On the way up to the front door, Gil said, “Look, we’ll tell them what Wolochuk said but let’s not mention our plans about getting information from Beth.”
“Okay.” Her eyes connected to his. She smiled.
“Thanks again, Gil,” and then, confused by the unexpected warmth in his gaze, Clare looked away and pressed the doorbell.
Dave answered. “Hey! Welcome strangers. Come on in.”
Dave, moving slowly on his crutches, led them to the living room where Laura was talking to a teenaged girl. Her happy greeting produced a tinge of guilt in Clare about concealing information from her friend. Over the years, they’d been very frank with each other about the events in their lives, corresponding through e-mail and connecting on the telephone. Even though she hadn’t seen Laura since her wedding two years ago, the gap hadn’t affected the bond of their long friendship. And Clare knew Laura would expect that openness to continue.
“Hi, you two! Come and meet Tia,” Laura gestured to the girl sitting beside her on the sofa. “This is Tia Ramsay, who’s going to be helping with Emma. Tia, our good friends Clare Morgan and Gil Harper. They’re also Emma’s godparents.”
Clare smiled at the tall, slender young girl. “You look familiar,” she said.
“You came to speak to our English class,” she said shyly. “You were great. We all really enjoyed your talk.”
Not quite all, Clare thought. Jason’s face came to mind.
“So how was your day?” Laura asked.
Clare saw the eagerness for details in her face. She glanced quickly at Tia.
“Tia, could you take Emma upstairs?” Laura swiftly asked. “She’s already eaten and I’ll come up and change her for bed before we have our own dinner. If you put her in her carrier seat, you can amuse her for a few minutes with some of her toys. Okay?”
“Sure.” Tia took Emma from Dave and headed upstairs.
“She seems competent,” Clare said.
“She ought to be. She’s got a younger brother and two sisters at home. Would anyone like a drink?”
“Not for me,” Gil said. He sat down in the chair opposite the sofa.
“Me, neither,” said Clare, not wanting to prolong the visit any longer than she had to. She was anxious to get to the hotel and phone the woman whose name her mother had provided.
“So tell us about your visit with old man Wolochuk. Is he as weird as his wife?”
Clare sat down next to Laura. “Not really. More sad than anything.” She gave Laura and Dave a quick recap of her impressions about the former teacher.
“What did he say when you told him about Jason?”
Clare looked across at Dave. “He refused to believe his son was capable of being so sneaky. He also denied having an argument with his wife about the book. He said they fought all the time, mainly about money.”
“Do you think Jason made it all up, then?”
Laura was quick to get to the same conclusion she and Gil had reached, Clare thought. “We were wondering the same thing, but then what was his motivation for the note?”
“If he’s not lying, then his parents are,” said Dave.
“We’ll have to go back to see his wife,” Gil added.
In the lull that followed, Clare said, “I’ll go upstairs and get my suitcase.” She’d packed before leaving that morning so that Laura could prepare the room for Tia.
“I’ll get it,” offered Laura. She was on her feet and out of the room before Clare could protest.
“Would you two like to come for dinner tomorrow? I know Laura would love to talk more about all of this,” Dave said.
Clare glanced across at Gil, but his expression was unreadable. “Sure, that’s fine with me,” she said.
“Gil?”
He smiled. “That’d be nice, Dave.”
Laura returned with Clare’s luggage and they all rose to go. Clare waited until Gil went out the door, followed by Dave.
“Laura, Gil told me that your father was the person who got his dad the job at town hall.”
Laura pulled her head back in surprise. “What? My father?”
“Wasn’t he head of personnel there?”
“Well, yes, but I don’t think he knew Mr. Harper back then.”
“Gil said your father just phoned out of the blue with a job offer. Mr Harper didn’t even apply for it.”
Laura frowned. “That’s strange, Clare. I’ve a good mind to call Dad in Florida and ask him about it.”
Clare placed her hand on Laura’s arm. “Don’t bother him about it. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation and besides, it doesn’t have anything to do with our inquiries about Rina Thomas. Gil just happened to mention it when we were reminiscing on the trip back from Hartford.”
“Reminiscing?” Laura grinned. “Is that what you were doing when you called from Gil’s house?”
Clare bristled at the innuendo, but refused to let her feelings show. “It was all business, I assure you.” She smiled.
“You can fool yourself, Clare baby, but you aren’t fooling me.” She laughed aloud and hugged her. “Did Dave ask you guys for dinner tomorrow night?”
Clare nodded.
“Good. See you at seven?”
“Sure,” Clare said and descended the porch steps to where Gil was waiting.
“I guess you’ll be driving over to the hotel in your car,” he said.
“Hmm.” Hadn’t she already told him that?
He hesitated a few more seconds. “Listen, how about dinner tonight?”
She wanted to plead fatigue but the softness of his gaze washed away any doubts about spending more time that day with Gil. “All right. Where shall we meet?”
“I can pick you up at the hotel. Maybe we can go back to the place where Dave and Laura took us.”
“Great,” she said and headed for her car in the driveway before she could change her mind. As she reversed out of the drive onto the street, she caught a glimpse in her rear mirror of Gil still standing on the sidewalk. He watched her until she rounded the corner and left him behind.
HE FELT A SHARP intake of breath when she stepped out of the elevator. She was wearing the same form-fitting dress she’d worn the night they had dinner with Laura and Dave. Her freshly shampooed hair glistened and her eyes seemed to sparkle under the lights. Gil swallowed, realizing that dinner was not going to be a simple meal with an old friend.
“You look—” he hesitated about using the word but did so anyway, “—ravishing.” He saw at once from the high color in her cheeks that the compliment pleased her. She was carrying her trench coat over her arm and he helped her into it. “I was able to get reservations at that restaurant—Serendipity?”
“Wonderful. The food was great.” She started toward the door, then turned suddenly, jostling against him.
“Sorry,” she said. “Are we…uh, walking or driving?”
“It’s a beautiful evening so I thought we could walk. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll get to work up an appetite.”
Feeling as awkward as a teenager on his first big date, Gil led her out the door. He instinctively linked arms with her and was pleased when she didn’t pull away. “By the way,” he said as they made the short walk to the restaurant, “I called my friend Beth from the sheriff’s office and asked her to photocopy that file for me.”
She missed a step, sharply turning her head. “What did she say?”
“She was reluctant at first, but I managed to convince her that no one would find out. She’s going into work early in the morning to do it, then will meet me during her lunch break to give me the file.”
“That’s amazing, considering she could get into a lot of trouble.”
“She said that since it was what they call a cold case, it wouldn’t matter too much as long as I destroyed the copy when I was finished with it.”
“What reason did you give her for wanting the file?”
“I told her the truth—about hoping to set
the record straight about my own involvement. For my parents’ sake. She understood completely.”
“And I called the woman my mother worked with— Fran Dutton is her name—but she wasn’t home so I had to leave a message. Mom didn’t think she’d be able to do much for us but said that Fran had been one of the few people to express sympathy about what happened.”
“Is this Fran still working at the bank?”
“Yes. Mom thought she might be in some high-level position now so…I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
“Me, too,” he said. Secretly, he doubted that Clare would be able to find any evidence that her mother had been framed. But he also knew that taking on the task of exonerating her mother was as important to her as his mission was to him. And if neither of them had any success at all, well, at least they’d managed to resolve the bitterness between them, he hoped.
“What say we dispense with business talk for the rest of the evening?” he impulsively suggested. “I think we can both use a break from—”
“The past?”
She was smiling. A good sign. “Exactly,” he said.
The smile broadened and as they entered the restaurant, Gil felt his step lighten. He was having dinner with a beautiful woman who was turning a lot of heads as she followed the host to their table. Right then, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
That unexpected thought stayed with him throughout the meal. He found himself watching her every move. More, he wanted to hear all about her. Warmed by his interest, she became animated as she told him about her struggle with her first novel and its subsequent sale.
“Your turn now,” she declared when she finished a story about those early days.
He didn’t know what to say or where to begin, sensing that telling her about those first few months at Yale—the bleakness and despair he went through after their breakup—would definitely dampen the ambience of the evening. So he focused on his postgrad days. “After I passed the bar exam, I got a job with the public defender for a few months.”
“That must have been interesting.”
“Oh, it was. I liked the work a lot, but had so many loans to pay off that when I got the offer from the company I currently work for, I had little choice but to take the job.”
“So it’s not really what you’d love to be doing?”
The question took him aback. She’d managed to get right to the nub of his dilemma back then. Pay off the debt or live with it a lot longer and be the kind of lawyer he’d once dreamed of being. “There are different challenges with corporate law. I enjoy them now,” he said.
She tilted her head. The candlelight from their table flickered in her eyes. “Now?” she asked softly.
“I’m older and I admit, accustomed to the substantial material benefits of corporate law,” he said.
“But it’s not your first love,” she prodded.
No, you were. Gil was rattled by her comment. He needed to take control of his emotions. The woman across from him was not the teenaged girl he’d once loved. His gaze tracked across her face. When had she become so impossibly lovely, he wondered? Of course he’d noticed her beauty that day in senior English class and later, had come to know the rest of her—her gentle but indomitable spirit, her zest and sense of fun. Traits that had set her apart from other girls at Twin Falls High, especially girls like Rina Thomas.
The waiter appeared with their meals and Gil gratefully concentrated on his. Occasionally his eyes met hers as they ate, but he forced himself to focus on the act of eating rather than reminiscing. When Clare rose from her chair and excused herself between dinner and coffee, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she meandered around the tables on her way to the ladies’ room.
Had she always had that natural yet provocative sway? He wondered at what point in time the teenage Clare had metamorphosed into this sensual and mature woman. A rush of regret flowed through him that he hadn’t been there to witness the transformation. That his seventeen-year-old self had never imagined a woman like her. That maybe—and he hated to admit it—he ought to have fought just a bit harder to keep her.
All water under the bridge now. Isn’t that what he’d told her? Gil finished his wine and when coffee was delivered, asked for the bill. He recognized that the evening was heading in a risky direction and now was his last chance to keep a lid on emotions he hadn’t felt for a long time. When Clare returned, he’d already finished his coffee and paid the bill.
Her eyes flickered in surprise, but she didn’t say anything. The walk back to the hotel was silent, though Gil’s mind raced frantically to find some appropriate good-night line. Confessing that he’d been overcome by fear of being in her presence a minute longer wasn’t the best one, even if it was the truth.
“Shall we meet sometime tomorrow?” she asked when they were half a block from the hotel.
“Yes, of course. Any particular time?”
“It’s up to you.” She stopped walking and looked up at him.
“How about I call you about nine or so in the morning and we decide then?”
She nodded but still didn’t speak. The faint splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose seemed embossed on her face in the halogen glow of the streetlight. The effect made her look like a young girl again, and Gil had a sudden flash back to the first time he’d kissed her years ago.
They’d been to a school basketball game and Gil had walked her home. It was their third date and she’d been unusually quiet. They’d stopped on the sidewalk outside her house, under the streetlight. It was January and she was bundled up against the cold. Her breath puffed tiny frozen clouds into the chilly night air and the tip of her nose was red. He’d wondered if he’d said something that night to trouble her and cautiously asked what was on her mind. Her face broke into a big smile and she’d whispered, I was wondering when you were going to kiss me.
“What are you thinking?”
Gil shook himself. The Clare in front of him was speaking. “Uh…”
Her eyes shone with amusement. “You had such a faraway expression on your face,” she said. “Where were you?”
Gil blurted, “Thinking of our first kiss.”
The smile disappeared. Her lips parted, as if she were about to speak but couldn’t find the words. She was standing so close to him that Gil swore he could hear her breathing and he would have drawn back were it not for what he read in her eyes.
She was remembering it, too. He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer. When she didn’t resist, he slid one hand up behind her neck and the other, beneath her chin. Then in a motion so slow he thought he was dreaming, he tilted her face up to his and lowered his mouth onto hers.
He tasted the warm, salty sweetness of her lips and closed his eyes. The miracle was that she didn’t pull back. He felt her hands move to the back of his head, pressing him against her. Her lips parted and the kiss deepened. He was sinking into her, unable to stop himself. The tumble of water from the falls up ahead was nothing compared to the rapid drumming of Gil’s heart against his chest. The crisp night air was like a breeze across the Caribbean Sea, bringing with it the tantalizing scents of frangipani and Clare.
Her soft body sank into every hollow of his and Gil lost himself in the rhythm of hands and lips. The world beyond their two bodies was muted as Gil surrendered all thought to the past.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CLARE PEERED DOWN at her watch, although she knew no more than five minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked. She’d arranged to meet Gil in Mitzi’s Café at twelve-thirty, after his rendezvous with Beth at a nearby coffee shop. He wasn’t any more than ten minutes late, but still she fretted. And although she told herself her anxiety had nothing to do with their parting last night, she knew deep inside that the kiss had somehow transported her back into adolescence. She felt as nervous meeting him in the harsh light of day now as she had after the first—and last—time they’d made love, just two weeks before Rina Thomas
was killed.
Clare sighed. It seemed that ever since her return to Twin Falls, time and events had been measured in terms of before or after Rina’s murder. How ironic, Clare thought, that a girl whom everyone had considered an outsider should continue to exert so much influence long after her death.
“More coffee?”
Clare glanced up at the young woman waiting on tables.
“No, thanks. And if my friend doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, I’ll order lunch for myself.”
“No hurry. It’s a slow day.” She carried the coffeepot to another customer.
Clare had chosen a booth midway down the length of the diner and was facing the door. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a familiar figure enter the diner. Not Gil, but Helen Wolochuk. Clare ducked her head, but not before she’d been spotted. When she heard movement at her side, she was forced to raise her head to Helen Wolochuk’s red and angry face.
She sat down across from Clare and pointed an index finger at her. “Why are you and your boyfriend causing my family so much grief? What have we ever done to you?”
Inexplicably, Clare focused on the word boyfriend. She briefly considered setting her straight but something in the woman’s face told her she wasn’t there for small talk. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Wolochuk, but—”
“It’s Helen and you’re not sorry at all. You went to see Stanley yesterday and filled his head with complaints about Jason.”
“You knew we were going to see your husband.”
“Then he phones to give Jason a tongue-lashing and had the poor boy in tears.”
Clare doubted that. “Maybe it’s a good thing that Jason was upset—”
“What do you know about upset?” she snarled, leaning forward. Her eyes blazed. “Someone like you. What kind of life do you enjoy?”
“Mrs. Wolochuk—Helen—I’m sorry that life has turned out the way it has for you but that’s hardly my fault.”
“No one’s saying it’s your fault. I know whose fault it is, believe me.”
Past, Present and a Future (Going Back) Page 17
