Page 465 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“That sounds…lonely.”

She shrugged. “I can be. But I also enjoy being sheriff. I like having the control to make sure cases are worked thoroughly. If Stephanie’s disappearance had been properly investigated, then Faye might be alive today. I wouldn’t be in this trouble.” She picked up her mug of coffee and took a long sip. “Have you heard anything about the private detective Faye hired?”

“I spoke to my colleague Weston this morning. Michael hasn’t been seen or heard from since the night of Faye’s murder. They’ve issued a search warrant for his cell phone, hopingto track his location that way. In the meantime, every law enforcement officer in the state is searching for him and his car.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“I am too.”

Claire set her mug down. “It’s clear I’m the killer’s target. The best way to protect Jacob and my parents is to stay away from them as much as possible. I’ll sleep in my cabin starting tonight and he can stay here with my parents for the time being.”

She was dreading the separation from Jacob, but her feelings didn’t matter. Her son had almost become collateral damage. Claire couldn’t allow that to happen again.

Gavin wiped his mouth. “I’ve received permission from Lieutenant Rodriquez to have a trooper stationed outside the house 24 hours for their protection. It’ll start this morning. Additional troopers will do extra patrols in the county. Coupled with your own deputies, it should prevent any attacks on your family.”

She tried not to focus on the word should in his sentence. Nothing was guaranteed. All Claire could do was her best and then give the rest to the Lord. He certainly hadn’t left her alone in this. Gavin was here.

Without thinking, Claire reached out and placed a hand over Gavin’s. His skin was warm under her palm.“Thank you, Gavin. For everything. I’m glad you’re here.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Something akin to electricity arced between them. The touch she’d meant to be friendly somehow morphed into something else altogether. Gavin’s thumb traced along the ridge of her knuckle. Heat coursed up her arm.

She couldn’t move. It struck Claire that this attraction she was fighting…Gavin was feeling it too. Suddenly, it all felt very dangerous. Like wading into quicksand.

She wasn’t ready for this. Especially not now, with everything else going on.

Gavin seemed to sense her conflicted thoughts. He released her hand, and she pulled it away. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Claire wasn’t interested in a relationship and it wasn’t right to make Gavin think she was. The threats on her life were wreaking havoc with her emotions.

She licked her lips. Her throat felt impossibly dry. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand. That was inappropriate. It won’t happen again.”

“Claire—”

A knock at the back door cut Gavin off. Relief washed over Claire. She didn’t want to have a complicated conversation about navigating their relationship. As far as she was concerned, they were friends. Professionals. That’s how she wanted to keep it.

Gavin rose, his hand on the holster of his gun. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” Claire rolled her eyes. “But killers don’t usually knock. Stand down, Gavin. Let me see who it is.”

She peeked into the mudroom. The top of the back door was glass, giving her a view of the stoop. A man wearing grease-stained coveralls shifted in place. It took Claire a moment to remember his name. Her dad had hired him as a repairman for the property last week.

“It’s safe, Gavin. It’s one of our employees.” Claire walked to the back door and opened it. “Travis, hi. How are you this morning? Please come in out of the cold.”

“No, thank you, ma’am.” Travis removed his ball cap. A shock of red hair created a sharp contrast with his pale skin. “Actually, you should come outside with me. There’s something you need to see.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gavin surveyed the destruction inside the boathouse. Storage cabinets, doors hanging precariously on damaged hinges, leaked fishing lures. Broken fishing rods were tossed in a heap. Life jackets had been ripped apart with a knife, the insides left trailing across the concrete floor. Spray paint decorated everything, except for the boat floating in the water nearby.

Ryker arched his brows. “Someone was angry.”

“With me,” Claire said from her position on the opposite side of the cabinets. She had her arms wrapped around her midsection, but her expression was hard. She jutted her chin toward the wall in front of her. “Check out the message the intruder left.”

Gavin stepped around a few destroyed items. The toe of his boot sent a fishing bobbin skittering across the concrete. He inhaled sharply as the words spray-painted across the wall came into view.

If you want to live, Sheriff, then quit. Leave town.

Ryker huffed out a breath. “Direct and to the point.”

“Whoever did this took his time.” Gavin bent to examine the twisted lock on the storage unit. The door had been pried openwith force, probably with a crowbar. “And he’s strong. How did he do this much destruction without being noticed by anyone? There were deputies paroling the property the entire night.”

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