In Close (Bulletproof #3)(71)
Author: Brenda Novak

About halfway in, it struck something hard.

23

Although he was still out searching, Isaac had been checking his messages every fifteen or twenty minutes. That was how he finally reached Claire. She said her car was banged up, that she had a broken window and a dented fender, but she was okay and waiting at his house.

He’d been so worried she’d met a grisly end, it took him several seconds to believe the nightmare was really over. He was standing at the pay phone he’d stopped to use, the one outside the Kicking Horse Saloon, his forehead resting against the cool metal long after they’d hung up, when he heard a voice behind him.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

Preparing himself for a confrontation—the tone of the man’s voice certainly suggested there might be one—he turned to face Tug.

“Excuse me?”

“All that crap about David being killed.” Tug looked strung out on stress—judging by the pallor of his skin, the hair that stood up and the way his hand kept twitching. “Don’t you realize you’re only making things worse?”

“Claire’s fine. I just talked to her.” Isaac thought that would handle the situation, but Tug’s response surprised him.

“I heard. Myles spotted her as soon as she drove into town. He pulled her over and radioed for dispatch to call me. But it’s no thanks to you that she’s okay. You’re getting involved in something that’s none of your business. I suggest you let it go.”

“I’d rather not have this conversation.” Isaac pivoted and headed toward his truck, which he’d had to park in the overflow dirt lot because the bar was so crowded. He wanted to get home so he could hear what Claire had to tell him. She’d said to hurry—and he saw nothing to be gained by arguing with her stepfather.

“Maybe that wasn’t a suggestion.”

Isaac stopped. Did that make it a threat? “Do you have something to hide?” he said, turning back.

“I just don’t like you meddling in my family.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“You’re not good for her. We’ve asked you nicely to stay away. Now I’m asking you not so nicely.”

Isaac folded his arms. “Or what, Tug? You’ll hire someone to kill me like you did David?”

His mouth popped open. “You son of a bitch! How dare you accuse me of murdering my own son-in-law!”

“Maybe it wasn’t you, but it could have been. Someone hired him. There were at least ten calls between various pay phones in town and Les Weaver’s home in Coeur d’Alene during the weeks before David’s death. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Myles. I went over the records with him today.”

“So? Maybe he has friends here. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Not after he told me he didn’t. Not after he said he’d never been here and knew no one in the area.”

A man and a woman left the bar, but were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t seem to notice the drama playing out near the pay phone.

“When did you talk to Les Weaver?” Tug asked.

“Just a few days ago.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Check with Myles, like I said.”

His hand plowed through his hair along the same well-worn path he’d obviously created earlier in the evening. “But…why would anyone want to hurt David?”

“You’re really going to ask me that?”

“So what if he was looking into Alana’s death! What are the chances he’d find anything? The police couldn’t even figure out what happened to her.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “Why can’t we just leave the past in the past?”

“Because it has too much bearing on the present.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“The truth is coming out, Tug. If, for some reason, you don’t want that, you need to be prepared.”

“Stay out of it, Isaac. None of it concerns you.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid Claire finally has the support she needs to uncover the truth?”

He made a dismissive motion. “You have no idea what’s best for Claire.”

“And you do?”

“I know you’re not the man for her.”

“I think that’s Claire’s decision, don’t you?” Isaac climbed into his truck, but he thought about those words the whole ride home and couldn’t help wondering…was Tug right?

Just in case any of it ended up being crucial evidence, Isaac used tweezers to handle the objects spread out on his kitchen table.

Claire paced by the window, waiting for his reaction. “So? What do you think?”

The encounter he’d just had with Tug jumped into Isaac’s mind. He hadn’t mentioned it to Claire, hadn’t wanted to make a bigger issue of the fact that her family disapproved of him. He hated acknowledging the conflict he’d caused, partly because he didn’t want her to believe, as they believed, that he’d let her down, and partly because he feared they’d turn out to be right, despite his good intentions. Considering what he was sorting through, however, he now saw Tug’s threats in a much more sinister light.

“I think your stepfather could be in trouble,” he admitted.

A pained expression crossed her face, and she looked away, probably to hide how hard this was for her. Regardless of what Tug had or hadn’t done, she loved him, couldn’t stand the thought that he might have murdered her mother. But Isaac didn’t know what else to make of the documents Joe had provided. A letter from Tug threatened to kill Joe if Joe didn’t leave his wife alone. Another letter, written by Alana to Joe, confessed her love and the guilt she felt, which confirmed the rumors Claire had always denied. Then there was a ring made out of ribbon. Joe said Alana had teasingly made it for him one afternoon, and Claire acknowledged that her mother had made similar ribbon rings for her and Leanne when they were children.

Most incriminating of all were the pictures of Joe and Alana together. One strip of black and white photographs featured them kissing in the kind of photo booth typically found in a drugstore or old-fashioned grocery. They must’ve been in Libby or somewhere else when those pictures were taken. Pineview didn’t have a booth like that—and they wouldn’t have risked being seen.

Isaac felt awkward being privy to Claire’s pain and all the reasons for it. Not only was she trying to cope with the gut-wrenching sadness of receiving confirmation that the man who’d raised her had a strong motive for murdering the mother she missed so badly, she had proof of her mother’s infidelity. Then there were the calls between Coeur d’Alene and Pineview, and what Myles had found when he ran the background check on Les Weaver. Although Les had never been arrested he had ties to one of the most powerful Mafia families in New York—people who didn’t bat an eye at murder for hire. Myles had even placed a call to the NYPD and learned that Weaver had lived in New York and was suspected of racketeering. They hadn’t been able to prove it, but they were trying. That was probably the reason he’d moved west four years ago, when his brother got out of prison after being convicted of fraud and had also relocated to Idaho. It was his way of lying low.