Elena frowned at the memory. “There’s a chance,” she agreed.
“We can worry about that when we need to. Ever had any trouble with him before?”
“None. I didn’t have that much direct interaction with him, and when I did, he was always nice enough to me. When I was a teenager, there were a few times when he brought my father home, and he was always nice about it.” Too nice, she thought with a trace of irritation. The kind of niceness that was really just pity. Far too many people had looked at her like that back then, if they’d acknowledged her existence at all.
Poor girl. Mother took off. Father’s a drunk.
Of course, that was a lot better than the way people were looking at her now, she thought, as a grim smile touched her lips. She’d never imagined a day when being Ed Reyes’s outcast daughter would seem like a step up to her. Or maybe that was the natural progression of things in some way. She’d turned out to be the bad seed her disreputable beginning had always made them think she’d be.
“So there’s no reason to believe this is personal for him and he’s not just trying to do his job.”
“Not for him, no.”
“But for someone else?” he concluded. “The deputy?”
“Travis is—was,” she corrected with a wince, “Bobby’s best friend. Was ever since they were little kids.”
“No wonder he’s gunning for you, if he thinks you killed him.”
“It probably doesn’t help that he never liked me to begin with.”
“Why not?”
“He didn’t think I was good enough for Bobby. But then, most people didn’t. After all, he was a Weston. His great-great-grandfather was one of the founders of this town and Bobby’s family was practically royalty around here. People used to say the town should have been called ‘Weston’s Bluff.’ He was golden in this town. He could have had any girl he wanted.”
“And he wanted you.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes,” she said, her tone distant. “He did. In the beginning, at least.”
As soon as she’d said the last words, she wished she could take them back. There was too much she didn’t want to get into, things she didn’t want to explain.
But if he wondered what had changed, he didn’t ask. Maybe he didn’t want to know any more than she wanted to get into it. A tiny bit of relief pierced her uneasiness.
“Did you ever think there might be another reason one of them is so determined to pin the murder on you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What if one of them is the killer?”
The idea was so absurd she nearly laughed. “Neither of them have motives.”
“That you know of. You said nobody had a motive to kill your husband, but clearly somebody must have. After all, if you didn’t kill him, somebody did, and there had to have been a reason. You just don’t know what it is.”
He was right, of course. She’d spent more than one sleepless night wondering who had killed Bobby—and why. The first answer depended on the second, but she hadn’t had any luck answering either one, hadn’t even come up with any remote possibilities. Rather than find a solution to her situation, her efforts had merely confirmed how dire it was.
She tried to wrap her mind around the idea of Walt or Travis killing Bobby in cold blood. It just didn’t make sense, and not just for the lack of motive.
“If it were Walt or Travis, then why wouldn’t they have left the gun, or planted it somewhere they could claim to have found it? Somewhere that would have made me look bad? The fact that the gun is missing is one of the only things keeping them from making an arrest. If one of them is the killer, then that person has the gun.”
He fell silent for a moment, and she sensed him considering her words. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “That’s a good point. I’m just trying to keep an open mind. We can’t dismiss any possibility out of hand, no matter how far-fetched. We can’t afford to overlook anything or anyone, not if we want to get to the bottom of this.”
He was right, she acknowledged. This was the way it had to be. Sure, it didn’t seem like anyone had a motive to kill Bobby, but someone clearly had. Until they figured out who it was, everyone had to be looked at as though they could be the killer.
It was only fair. After all, that was how everybody in town was looking at her.
“OKAY,” MATT SAID, PUSHING himself to his feet. “You’re good to go.”
Elena glanced at the two fully inflated tires, the truck now perfectly balanced on all four. “Thank you. Let’s get out of here.”
Matt had no trouble understanding her relief. He’d had his attention on the tires most of the time since they’d arrived back at her truck, but he’d been able to feel people watching them. No one had approached or said a word. It hadn’t mattered. He’d known they were there. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.
Still, he wasn’t ready to retreat just yet. Getting her truck fixed had been just the first item on his agenda when they got to town. He had other business to take care of.
“You go on ahead,” he told her. “I want to poke around here a bit.”
Her attention already drifting to the street and their unseen watchers, she turned back to him in surprise. Not that there was any reason for her to be surprised. It was, after all, what he was here for.
As if realizing it, she slowly nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll see you back at the house.”
He waited, expecting her to turn and get into the truck. She didn’t. She simply stood there, her eyes searching his face, her expression suddenly uncertain. It seemed as though she wanted to say something else.
And in an instant, he understood.
They were already saying goodbye, so soon after meeting again after so long. The strangeness of it hit him. It had always felt strange saying goodbye to her. He’d never been quite ready to do it. It didn’t matter that they would see each other again in a little while. Or was she wondering if that was true, if she should say something, a more definitive goodbye than the last time, just in case?
This was actually a lot like the last time they’d said goodbye. They’d been on the street, not too far from here in fact. The difference was it had been night.
And they’d both had no reason to think he was ever coming back.
He was coming back, he almost felt like reassuring her. But he knew it wouldn’t matter. Some part of her still wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, any more than it ever had been. And he realized maybe he wasn’t ready, either, as the same innate sense of connection he’d had with this woman from the first moment he’d seen her clicked deep within him.
Eight years. It should have been long enough to wash away whatever feelings he’d once had for this woman. But as he peered down into the eyes staring back at him, took in her upturned face, he felt it just the same.
Whatever she might have wanted to say, she didn’t. With another tight nod, she finally turned and rounded the front of the truck to the driver’s side.
Stepping away from the vehicle, Matt watched her climb in and start the engine. He remained where he was as she backed out of the space. There was no reason for him to stay there. He needed to get going, needed to get started poking around.
But something held him in place, and he watched her drive away, the truck slowly heading down the street and fading into the distance.
“She’s