He still wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if Old Man Tippy hadn’t taken him in. No doubt he would’ve been sent to an orphanage somewhere. But when Tippy volunteered, the law sort of looked the other way so he could have a new home without all the red tape—and it was a good home, for the most part. Tippy had been kind. He’d put a roof over Isaac’s head, provided the basics and taught him everything he knew about photography, which he’d spent a lifetime studying. But he hadn’t lived long. At sixteen, Isaac had inherited all of Tippy’s video and photography equipment, along with the little shack they’d shared on Crystal Lake. He’d upgraded the equipment more than once, but he still owned the shack, and went there on occasion. He’d been alone ever since Tippy’s death and that was how he felt safest. If he was alone he didn’t have to worry about being left.
Refastening the bandage over the stitching that held his skin together, he sat up. It was after Tippy died that he’d really begun to act out. He’d been so angry and self-destructive, so unable to control his own emotions, that Pineview hadn’t known how to handle him. The more others tried to control him, the harder he fought. He was twenty-one when he’d had his first sexual encounter with Claire. He’d been with other girls but no one like her and he wasn’t ready for the way she affected him. Maybe if they’d gotten together later, after he’d learned to channel his excess energy into his work, they would’ve had a chance. Instead of acknowledging how much he cared, he’d denied his feelings for her, even to himself, did everything he could to prove that she was just a piece of ass.
So she’d given up on him and gone back to David, where she belonged. David knew how to treat her; he was the only person Isaac had ever secretly envied. David had graduated with honors and gone to college. He had more friends and family than he’d known what to do with. Isaac couldn’t name a single person who hadn’t liked the guy.
And yet there had to be one, didn’t there? If what Isaac had come to suspect after reading the files on Alana was correct, the hunting accident that had taken David’s life was no accident at all.
He glanced at the phone. He hadn’t told Claire what he believed, hadn’t even mentioned that he had her files. Seeing her like that had caused such a torrent of emotion, his thoughts had headed down a completely different path. And by the time he could think straight, he’d begun to question his own conclusions. He had nothing to back up his suspicions, except that David had been pursuing his own investigation into Alana’s disappearance, and just as he seemed to be making headway, he was killed.
Coincidence? Or murder?
Getting shot by another hunter was so rare…?.
His stitches pulled when he got to his feet. He needed another couple of aspirin.
He felt marginally better once he’d given himself a few minutes to acclimate to a vertical position. Then he made his way into the kitchen, where he skipped the aspirin in favor of finding the phone book.
Two other hunters had gone into the forest with David the day he was shot, both of them friends of his from high school. Rusty Clegg, a deputy sheriff, was one of them. Leland Faust, who owned a farm near Big Fork since he’d married Bella Wagoner, was the other. Isaac didn’t particularly care for Rusty. They’d had a couple of run-ins at the Kicking Horse Saloon. He got the impression that Rusty liked the power he wielded just a little too much, and that grated on Isaac. So he looked up Leland’s number instead.
Just as he expected, Leland was listed.
Grabbing his phone, Isaac slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
Leland’s wife answered. She told him her husband was already out on the farm but supplied his cell phone number.
Isaac had a cell phone, too. He used it when he traveled, but there wasn’t any service in Pineview so it was useless here. Only Kalispell, Big Fork and some of the larger cities had reception. Apparently, Leland lived close enough to Big Fork to be able to use his.
“’Lo?”
A gruff voice came through above the hum of a large motor—a tractor, maybe?
“Leland, it’s Isaac Morgan.”
The engine died. “Who?”
“Isaac Morgan.” Isaac had never called him before. They’d never had any trouble, but they weren’t exactly friends.
“That’s what I thought you said. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could answer a few questions.”
“About…”
“David O’Toole.”
This met with a protracted silence. “Why would you want to know anything about David?”
“Let’s call it general curiosity, for now.”
“I’m not sure that’s enough reason to get me to talk about him.”
Isaac understood. Those memories had to be difficult. “Then I’ll be more specific. I’m afraid the accident that took his life wasn’t an accident.” He waited for an exclamation of shock or surprise, but didn’t receive one. The pause felt charged with some strong emotion, but because Leland hadn’t spoken, Isaac couldn’t tell which emotion or why. “You still there?” he prompted.
“Yeah, I’m here. What makes you say that?”
This was the question Isaac had assumed would come immediately after his earlier statement. Why had it been delayed? What was going on in Leland’s head? Was he remembering? Wondering if what Isaac had just said could be true? Or was he thinking that he’d suspected the same thing?
“I’d rather not explain at the moment,” Isaac replied. “But…maybe you can convince me otherwise.”
“And if I can’t?”
Isaac felt his eyebrows shoot up. “What does that mean?”
“It means nothing. Never mind. I don’t want to talk about this,” he said, and the phone went dead.
6
When Claire opened her eyes and saw the sun creeping around the corners of her blinds, she pulled her extra pillow over her head. It couldn’t be morning. Not yet.
“Claire? You going to answer or not?”
Claire wished she could ignore the voice at her front door. Once she got up, she’d have to come to full awareness, and with full awareness she’d be faced with the memory of what she’d done last night. After ten years, she’d gone back to Isaac’s house, and his bed. But instead of being fulfilled, instead of feeling as satisfied as she once had, she battled regret—just as she’d expected. Served her right.