CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TUCKER LEANED against Claire’s car and watched Claire, Judy Johnson and Lucy Groves walk out of the concession stand toward the parking lot. His heart sped up as Claire smiled at something Judy said, then turned to Lucy and laughed.

“Down, boy,” he murmured to himself. But he tensed in anticipation as she said goodbye to the other women and headed toward him.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said, stopping a careful distance from him. “I think I’m safe in the high school parking lot of a small town like Monroe.”

“You never know.” He moved toward her. “Someone thinking wicked thoughts could be waiting for you.”

“Really?” she said, her voice light. “In Monroe?” Excitement leaped in her eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe the wicked thoughts in the air tonight,” he said, heat rushing through his veins. He reached out and drew her close, wedging her against him, hip to chest.

She looked up at him, her green eyes dark. “Try me,” she whispered.

The urgent drumbeat of desire pulsed through him as he bent his head. When he kissed her, she clung to him and kissed him back, opening her mouth to him. Need obliterated common sense. Crowding her against the car, shadows surrounding them, he slipped his hand between their bodies and cupped it around her breast.

Her gasp turned into a moan, and he drank it in. He deepened the kiss, and she wrapped her arms around him and melted into him.

Tires crunched in the gravel behind him and a car horn honked. He jerked back. How had he forgotten where they were?

“See what I mean?” he whispered. “Monroe is a hotbed of wickedness.”

“I must be losing my mind,” she murmured, staring at him.

“Did I offend you completely by kissing you in public?”

“Maybe not completely.” She smiled, touching his lips with her fingertips, and heat surged through him again. “I think it’s a good thing we’re in public. I see what you mean about those wicked thoughts.”

“I can fix the public part,” he said. Her arms were silky smooth and cool against his hands. He wanted to touch her everywhere.

Moonlight highlighted the lines of regret on her face. “Nick is waiting for me.”

“Tomorrow then.”

Sadness filled her eyes. “Not tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Her eyes softened at the endearment. “Nick and I are driving over to Bakersfield tomorrow to look at Janice’s car,” she said. “We want to make sure there’s no evidence that she had help going off the road.”

Definitely not the time for seduction. His hands gentled, slid down her arms to twine with hers. “You want some company?” he asked.

She sighed. “This isn’t going to be a fun trip.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “Maybe I can help.”

She searched his face. Finally she nodded, relief seeping into her eyes. “I’m taking advantage of you, but if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d like that. Nick would enjoy your company.”

He asked the now familiar question. “What about Nick’s aunt?”

She smiled at him. “Nick’s aunt would enjoy your company, too.”

It wasn’t a declaration of undying passion, but he’d take it for now. “I’ll be there. What time do you want to leave?”

“I hate to wake Nick early. How about noon?”

“Noon it is. I’ll see you then.”

He felt her gaze on his back as he walked away and anticipation hummed through him. He’d made it clear he was attracted to Claire. He knew she was attracted to him. Her reluctance to give in to the attraction that smoldered between them aroused all his competitive instincts.

Tucker wasn’t used to losing. At anything. And he didn’t intend to lose this time, either.

 

“THIS IS IT.” The junkyard owner gestured with a tattooed arm at the twisted mass of metal and plastic that had been Janice’s car. “This is how it looked when it came in. We don’t get much call for parts from a ’91 Escort.” He smoothed his hand over his bandanna-covered head and gave Claire an apologetic look, as if he was embarrassed for her.

He stood next to the wreck of the car, his arms folded across his massive chest, oddly protective of the ruined shell. The windows were gone and the roof had been peeled away to expose the interior. The torn vinyl seats, carefully patched with duct tape, were a silent reminder of her sister’s poverty.

And her failure to help Janice.

“Thank you,” Claire said. She looked at him, trying to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. “Can we look at it for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” The owner gave her a kind smile that transformed his hard face. “Take all the time you want. I’ll be in the office when you’re done if you have any questions.”

He disappeared down one of the narrow aisles, leaving them alone with the car. The car that had killed her sister.

Without thinking she wrapped her arm around Nick’s shoulders and pulled him close. He edged closer to her, seeking comfort. He sniffled once, then swiped his arm across his face.

Tucker stood off to the side, studying the car. Trying to give them a little privacy, she realized with a flutter of her heart. She and Nick huddled together as Claire tried not to picture her sister as the car sank below the surface of the lake, struggling to free herself.

Janice had been dead before the car hit the lake, she told herself sharply. That was what Chief Broderick had said. She’d died almost instantly.

“Why…why is it so smashed up?” Nick asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it went into the lake.”

She tightened her hold on her nephew. “Chief Broderick said the car bounced down the embankment before it got to the lake.” She hesitated. “He told me your mother died instantly. She didn’t suffer.”

Nick sniffled again.

Tucker knelt by the left side of the car, studying the rear wheel. “Come and take a look here, Nick,” he said.

Nick moved away from her and knelt next to Tucker. She squatted on Tucker’s other side.

“Had your mom had an accident lately?” Tucker asked.

“I don’t think so,” Nick answered. “She didn’t say anything about one.”

“Are you sure? Look at this.” Tucker pointed to a deep indentation in the panel behind the wheel.

Nick shook his head. “That wasn’t there, at least not two days before the accident.” His lip quivered. “I know because I washed the car. Mom was going to take me out driving. To practice before I started driver’s ed.”

Tucker looked at Nick. “Yeah? How did you do?”

Nick shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” His eyes filled with tears. “We just drove around the church parking lot, but Mom said I did a good job.”

“I bet you did,” Tucker answered. He gave Nick an encouraging smile. “You have good judgment and good reflexes. You’re going to be a fine driver.”

Nick stared at the ground, blinking furiously. “That’s what Mom said.”

“Once you get your permit, I can take you out to practice,” he said. He glanced over at Claire. “Unless you want to learn on that sissy car of your aunt’s.”

“Really? You’ll take me driving? In your truck?” Nick looked at Tucker. His eyes, drenched with tears, were suddenly full of stunned hope.

“Sure. Every guy needs to learn to drive a truck.” Tucker gently punched his shoulder. “Take a look at the back of the car, Nick. See if there are any new dents since you washed the car.”

Nick stood up, then moved to the rear of the car and bent to study it.

“Thank you,” Claire said to Tucker in a low voice. “Thank you for distracting him.” Her throat thickened and she stopped talking. Finally she managed to say, “I knew this would be hard for him.”

“And for you.” He stroked her face with a featherlight touch, gently brushing away a tear. “Do you want me to take you driving, too?”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to my sissy car.”

He took her hand, brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Take a look here.” He outlined the dent in the fender. “It makes me think Nick might be right, that Janice’s death wasn’t accidental.”

“What?” Ice congealed in her veins. She wanted to make sure Nick knew she wasn’t dismissing him, but she hadn’t really believed there was anything to his fears.

“See these scrape marks?” He pointed to an ugly gouge in the metal. “There’s some red paint in these scrapes. Like another car bumped her.”

Claire stared at the marks, her brain frozen, unable to believe what Tucker was saying.

He stood up. “You find anything in the back of the car?” he asked Nick.

“I don’t know.” Nick sounded bewildered. “There’s a dent back here, too.”

“Let’s see.”

Tucker went to the back of the car, squatted next to Nick. He was careful not to touch the metal. “More scrapes. And more red paint.”

Nick stared at him. “You think I’m right? You think someone pushed Mom off the road?”

“I have no idea, Nick,” Tucker said, standing up. “But I think we should let Chief Broderick know about these dents. I think he’ll want to follow up with this.”

 

“WHAT DO WE DO NOW?” Nick asked, turning to her with an expectant look as they headed back to Monroe.

Wedged between Tucker and Nick on the bench seat of Tucker’s truck, Claire gratefully turned to Nick. She was far too aware of Tucker’s thigh brushing against hers as he drove, the nudge of his elbow against her breast when he turned the steering wheel.

“I’m going to talk to Chief Broderick on Monday,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll want to have a look at the car.”

“We should go talk to him today,” Nick said, his voice raw with urgency. “What if something happens to the car?”

“The man at the junkyard promised he’d take care of the car,” she reminded him. “He’ll put it inside and keep an eye on it until he hears from Chief Broderick.”

Nick’s shoulders slumped and her heart twisted. “How about if I call the station when we get home and find out if he’s there?” she said.

“I guess.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What else are we going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to the people Janice worked with. I saw Derek Joiner at the game last night. I told him I’d come by to pick up Janice’s things.”

Nick scowled. “Is he that slick-looking blond dude?”

“You could describe him that way,” she answered cautiously. “Do you know him?”

“Not really. He came by the house a couple of times.”

“Was your mother dating him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Nick turned to look out the window. “I didn’t like him.”

“Why not?” Tucker asked.

“He tried to suck up to me. Acting like he was my best friend.” Nick scowled again. “Trying to be so cool.”

“If he was dating your mother, naturally he’d want you to like him,” Tucker said in a neutral voice.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t.” Nick slumped in the seat, staring out the windshield. Suddenly he looked over at Tucker. “My mom and I didn’t need him,” he burst out. “I heard him talking to her. He wanted to help her. We didn’t need any help. We were just fine on our own.”

“I guess that’s the last time I get to paint with you guys, then, huh?” Tucker drawled.

Nick flushed a bright red. “That’s different,” he muttered. “You wanted to help us.” He gave Tucker a sidelong glance. “Didn’t you?”

“You bet.” Tucker gave him a lazy grin. “Watching your aunt with a paint roller was quite the sight.”

“Yeah, well, Mr. Joiner didn’t really want to help us. I could tell by his fake smile.”

Claire glanced at Nick, wondering what to say. “I’ll go to your mom’s office on Monday,” she said. “I’ll talk to the people she worked with.”

“Like they’re going to know anything?”

“You never know. People who work together know a lot about each other.”

“Whatever.”

Nick looked out the window, but not before she saw the bright sheen of tears in his eyes again. She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

After a moment, Nick squeezed back. She stared straight ahead, holding on to Nick’s hand, her vision suddenly blurred by her own tears.

 

“I DON’T RIGHTLY KNOW what Janice was doing.” The older woman sitting behind the desk in city hall on Monday morning gave her a doubtful look. “None of us worked for anyone special,” she said. “We all did for everyone.”

Claire glanced at her name tag. “Was anything different about Janice in the last week or two, Ms. Shelton?”

“You can call me Annamae, hon,” the woman said. “And no, Janice didn’t seem any different than usual.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “It must seem odd, asking all these questions about my sister. But Nick, her son, misses her terribly.” She lowered her voice. “I thought if I could tell him what she was doing, how important her job was, he’d feel a little better.”

And since Chief Broderick wasn’t in the office and wouldn’t be until tomorrow, she needed to have something to tell Nick.

Annamae melted with sympathy, as Claire had hoped. “Oh, hon, you tell him that his mom was the best worker here. Why, even the mayor always looked for her first when he had a job for us.”

“Really? The mayor?”

“Yes, indeed. Mayor Denton was very pleased with your sister’s work. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Janice was a fine-looking woman. The mayor has an eye for the ladies.” Annamae’s mouth curled into a faintly disapproving frown.

“Mr. Joiner spoke to me at the football game last week,” Claire said. “He seemed to think a lot of Janice, too. Did she do a lot of work for him?”

Annamae gave her a sly smile. “We thought Derek had more in mind for Janice than work,” she said. “He was always sniffing around her. And she didn’t seem to mind.”

Claire looked around, as if to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard, then leaned closer. “Do you think they might have been involved?”

Annamae’s eyes sparkled. “Janice was a good woman. Derek could have done a lot worse.”

“So Janice wasn’t upset about anything right before her accident?”

“Oh, my, no,” the woman responded. “If anything, she seemed excited about something.” She winked. “That’s why I wondered about her and Derek.” Annamae studied Claire, her eyes sympathetic. “That accident was a real tragedy.”

“Yes.” Claire struggled to maintain her composure. “There were some marks on the car we don’t understand. Almost as if Janice crashed into something before her car left the road. That’s why I’m asking if she was upset about anything.”

“Just the opposite of upset,” Annamae assured her. “Like she had big news and couldn’t tell anyone.”

Someone touched Claire’s arm and she spun around. Derek Joiner stood behind her, a little too close.

“Hello, Claire,” he said, a tight smile on his face. “You’ve come for Janice’s things?”

“Yes,” she said, turning back to the woman in front of her. “Excuse me, Annamae.”

Derek placed his hand in the small of her back and steered her toward an office along the wall. “I have her things in here. I put them aside after I spoke to you.”

The sleek, modern furnishings of his office felt out of place in the ornate old building. An area rug that was a bold slash of color covered the glowing patina of the hardwood floors, and a painting of geometric patterns in black and white hung on the wall. A cardboard box was the only thing on the surface of his desk.

Claire looked down at the box that held Janice’s belongings. How easy it was to wipe away all traces of her from the office where she’d worked. “Thank you for taking the time to get her things together.”

“We all miss Janice,” he said.

Claire studied him. “Did Janice have any particular friends here? Anyone she might have confided in?”

Derek smiled, but his eyes were wary. “Janice was friendly to everyone.” He looked over at the door, and relief flashed across his face. “Isn’t that right, Mayor?”

Fred Denton stood in the doorway, watching Claire and Derek. “She sure was,” he said. He smiled, but his eyes were flat. “Everyone liked Janice.”

Claire’s heart jumped. She lifted the box and clutched it to her chest, forcing herself to acknowledge the mayor. Tension shivered in the air of the office, closed around her chest like a vise. If these walls could talk, could they tell her what had happened to her sister?

Her hands tightened on the box. “Thank you, Derek, for gathering her things for me.”

The younger man’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If you have any questions about Janice’s work, I’ll be happy to answer them for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Claire edged out of the office, leaning back to avoid brushing against the mayor. She could feel both men’s eyes on her as she walked away.

She paused at Annamae Shelton’s desk. “Thanks for your help, Annamae. Will you call me if you think of anything else I can tell her son?”

“Of course I will, honey.” She reached out and patted Claire’s hand. “You tell that boy of hers that his mama talked about him all the time. She was so proud of him that she like to burst the buttons on her blouse.”

“Thank you,” Claire whispered, her chest tightening. “He’ll appreciate hearing that.”

“And I’ll ask the others if Janice said anything to them.”

“Thanks.” Seeing the avid curiosity in the other woman’s face, Claire knew everyone in the office would hear about her visit. “It was nice meeting you, Annamae.”

“Likewise.” She studied Claire. “Janice said her sister had a big job in the city. You look like a city girl.”

Claire nodded, not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. “I’ll be talking to you.”

“You take care, honey.” Annamae’s voice trailed her out of the office. Claire stepped out into the sunshine and took a deep, trembling breath of fresh air.

Her conversation with Annamae Shelton had gone just as she’d hoped. Claire couldn’t question all the women in the secretarial pool, but Annamae would do that for her. If anything unusual had been going on with Janice in the weeks before she died, Claire was confident she’d hear about it.

As she headed away from city hall a shiver crawled up her spine, as if someone was watching her. She spun around, but the street was deserted. The flat, gray light from the cloudy sky turned the windows of city hall into a mirror, obscuring her view into the building.

Feeling oddly unsettled, she walked to her car and slid inside. She glanced at the police station as she drove past, disappointed she hadn’t been able to talk to Chief Broderick. She wanted to tell him about Janice’s car.

Just when she was becoming more comfortable in Monroe, she had to consider the possibility that someone in the town had murdered her sister. Sick at heart, she held the steering wheel tightly as she drove back to the house.

In spite of her growing friendship with Judy Johnson, in spite of Nick’s devotion to the football team and his determination to stay, they were leaving Monroe when the football season was over.

Tucker drifted into her mind, giving her a lazy smile, teasing her in his slow drawl. Regret was sharp and deep. She would miss Tucker. And so would Nick.

That was just another reason to leave. There was no future for her and Tucker. They wanted different things out of life, had different goals and dreams. Still, his presence in their lives was becoming addictive.

Not to mention his kisses.

It had been a mistake to allow him to become so involved. Better to leave soon, before she had the chance to get more deeply involved with him. Better to break it off cleanly, before she had time to make another mistake.

Better to protect her heart, even if she had to run away to do it.

Running away was the coward’s way out, a small voice murmured.

She ignored it. Running away was the sensible thing to do.

She knew how to run away. She was an expert at it.