Chapter 31
To Do:
- Send Father’s Day card to Roy
- Gallery rehearsal
“You’re distracted today,”Sawyer said as he held a punching pad in front of his body.
Claire threw her weight into the next hit, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She bounced on her toes, delivering a solid right hook. She grunted. “Can’t imagine why.”
“Come on, harder,” he encouraged as she threw a jab. “That’s more like it, I felt that one.” Despite his words, his mountain of a body didn’t budge an inch. “Want to talk about it?” he asked, voice lowered.
“It’s probably more of an after-class kind of discussion,” she said, nodding at the blinking security camera in the corner of the practice room.
“Understood.”
Claire unloaded all of her frustrations into the next punches—frustration with Luke, anger with her father and herself. Unbridled rage at the press.
“Whoa, killer. You’re going to wear yourself out. Slow and steady,” Sawyer said.
“You’re giving conflicting messages.” She glared at him and blew a flyaway hair from her eye.
Rosie yawned in a corner and rolled onto her back, watching curiously as Claire beat the crap out of the punching bag.
“All right, that’s enough for today. Your form is improving,” Sawyer said, releasing the bag.
“Is it really? Or are you just saying that because my life is in shambles?” Claire tugged her hair from its ponytail. Honeysuckle shampoo warred with pit sweat.
“Both,” he said, cracking a smile. “Froyo?”
“Definitely.”
The three of them left the building, blinking in the sun after the windowless practice room. It was in the 80s today. Sweat dampened the back of her neck. The dreaded back sweat had returned. At least this time, no one would be erotically pressing their body against it.
Rosie trotted along happily, chasing discarded coffee shop napkins and wrapping herself around Claire’s ankles.
“No wonder you trip so often,” Sawyer noted.
She shoved him. “She lacks focus.” Her phone beeped, and she reached for it, expecting an email from Mindy with the finalized catering menu from the gallery proposal. Aaron, at least, had understood Claire’s explanation of the news article. She stopped when she saw Sawyer’s side-eye.
He sighed. “It’s ok, check your email. I’ll keep an eye out. But tell me what’s going on.”
She glanced suspiciously over her shoulder. “Is this a pop quiz? Is that guy reading the sports section at the bus stop going to jump me?”
“No, but nice observation skills.”
“That’s nothing. I’ve been practicing. There’s a pregnant woman wearing yoga pants pushing a double stroller, but there’s only one kid in the stroller. There’s a watermelon wearing a diaper in the other seat. And then there’s the little old lady pushing a rolling grocery cart with an unusual number of green beans, but not the right bulk to be anything dangerous,” she said without turning her head.
“Wow. You don’t need me anymore. See ya,” he said, abruptly turning off down a side street.
“But froyo!” she called after him. He came back seconds later, laughing.
“Enough deflecting. What’s really bothering you? Are you worried about next week?” Sawyer asked.
Claire stared at him blankly.
“Interrogating Barney? In prison?”
“Oh, no. Not that. I mean yes, obviously I’m worried about that. I’m still not sure that he’ll give me anything of value and his buddies could be kidnapping women left and right for all I know. More things to weigh on my conscience.”
He raised his eyebrows and kept staring at her.
She sighed. “It’s Luke.”
“Surprise, surprise. How was he after your discussion yesterday?”
Claire tugged Rosie away from a discarded hotdog. “He apologized. We talked. But then he said something that really bothered me.”
“What’s that?”
“He thinks you are somehow involved in my kidnapping and the stalking situation,” she said, shooting him an apologetic glance.
Sawyer stopped walking. “What?”
She tugged Rosie to the edge of the sidewalk, allowing a stream of business people to pass.
“He pointed out that you were in the building the night I got the first note. And that Sanctum was conveniently in charge of the security at the Heirloom Hotel. I told him he’s crazy. We had video footage of the first intruder, the second note arrived in Paris, and you were with me for the third. I told him to stop being crazy. Honestly I think he’s just jealous of the time we’re spending together.”
Sawyer’s expression did not lighten.
“For the record, I know you have nothing to do with what’s going on. I already Googled you. You weren’t in ESA.”
He started walking again. “You’re right. I was never a frat boy. What does Luke think about the whole ESA thing?”
“I haven’t exactly told him about it.”
“Hmmm.” Sawyer took a moment to scan the surroundings. Was he expecting to see Luke hiding behind a minivan?
“He hurt me,” she continued. “Like more than I thought it was capable to be hurt by someone, especially after what I went through with Jason. I know it’s stupid and immature, but I’m really enjoying keeping a secret from him for once. I’m actually inviting his estranged brother to dinner at my house on Friday. He accepted last night. Anyway, speaking of secrets, tell me about the redhead in all those pictures in your house.”
The girl’s identity had been a constant question in her mind since she had stayed over.
He didn’t respond, so she glanced at him.
A black hole seemed to have opened in Sawyer. The light was gone from his eyes, his jovial smile was gone, and he tripped on the sidewalk. She had never witnessed him trip before. Oh, hell. She had somehow made things even worse.
He was quiet for almost an entire block. Claire remained patient, tugging Rosie along behind them. He was still headed in the direction of froyo, so at least he hadn’t changed his mind about their plans. All she could do was wait.
“Her name was Laura,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets despite his no-hands-in-the-pocket rule.
“Was?” Oh crap, was she dead?
“Well, is. I assume. We dated for three years, and on the night I was going to propose, she dumped me to go study penguins in South Africa.”
“Well, that’s just next-level shitty,” Claire said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to touch his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Sawyer shrugged. “It doesn’t help that I have a daily reminder of her every time I look in the mirror.” He lifted the hem of his shirt. Three long, wide scars slashed his midsection. Right, the scar. She had seen it when he dashed into her kitchen naked but promptly forgotten about it in the wake of the large naked man in her personal space.
“Please tell me she didn’t attack you.” Did Sawyer have some kind of kink?
“No, nothing like that. I was hiking a few years ago. Ran into a black bear. Tried to escape up a tree.”
She hit him on the shoulder. “Never try to escape a black bear up a tree! They can climb.”
He sighed. “That’s what she said too. She was a forest ranger. She chased it away and somehow managed to piggyback me back to the ranger station.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open. “That’s the best meet-cute I’ve ever heard.”
He shrugged. “It’s too bad it amounted to nothing.”
She shook her head. “Do you still hike?”
Sawyer shook his head. “I’m more of an urban explorer now.”
“Guess it only takes one bear attack to ruin the woods for good.” Claire wound the leash around her wrist just in case a black bear came lumbering down the street to snatch her dog.
They finally arrived at the frozen yogurt shop. Sawyer got their orders while Claire waited outside with Rosie. Since her stalker was getting progressively more ballsy, there was no chance of her tying her up outside businesses even for a minute.
She settled at a small, round table and pulled a binder from her purse. Maybe it wasn’t smart to openly read her bedazzled cult binder in broad daylight on a busy sidewalk. But if they were watching her, she wanted them to be scared.
Sawyer set their cups on the table. “Find anything new last night?” He nodded at the binder.
“Nothing really. I did another deep dive on Google, but the only thing that comes up for ESA is their shining track record for GPA requirements and community service.”
What she really wanted was to break into the frat house on Venor’s campus and surveil them, but something told her Sawyer wouldn’t approve.
“I ended up spiraling into some pretty terrible forums full of woman haters,” she continued. “Maybe it’ll give me some psychological ammunition to poke at Barney, but it was not the healthiest way to spend two hours.” She yawned. “However, thanks to your meditation techniques and barricading my bedroom door, I didn’t sleepwalk across the state last night. I did wake up in the closet wearing a barmaid costume from last Halloween, but better there than Hazelton.”
Sawyer nodded. “That’s an improvement. What was the sleepwalking snack du jour?”
“Half a protein bar that may or may not have been expired.” Rosie stiffened at her side, and Claire glanced down.
“Hello, Claire,” came a deep male voice from behind her.
In a flash, she was standing with her keys threaded through her knuckles.
Jack Hartley stood a couple feet away next to a waist-high planter, hands in his pockets. He clearly hadn’t taken Sawyer’s self-defense classes.
“Oh. It’s you.” She dropped her keys and glanced behind her. Sawyer had picked up the entire table they were sitting at and held it like a battering ram. He set it back down with a gentle clatter.
Jack took a step closer. His eyes flashed up and down the street. “I’m worried about your routine.”
She raised her eyebrows. “My routine?”
“Every Wednesday for the past three weeks you go to Sanctum, then you come here for frozen yogurt. You’re being too predictable. It’s dangerous, especially considering your current troubles.”
How the hell did he know that? Was he keeping tabs on her?
“I’m pretty sure you lost a say in my personal safety habits about twenty years ago, Jack. And stop spying on me. Sawyer, let’s go.”
“See you Friday,” Jack called after her.
She fought the urge to flip him off. “Who does he think he is?” she grumbled to Sawyer when they were half a block away. “He ignored me for twenty years and then thinks he can come back and boss me around. Not today, Satan. I might even put laxatives in the lasagna. Happy freakin’ family dinner.”
Claire’s phone rang, and she glanced down. It was her mother. “Do you mind?” Sawyer nodded.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, darling. Is your father bothering you?”
How could she have possibly known? Was she enlisting help from Brian, the PI she had hired to follow Claire during the height of the Widowmaker hysteria? Claire glanced in every direction, but the Red Sox-cap-wearing PI was nowhere to be found. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since she had inadvertently gotten Jason arrested on suspicion of being the Widowmaker. To be fair, though, Mindy had almost assaulted Brian in an alleyway because she thought he was following Claire. He was probably screening Alice’s calls.
“He is, as a matter of fact,” Claire conceded. A niggling thought that had been on her mind for a week tumbled out. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Did you by any chance hide like fifteen years’ worth of birthday cards he sent?”
There was silence on the other end. Sawyer shot her some serious side-eye. Claire held her breath. Her mother had only just forgiven her for withholding information on her current stalking situation. Perhaps it was unfair to delve into this family chapter so soon afterward. But wasn’t it hypocritical of Alice to hide something like this?
“Yes, I did.” Alice’s voice was breathy with a tinge of sadness. “I’m sorry about that, Clairebear. I may have taken your father’s betrayal a bit too hard and forcibly prevented you from having a relationship with him.”
A loud sob burst out from the other end of the call. Claire shot a pained look at Sawyer. Great, now she had made her mother cry. Was she seriously feeling guilty because her mother cried after hiding all evidence of her father reaching out to her during her formative years?
“Mom, you know that’s not okay. That should have been my choice.” This was shaping up to be the most emotionally exhausting week she’d had since she was brutally stabbed.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t want you to get hurt like I did.”
Claire sighed. “Mom, can we talk about this later? I have a meeting to?—”
An explosion rocked the street.
Glass shattered in storefronts, and Claire hit the sidewalk hard, then rolled to cover Rosie, who quivered in panic. Sawyer hit right next to her. Car alarms whistled. Her ears rang like a thousand gongs had just been rung.
What was it? A gas explosion? A wall of fire was climbing ever higher a block down. She climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her knees and palms were scraped to hell. Everything was muffled.
“Are you okay?” she asked Sawyer. Her voice was muffled, as if she was underwater. He was still on the ground.
He nodded and clutched his heart.
She took one look at the shattered storefronts and picked up Rosie. The dog burrowed her snoot in Claire’s hair. Her entire body was shaking.
“Come on, we have to see if we can help.” She put out a hand for Sawyer and helped him up.
She jogged across the intersection and down the next block. The explosion must have happened right next to Sanctum. What if Sawyer’s staff had gotten hurt? What if?—
Oh, hell. She stopped in her tracks. Smoke roiled from a burning carcass of a vehicle directly outside Sanctum. The vehicle was in the same spot she had parked her Audi an hour ago.
Sawyer put a hand on her shoulder. He pointed to the sidewalk.
“You’re dead, Claire Hartley,” was scrawled in still-wet spray paint.