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“He couldn’t have just come running to the scene and tried to help?”
“The man confessed.”
“Right on the spot?”
“No—at the jail.” Clay’s lower jaw worked. “What is this—a test? It’s been twenty-five years. Go back and read my report.”
An image of Sara and her little brother as children flashed through Nathan’s mind. During the week before Christmas, they would have been excited about Santa Claus and shaking presents under their tree. Then the day before Christmas Eve, their world fell apart. Their father had been accused of murder and had committed suicide. What had that done to them during all the Christmases that followed?
And why had Daniel done it? Had Frank Grover quietly told him he’d be fired if he didn’t straighten up? Had Daniel been that desperate for money?
But Clay clearly wasn’t interested in rehashing the past. Nathan gave him an easy smile. “Sorry. I guess seeing that pretty Hanrahan gal in town got me thinking about her background, that’s all.” He tipped his head toward the board. “Your turn?”
Clay studied the chess pieces in silence for several minutes, then heaved a big sigh and shoved back his chair. “I’d better go pick up the missus. She goes to Mae’s every Saturday morning and it’s always the same—those hairdressers get someone in their chair, then gossip for hours. When I go down there and sit a spell, things speed up a little.”
“Want to go another round over lunch on Monday?”
“You betcha.” He gave Nathan a wink as he shrugged into the jacket he’d draped over the back of his chair. “That’ll give you more time to stew over the outcome of this here game.”
He was at the door of the office when he stopped and turned back. “Just a piece of friendly advice. I’ve seen that Hanrahan girl around, too, and don’t deny that she’s pretty. There’s something...different about her, though. That edgy look, like she’s no stranger to trouble.”
“She’s living alone. She’s bound to be a little wary.”
“It’s more than that. Don’t get mixed up with her, Nathan. Nice packaging doesn’t justify the risk.”
Nathan heard Clay banter with Ollie out at the front desk for a few minutes, then the front door opened and he was gone.
Long afterward, Nathan sat in his chair, leaning back with his hands laced behind his head, and stared out the window.
It wasn’t the packaging. Not at all. It was the rest of Sara Hanrahan that intrigued him—her rare level of confidence and that no-nonsense attitude, as if she owned the world and no one was going to stand in her way. That, and the fact that she not only ignored him, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid him.
Since coming back to Ryansville, he’d been pursued by a lot of women who probably gave more thought to his family tree and monied background than they ever gave to him.
In the city, he’d been anonymous, but here he seemed to be like a trophy walleye that a lot of single women—and a few married ones—hoped to land.
Sara Hanrahan clearly didn’t, which made her all the more intriguing. When he’d inadvertently surprised her in the library, he felt an unexpected, soul-deep spark of interest that he’d have sworn she’d felt, too. So why did she barely give him the time of day?
Maybe next time he’d make it harder for her to ignore him and see what happened.
* * * *
SARA SAUNTERED up Main with Harold at her side, nodding at people as she passed, moving over when someone came up behind her at a faster pace.
Lots of people were out on this beautiful autumn afternoon, jogging, walking their dogs or pushing strollers under the canopy of gold and ruby leaves.
This could well be the last weekend of the year for such heavy tourist traffic. Soon cabin owners would be busy locking up their cabins and hauling their boats out of the water, and some of the smaller lake-side resorts would be closing for the year after next weekend. Already, the nights called for two blankets and a hot cup of cocoa before bedtime.
Window shopping for her mother’s birthday gift was proving to be an interesting challenge. There were dozens of shops in town now, ranging from quaint to wildly modernistic, and the store windows were filled with merchandise that was both beautiful and unique. None of it, however, would appeal to her mother.
When she and Harold moved to one side to let yet another guy pass, he slowed and fell into step with her.
“Hi.”
Startled, she glanced over and found Nathan Roswell walking next to her as if he had all the time in the world.
In faded jeans and a beige cotton sweater, he looked lean and tall and way too handsome for his own good. She’d always had a weakness for men with thick dark hair and chiseled features, and for a split second, she imagined what it might be like to actually date him.
But anyone as blue-blooded as this guy was definitely not in her league. And given his profession, he was the last one she ought to hang around with. “What—no uniform?” she asked mildly, stopping at the front window of the Clay Pigeon to check out a display of pottery. “I didn’t think you wore anything but dark blue and shiny badges.”
