He’d picked up a couple of sleeping bags after the fire. There wasn’t any electricity, so lights and cooking were out unless he wanted to go the campfire route. He’d had enough smoke and flames for a while.
But there had been one unexpected turn of events. An insurance representative had dropped by on his way to church this morning and told Clint that his house was covered and temporary housing would be provided within forty-eight hours. His mother had set up automatic payments for the insurance and the taxes from her bank account. Clint hadn’t even realized she had an active bank account. He doubted there was much, if any, money left. He’d have to look into that in a few days. Mainly he was just astounded that the guy from the insurance company would even bother to let him know. Maybe there were still a few good folks left. He damn sure hadn’t expected to find any in this town.
The sound of a car door closing put him on alert. He set his coffee aside and stood. Probably Ray, dropping by to see if he needed anything or maybe to arrest him for beating the hell out of Baker and Medford last night.
Not Ray.
The SUV parked in Clint’s driveway, next to the remains of his mother’s house, was Emily’s.
What was she doing here? The idea that she wasn’t at church with her folks surprised him. She’d always gone to church before, good little girl that she was. Too good for him.
She got out of her SUV and looked around; the uncertainty in her movements made him want to stay in the shadows of the barn and just watch. He doubted she would come out here. She would look around the yard, take a few steps from the driveway, maybe call his name, and then she’d leave.
If he was smart, he’d let that course play out.
Evidently he wasn’t so smart. He stepped out of the shadows, allowing her to see him. Some part of him was drawn to her that way, always had been.
Her gaze collided with his and he felt that connection as surely as if he’d grabbed hold of a live wire. Clint steeled himself. Judging by the fragile expression on her face, he wasn’t sure he could deal with whatever she had to say.
Even he had his limits, or so he’d learned recently.
“I need to ask you a question.”
Nohello, nogood morning, just straight to the point. The stupid side of his brain that had deep down hoped she’d come to tell him that she’d been wrong all along sent a ripple of disappointment through him.
Clint called upon every ounce of the hard, bitter strength he’d found doing ten years in prison. “So ask.” His voice was sharp and challenging. He couldn’t afford to feel these crazy emotions.
“Will you tell me the whole truth about what happened that night? Don’t leave anything out.”
She had to be kidding. “What’s the point?” That she would even ask annoyed him unreasonably.
“I need to know.”
The pain in her eyes told him she wasn’t playing.
He gestured to the interior of the barn behind him. “You’ll want to sit down for this.”
She followed him into the shadows of the barn but didn’t sit. “I’d prefer to stand.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his rigid shoulders to relax them, and decided the abbreviated version was the best route to take. “Fairgate told me to take Jenkins’ car for leverage. I waited until well after dark, dressed to fit in, and went to do my job.” He pressed her with a look that showed he didn’t care if she judged him. “It was what I did, and I did it well.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
A flare of surprise that she would admit as much caught him off guard. He looked away from her. “I heard screaming from your house and I did what I had to do.”Biggest mistake of my fucking life.“I picked the lock on the front door and rushed through the house until I found your room. I knew which end of the house it was on, so I—”
“How did you know?”
He blinked, startled again at her reaction. “What do you mean?”
“How could you be sure about where my room was?”
The way his mouth dehydrated forced him to lick his lips. She watched the movement and wet her own. That his entire body reacted didn’t help his ability to focus.
“I’d driven by your house a thousand times.” He shrugged. Sounded mental. So what?
“Why?”
His pulse started to hammer, making it hard to catch his breath. “Because I was stupid,” he snapped, hoping to clear his head. “I wanted to get a glimpse of you.” He exhaled a lungful of frustration. “I saw you and Heather climbing out that window one night.” The memories were as vivid in his mind as the night he’d watched them happen. Summertime, hot like now. He would never forget the way Emily had looked in those pink shorts and tank top. “The two of you sneaked to the next block and met up with more friends. I followed you to the theater.”
