Scene of the Crime: Killer Cove. Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

       Chapter Three

      “Why not hang around a few weeks and see what you and Claire can dig up?” Jimmy asked. The two men were seated at the kitchen table eating ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch.

      Already that morning Bo had met with his mother’s lawyer, taken care of what paperwork needed to be done, and then had come back and packed part of the clothes in his mother’s closet in the boxes Jimmy had brought home from the bar.

      “If I know you, you’ve hired people at Bo’s Place who are perfectly capable of running the business without you being present for a while,” Jimmy continued.

      Bo released a sigh. “I tossed and turned all night. The idea of staying here and putting myself through it all again isn’t exactly appealing, and yet the idea of Shelly’s killer still out there has haunted me for the last two years. I want to know who and I want to know why.”

      What he didn’t mention to his best friend was how attracted he was to the woman who had put the idea in his head in the first place. He tried to tell himself that it was merely a combination of grief, gin and her proximity. But he’d wanted to fall into the depths of her amazing blue eyes, reach out and run his fingers through her curly mop of hair to see if the strands were as soft and silky as they appeared.

      He had no idea what force had brought her into his life and why she was being so kind to him. Although she’d tried to explain her total belief in his innocence, he wasn’t sure he understood her reasons. Still, the fact that he was innocent and she’d shown such belief in him had been a balm to a soul that had been scarred for two long years.

      “How did you leave it with Claire last night?” Jimmy asked.

      “She told me if I decided to stick around and become a crime investigation duo that she’d be hanging out at the school around two.”

      Jimmy nodded. “Coach Cantor has a key to the school, and I think once a week or so he and Claire sneak into the school gym and play one-on-one basketball.”

      “Coach Cantor?”

      “Roger Cantor. He moved here about six months after you left. He’s your typical jock type, but a nice guy.” Jimmy looked over at the rooster clock on the wall. “That gives you about an hour if you intend to meet up with her at the school.”

      It was two thirty when Bo finally made up his mind and backed his motorcycle out of the driveway to head to the school. He was late so he wasn’t even sure Claire would still be there, but if he didn’t find her there he knew he’d eventually find her somewhere. Or he had a feeling she’d find him.

      It took him only minutes to arrive at the school, which housed students from kindergarten kids to seniors. Divided into two parts separated by a short breezeway, kindergartners through eighth were housed on the left and the right was for freshmen to seniors.

      Claire’s pink bicycle was locked to an old, rusted bike rack and a car was parked in the lot, letting him know that she and the coach were still here.

      He parked his motorcycle next to the car and then headed for the front door of the high school side of the building. Locked.

      He made his way around the side of the building to the back where he knew there was a door that would take him into a hallway that led directly to the gym.

      This door was unlocked, and as he stepped inside it was to the scents of pine cleaner and floor polish. Once school started again the clean smells would disappear beneath the odors of sweaty bodies and smelly gym clothes.

      On either side of the hallway were doors that led to the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms.

      Before he reached the gym he heard the sound of squeaky shoes pounding the floor and a male triumphant shout. He stepped up to the open doors and peered inside to see Claire facing off for a tip-off with a tall, pleasant-looking blond man who had the physique of a coach.

      But it was Claire who captured his attention. Clad in a pair of white shorts that showcased shapely athletic legs and a turquoise T-shirt that clung to her feminine curves, she looked sexy as hell even dribbling the basketball, which had tipped to her side of the court.

      She saw him and grabbed the ball in her arms, a warm smile curving her lips. She moved closer to him. “Bo, I didn’t think you were coming.”

      “I wasn’t sure myself until I got here.”

      She dropped the ball to the floor as the coach approached where they stood. Claire made the introductions between the two and Roger shook Bo’s hand with a firm grasp and a pleasant smile.

      “You play?” Roger asked and leaned down to pick up the ball. “I could use a little more competition to keep me in shape.” He grinned at Claire as she started to protest. “Face it, Short Stuff, you’re good for running me around, but not any real competition.”

      Bo smiled at the outrage on Claire’s face. “Actually, I played a little in high school,” he said. “But not since, so I probably wouldn’t be any better competition than Claire.”

      “He wouldn’t trade me in for somebody better,” Claire replied. “If he had any real competition and got beat he’d go home and cry like a sissy baby. And speaking of going home, I’ve invited Roger back to my place for a late lunch, and now that you’re here, you’re coming, too.”

      “Oh no.” Bo took a step backward. “I don’t want to intrude.”

      “Nonsense,” Roger replied. “It’s an eat-and-run for me. Besides, Claire already told me she made chicken salad and you don’t want to miss a chance to taste it. She makes the best.”

      Claire looped her elbow with Bo’s. “No arguments. You’re coming to eat and once we’re finished you and I will have a chance to talk.” Her blue eyes radiated a steely strength.

      “You might as well just give in,” Roger said. “When Claire makes up her mind about something it’s darned near impossible to change it.”

      “Bossy little thing, isn’t she?” Bo replied, making Roger laugh and Claire sputter a protest.

      Minutes later as Bo followed Roger’s car with Claire’s bicycle fastened to a rack on its back bumper and her in his passenger seat, Bo realized Roger was right.

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