conspirator’s laugh.

Claire didn’t find that comment funny. The appreciation in her sister’s voice jammed a shard of fear into her chest. “Wait a second.
You’ve
never been with him, have you?” The question alone made it difficult to breathe.
Say no. Please say no, or I’m going to be sick right here…
?. She’d heard the vehicles that sometimes came and went in the night, but she usually didn’t get up to see who was driving. She didn’t want to know. Not knowing made it easier to pretend Leanne didn’t entertain as often as she did.

Her sister winked at her. “I’m not the type to kiss and tell.”

There was no time to push for more. Selina Spangler had walked in for her cut and color.

Myles King got up and closed the door to his office almost as soon as Isaac arrived. “I’m glad you came by. Rusty Clegg asked me to have a word with you.”

Isaac removed his sunglasses. The drive to Libby took thirty minutes, and the sun seemed especially bright today. “Rusty already told me to back off, if that’s what you’re intending to do.”

“Rusty was upset by your conversation, which is why he asked me to intervene. David meant a lot to him.”

“David meant a lot to many people. That’s one of the reasons I believe you owe it to Pineview to confirm that he died the way we think he did.”

Myles didn’t take even a second to respond. “I’m not sure I’ll like what you have to say any more than Rusty did.”

Great, not only had he been tipped off, he’d been prejudiced. Refusing to let that upset him, Isaac took the seat across from Myles. If he was going to get anywhere with Les Weaver, he needed the sheriff’s help. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “Murder one is a serious accusation.”

“Not only that but I don’t want to get the whole community up in arms until I have proof. David’s parents have been through enough, losing him the way they did, and at such a young age. Claire has been through enough, too. She still hasn’t recovered. All you have to do is look at her to know that.”