In Close (Bulletproof #3)(22)
Author: Brenda Novak

He lowered his voice. “What did he know about us?”

She didn’t want to talk about this. It was too…intimate. She nearly told him so, but she feared that would only confirm how sensitive an issue he’d been between her and David. She decided it might be less revealing to simply answer. “He knew we slept together. I don’t—didn’t—keep anything from him.” Other than the depth of her feelings for Isaac, and the fact that those feelings never seemed to change or go away.

His voice dropped even further, and this time a pained expression accompanied his words. “Is he the reason you’ve been crying?”

“I haven’t been crying.” She wasn’t sure why she was attempting to lie. The truth was all too apparent. But she hated the idea of Isaac knowing she was in such a bad state. It was stupid and weak that she couldn’t seem to get back on her feet.

She aimed to be just as tough, just as indifferent, as he was. Maybe someday she’d actually accomplish it.

“Right.” He rolled his eyes.

Ignoring his reaction, she drew a deep breath. “So are you going to give me the files?”

He pursed his lips. “I’m thinking about it.”

“I don’t understand why you’d even hesitate.”

“Have you eaten today?”

She gaped at him. “Have I…eaten? What difference does that make?” Especially to him?

“It’s a simple enough question,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s nearly dinnertime. Of course I’ve eaten.” Another lie. She’d lost too much weight in the past year. Everyone was nagging her about it, especially her best friend, Laurel, and her stepfather.

“What did you have?”

Letting go of the collar of her robe, which she’d been holding closed, she fiddled with the belt—as if it was the way she’d tied it that made her look so thin. “Again, I don’t see why that matters.”

“Then it should be easy to tell me.”

She glanced toward the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry, even now. She’d lost her appetite when David died. “Breakfast. I had breakfast.”

“Which consisted of…”

“Eggs. Oatmeal. Cereal.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I don’t know.” It all sounded terrible to her.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t eaten a damn thing.”

“So?” she challenged.

“So where’s your sister?”

“I guess she’s at home. Or working in her shop.”

“She should be here, taking care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“All I need is what you’ve got right there.” Again, she motioned to the files.

He glared down at her. “Why do you think Saint David had so much information about your mother?”

“Saint David?”

“Just to let you know I’m clear about his status.”

“You— Never mind.” She curled her fingernails into her palms. “I’m guessing he was investigating her disappearance. I’m sure you’ve looked through those reports. Isn’t that what you’d guess?”

“You didn’t know he was doing it?”

“No. He never said a word about it.”

A funny look came over Isaac’s face, a look that made her believe he was tempted to say more.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He blew out a sigh and held up the files. “How badly do you want this stuff?”

Feeling even more leery, she narrowed her eyes. “How badly do you think?”

“Badly enough to compensate me for the time and effort I put into saving it for you?”

She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her fingertips, her throat. He was taking a new direction, had made some kind of decision. “What is it you want?”

When he reached for her robe, she thought she already knew. Uncertain as to whether she could let him touch her in David’s house, she stiffened. But he didn’t make any sexual advances. He merely examined the mark he’d left on her neck. “I want the opportunity to redo last night.”

“Why? What’s changed?”

“I’ve had a chance to think about it.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

What was going on? Was he upset that she’d been able to walk away from him the last time they were together? That she’d been able to replace him with someone who treated her so much better? Or was he determined to prove he could get her back?

If that was the case, she was just as determined to prove he couldn’t.

“Not a good idea.”

“Because…”

Because being with him again would only remove another brick from the wall she’d built to keep him out. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall right back into the routine she’d had such trouble breaking the last time—only there’d be no David to rescue her and make her feel valued and loved.

“I have enough going on in my life right now. I don’t think we should see each other a second time.” She didn’t have the energy to pit herself against him. She knew he’d win. Again. She always led with her heart, which made it hard to deal with a man who didn’t have one.

He chuckled when his gaze lowered to the opening of her robe and she hurried to pull it closed. “Last night you said you were still in love with David, that what you wanted from me was purely physical.”

“So?”

He studied her. “Is that true?”

She’d die before she’d admit it wasn’t. “Of course.”

“Then what do you have to lose?”

Herself, like she had before. Without her husband, who had also been her best friend, she was already lost. What good would it do to fall into the same mess she’d made before?

And yet Pineview had nothing better to offer. Even gravity seemed to be working against her, seemed to be pulling her into Isaac’s arms.

“I’ll make us dinner,” he said.

“Don’t bother. I’m not coming.”

“I hope you do. Someone should start making you eat,” he said, and left.

8

The files contained one significant piece of information Claire hadn’t known before: Joe Kenyon didn’t have a solid alibi for the hours during which Alana went missing. Claire had always been told that Peter, his brother, had confirmed that Joe was on a job site all afternoon. According to his account and Joe’s, Joe went home for lunch at noon—Claire guessed this was when Alana and Leanne visited his house and viewed the tape—but supposedly returned to work shortly after one and stayed until five.