Every Vow She Breaks (30 page)

“You’re right.” Her eyes darkened. “I don’t want to ruin our evening together or this meal. How’s your fish?”

“Excellent.”

He made a funny story out of his early morning encounter with Daisy’s bad breath while they finished their dinners and was relieved when Claire smiled. She’d been tense to the point of breaking all day and needed time to unwind. The one topic neither broached was their declaration of love on the beach. The feelings were too new—too fragile—and needed to be treated with care.

Stabbing the last fry into ketchup, he pushed his plate back and picked up the bill the waitress had left on the table. “Finished?”

She nodded. “I ate way too much, but the chowder was too good to waste. I’m ready to go back to the campsite and collapse. It’s been a long day.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” Standing, he pulled out her chair then took her arm as they crossed the room to the entrance. After paying the cashier, he pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Claire shivered. “It’s cold. Damned seagull.”

Wrapping his arm around her to help ward off the chill, he headed toward the SUV. “I’d forgotten about your close encounter with the avian bomber.”

“I didn’t. I—” Her cell phone trilled from inside her purse. She glanced up, blue eyes changing to cobalt. “There’s absolutely no one I want to talk to right now. Present company excluded.”

“Then ignore it.”

She sighed. “What if it’s Officer Edelman with news? I’d better answer.” She pulled out her phone and frowned at the display.

“Hi, Theresa. What’s up?”

Claire listened for a minute, her face losing some of its color. Jed bent closer but couldn’t hear what the woman was saying.

“No. Thanks for calling me. I’ll let the police up here know the man has definitely left the area.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. No, I’ll be okay. Jed’s here. I’ll talk to you when I get home.” She stuffed the phone back in her purse.

“What happened?”

“My stalker is back in Shady Bend.”

He rested his hands on her shoulders. The moon had risen while they ate and shed all too revealing light over lines of pain etched in her face. He wanted to touch them, somehow erase the creases. Frustration simmered, but he wouldn’t lose control again. Damn it to hell, he’d be the rock Claire needed.

“That psycho spray-painted words on the front door of my great-aunt’s—my house.”

His grip tightened.

“‘Broken vow. Broken heart. Payback’s a bitch.’ That’s what it said. Ouch!”

“Sorry.” He loosened his hold. “How did Theresa find out about it?”

“The contractor forgot some tools he needed for another job and went back to the house around six to get them. He found the painted message on the door and called the police to report it. Theresa said he tried my cell, but I didn’t answer so he called her. It must have been while I was showering before we left for the restaurant. The timing is right, and I forgot to check my messages.”

Her voice was calm and steady, but a fine tremor quivered through her.

He pulled her closer. “Let’s go back to the motor home. You can make any necessary calls from there.”

She nodded. When they reached the SUV, she stopped then glanced up at him. For a brief moment, her composure cracked. “Is this ever going to end?”

“Hell, yes, it’ll end. Soon, Claire.” He stroked her cheek, a gentle caress. “Can’t you feel it? The guy is coming apart at the seams. The only thing that’s going to be broken is him.”

* * * *

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Claire scrubbed the stained jacket in the sink of the campground’s restroom. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away. Exhaustion from a mostly sleepless night combined with anger and fear had stolen the last of her strength. Jed was absolutely the only thing keeping her from a complete breakdown. As it was, the urge to wallow in self-pity ranked right up there beside a burning desire to kick the guy tormenting her right in the—

“Claire, are you okay in there?”

She glanced into the mirror at the sound of Jed’s voice. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” With the water turned off, she squeezed the moisture from her jacket. Hopefully the bird poop wouldn’t leave a stain. Not that a ruined coat was the worst of her problems at the moment.

Jed and Scoop waited outside the restroom. Holding the flashlight beam steady on the path, he led the way back to the RV. Once they were inside with the door shut, he pulled her into his arms. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

“Want to go to bed?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“We haven’t talked much about—”

A sharp rap at the door interrupted him.

“What the hell?” He released her, stepped to the window then pulled the curtain aside.

“Claire, it’s Mateo—uh, Officer Hernandez. I have news.”

Jed dropped the curtain and scowled. “He couldn’t have picked up the phone?”

Pushing Scoop out of the way, she opened the door. “Come in.”

The young cop filled the entrance. Claire stepped back and ran straight into Jed’s chest. One arm came around her. Hernandez’s gaze dropped then rose to meet hers. A resigned smile tugged at his lips.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know the police in Shady Bend took a suspect in for questioning regarding the spray-painting incident.”

Relief washed over her, leaving her weak with thankfulness. “They found the man?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s
wonderful
. Who is he?”

“Your ex-husband, Ian Rutledge. Police discovered him on your property a couple hours after the vandalism was reported. He denies having anything to do with it, but—”

“I don’t believe it.” Claire felt for the edge of the table and dropped onto the bench seat. “Ian might do something stupid in a fit of anger, but this deliberate, planned attack isn’t his style. Anyway, he’s a busy man. He wouldn’t have had time to follow me around taking pictures for the last five years.”

Jed rested a hand on her shoulder. “For the most part, months separated the dates for each photo. Rutledge would have vacation time and sabbaticals for research or whatever. Look how long he’s been hanging out in the woods hunting for a Bigfoot.”

“The authorities in Shady Bend will look into his whereabouts during the times the pictures were taken. They’ll be taking over the active investigation.” The officer’s gaze held steady. “I thought you’d be happy with the news.”

Her shoulders lifted. “I want the harassment to stop, but not like this. I don’t want it to be Ian. At one point we were…close.” An ache in her chest made drawing a breath difficult. “I never thought he was responsible. Despite how our relationship ended, I can’t believe he’d want to hurt me.”

“Doesn’t seem like this creep believes he’s hurting you. In some warped way, he loves you and obviously wants you back.” Hernandez shifted, his cheeks coloring. “I can understand a man being completely infatuated with you. You’re—”

“Involved with me.”

The cop glanced at Jed. “Maybe that’s what pushed him over the edge. If this guy wants to marry her, seeing you constantly at her side has to be a hell of a blow.”

Claire frowned. “I still don’t think the person who planned all those notes and gifts, who took those pictures, was Ian.”

“Then why was he on your property?”

“What reason did he give the police?”

Hernandez rolled his eyes. “He said he was pissed because the cops had questioned him earlier about his whereabouts after your motor home was vandalized. He claims he went to your house to tell you to get them off his back because he’d had a near breakthrough in the woods and didn’t want any distractions. Claimed he didn’t know you weren’t home.”

“Now
that
sounds like Ian. Full of demands. Focused on his work.” She looked up at Jed. “Do you suppose he actually saw a Bigfoot? Seems pretty unlikely.”

“If he’s the one who left those pictures, he’s batshit crazy. Who knows what he imagines he saw.”

“Ian may be obsessed, but he isn’t insane.”

“Obsessed with you.” Hernandez’s comment left silence in its wake. Finally he turned toward the door. “I’ll go. I’m sure the police in Shady Bend will be in contact once you arrive there.”

Claire rose on unsteady legs. “Thanks for coming by to tell me about Ian. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Good-bye, Claire.” He paused with his hand on the knob. “The authorities will focus their attention on Rutledge. In case you’re right and he isn’t guilty, watch yourself. The freak who’s after you may be getting desperate…and dangerous.”

Jed stepped up to put his arm around her. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Good.” The door slammed shut behind him.

He let her go then pushed a hand through his hair. “Well, that was interesting.”

Stepping over Scoop’s prone form, Claire brushed past Jed to sit on the edge of the bed. “Interesting isn’t the word I’d choose. Horrible.” Her stomach churned, and she wished she hadn’t eaten all that chowder. “Sickening.”

“Why?” He sat beside her, his thigh pressed the length of hers.

“I’d rather it was Blue the Stoner or my old editor or my eighty-year-old neighbor in Marin…anyone but a man I once cared about. I’m not that bad a judge of character. I would know if Ian was unbalanced because that’s what this pervert is. Whacko. Looney tunes. Or, as you so colorfully put it, batshit crazy.”

“You haven’t spent time with him in years. Fifteen or so, right? He might have changed.”

“Another point in favor of Ian’s innocence. Why would he wait ten years to start taking pictures of me? It makes no sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. Unless he didn’t wait. Could be he just pinned up the most recent photos.”

She jerked back. “
That’s
what was bothering me. Something kept niggling at the back of my brain. Just because the oldest picture was from five years ago doesn’t mean the man didn’t take more before that. He could have a whole stash of photos he didn’t use.”

“So then you do think it could be Ian?”

She bit her bottom lip. “I won’t believe it’s him until I catch him mailing out wedding invitations or booking a honeymoon. The point is, the guy responsible could be someone I knew ten years ago or twelve or whatever, not necessarily the five we focused on. That’s a lot of old neighbors and co-workers, along with maybe a couple dozen different men I dated once or twice over the years.”

“It would take the police a long time to check out every man you’ve ever been in contact with. And since they have a perfectly good suspect right in Shady Bend…”

Claire let out a long breath. “They won’t even bother.”

He picked up her hand to squeeze it. “Where does that leave us?”

“Screwed.”

Claire bumped down the driveway and braked her motor home to a stop beside a battered green truck with a lumber rack. Leaning on the steering wheel, she studied the front of her house. No spray-painted message on the door. She’d been dreading the first glimpse for the last hundred miles or so. Her brows knit. No paint period. Someone—undoubtedly the contractor she’d hired—had sanded the front door down to bare wood.

Jed pulled up behind her in his SUV and got out. Setting the brake, Claire released her seatbelt and stood. Scoop waited beside the door, his body quivering. When she opened it, he shot through, barking and running in circles, apparently thrilled to be home.

“That’s a relief. No spray-paint, and look, the porch steps have been replaced.”

Sliding an arm around her waist, Jed pulled her close. “The contractor did a nice job on them. I wonder who told him to remove the message.”

“Probably Theresa. She knew I was upset.”

“I hope the police approved it first.”

Claire glanced around the quiet yard. “I guess we should ask. Vern must be around somewhere.”

They found him in the backyard, booted feet propped on a rock while he ate a sandwich. His weathered face creased in a smile as he rose from a lawn chair at their approach.

“Theresa said you’d be back this afternoon. I’m glad I finished the door first thing.”

“I appreciate it.” She shook the hand he extended. “Vern Edwards meet Jed Lafferty.”

The older man gave Jed an up-and-down look. “I’ve already had the pleasure.”

“That’s right. You discussed repairs.”

Jed glanced toward the plank and ladders set up across the rear of the house where about half the rotted shingle siding had been replaced. “Are you working alone?”

“No, I have a couple of boys helping me. They went into town for lunch. Me, I prefer to enjoy the view.”

“I thought you had to work at another job today?”

He hitched his jeans up over scrawny hips then turned to face Claire. “The lady postponed. Anyway, I wanted to scrape off the graffiti. I talked to the police chief, and he said it was okay. They took pictures and whatnot last night. The story circulating through town this morning is they caught a guy lurking around the property. One of those Bigfoot fanatics. Didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him, so they just took him in for questioning.”

Claire stuffed her hands in her sweatshirt pocket. “The police released him?”

“As far as I know.” He glanced down at the open cooler beside the chair. “I’d better finish my lunch before those boys get back.”

“We’ll leave you to enjoy it. The place is looking great. Thanks, Vern.”

“You bet.”

Jed walked beside her around the house. “He seems like a good man, bright and capable even if he isn’t exactly a spring chicken.”

“Vern’s seventy, but the
boys
working for him are in their twenties. He came highly recommended.”

“You have to like that about small towns—everybody knows everyone else’s business, but they’ll give you the honest truth when you ask for an opinion.”

Claire flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Not to mention jumping in to help out. Bet even if his other client hadn’t cancelled, Vern would have been here at dawn to sand that door.”

“Probably. Speaking of lunch, I’m starving. Do we still have food in the motor home?”

She nodded. “If you’re okay with tuna sandwiches. I need to go to the store later.”