In Close
He hated that memory. Sometimes he hated Claire, too, for having such a strong hold on him despite his efforts to escape it. He was pretty sure she returned the sentiment. She wouldn’t even speak to him. If she saw him coming, she’d whip around and walk the other way. His career had taken off after a documentary he’d made on the impact of endangered status on the wolf population came to the attention of the editor at National Geographic a year or so after they’d quit seeing each other. That was when he’d started to travel. But Pineview was too small not to bump into her whenever he returned.
So, if he preferred to stay out of her life, why was he heading back to Alana’s studio to rescue whatever Claire didn’t want the sheriff to see?
He had no explanation for that. There was just something about her that made him do stupid things. Like sleeping with her for six months and not expecting to form an attachment. Like not turning away when she was being lovey-dovey with her husband so he wouldn’t have to carry that lasting and painful memory around with him. Like running hell-bent through the forest in an effort to reach her when she screamed—and just about puncturing his lung on a tree.
When he entered the studio’s clearing for the second time that evening, he found the place quiet and dark. The door stood open, exactly as he’d left it—a sign that no one had been there since.
He’d arrived in time. The files lay scattered on the floor.
Aiming his flashlight at the documents that had spilled out, he glanced over them and soon determined that they were case files—part of the investigation into Claire’s mother’s disappearance. He wasn’t sure why this was a secret. The sheriff must have a copy. That had to be where Claire had gotten this stuff in the first place.
He was sure of it until he read a report that talked about “inconsistencies” and realized that certain aspects of the case hadn’t been reported to the public. That meant Claire probably wasn’t supposed to know about them, suggesting she’d come by these through unofficial means.
Isaac raked a hand through his hair. “So that’s it.”
Careful not to pull on his stitches—Lord knew he’d bled enough for one night—he took all the papers and left the door halfway open, just as it had been before.
A car approached as he neared his own place. Using the darkness and the trees for cover, he crept close enough to the pitted dirt road to see who it was, and easily recognized the squad car. The deputies had arrived. Would they look around while they had the chance? Maybe…
Briefly, Isaac considered stopping whoever it was so he could hand over what he’d taken. Maybe there was something in these documents that would tell the sheriff why Claire had been attacked.
But he knew she didn’t want to give them up or she wouldn’t have lied, so Isaac figured he’d return them to her when he had the chance to do it discreetly.
He felt good about that decision—until he got home. After two hours spent reading through the various reports and interviews, he began to get a terrible feeling.
Something peculiar stood out....
He had to be wrong. Surely someone else would’ve noticed what he was seeing and brought it up if it was even a possibility.
Rubbing his eyes, which were bleary with fatigue, he wanted to let it go at that. He could be wrong. What was going through his mind wasn’t directly related to individual facts. It was more of a gut feeling about what all this information meant.
But it wouldn’t leave him alone....
“Shit,” he said when he set the files aside. If what he suspected was true, Claire was about to face another nasty shock.
And the sheriff was going to face his next big case.
4
Leanne wasn’t happy but that didn’t come as a surprise. To Claire’s dismay, her sister never seemed happy.
She watched Leanne maneuver her wheelchair to reach the nightstand, where she set the glass of water and the pain pills she’d brought in case Claire needed them later. The disgruntled frown that tugged at her lips bothered Claire, but not as much as the low-cut pink nightgown her sister was wearing. Held up by two black ribbons tied in bows, one over each shoulder, it went to her ankles—but it was too low-cut to be worn in front of a man other than an intimate boyfriend or husband.
And this was how she’d answered the door when Myles brought Claire home.
Unable to bite her tongue any longer, Claire broke the tense silence that’d fallen between them as soon as the sheriff left. She knew Leanne had plenty to say about what’d happened at the studio tonight—plenty about how she shouldn’t have been there in the first place—and thought she might as well air her own grievances before Leanne could get started. “You didn’t mind letting Myles see you like that?”
Her sister’s chin jutted out. “Like what?”
“Wearing sexy lingerie?” With no effort at all, Claire could make out the tattoo of a mermaid on her sister’s right breast. When Leanne bent forward, she could see clear to her navel—but glanced away. Leanne’s lack of modesty embarrassed her now as much as it had a few minutes earlier. What had gotten into her lately? Why was she acting like this?
Claire knew she struggled to feel attractive despite her handicap. It was heartbreaking to watch and the primary reason Claire had agreed with Leanne’s decision to get breast implants. She’d even helped pay for the operation. But Leanne had changed so drastically since the surgery, had become so blatantly sexual. Was she trying to prove that she was just as attractive and capable of pleasing a man as anyone who could walk?
It felt that way. But passing herself around to every guy who showed interest wouldn’t solve her self-esteem problem. And it wouldn’t do her reputation any favors, either, especially in such a small community.
“What are you talking about?” Leanne asked. “It’s not like this is transparent or anything.”
It didn’t need to be transparent to be inappropriate. Claire made an effort to hold on to her temper. She knew how easily this could blow up into a major argument and didn’t relish the idea of any more trouble with her sister. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats these days. “But you hate gossip. Why make yourself the focus of it?”
Leanne shrugged. “Folks around here are going to stare and talk no matter what. I have this wheelchair to thank for that. And Mom didn’t do us any favors when she ran off.”
Claire couldn’t stop herself from bristling. Leanne had just thrown her first jab, no doubt one of many. “You don’t know she ran off, Lee.”
“I know that’s the most likely answer—and I’m tough enough to accept it.”
Unlike her. The implication was too obvious to ignore. “Don’t start.”
Her sister’s blue eyes, a shade lighter than her own, flashed with the anger she’d kept concealed while Myles was in the house. “You need to hear it. You think finding out the truth will somehow make things better? That you’ll be able to prove she loved you? That’s pathetic. Dad and I have asked you and asked you to leave the past alone, but you won’t. You just have to convince yourself that no one would ever willingly abandon you.”
She meant Tug when she said Dad. They called Tug and Roni Dad and Mom, even though their real dad was alive and in Wyoming with his other family. He was such an angry individual, so difficult to deal with, that Alana had preferred to let him go on his way unfettered—and he’d had no argument with that plan because he’d signed the adoption papers the moment she sent them. He was probably glad to escape legal responsibility for the children he’d left behind so he could pretend he’d never been married the first time. “I’ve accepted that our real dad didn’t love us enough to hang on, haven’t I?”
“That was easier. He took off when you were three and I was a baby. Tug’s the one who’s loved us and looked after us but you don’t care about what’s best for him.” She motioned to the bump on Claire’s head. “And this is what you get.”
Claire shoved herself into a sitting position. “Are you saying I deserved this?”
“I’m saying it could’ve been avoided if you weren’t so damn selfish.”
The barb stung, especially because Claire couldn’t be sure it wasn’t true. “Selfish, Lee? Really? This isn’t about me. There’s more to what happened when Mom disappeared than you think. And I feel a certain…obligation to get to the bottom of it. What I can’t understand is why you don’t feel the same. She was your mother, too!”
“I have some loyalty to the parent who did stick around. Why aren’t you more grateful to Dad?”
Claire remembered what she’d read in the files at the cabin. She almost asked Leanne why she’d never told anyone she’d been out of school for three hours on the day their mother went missing. Where had she gone? And why? Was she being loyal to their father when it came to that information, too?
Claire was dying to know—but she wasn’t willing to reveal what she’d learned. Not yet. She hadn’t even read everything in those files. But she hoped to. As soon as Leanne went to bed, Claire planned to return to the cabin and collect what she’d dropped—if it was still there. Chances were good that Myles would beat her to it. As they were pulling away from Isaac’s place, he’d radioed for a couple of deputies to get her car, told them to leave her keys under the mat by Leanne’s front door. They might pick up those files, too. Or the sheriff himself could return to the cabin tonight instead of waiting until morning.
“I am grateful to Dad,” she said. “I just don’t see why I can’t be loyal to both.”
“Maybe Dad and I don’t want to accept that she didn’t love us enough to stay. Have you ever thought of that?”
“Of course, but…she did love you. She loved all of us. I prefer to have faith.”
“Faith?” Leanne scoffed. “Maybe I’m crippled, but you’re blind.”
When would the meds the doctor gave her kick in? Claire’s head felt as if it was about to explode. Forcing herself to lie down, she sighed in frustration. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I had the sheriff call off the investigation for your sake and Dad’s. That’s something.”
“It’d be something if you could finally let it go, too. Let us live in peace, instead of just…placating us.”
“Fine, I’ll let it go if you’ll develop a little self-respect and restraint.” The words rushed out before Claire could stop them.
Leanne had started to wheel herself to the door, but at this she paused. “What?”
Already regretting the statement—it was nothing if not an invitation to fight—Claire pulled the covers up to her neck. She wanted to crawl into a hole until she felt well enough to deal with her sister. “You’re not even wearing a bra, Lee. When you bend over you can see everything.”
“The sheriff wasn’t here long enough for me to bend over,” she said with a grimace. “Anyway, I have the right to wear pretty things. Why can’t I enjoy sexy lingerie as much as the next woman?”
They were back to her handicap. It was the quickest way to disarm Claire, and Leanne didn’t hesitate to wield the power it gave her.
Claire felt so bad about what her sister had suffered, and continued to suffer, that she was willing to put up with almost anything. But Leanne had gone too far with Sheriff King tonight. Claire would never forget the stunned look on his face. She had to make her point, before Leanne’s behavior got any worse.
“I don’t have a problem with you enjoying sexy lingerie,” she said.
“You’re the one who brought it up.”
Claire lifted her head—and paid the price when it felt as if someone had just taken a swing at her with a baseball bat. “Because—” she waited until the pounding began to diminish “—you came to the door in a nightgown that barely covers your nipples. Myles is a married man. Not only that, but he’s with my best friend, and they have three children.”
“His and hers,” she said flippantly.
“So? What difference does that make?”
Leanne gestured in a dismissive fashion. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion. He’s married to a beautiful woman. Why would he want a cripple when he has Laurel?”
Claire massaged her temples. Thankfully, the painkiller was starting to take the edge off her pain. “Stop defining yourself exclusively by your condition! That’s not the issue.”
Leanne’s voice climbed an octave. “Then what is? You’ve been telling me what to do since we were kids, but I’m an adult now, and I’ll live my own life! You’re freaking out over nothing. He didn’t even notice me.”
But she’d been hoping he’d notice, hoping he wouldn’t be able to resist admiring her new double Ds in spite of his pretty wife.
“Of course he noticed,” Claire said. “Anyone would. The whole encounter made him uncomfortable—and embarrassed me.”
“Oh, and I would never want to embarrass you! God, all you care about is yourself!”
Sometimes Claire just wanted to put some space between her and Leanne. But she couldn’t. She felt too much obligation to every member of her family, even her missing mother—especially her missing mother. “All I’m saying is that you should’ve covered up when he came to the door. That’s it. Quit trying to twist this into something it isn’t.”
“It was late and I was in bed. You know how much harder it is for me to change clothes than it would be for you or anyone else.”
That was an excuse. The sheriff had called dispatch so Nadine Archer could tell Leanne what had happened. Leanne had had some warning, could’ve slipped on a robe. She’d wanted him to see her in that nightie, wanted to find out if she could turn his head.
“I’m trying to tell you that you’re acting strange these days, and it’s becoming apparent to others.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “Quit with the scare tactics.”
“I can hear the cars that come over here late at night. I live next door, remember?”
“Oh, so now you want to know who I see? You think I should get your permission before I have sex? You may have decided never to make love again, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be celibate, too. Why shouldn’t I take what pleasure I can while I’m young? It’s not as if my life will ever get any better. What man’s going to want to marry me?”
Claire’s breath caught in her throat. It would be terrible to think she’d lost her chance at love just because of a sledding accident. “That’s not true! You have so much to offer—”
“Oh, stop it.” Leanne pressed the button that powered her wheelchair and headed for the hall. “Don’t try to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. I’ll make those decisions. How I entertain myself, day or night, is none of your business. It’s nobody’s business. I don’t care what other people think.”
“I’m telling you this for your own good,” Claire called after her. “I only want you to be happy.”
She swung around in the doorway. “You want me to be happy?”
Claire hadn’t expected a response. Taken off guard, she blinked. “Of course.”
“Then stop digging around in the past. Can you do that much?”
If only she could promise she would, but she couldn’t. And it was time—past time—to admit it. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said. “I have to know what happened, have to make sure Mom gets justice.”
“Justice.” Leanne laughed bitterly. “What if justice isn’t what you think?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Maybe you can understand this—she’s gone, Claire. That’s all that matters.”
Leanne’s words seemed to echo off the walls long after she’d left. All that matters… All that matters…
Was it?
Not to Claire.
“Sometimes I hate you,” she whispered. But she loved her sister, too, and she knew her mixed feelings weren’t likely to change. Leanne had always been difficult to deal with, even before the accident. She’d never made life any easier on herself—or anyone else.
Unwilling to let the evening end so negatively, Claire got out of bed and went to find her. She wanted to put their argument behind them, wanted to give her sister whatever she’d like. But Leanne’s demand that she forget the past warred with what Claire needed most and, selfish or not, she couldn’t help it.
The painkiller was finally doing its job. For the first time since she’d hit her head, Claire could walk without staggering or using the walls to prop herself up. But as she approached the kitchen, she heard Leanne getting a bottle from the liquor cabinet and stopped.
On top of everything else, Leanne was drinking too much. Claire had suspected it for a while. That was probably part of the reason Leanne had changed so much in the past year. But Claire couldn’t do any more about her sister’s drinking than her behavior with men. Claire definitely knew better than to call her on it tonight. They’d only get into a bigger fight if she did.
Quietly returning to her room, she waited until she heard a car outside. Then she got dressed, slipped out while Leanne was still in the kitchen and retrieved her car keys from under the mat.
The files were gone. There wasn’t a single one left.
“Damn it.” Claire slumped against the door frame, aiming the flashlight she’d brought from home at the bare floor.
A twig or tree branch snapped in the forest. Straightening, she jerked her flashlight in that direction. It could be a rodent, a bear or even the man who’d attacked her before, but she wasn’t seriously concerned. The pain meds had hit her full force. She wasn’t feeling any anxiety. Maybe she was even too high to drive....
What now? she asked herself. There were more boxes in the attic she could tote home. She’d come all this way, felt she should make the trip as productive as possible. But she couldn’t bring herself to visit the attic. Not with the memory of being attacked so fresh in her mind.
She stood on the front stoop, wondering about whether Sheriff King would call to ask where she’d gotten those files. Should she go on the offensive and demand to know everything they contained if he did? And…how was she going to get back home, since she probably shouldn’t drive?
The memory of Isaac Morgan carrying her through the forest intruded. He lived within walking distance. Maybe it was self-destructive but there wasn’t another living soul she’d rather see.
That was usually the case when it got this late, wasn’t it?
She couldn’t deny her desire for him. The temptation he posed tugged at her more powerfully the longer she lived without David. But she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t go to his house, wouldn’t get involved with him again. They’d only end up in bed.
But…why would that be so bad? If David wasn’t around to care, to be with her, why hold back?
Suddenly she couldn’t think of a single thing it would hurt. She’d slept with Isaac before. Lots of times. One last hurrah wouldn’t make any difference.
A little voice in her head protested as she trudged off. But the fireworks were over. The whole town was asleep. Unlike her previous trip, she felt completely alone and capable of doing whatever she wanted without anyone’s knowing, and that left her vulnerable to her weaker self, especially now, when she was depressed about the way things had gone with Leanne and the fact that the sheriff had taken the files.
Isaac’s house was completely dark. Even the porch light had been turned off. He was obviously in bed. She felt guilty for disturbing him. Like her, he’d been injured tonight—probably more seriously than she had. But she was standing outside at nearly three in the morning with nothing except a flashlight and didn’t know where else to go. Returning to her car and attempting to drive home didn’t seem feasible when she was so light-headed. She couldn’t even remember what she’d done with her car keys....
Would he get angry if she woke him up?
Maybe he would if she expected him to drive her home. But she didn’t. She only wanted more of what he used to give her—a night of the most exciting sex imaginable. The Isaac she knew wouldn’t object to putting his talents to work, injured or no. After she’d stopped frequenting his place but before she married David, he’d called her many times, always in the middle of the night—just to get her attention, to remind her that he was waiting, willing and hoping she’d come back.
It’d taken her ten years. But here she was.
5
She got him to come to the door. He was groggy and half-asleep, but that was okay. She preferred him to be half-asleep. Had he been any more alert, he might’ve questioned her, made her grovel, maybe even refused her to pay her back for ignoring the attempts he’d made to reach out to her. She’d never forget how upset he’d looked when he chanced upon her and David in the forest shortly after they were married. Isaac didn’t care about her, but he was possessive enough that seeing her with another man bothered him, probably more than he wanted to admit. He’d never reacted with jealousy any other time.
As it was, he seemed a little startled when she pushed him back into the house the moment he opened the door. He asked what was going on, but when she switched off the light he’d just turned on and reached for him, he figured it out fast enough. Becoming instantly alert, and hard just as quickly, he welcomed her into his arms. Then his breath shortened and his hands grew very purposeful as they made their way beneath her clothes.
“That’s it,” she murmured, but she was thinking, At last, when her T-shirt hit the floor and his mouth, with its perfect lips, found her breast.
Allowing her eyes to close, she surrendered completely. She could no longer recall why she’d been denying herself. There were reasons, of course. Just none she was willing to list right now.
When her hands clenched in his thick black hair and she began to gasp, he groaned in appreciation of her eagerness and picked her up in his arms.
Briefly, she thought of his stitches, wanted to caution him not to do anything that could rip them out, but he didn’t seem to be worried or in any more pain than she was. Maybe they were both high on meds. She would’ve laughed that something as unforeseen as an attack could bring them together after the protracted battle she’d fought to stay away. But she knew in her heart that it wasn’t a laughing matter. She’d be sorry tomorrow.
When he placed her on the bed, she expected him to back off long enough to remove the jeans he’d put on to answer the door, expected him to get right down to business. He’d won, hadn’t he? Surely he’d want her to know it, to prove it to her in no uncertain terms. This wasn’t a sweet and gentle lovemaking session likely to progress slowly. She hadn’t meant it to be. Sweet and gentle was David’s territory. When she had sex with Isaac, the need to get closer and closer consumed her. He made her buck and moan.
But he didn’t seem willing to leave her yet, not even for the few seconds taking off his pants would require. He pinned her beneath him, hands above her head, and kissed her in a way that left her in no doubt that he craved what she’d denied him for the past decade.
Soon Claire was so sensitive to his touch she could hardly contain the building excitement. No wonder she thought of Isaac so often, had to fight the desire to visit him on a nightly basis. It’d only been a year since she’d slept with her husband, but it’d been a decade since she’d slept with Isaac. She wasn’t sure how she could feel so strongly about him when she loved David as much as she did, but it was true.
Letting go of her wrists, he covered her breasts with his palms. She could feel his hard length pressing into her stomach as he gently tweaked her nipples. Then she was trying to remove his pants because she couldn’t wait a second longer.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured as he helped rid them both of what remained of their clothes.
She didn’t believe him. How could he miss her if he’d never cared about her to begin with? He missed the sexual release she could provide. Somehow, whatever magic he held for her, she seemed to hold for him, too. They were both cursed.