“Jared Davis is one of my best investigators. He’s originally from L.A., has lots of experience. He visited Weaver first thing this morning. Weaver claims he was home all that night and his wife backed him up.”
“She’s lying,” Isaac said.
“A distinct possibility, but it might be hard to prove. We’re checking with the neighbors to see if they saw him coming or going, but with the three-hour drive he would’ve left before it was unusually late and returned in the morning, especially if he stopped for coffee or breakfast after being up all night. Nothing that would make anyone question what he was doing.”
“So that’s it?” Isaac said. “This is going to end up another big mystery, like what happened to Claire’s mother?”
Myles clearly didn’t appreciate that comment, but his experience showed. He’d talked to other victims over the years, understood their impatience and anger. “Investigations take time, Isaac. I’m going to get this bastard. You have my word on that. And there is—”
The waitress appeared with their sodas. “Your dinners will be right out,” she said, and hurried off again.
Myles went back to what he’d been about to say. “There is one other thing—an incident worth mentioning.”
The seriousness of his tone put Claire on full alert. “What’s that?”
“I got a call from Herb Scarborough yesterday.”
Herb managed Mountain Bank and Trust—the only bank in town. “What does Herb have to do with anything?” she asked.
“On his way home from work, he saw a car weaving all over the road day before yesterday and followed so he could find out who it was. He planned to call and report the driver, but he was a bit surprised by what the guy did next.”
“Which was…” Isaac prompted.
Myles’s resistance to accepting Isaac became obvious again when he kept his gaze on Claire. “He went to the Petroglyphs Campground, circled around, found a site that was hidden from the others and lit a fire in the fire pit.”
Isaac scowled. “Isn’t that what a fire pit’s for?”
At last, Myles shifted his attention. “This guy wasn’t camping out. He wasn’t going to eat. And it was only about four in the afternoon so he didn’t need a fire for light.”
“Why was he doing it?” Claire asked.
“He wanted to destroy something.”
Isaac slid his Coke out of the way. “Who wanted to destroy something? Did Herb ever get a look at this man’s face?”
“He did. He said it was Donald Salter.”
“He didn’t recognize the car? Both the Jeep and the Impala are distinctive.”
“Yeah, but someone else could’ve been driving. He wanted to be sure.”
Considering Don’s drinking problem, Herb should’ve been able to figure out who was behind the wheel. “Don’s an alcoholic. There’s no telling what he might do.”
“That’s what I thought.” Myles clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward. “Until I heard the rest.”
Claire stiffened in expectation. “Go on.”
“Herb parked back in the trees and watched Don burn some papers. It seemed odd, given the time of day and everything, so after Don drove off, he went to see what, if anything, was left.”
Isaac had been rubbing his chin as he listened, but at this point he stopped. “Did he find anything besides ashes?”
“The stuff in the pit was destroyed. But there were a couple of sheets that’d blown out before they were too badly burned. They were stuck in the trees. When Herb saw what they were, he brought them to me.”
Claire could scarcely breathe. “And? What were they?”
Myles lowered his voice. “David’s notes on your mother’s investigation.”
“That means they came from my house! So…did he steal them? What would he want with them? And why would he burn them?”
“All good questions,” Myles responded.
Isaac had just pulled in to get gas when Claire’s mother-in-law walked out of the mini-mart. Rosemary O’Toole spotted Claire the second she looked up, so there was nothing Claire could do, even though her first impulse was to avoid any interaction, at least while she was with Isaac. She already knew how Rosemary was likely to react. David’s mother said she wanted Claire to move on, and would eventually be willing to accept someone else in Claire’s life, but she didn’t want another man to take her son’s place too soon, especially a man as controversial as Isaac. That would cause a dramatic change in focus for the whole community, pushing David a little more decisively into the past.
Claire could understand why she’d feel that way. Claire felt the same loyalty to David, and even some fear of what might happen if she really let go of the one constant in the past twelve months—her pain at her husband’s loss. She didn’t need Rosemary’s disapproval making all of it worse.
Isaac didn’t seem to notice her sudden tension. If he’d seen Rosemary, he hadn’t thought anything of it. He got out and started to pump gas while she approached Claire’s side of the vehicle.
“Oh, boy,” Claire breathed. They’d just left Myles at the diner. Her mind was completely preoccupied with Don Salter—whether or not he was the person who’d trashed her house and stolen those files, or if he’d come by them through a third party, which opened up a whole host of other questions. She didn’t want to think about David. She’d spent a year crying over his death, was just beginning to come out of that dark period. The last thing she needed was an awkward or painful encounter with his mother.
But she stepped out of the truck, anyway, to give Rosemary a hug.
“Hi, Mom. How are you?”
Rosemary didn’t return the hug. She suffered through it, then lifted her head, causing her chins to wag. “I’m fine. Except that you haven’t been returning my calls.”
Claire should’ve contacted her this week. Normally, she kept in close touch. “I haven’t even received your messages. My life’s been crazy. First, there was that incident at the studio. I’m sure you heard about that. Then someone broke into my house. We still don’t know who or why. And the fire… I don’t know what’s going on.”
Rosemary’s eyes cut Isaac’s way. He now realized she was there. Claire knew because he was looking over at them. “Maybe it’s the company you’re keeping,” Rosemary muttered.
Here we go… “Isaac has nothing to do with what’s happening,” she said. “As a matter of fact, he saved my life.”
“But he wouldn’t have had to do that if you hadn’t been at his place, sleeping with him, to begin with.”
This was turning out to be a frontal assault; Claire hadn’t expected it to be this bad. She’d seen David’s mother upset before, but never so livid her lips quivered and her voice shook. “Rosemary—”
“I was Mom a moment ago.”
“You were Mom until you started acting as if you don’t care about me,” Claire snapped.
“I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t care. Someone needs to talk some sense into you. If you won’t listen to your own parents, or your sister, who else is there? Do you think David would want to see the woman he adored with a man like him?”
The fact that she’d used David to shore up her side of the argument stung, even though Claire should’ve seen it coming. “David’s not here to give his opinion,” she said.
“But you can’t really be satisfied with someone of his moral character—” she motioned to Isaac “—after being married to my son!”
Claire thought of when she’d told Laurel she’d never really liked Isaac. She’d regretted making that statement ever since, and not only because it was a lie and had possibly hurt him. She was a coward. Maybe he’d never be able to love her the way she loved him. Maybe they wouldn’t wind up together, as committed as she’d been with David. They were just beginning whatever their relationship would be and couldn’t predict the future. But she was going to have the guts to own up to what she felt, regardless of how it all ended.