Shallow Grave. Karen Harper
She wanted to stay here rather than go home before, wanted to be here where they were living their dream.”
“Your dream too,” Lane said under his breath as Brit opened the door to the smaller room and tiptoed in, closing the door behind her.
Jace felt torn about Lane. He came off as a self-centered, snobbish SOB, yet maybe Brit had been Daddy’s golden girl. Lane hadn’t taken more than a few steps into the room. He hadn’t hugged his sister. He sounded much more angry than grieved.
And, Jace thought, as the two of them stared at each other, though he was no forensic psych like Claire or a law genius like Nick, hadn’t this guy just spewed out at least two things that would suggest Ben Hoffman’s death wasn’t an accident? That maybe Ann Hoffman—Brit too—had benefited from his demise financially, and Lane himself emotionally?
* * *
Though it had been a hellish day earlier, Nick broke out a bottle of congratulatory champagne to toast Bronco and Nita. Claire and Gina kept fussing over her engagement ring.
“Pretty, huh?” Nick overheard Heck ask Gina. “You want one like that?”
“Maybe someday,” she told him with a tight smile and a toss of her dark hair.
Nick liked Gina, their Cuban refugee. She was bright and perceptive, which he was used to in Claire. Gina had picked up on the fact that Claire was wavering with exhaustion and had taken over hostess duties, insisting Claire stay put and telling the radiant Nita this was her special night and she should sit still while Gina brought in the goblets for Nick to pour the champagne.
Then Gina put dishes in the dishwasher while Claire and Nick said good-night to the newly engaged couple.
“So romantic, so bonita in the moonlight by the gazebo he built,” Nita was telling them at the front door.
Nick had his arm around Claire’s waist, in a way propping her up. He had to get her late-night meds into her, get her to bed. But he should have known his sweetheart had insisted on walking Bronco and Nita to the door for a special reason. He wasn’t surprised that she brought up a plan they had discussed recently.
“Nick and I would like to offer our gazebo, backyard and home for the wedding, if you want,” Claire told them.
“Right,” Nick put in. “You two talk it over and let us know. Or, if you want to be married in a church, the reception could be here. Just if you want—no pressure either way.”
Nodding madly, Nita started to cry again. “Lexi, she can be a flower child,” she told them.
“Flower girl,” Bronco whispered, his arm around her waist. “It would be a great honor—a great gift to us, but we buy the food and drinks, sí? If you two would stand with us, best man and best lady of honor, it could be here. You both already been so good to us. We’ll say yes now, ’cause we got reminded today that life can be over fast, bad things hit people they don’t see coming. Joy in life comes to you, but maybe teeth and claws too.”
As Claire and Nick went back inside, Nick said, “Pretty profound from Bronco.” Heck and Gina were heading toward them, holding hands. They said their goodbyes, then, when they were finally alone, Nick told Claire, “Now let’s get you to bed.”
“You’ll take the case if they ask you, right? It will be cut and dried, obviously an accident.”
“Just don’t you get involved. Obviously is a dangerous word in the practice of law.”
“And for forensic psychs who need to rely on observations, not feelings. I’m just so tired I’m not thinking straight—obviously.”
He kissed her, locked the front door behind them and led her toward the master bedroom, thinking with relief that there could not possibly be another day like this one.
Claire stepped into the room that had bars all around it. She was trapped and afraid. Ahead in the cage were two identical doors. She had to protect herself, save Lexi and her new baby. Where was Nick?
The bigger question was—where was the tiger?
Her mother was reading a story out loud to her called The Lady and the Tiger. The tiger was behind one of the doors, and Nick was behind the other. She was being forced to choose by the king in trial by ordeal... If she chose the door with Nick, she was safe. If she chose the one with the tiger...
She heard a rumbling roar, but where did it come from? She was certain she had seen the tiger kill someone already. Why did Mother always have to read them books for adults when they were little? Some were scary and hard to understand. Why did she bury herself in books after Daddy left? Their parents had let her and Darcy down. Now that dead man in the cage had let his wife and children down.
But Claire loved to read to Lexi too, so maybe she was like her mother. She wanted to hide so she and her family would not be hurt anymore. They had almost been killed by a human predator, Nick’s enemy. Mother was at the end of the story, and Claire had to choose which door. She pointed toward one. At first, she was sure that Nick would come out to help her. Maybe Jace was behind the other one. Trial by ordeal...
But no—in the darkness outside their house a big cat crossed in front of her and turned toward her with burning eyes. It had clawed a man and there was blood, but then it leaped at her and she screamed...
“Claire. Claire, sweetheart, you’re having one of those dreams.” Nick’s voice. Was he behind the other door? “You cried out and screamed.”
Nick holding her. In their bed. Dizzy. Crazy. Was this real?
“A t-t-tiger...” she stammered in a whisper.
“Yes, I can see why you’d be dreaming of a tiger, but it’s not real. You were just having a narcoleptic nightmare. You’re here with me. You’re safe. Maybe you’d better go back on your regular meds, not try to get by on those herbal teas.”
“I just got off the timing today, with everything that happened.”
He sat up with his back against the headboard, pulled her to him and held her tighter with his chin on the top of her head as she nestled against him, her face pressed to his warm neck.
“Then for sure we’re not getting involved in this,” he said. “We’ll take the flowers and food to Brittany and her mother tomorrow, but I’ll pass the case on to someone else at the firm, if they still need help.”
Her head began to clear. The image of the animal, the fear began to fade. Yes, they were in their bedroom. She could see the wan glow of the nightlight from their bathroom. Safe here. Safe in their new home. Still, she held on to Nick even tighter.
In a stronger voice she told him, “But if Brittany and Ann still need help, especially if there’s a question of whether it was suicide, that’s what you do, give help. And me too. I help you.”
He kissed her damp forehead and smoothed her tousled hair back from her face. “You do help me. You—Lexi too—are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will protect you both with my life. The new little one too,” he added, and his voice broke as he put a gentle hand on her rounded belly.
Her head was clearer now. Clear enough to know that, despite her horrid dream, Brittany and Ann were the ones in a cage and they had to help them.
* * *
Sunday afternoon, while Jace took Lexi to the stables for a riding lesson on her beloved pony Scout, Claire and Nick took a basket of gourmet food and a big bouquet of flowers in a vase to the Hoffmans. They had called their house, but when they heard they were at the BAA, decided to go to see them there. Brittany said the gawkers and media were gone now. Claire told her they didn’t plan to stay long.
“I’ve heard that Trophy Ranch just beyond is huge,” Claire observed as they drove for several miles on the narrow