Adeline hesitated. What the hell kind of question was that? “You don’t read the paper or watch the news?”
“Not anymore. My vision’s too poor since having the chemotherapy treatments. On Sundays Everett reads the paper to me. Keeps me abreast of the important headlines as they appear.”
“Then why don’t you ask him?”
“I’m asking you.”
Adeline turned to face Cyrus. He really did look old and frail. Nothing like the powerful son of a bitch he used to be. She was glad. She hoped he withered up completely before that black heart ceased to beat. “Yes, Cherry Prescott has blond hair.” It wasn’t lost on her that he asked the question in the past tense. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. That’s all.”
Bullshit. “Stay out of my way, Cyrus, and I’ll be out of your territory before you know it.”
She glided the doors open, pushing the heavy slabs into their wall pockets. Wyatt stepped aside as she burst into the hall.
He followed her out the front door and down the steps without saying a word. Was he going to do this the whole time she was here? She wanted to turn around and tell him to back off. But she didn’t. Instead, she climbed into the SUV and let her fury recede enough to regain her composure.
“Why did he ask you if Prescott was blond?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to freak me out. He’s an asshole like that.”
“I called Tony Laughlin. He’ll take care of repairing or replacing your tires.” Wyatt glanced at her as he guided his SUV down the long gravel drive. “The county will pay for the damages.”
“I have insurance.” Adeline pulled her seat belt into place. “You don’t need to do me any favors.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, just drove. Finally, he spilled what was on his mind. “So this is the way it’s going to be.”
What did he expect? “I’m here for the investigation, Wyatt, not to mend fences.” She stared out into the darkness. She didn’t want to lookat him. Didn’t want to hear his voice, especially not in the dark. After nine years that shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did. It bothered her a lot. The sooner she was at the motel and away from him the happier she would be.
The five miles back into town were driven in total silence. There was nothing else to say. Even now, after all this time, she understood what Wyatt wanted. He wanted forgiveness. For the first year after she’d left, he had tried to make things right. But he didn’t understand. There was no way to make what happened right. Nothing he could say or do would change the choice he had made any more than it could the choice she had made.
She didn’t belong here. Whatever they’d once shared had died as surely as Gage Cooper had that day nine years, three months, and four days ago.
A final turn off Delmas Avenue and they were at their destination. An antiquated neon sign proclaiming the establishment as theShady Oaks Motelstood proudly in a seriously neglected lake of cracked and faded asphalt. The rundown row of rooms was dark, but a dim glow beamed from the office window. Hourly rates were written by hand and posted beneath the window. Not exactly a welcoming sight. The Chevy pickup parked in the lot likely belonged to the manager.
Trees, naked for the winter, towered behind the rooms, but there wasn’t a shrub or sprig of grass in front. Just the disintegrating asphalt and a narrow band of sidewalk lining the row of equally decrepit rooms.
Definitely worse than she remembered.
“This is a bad idea.” Wyatt shoved the gearshift into park and shut off the engine. “Anyone who drives through will see your Bronco in the lot while you’re here. It’s not like you can miss it.”
“I’ll be fine.” She hopped out, opened the back passenger door and reached for her bag. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Like you did nine years ago.”
Adeline pushed the SUV door closed and headed for the office. She wasn’t going to discuss nine years ago with him. Not tonight. Not ever.
Wyatt didn’t drive away until Adeline had gotten her room key and gone inside room number 10. She watched from the window as he pulled out of the parking lot. When his taillights had disappeared, she closed her eyes and let go a weary, disgusted breath.
She was not going to let him get to her.
How the hell could she still be susceptible to him on any level after all this time? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this situation did.
She tossed her bag onto the bed and surveyed her digs. Definitely the lowest of low rent. Same wallpaper with the big gold flowers that had been here when she was a wild and fearless teenager and had partied with friends in this dump. At the time, they hadn’t cared. Privacy away from the parents was all they had been looking for. A whole group of friends would rent a room to party. At the time there had been a different manager but he’d had the same attitude—as long as the law didn’t show up he didn’t care what happened.
The thinning green-and-blue shag carpet needed a serious shot of Rogaine. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the bathroom. One peek past the door and she confirmed her worst fears.
“There should be a biohazard warning.” But for a few nights it would do.