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“So tell me, Ms. Hanrahan, what might entice you besides something with fins? Would it be good music? Dancing? Sunny faraway beaches?”
“It would depend on who was doing the enticing.” If it’s you...
Sunshine sparkled on the lake outside. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and intimate, the ambiance enhanced by soft flickering candlelight and the deep gold of rough-cut pine walls.
The subdued lighting shadowed the lean, strong planes of his face and darkened his eyes, and she found herself wanting to touch him just to be sure he was real.
“You’re looking at me,” he said with a low laugh, “as if I might be your main course.”
“Must be the lighting in here,” she shot back to hide her sudden embarrassment. The last person she ought to be ogling was the one man in town she had to avoid.
Grasping at the first change of topic that came to mind, she folded her hands on the tablecloth, leaned forward, and said, “The former sheriff didn’t seem very happy to see me.”
Nathan canted his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Exactly what did you say to him? I haven’t heard old Clay that agitated since his wife made him take dancing lessons with her.”
“I asked him about my dad.”
“And he said...?”
“He insisted that there was no other possible conclusion. He was very touchy about the topic.”
“No kidding.”
“Why? It seems reasonable enough that I would want to hear the facts. I was too young back then to understand what went on.”
“He called me after you left his place and asked me to deal with any further questions you have.”
“Can I see the reports?”
Nathan shifted in his seat. “Well...”
“It’s all public record now, isn’t it?”
“Yes...though there’s a lot of graphic detail in those files that I don’t think you’d want to read.”
“Will you show me those files?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes filled with concern. “If that’s what you want.”
When their salads arrived, they ate in silence for a few minutes. “Sounds like you have a good relationship with Clay.”
“He was my boss when I worked at the Aspen County Sheriff’s Department based in Hawthorne.” Nathan smiled. “Tough old coot—when he retired and moved to Ryansville, I think the entire department breathed a sigh of relief.”
“Was he good at his job?”
Nathan laughed. “He was like a bulldog and had about as much tact, but yeah, he sure got the job done. The voters loved him because of his tough stand on crime. His employees mostly tried to keep busy and stay out of his way. He didn’t tolerate inefficiency.”
“So he’d already retired and moved here when you were assigned to cover Ryansville?”
“Right. And now he’s become a good friend. We play chess over lunch, he talks about the old days and how much he misses the action. I nag him about his health and keep him in touch with what’s going on.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “And I give him a place to hide from Dora for a while. She’d keep him moving twenty-four hours a day if she could. He hates shopping and household chores.”
Sara thought about Clay’s labored breathing when she’d seen him earlier. “He doesn’t seem to be in the best of shape.”
“He’s overweight, and forty years of heavy smoking hasn’t done him much good. He’s got congestive heart failure and has battled lung cancer for the past few years.”
“I’m really sorry. It must be hard on you.”
Nathan speared a piece of lettuce, studied it, then set the fork down. “I try not to think about it. He’s become like a grandfather, almost. My family isn’t all that close.”
