Page 81 of Nowhere Good

“Possibly.” Seth took the final bite of his sandwich and rolled the wrapper into a ball, then tossed it in the paper bag the restaurant had given him. It had hit the spot. “You okay to eat in the car? I need to get on the road ASAP.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, and they both got into the car. He didn’t wait to start the drive. As much as Seth would like to sit and enjoy his time with Claire, he was too close to the truth. Slowing down now wasn’t an option.

But the road to Fairview to drop off Claire—then to Belleville—was a long stretch before him. The craving for a post-food cigarette itched at him, but he spared Claire the smoke while she ate in the passenger seat. He kept the windows rolled up and the AC on as he drove just slightly above the speed limit.

“Maybe you can help me hash out a timeline,” he said, and Claire nodded. “Let’s say Trevor’s at the farm around the time your mom dies, stays there until you’re twelve, then leaves. Maybe he ends up at Belleville, maybe somewhere else, but either way, he’s been gone from Fairview for at least twelve years. Why come back now? What’s changed?”

Claire thought on it. She poked at her food with her plastic fork. “I’ve been thinking… when you asked if my dad ever encouraged my relationship with Dillon, you were right. Maybe my dad had been keeping Trevor on the hook all these years, like telling him he could be with me or Clementine. Clementine had Sullivan six months ago—maybe Trevor found out. Clem can’t keep her life off Instagram. Anyone who wants a peek has a free ticket to the Sully Show.”

“Ah. So your father kept feeding the delusion until Trevor found out Sullivan was born.”

“Wouldn’t put it past my dad. Especially if Trevor had some dirt he needed to keep quiet…” she trailed off. “Do you think he really did it? Like, could my dad have killed my mom?”

“I think he’s been holding back information for a reason. Whether or not he actually killed your mom, honestly, I don’t know. That’ll be a separate investigation.”

“You mean you won’t be working on it?”

“It’s Fairview’s jurisdiction. The only reason I’m on this one is because Chief Wells asked Kansas City for backup. There’s no guarantee I’d be kept on for a cold case.”

“Oh.” She looked down, her hair covering her cheeks. He’d gotten used to seeing her profile like this—downcast and so pretty, it almost hurt to look. He focused on the road. “I hope it’s you,” she murmured.

A strange pull at his chest. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to be the one to see this through. “Why? I’ve never worked a cold case.”

“Guess I’ve gotten used to having you around.”

Her words stirred something in him. He had no idea how she felt about him as a person, had no idea if it was even possible for her to feel something for him.

And besides, technically, she was taken.

“At least I solved one case,” he said. “Your relationship with Dillon. Never made any sense to me.”

Claire laughed once. She chewed on a hunk of pancake, then swallowed it. “My dad wants us together. He thinks we’re all ‘family.’ Even if Dillon’s a no-good cheater.”

Bitterness rolled off her tongue, but he couldn’t tell how deep those feelings went. He hated the idea that a guy like Dillon Beamish could make anybody, let alone her, feel less than anything.

“You know he didn’t cheat because of you, right? It’s not like you’re missing anything.”

She flashed him a sardonic smile. “That’s sweet of you, but I am lacking in one area.” She looked down at her chest, and Seth’s eyes followed. She wore a yellow tank top, tight against her skin, showing the slight curve of her breasts, no bra. She looked perfect to him. If Seth had a girl like her at home, he’d never want to stop reminding her how pretty she was in his eyes.

No, not a girl like her.

Her.

His attention was only off the road for a flash, but she caught him looking. Shit. That had not been his most professional moment.

But it was just like him to want something he couldn’t have.

Claire didn’t seem to mind, thankfully; she had a twinkle of amusement on her face. “I’m joking, by the way. Dillon likes what he likes. It hasn’t destroyed my confidence, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She smirked impishly and swayed toward him. “I’ll have you know the drunks at the bar think I’m quite the catch.”

He laughed. Somehow, even with what she was facing, Claire still found a way to smile, to find humor in her own tragedy. He admired that about her. “Yeah… Dillon’s crazy.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have eyes, that’s all.”

Too bold, he chastised himself. He was one comment away from hitting on her. And that would be even less professional than checking her out.

A satisfying blush painted her cheeks. She tucked her chin into her chest. “Well, thanks. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism, but I decided a while ago I wouldn’t let Dillon’s preferences hurt my self-image too much.”