Page 88 of Say Yes to the Death

As soon as Jack’s car door closed, Luke and Sawyer both moved toward her at the same time.

Claire held up a hand. “Sawyer first,” she said. That was likely to be the far less messy conversation.

The vein in Luke’s forehead started to bulge out again, but he stood silently by his car.

“Did he come to ask you about the thing?” Sawyer asked in a loud whisper, crossing his arms and frowning.

Luke’s eyes narrowed.

“He did,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’m going to do it. I feel like I have a duty. I don’t want anyone else to go through what I did. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to see him ever again, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him to talk, but those families need closure. And if there really are more homicidal incels like him out there, they need to be brought down.”

“I’ll help you.” Sawyer reached out and touched her arm gently.

“Thank you. I may need it.” The hood of her car was hot beneath her back as she leaned against it. Perfect, more back sweat before she spoke to Luke. “See you for class on Wednesday?”

“Sounds good. And wear a dress this time, or an outfit you would normally wear when walking around downtown. Don’t forget to take this out before you go home.” He tugged on her ponytail.

“I won’t.” She smiled and reached up. The elastic snapped as she tugged it from her hair. Curls fell down her back, engulfing her in the smell of rose hips and jojoba.

“See you later.” He gave a small wave and climbed into his black pickup truck.

“Who was that?” Luke asked, already leaning against the hood of her car.

“That was my biological father, Jack.” Claire fidgeted with her keys. She would have rather thrown herself face-first into a cauldron of discarded bacon grease than chat with her ex about her deadbeat dad. What was it, National Asshole Day?

“Your bio-dad?” Luke stared off into the distance as though he meant to get a second look. “As in the one who abandoned you almost twenty years ago?”

“The one and only.”

“What the hell is he doing back now?” He reached through the back window to pet Rosie, who rolled onto her back and wriggled in her car seat.

Claire took a deep breath. “There’s a lot of stuff going on right now that I’m trying to deal with. He’s one of those things.”

“I hate not knowing what’s going on in your life. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you after Paris.” Her cheeks were hot and tight from sweat. She just wanted a nice shower and maybe some light murder research. Was that so much to ask for?

“Why was he here?” he probed.

“He works for the FBI. Long story short, I’m going to see Barney in prison.”

Luke blinked. “Why the hell would you do that?”

She paused. Luke didn’t know about the existence of Barney’s mysterious group. If it even existed. She didn’t owe him an explanation. He practically had a full-time job in keeping things from her. Why shouldn’t he be in the dark for once?

“For…closure,” she decided. Ha. Screw him.

“Are you sure that’s going to help? Facing him?” he asked softly, reaching out and rubbing her arm, which was covered in goosebumps despite the sticky humidity. His touch only elicited more. Ugh.

“I’m certain that it will help more than hashing it out on camera for an audience of thousands,” Claire said coolly, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and getting into her car.

She drove away without a backward glance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

To Do:

- Research interrogation methods

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