Scene of the Crime: Killer Cove. Carla Cassidy

feel a physical attraction to him that she’d never felt before. Still, that wasn’t what had driven her to seek contact with him, to invite him into her home. She had an ulterior motive.

      A low rumble of thunder seemed to pull him out of his head. He focused on her and offered her a small smile of apology. “Sorry about that. I got lost in thoughts of everything I need to get done before I leave town.”

      “I wanted to talk to you about that,” she said.

      He raised a dark brow. “About all the things I need to take care of?”

      “No, about you leaving town.”

      “What about it?”

      She drew a deep breath, knowing she was putting her nose in business that wasn’t her own, and yet unable to stop herself. “Doesn’t it bother you knowing that Shelly’s murderer is still walking these streets, free as a bird?”

      His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you so sure I’m innocent?” he asked.

      Claire had never had a problem speaking her mind or sharing her thoughts, but she found herself reluctant to truly answer his question, afraid that he’d think she was silly, or worse, the loony tune she already suspected he thought she might be.

      “I’m three years younger than you and Shelly and I know it sounds crazy, but I was in love with your love for each other. You two were the shining example of what I wanted to find for myself someday. I watched you walking the streets, hand in hand, having ice cream outside the ice cream parlor.”

      The words tumbled out of her, as if the more she spoke the less he’d think she was nuts. “I saw the way you looked at her, Bo. I know the reputation you had in town as being a caring, gentle soul, a loving son, and I don’t believe there was anything Shelly could have done that would have resulted in you hurting her.”

      Bo stared at her for a long moment, his eyes a darker shade of blue than she’d ever seen them. “Thank you,” he finally said. “And of course it bothers me that her killer has never been brought to justice.”

      “It bothers me so much I carry pepper spray everywhere I go,” she said. “I try to be inside the house with the door locked after dark.”

      Bo took another drink, his gaze not leaving hers. “What does all this have to do with me leaving town?”

      Claire uncurled from her position and moved closer to him. “I don’t think you should leave town. I think you should stick around and prove your innocence.”

      Bo laughed, the sound deep and rusty, as if he hadn’t laughed in a very long time. “You are out of your mind.”

      “I don’t think so,” she protested. “You know that at the time of Shelly’s murder there wasn’t really a thorough investigation. Law enforcement focused on you to the exclusion of anyone else.”

      “Shelly’s case is a cold case that nobody is working because they all believe I did the crime. I can’t imagine Trey or Ray agreeing to reinvestigate it just because I’m back in town,” Bo said.

      “You’re right,” she agreed. “They wouldn’t lift a finger to help you with any unofficial investigation, but I would.” She saw his dubiousness in his eyes and quickly pressed forward. “Think about it, Bo. We don’t even know if the sheriff and his men interviewed any of Shelly’s friends after her death. I don’t believe they did much of anything, but you and I could talk to people, see what they remember about Shelly’s life at that time, who might be a possible killer.”

      “It’s a stupid idea.”

      “Maybe it is, but isn’t it worth giving a little time to see what we might stir up? Wouldn’t you like to prove your innocence to all the people who doubted you?”

      Bo took a drink and sat forward. He placed his glass on the table and raked a hand through his slightly unruly hair. He glanced toward the window where the rain had stopped.

      “I need to go home. You’ve got me half looped and considering things that shouldn’t even enter my mind.” He stood and she did the same, wondering what it might take to convince him that staying in town and fighting for his reputation would be worth it.

      Of course, she’d spent years trying to convince her father to put down his bottle and be a real dad because she was worth it, and that certainly hadn’t worked out.