In Close (Bulletproof 3)

She thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. I could use a friend right now.”

He lowered his eyes. She suspected he was looking at the monkey bite he’d given her, which burned as if his mouth was still latched onto her skin. “I’ll get you some bedding.”

Generous of you to accommodate me, since you weren’t interested yourself.

Isaac almost laughed aloud when he remembered that line. Maybe he’d lost interest in other women—for months, he hadn’t paid any attention to who or what was available—but he definitely hadn’t lost interest in Claire.

She had no clue what she did to him, but he wasn’t about to let on. She was right when she said she was a little lost. The weight loss told him that much. If he really cared about her, he’d be the friend she needed and leave it at that. He had far less chance of letting her down as a friend than he did as a lover. There were still times when he felt he had to head out into the wilderness, to be alone for extended periods. He couldn’t imagine how that would go over if he ever entered a committed relationship. He just wasn’t cut out to be the kind of steady, reliable man David was.

Claire needed another David. She didn’t need him.

But it wasn’t easy to have her so close and not take her to bed. He should’ve made love to her last night while he had the chance. Then maybe he wouldn’t be staring at the ceiling now. He’d wanted to, but he’d been too stung, too disappointed that she hadn’t come for the reasons he’d wished…?.

The shower went on, which only made matters worse. He’d given her a towel, told her she could make herself at home, but picturing the water rolling over her naked body was driving him crazy. The shower used to be one of their favorite places to make love.

Actually, he couldn’t remember a place they hadn’t liked.

The phone rang. Surprised that he’d be getting a call so late, he checked the clock—1:20—as he reached for the handset. Was it someone looking for Claire?

Caller ID read Restricted.

“Hello?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing blindsiding Leland with that bullshit about David’s death not being an accident?”

His caller hadn’t bothered to identify himself, but Isaac recognized the voice. Rusty Clegg.

“What business of it is yours whether or not I call Leland about anything?” he responded. “It’s not as if I have anything to say to you.”

“It’s my business if it concerns David. You hardly even knew him.”

“I knew him well enough. Anyway, what does that have to do with whether or not his death was an accident?”

“It makes me wonder why you’re even getting involved.”

“And that makes me wonder why you’re so upset that I raised the question. Did I hit too close to the truth, Rusty? Do you know something you should’ve told the sheriff?”

“I work for the sheriff, damn it. And if there’d been the slightest chance that David’s death was anything but an accident, I would’ve jumped all over it.”

“Then you know he was investigating Alana O’Toole’s disappearance.”

There was a moment of silence. “That’s bullshit. David wasn’t doing any such thing.”

“You sure about that?”

“If he was, he would’ve mentioned it to me—not only because we were friends but because I was already working for the sheriff’s department. I’m the person he would’ve gone to for help.”

“Maybe he didn’t trust you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Adrenaline had vanquished any sleepiness Isaac had begun to feel. He got out of bed to pace. “Either that, or he didn’t have a lot of confidence in your ability, because he was investigating. And that’s a fact.”

“I don’t see how you could know anything about it. You weren’t even in town when he died.”

But he’d heard the news and flown back to attend the funeral. The whole town had turned out on that rainy day. Isaac would never forget hovering at the edge of the cemetery, wanting to comfort Claire as she stood crying under that umbrella long after everyone had left. He hadn’t let himself go anywhere close. Since he still cared about her it’d seemed too self-serving to sidle up to the grieving widow. But he hadn’t been able to leave until she did. “I didn’t realize you kept such close track of my whereabouts, Rusty.”

“I notice you.”

“Because…”

“Because I’ve never liked you much, okay? And neither did David. He knew you wanted his wife. Don’t think he didn’t.”

Isaac could’ve had his wife before she married David. He was pretty sure he could have Claire now. She’d been in his bed last night, hadn’t she? Getting her wasn’t the problem; doing right by her was. There was a magnetism between them that had been there for a long time.

Maybe others could feel that chemistry, too. Maybe that was the real problem. “Is there a reason my call to Leland upset you, Rusty?”

“It’s just not the kind of message I want on my answering machine when I get home after a long day. If David was murdered, I would’ve done something about it.”

“So you’ve at least considered the possibility.”

“No! Why would I? It was an accident, pure and simple. I was there that day, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“And there’s no way you could’ve gotten it wrong.”

“Absolutely not! The hunter who hit him felt terrible. Can you imagine what that would be like?”

He could imagine it. Lord knew he’d made enough of his own mistakes to understand the pain of regret. But he could also imagine a scenario where someone used the cover of hunting season to commit the perfect murder. “Did anyone check the caliber of the bullet? Trace it back to that hunter’s rifle?”

“Of course. We did our homework.”

“What was the hunter’s name? Where was he from?”

“I’m not giving you that information. He was just some guy from out of state who thought he was shooting at a bear, okay? Don’t start anything and get Claire all upset. She’s still recovering from David’s death.”

Isaac tensed as he remembered finding Claire walking along the side of the road. “If you care so much about her, why’d you leave her stranded at the Kicking Horse tonight?”