Page 97 of Nowhere Good

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” he murmured, and the call ended.

Seth tucked his phone into the pocket of his pants and traded it for a pack of smokes. He stared at the box and flipped it over in his hands. He’d already had one half an hour ago, assuming it’d help his headache, but it didn’t. He should really quit, but after the day he’d had—

A ticking sound stopped him before he could take a cigarette out. In the parking lot below, Claire approached the motel on her bike, her hair flowing past her. He put the cigarettes away. When she spotted him, he waved and forced a smile. She forced one back and hopped off her bike.

Nerves pinched inside him as she trotted up the staircase until they were face-to-face, alone outside his motel room. She’d gone home and showered since the hospital; her face was bare and shiny, and the smell of her sugary shampoo carried on the wind. She’d changed into a new pair of ripped denim shorts and a navy camisole, tight against her slim figure. As always, beautiful enough to make his chest ache.

“Hi,” she said, stepping toward him.

“Hey.” He leaned against the railing. She joined him, and the smell of her body lotion, like cucumber or whatever it was, made him want to breathe her in. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.

She rested her hands on the railing and gazed at the parking lot. “Clementine woke up for a bit, but she’s sleeping again now. I got away to shower and throw my clothes out. I never wanna see that outfit again.”

“I don’t blame you.” He paused. He dreaded this conversation, but it had to happen. “I had a chance to talk to your father at the station earlier.”

“So I’m told. He came by the hospital after and filled us all in.” She laughed sarcastically, but the pain on her face told another story. “He was suddenly real chatty about this necklace he had on him. Apparently, my mom never left the house with it the day she went missing, and my dad’s actually been carrying it around this whole time. Ain’t that convenient timing to bring something like that up.”

Remembering Ron’s bullshit pissed Seth off all over again. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

She laughed again, but tears blurred her eyes. She held them in. “No. I think at some point, Clementine told him I saw the necklace, so he came prepared. He’s covering his tracks, like he always does.”

“How can you expose him for the necklace if he’s already come forward with it himself, right?”

She nodded. Silence fell over them. He leaned forward on the railing, crossing his hands over the other side, breathing in the air as another strong gust of July wind blew in.

“I keep thinking about what Trevor said,” he mused. “About how your dad gets away with everything.”

“Well, I hate to agree with a killer,” Claire said glibly.

He wanted to touch her hand, to comfort her, but he held back. “It’s not over yet. If Trevor’s death was a homicide, I can get the warrants I need to dig deeper. Cell phone records, GPS data, ballistics, things like that. I already have a strong case as to why your dad could be a suspect.”

Something felt different. There was an air of defeat around her, like she’d lost all hope, and he hated that. “You won’t link it to him. If he did have Trevor killed, he probably got someone else to do the dirty work for him. If he’s dealing drugs, he would’ve trashed all the evidence by now. There won’t be anything to arrest him for.”

“Hey.” This time, he did touch her. She sucked in a breath when he rested his hand over hers on the railing. He looked into her eyes so she’d know he was serious. “I’ve had to build cases against guys who think they’re untouchable before. They always make a mistake.”

“Trevor was his mistake,” she whispered.

He gripped her hand tighter. “Then I’ll find another.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with her free hand. “But you’re leaving.”

Her words slapped him with reality.

You’re too close to this.

Way too close.

Because he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do more than that.

He wasn’t sure when she’d gone from just a pretty girl to the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He had to turn away.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s all right.” She slipped her hand away, and he immediately missed her skin beneath his palm. She turned back to the staircase. “You’ve got a life to get back to. I do too. I should head out.”

Choked up, he said nothing as she trotted away from him, but when she was halfway down the stairs, he snapped out of it. He didn’t want her to leave. He ran to the stairway and called down, “Claire.”

She barely looked at him, trying to hide her tears. He hated seeing her in pain; all he wanted was to make it better.