“This is Angie Pallorino,” Claire said. “She’s—”
“I know who she is. I said she’s not welcome here. They all say she shouldn’t be here.”
“Who says that?” Claire asked.
“Wallace, Jessie. BoJo. Your dad. She’s been bugging Jacobi, everyone. Bringing up bad things. You shouldn’t be with her, Claire-Bear.”
This beast of a man, while frightening, had kind eyes, Angie decided. She watched him step toward a table near him and reach for a rifle that lay there. Claire tensed. Her reaction made Angie’s pulse quicken. She was unsure how to read this sexual abuse survivor who’d never gotten the help he needed and who lived isolated in the forest. In addition to being scary, he looked scared. That could make him dangerous.
“What does she want here, anyways?” Axel growled.
Angie stepped forward cautiously. “Axel, hi. I—”
Claire placed a hand on Angie’s arm, stopping her. Claire’s gaze was fixed on the gun in Axel’s hands. She was reading something in her uncle’s stance, and Angie trusted her.
Claire said in a calm voice, “Angie Pallorino just wanted to ask you if you ever saw those women on the river while they were on that trip. She believes you might have met Jasmine Gulati in the Hook and Gaffe, seen her arguing with some of the other guys.”
His face turned thunderous. His green eyes flashed back to Angie. He was likely recalling Claire’s father, his cousin, cuddling with Jasmine Gulati in that booth, and he wasn’t going to let “Claire-Bear” hear about that.
“Get out,” he grunted, chambering a round. “Get the hell off my land, and get out of town.”
“Uncle Axe—”
“I mean it, Claire-Bear. Take this woman the hell away before I go hurting her.”
Claire swallowed and glanced at Angie. The young woman looked upset, nervous.
Angie nodded. She began to back out. “Nice meeting you, sir,” she said in an even cop tone. “Maybe we can talk some other time.”
He said nothing. Angie exited, but Claire lingered a moment in the shed. Angie heard a muffled exchange of words. Claire came outside with her mouth tight. In brooding silence, she stomped her way back into the forest.
As Angie followed behind, she said, “So Axel really doesn’t like visitors.”
“No.” Claire kept walking, brooking no further discussion. But as they neared the moss grove, she stopped and said, “I can see now why he hates people coming out to his place. I can totally see it, since you told me what happened to him. I bet he knows exactly who drowned Porter Bates, if that did in fact happen. He’d know they did it to avenge his rape, and he’d want to protect whoever that was. If word is out that you’re digging up old dirt, that old rape has to be a part of the old dirt. You’ve got to be threatening those old allegiances.”
Angie nodded. “Yes.”
Claire glowered at her. “You’re pushing people to the edge of comfort, Angie. It ... could end up going sideways. You could get hurt.”
“Are you saying you think your uncle Axel’s protectors are capable of hurting me?”
Claire palmed off her hat and turned away, breathing hard. “I don’t know.” She spun back to face Angie. “But if someone did murder Porter Bates, what do you think they might do if you threaten to open that up again?” Her gaze lasered Angie’s. “Is what you’re doing worth it?”
“What about truth, Claire? What if that old murder led to another? What if it could lead to more?” She paused. “What about justice?”
Claire inhaled deeply. “What if it wasyourfamily, Angie? What then? Would you be so hungry for truth then?”
“I’ve had bad stuff unearthed in my own family. I think you’d know that if you read up on me. It wasn’t pleasant to discover the truth, and it was a heinous truth, but I’m better off for it now.”
“Are you? Really?”
Angie weighed the answer. Wind stirred the forest, and trees groaned and creaked, releasing pinecones and debris. “I am,” she said softly. “The truth doesn’t make things easier. But I believe it’s necessary. I believe justice needs to come through proper channels, for what kind of society are we without that?” She paused. “Now that you know what happened to Axel, would you—couldyou—just shut your mind and carry on?”
She inhaled deeply. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I honestly don’t know.”
They resumed walking along the trail in silence, and Angie could feel the tension radiating off Claire. She wondered about Axel Tollet. All that she’d gotten out of their visit was more questions. Tentatively, she probed Claire once more.
“Those rusted leg traps hanging on Axel’s wall—does he run lines?” she called out as they hiked.
