Page 82 of Evidence of Deceit

She sat down and took one of his hands in hers. “That’s what I want to speak with you about.” She exhaled. “I have to go back to New York to finish some business with thelawyers. I’ve decided to sell the house, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do, stay here or move up north.”

Joe sat there, stunned. Yes, the hints were all around him, but to hear her say what she was going to do still stunned him.

“Move?” He jerked his head back and shivered. Yeah, the evidence was right in front of him that she was packing. Still, hearing the words made it real.

“Not sure. I’ll figure it out when I get to my parents’.” She cocked her head. “What do you think?”

Think? I think this is a terrible idea. I need you. I want you.

“You have to do what you think is best for you.”

What else could he say? She needed to grow, to find her way in the world. Not have another man tell her what to do, what to feel, how to live. She was free to choose, free to love, and free to be the woman she wanted to be with the man she chose to love.

She needed to go back to New York to reclaim her life, her self-respect. He wasn’t going to stop her. Then, maybe, when all was said and done, she would come back to him. Or not.

“Well,you have to do what you think is best for you.”

Well, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. What she hoped to hear was that Joe loved her, wanted her to stay or move in with him. “Do what you think is best for you” was not the answer she wanted. What was wrong with the man? Didn’t he realize how much she needed him, wanted him, loved him? He was her first love, and here they were, making the same mistakes they made when they were young—sacrificing for each other—not talking it through. He sat there stoically, and she wanted to shake him.

However, she did have to go back to New York. Carl Fitzgerald had called her about signing some final papers. She wanted to visit her parents and sister. She was definitely selling the beach house. Too many bad memories of Hillary trying to kill her here.

Good memories too. The first place to call her own. Joe making sweet love to her in the bedroom. Her studio with its gorgeous view. But she could paint anywhere. She wanted to be with Joe. She loved his sweet ranch. She loved seeing him there. Why couldn’t he see that? She’d loved him all these years, and he was still beyond her reach. He still felt he was unlovable.

Claire sighed. She was going to be gone for a while, and she hoped Joe would come to his senses and know that she loved him and wanted him. If he thought he was letting her go, he would be in for a surprise. I won’t let that happen again.She would make sure he came to his senses one way or the other. His actions told her that he loved her. Why couldn’t he just say the words? Why did he have to feel that he wasn’t worthy of love?

Chapter Forty-Seven

“So, what’s got your panties in a wad?”

“Sweet, Mark. You have such a way with words.”

Joe and Mark were hanging out at Mark’s house, talking, drinking, playing video games. Claire had been gone a week, and Joe was miserable. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Just drank and sat around. He wasn’t on a case, so he had time to spare to think. And think. And think.

Sam was coming over later, and he hoped to be out of here before then. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face. It was apparent she wanted to tell him he was a jerk but held her tongue.

“Hey, guys, I’ve brought chicken.”

Joe groaned. As if his life couldn’t get any worse. Sam walked in with Marlee right behind her.

Marlee came over, hugged him and giggled. Life had just gotten worse.

“Hello, Mr. Grumpy-pants, I see that you are your usual happy self,” said Marlee.

“Always happy to see you, Marlee,” he said. He usually was. The petite woman, who was a tad shorter than Sam, whowas short herself, was one of his favorite people. He and Marlee bonded when he was helping Ben protect her from a murderer who was chasing her. Feisty, outrageous sometimes, loyal to a fault, that was Marlee.

Sam just looked over and pursed her lips.

“Whaaat?” He threw his arms up.What did he do wrong this time?The women in Sam’s group were always giving him a hard time.

“What? You’re asking what?” She turned to go into the kitchen. Marlee followed. Mark started laughing.

Joe turned to Mark. “What did I do this time?”

“Well, I think you blew it with Claire, and now her friends are pissed at you.”

“What do you know?” He punched Mark in the arm. “Tell me.”

“I’ll tell you,” said Sam. She and Marlee came in carrying plates of food. “You let Claire go to New York. Now she’s planning on staying there for good, and we’re royally pissed.”

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