“You immediately knew Roni was responsible?”

“Of course. That’s why I went to the police.”

But there was no record of her contact with the sheriff’s department. Claire would have to ask Myles if he knew anything about it. “If you weren’t scared before, you should’ve been then.”

“I was. But I was married at the time and didn’t feel so vulnerable. As the days, months and years passed, and she got everything she wanted, I realized I wasn’t at risk. She doesn’t consider me a threat. If what I knew could hurt her, she would’ve been in prison long ago.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve stayed here.”

“Where would I go?”

“You have siblings elsewhere in Montana.”

“But this place is all I know. And my children’s father works for the fire department. Scott wouldn’t let me take them away even if I wanted to move.”

Claire counted the rotations of the fan. The steady swoop sounded like a propeller circling in her head. “So you’re telling me she doesn’t have to worry because you have no proof those emails ever existed.”

April sat as straight as the chair. “The police should’ve confiscated her computer. But they didn’t.”

“No copies, like I said.”

Her gaze fell to the table. “No copies. Just what I can remember, what I told you.” Her eyes lifted to meet Claire’s. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“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

“Where 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.”