Gull Harbor (21 page)

Grabbing her fork, she cut off a large bite of eggs. She was going to need all the strength she could get today.

****

Claire fidgeted nervously outside her father’s chambers. Her palms were damp, and she brushed them against the skirt of her sundress. She’d tried to dress as conservatively as possible for this unscheduled meeting. It shouldn’t matter to her what the judge thought about her appearance, but old habits were hard to break. Plus, she needed him to take what she said seriously.

“Ms. Linden,” the receptionist said, interrupting the somber silence. “The judge will see you now.”

Rising from the chair, she fought to keep the startled expression off her face. She hadn’t been sure he would agree to meet with her at all. But she’d told his receptionist to tell him that his daughter was here, and that she wasn’t leaving until he found some time in his schedule to discuss an important family matter.

The receptionist opened the door to the judge’s chambers and stepped back to allow Claire to pass. She took a deep breath, releasing it quietly as the door clicked behind her.

Her father regarded her stonily from behind his massive oak desk, not bothering to stand up. Silence filled the room as she struggled with how to greet him after all these years.

“Hello,” she settled on. She had no desire to call him “Dad” or even “Father.”

He nodded, his face framed by his severe black robes below and a shock of thick gray hair above. “Well,” he finally said, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You must have forgotten how much I dislike unexpected disruptions.”

Her muscles tightened defensively. “I remember. But I didn’t think you’d allow me to make an appointment, and I needed to speak with you about something.”

He motioned toward the leather chair set at an angle to his desk. “Let’s hear it. I’m a busy man, Claire.”

I’m sure you can’t wait to get back to judging people,
she thought wryly. But what she said was, “I’ll stand.” Then she hesitated another moment, not quite sure how to begin. “I’m with Max again,” she finally said.

He regarded her with contempt. “I suspected as much after he called here last week. I sincerely hope that’s not what you came to tell me. If it is, you have my congratulations on your foolish desire to repeat the same mistake twice.”

Anger bubbled up inside her, mixing with the persistent doubts that had suddenly surfaced to feed off his words. But she refused to take the bait. She hadn’t come here to defend Max, or her life decisions.

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I only brought him up because since we’ve…reunited, he’s told me about what happened five years ago. I know why he left that way now.”

He shrugged his robed shoulders. “As a judge, I can tell you with certainty that there are two sides to every story.”

Her control snapped. “Well, his version of events is the only explanation I ever got. And I believe him.” She closed her eyes for a moment to clear the haze of red. “All I want is for you to be aware that I know all about your…ultimatum. So if that’s the reason you won’t let Mom go—” She broke off, twisting her fingers nervously.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice deadly cold.

“If you’re afraid she won’t cross over because she wants to tell me about Max, well, that’s no longer a concern. There are no more secrets. You can remove her feeding tube.” Her voice wavered as she repeated her plea. “Please, just have them take it out. Let her go.”

His face grew thunderous. “I’m not going to play God with your mother’s life!”

The rage returned, hot and bright. “Why not?” she asked bitterly. “You have no problem doing it with everyone else!”

He glared at her, his eyes blazing before he regained his cool composure. “That’s enough. See yourself out, Claire.” Turning to his papers, he dismissed her.

She whirled toward the door, pausing as she gripped the knob. “I left my contact information with your receptionist. In case you decide to do the right thing.” She left without looking back.

Chapter 28

She glanced in her rearview mirror in the parking lot of the tavern
. I look about as good as I feel
. After leaving her father’s chambers, she’d managed to hold herself together long enough to get to her car before the tears broke free in a shuddering rush.

When she was spent, she’d mopped her face and driven to see her mother. “I’m sorry,” she’d whispered over the lifeless body. “I tried.” A few remaining tears had slipped from her swollen eyes as she kissed her mother goodbye.

Opening the car door, she dragged herself out reluctantly. She’d considered going straight home, but she knew what was waiting for her there. Besides, she thought Max might worry about her if she didn’t at least stop by the tavern.

She smoothed the cobalt cotton skirt of her dress as she crossed the parking lot. Her hair was gathered in a French twist at the nape of her neck, and she pulled at the clip, allowing her curls to tumble around her shoulders. The door of the tavern stood open, and she tried to arrange her features into a serene expression while she scanned the room in search of Max.

He wasn’t fooled. The minute he got close enough to see her red-rimmed eyes, he wrapped an arm around her and steered her into his office. He didn’t speak until the door was firmly shut. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she said. His look of concern caused a lump to form in her throat. She fiddled with the long silver necklace that had once belonged to her mother as she fought to control her emotions. “I went to see my father, to ask him to take my mother off life support.”

“God, Claire,” he whispered, drawing her into a tight embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going?” His voice held a sharp edge of disapproval.

“I thought you might try and stop me.”

“You’re damn right I would have. At the very least, I would have gone with you.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “I know you would have. But this is my problem to deal with.”

He stroked her hair. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

“Not really. He said he wasn’t going to play God with her life.” She attempted a derisive laugh, but it turned into a sob.

“I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Me too,” she murmured, sliding her hands into the space between his jeans and his lower back. Suddenly desire raced through her veins. Heady warmth began building between her legs, demanding release. All she wanted was to lose herself making love with Max.

She bent her head back, lifting her mouth to his, kissing him hungrily. Her fingers moved around his waist to the button on his jeans. When she pulled his zipper down, he broke the kiss, closing his hands over hers.

“You’re going to put me past the point of no return in a minute,” he warned gently. “You’ve had such a rough day—we need to get some food in you.”

“That can wait,” she insisted, kicking off her heels. She slipped her hands out of his grip and curled them around his neck as her lips moved along his jaw line.

He groaned and tried one more time. “You should at least sit down.”

“That’s an idea. Over there looks good,” she added, gesturing toward his desk. She jumped up, leaving him no choice but to catch her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” he said, carrying her to the desk and setting her down. “But I’m not going to argue anymore.” He pushed her skirt up and yanked her panties off.

“Good,” she replied, her voice husky. She lifted her hips, clasping his shoulders as he drove himself into her.

Each thrust brought her further from reality, closer to ecstasy, and she threw her head back and surrendered to the pleasure. She came violently, her back arching as she shook with the powerful contractions.

Max’s final strokes were exquisite torture against her sensitive skin; he came deep inside her, burying his face in her hair. They remained tangled together, breathing heavily, until the din of the crowded restaurant beyond the office grew louder than their pounding hearts.

“Is there any chance that door is locked?” she mumbled.

“No. I wasn’t really expecting this.” He laughed softly, nibbling on her ear. “You’re full of surprises. Really, really great surprises.”

“So,” she said, uncrossing her ankles from around his waist. “At any moment, someone may walk in and catch you with your pants down, literally.” She pointed her toes to loosen the tight muscles of her calves.

“Um, you’re in a bit of a compromising position as well,” he pointed out playfully. “We had better not press our luck.” He stepped back and tugged his jeans back up.

“Are you coming by tonight?” She accepted the panties he handed her with a smile.

“The selfish part of me wants to. But after last night and today, I really think you need to get some rest.”

Her doubts crept forward, like hungry predators, their claws ready to tear holes in her momentary contentment. She pushed them away, keeping the smile on her face. “Okay, that’s probably for the best. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Count on it,” he said, capturing the sides of her face with his hands and kissing her firmly. “Meet at Dan’s in the morning?”

“Sure.” She jumped down from the desk, aware his blue eyes were studying her expression. “Where are my shoes?” she asked, casting her own gaze to the floor.

His eyes narrowed further at her absurd question. “Right here,” he said, motioning to the pair of heels lying in the middle of the office floor. “I know what you’re thinking, Claire.”

“I’m trying not to think it. Really.” She slid her feet into her shoes. “It’s just that my dad said some pretty nasty things.”

“I can imagine,” he said, his tone glacial.

A trio of knocks sounded on the door. He raised his eyebrows at Claire. “I’ll be right out,” he called. Turning to her, he reached for her hand. “Do you need me to come tonight? I will. I’m just afraid we won’t end up sleeping much.”

She shook her head. “No. You’re right—I’ve had a rough day. And there are probably some crazy dreams in store for me tonight as well.”

He led her toward the office door. “I hope at least some of them are about me,” he said, flashing her a grin as he motioned her through the doorway. “Now, how about you go sit at the bar and have a glass of wine, and I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“Would it be rude to ask for a carry-out box? I really am kind of exhausted.”

“You got it. Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

****

She’d realized Maria had different plans for her as soon as she’d walked in the door. Miniature piles of leaves and sticks, similar to the larger one in the spare bedroom, adorned each step of the staircase. More piles marked a path through the living room, and Claire followed it, her carry-out food in hand. “Someone’s been busy,” she mumbled.

The sticks and leaves continued to the kitchen, leading to the back door. She stared at the mess as she sat down to eat her meal. Was it supposed to mean something, or was it just more random decorating by a frustrated ghost? She left the debris and headed up to bed, Maria’s presence hovering anxiously.

Now she lay in the darkness, waiting for sleep to take her. Waiting for the inevitable visions to come. Squeezing her eyes shut, she relaxed her body and mind.

The creak of the stairs invoked the usual fear; her panic rose with each groan of the floorboards. But this time, she could see the bad man on the staircase, carrying a lifeless young woman in his arms. She followed him as he made his way to the kitchen, grunting under the weight of the limp body. The kitchen door was ajar, and he staggered out into the darkness and dumped the woman in a waiting wheelbarrow.

Horror bled into her confusion as she stared down at the crumpled body. Her own pale face stared sightlessly back at her. Then it was gone, covered by a dark blue tarp the man draped over the pathetic figure.

She felt insubstantial, lost. And somehow torn, as though she were being pulled in different directions by two unseen forces. There was no time to try and fully comprehend what was happening. She ignored the path that led to comfort—somehow she understood there was no way to help her family if she chose to let go. Instead, she floated above her concealed body, determined to at least try to stay tethered to the only thing that seemed familiar.

The man took a furtive glace around, peering into the inky blackness that cloaked the surrounding woods. Seemingly satisfied, he piled a flashlight, a shovel, and a knife on top of the tarp, then picked up the wooden handles and began to push the wheelbarrow into the night.

Chapter 29

Claire had woken from last night’s terrible vision with a heavy heart and a savage headache. But a word had been rattling between her temples along with the pain, and she’d scrambled to find her notebook in the moonlight. After jotting the word down, she’d reached for the ibuprofen and water she’d left on the nightstand before she’d climbed into bed.

Now she typed the unfamiliar word into a Spanish translation website as she sipped coffee at the diner’s counter.
“Bosque”
she murmured to herself, clicking the enter button.

The translations popped up on the screen of her laptop:
Woods or Forest
. “Oh my God,” she breathed. The piles of leaves and sticks in the spare bedroom—Maria had replicated her unmarked grave in the room where she’d died. She’d even formed a trail to the back door last night, following the path her body had taken out of the house.

Claire dropped her forehead in her hand. How could she have not put it together? “She’s been trying to tell me this all along,” she moaned.

“What’s that?” said a voice from behind, as a kiss landed on the back of her exposed neck.

She jumped, even though both her body and mind were immediately aware it was Max, meeting her as planned.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, dropping onto a stool beside her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. But you were talking out loud—I thought you saw me.”

“I was wrapped up in my thoughts.” Her hands searched for something to occupy them, and she released her hair from its clip and wound it into a tighter twist. “I didn’t even hear the bell ring above the door,” she added, securing her curls again.