Cold Comfort (11 page)

"Um-hmm." He took a sip of the hot coffee and put the mug down. Her cheeks were still flushed, making her eyes bluer. Some of her hair slipped from the knot. He wished she'd change clothes, get out of the damn dress. That line of thought led straight to trouble.
Turn it off, Riley.
He gave himself a mental shake and fixed his gaze on the coffee. "Tell me about your birth certificate. Where were you born?"

"The one in the file was a copy. I have one at the shop, too. The original is in a safe deposit box with some other papers." She stirred a little sugar into her coffee. The vaguely uneasy look returned. "McClellanville, South Carolina. I don't know much about it."

"I thought kids loved hearing their birth stories. Didn't you?"

"Mother never wanted to talk about it. I thought maybe she had a hard time. My father had just died, so it probably wasn't something she wanted to dwell on." She focused on the violet in the center of the table, avoiding his eyes.

She didn't want to talk about her birth. Something about it bothered her, and Riley believed this was where the problem lay. The feeling lodged in his gut, and he trusted it. He also knew it would hurt her. Still, it beat dying. But he could do the initial checking on his own, not involve her until he had to. He changed the subject to one that wasn't part of this, but in which he'd developed a passing interest. "Who's this ex-boyfriend, Kramer?"

"Walt?" She shifted her attention back to Riley. "He has nothing to do with this, I'm sure. Besides, he's married. And a new father."

Her smile slipped. He sensed a mine field.

She pushed the coffee cup away and frowned. "How did you know about Walt?"

"I did a little checking, talked to the police. His name came up, that's all."

"We dated for several years, ever since college, but when Mother got sick, I didn't have much time for him. I guess we stayed together out of habit, weren't really in love with each other."

She stared at the flower again, not meeting his eyes. Not much of liar.

He said, "There's more, isn't there? What aren't you telling me?"

"I can tell you he has absolutely no interest in me." Her rueful smile became a grimace. "Oh, crap. He eloped with his secretary shortly before our wedding. She was pregnant.
I
got to return the wedding presents."

"Uh-oh. Bad move." He watched for her reaction.

"Okay, I admit to a certain disappointment." She swung back toward Riley, her eyes flashing. "The bastard. He should have been honest about it."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing." She seemed surprised he asked. "After I thought about it, I decided I'd been lucky."

He believed her. Walt moved up on Riley's shit list. "What about any others, anyone you've dated since then?"

"I've been out a few times, but no one serious. I'm not exactly a party girl, if that's what you're after. My life's pretty quiet these days. I expanded the business this fall and haven't done much else. I can't figure out what's going on, why anyone would be so interested in me
—
alive
or
dead," she added with a wry twist to her mouth.

She must not wear that dress often
. He already knew the basic facts about her life but wanted to hear a few details. He returned to the heart of the matter
—
her background. Both her mother and Daniel were blond and fair; Claire's hair tumbled from its crooked knot in dark waves. It didn't mean much, but the difference surprised him. He'd been certain Claire would resemble her mother. Probably her old-fashioned air. "Tell me about your father. I saw the pictures scattered around the house. You said you weren't close to his family."

"I don't know them. We didn't have a good relationship. We went to see them once when I was five or six. It must have been very unpleasant because I've never forgotten it. Mother cried on the way home. I can still see the tears streaming down her face as we drove along. I remember patting her arm and telling her not to cry, they were bad people." She stirred the coffee again, put the spoon down, and focused on the mug. "She told me not to worry, as long as she had me, they didn't matter."

"Where do they live? Do you know about any brothers or sisters?"

"Charleston, West Virginia. A brother named Keith." She finished her coffee while he polished off his cake. "Mother and Daniel met at Clemson University in South Carolina. He went there on a football scholarship. Mother's family lived in Greenville, nearby."

He noticed she referred to him as Daniel, not Dad, and wondered what Blanche told her. "What happened to him?"

"He died in a car wreck in Germany, a few months before I was born. I think Mother got a small pension, but not much. I know she didn't get any money."

"You must have gotten his social security. How did you go to college?"

"Social security?" She raised her head and stared at him, her brow creased. "No, I would have known. Since his death wasn't related to the military, Mother didn't get any special benefits. I went to the University of Virginia on a partial scholarship and worked part time."

Claire should have been eligible for his social security benefits, no matter how he died, Riley thought. Why hadn't Blanche claimed anything for her child? What if Claire wasn't Daniel's, and Blanche's integrity kept her from claiming anything
—
beyond making her child legitimate? He needed to get back to his computer. Too bad Claire didn't have one here.

First, he wanted to check out Daniel Spencer's family. If the records listed him as Claire's father, her biological father didn't matter. But how would a birth certificate help anyone, unless they didn't know the details of her birth and needed to confirm something about her? Like her parents' names or her birthplace. And now they knew that.

He loaded the dishwasher while she cleaned up.

She covered a yawn. "Sorry, it's been a long week, and I didn't get much sleep last night. If you're sure you want to stay here, help yourself to whatever you need. But it wouldn't take long to run you back to the shop for your car."

"I'll stay," he said, then made her check the alarm system. "Get in the habit."

She checked. The little red light glowed from its box under the table. "It's on."

"Okay, go." He didn't want to leave her, even with the alarm. Her asthmatic friend had been quiet too long. Riley couldn't imagine the desire to eliminate her would just go away, and time apparently mattered. A front was moving in, and rain or sleet would likely start by tomorrow night. If the guy had any sense at all, he'd make a move tonight. And Riley intended to be here.

Chapter 8

A siren blasted Claire out of bed at 3:14. She shot up, wide awake, her heart pounding. Riley's alarm.

Footfalls sounded in the hall below, then the front door opened. Riley? Uncertain, she pushed the curtain open enough to see and peered out the window. Lights came on in the houses around her, but she couldn't see anyone in the yard below. The siren continued its terrible wail. At least she could stop that
—
by now it must have alerted everyone in a three-mile radius. Grabbing her robe, she ran down the steps to turn it off.

She looked out the door but couldn't see or hear anyone. She thought of calling the police, but what if they saw Riley running in the darkness and mistook him for the intruder? What if the neighbors called 911? She clutched the robe tighter and stared into the night, but nothing moved.

In the light from their porch, Claire saw Hal and Jason come out and head her way. She grabbed a pair of boots from the closet and stepped into them before frostbite took over.

Jason bounded up to her porch before she could stop him. "That's some siren. Do you have a burglar alarm? Did someone break in?"

Hal came up behind him, carrying the baseball bat. "Claire, are you all right? Christ. My heart about stopped when that thing went off."

"So did mine. I intended to tell you about it tomorrow. You all go back."

They didn't look ready to go.

Maybe if she explained. "Someone must have tried to break in. Riley went after him."

"Wow! Do you think they have guns?" Jason seemed more hopeful than alarmed.

"I certainly hope not." Guns? Her heart turned over in her chest.

Hal's eyebrows lifted. "So Riley's staying here?"

"Not exactly. He expected trouble tonight and wanted to be here." Now? Hal Beck picked this week to show interest? What ghastly timing. Maybe after things settled down and returned to normal—if ever, she'd think about it. She'd seen a lot of Jason since they moved in next door, but she'd hardly glimpsed Hal. Maybe he worked as much as she did.

"You need to get back inside." Hal caught her arm and drew her toward the door.

"In a minute." Spinning out of his reach, she searched the night for Riley.

"I don't see him. Want me to wait for him?" Jason's wide-eyed excitement told her to give up on sending them home.

Down the block, tires squealed and a car engine roared.

"I bet it's the guy getting away. But maybe Mr. Riley got in a good lick first." Jason's face reflected his disappointment at the lack of action.

Her teeth chattered. Whether from cold or adrenaline, she didn't know. Probably both. A couple of other neighbors came out on their porch. She waved reassuringly, raised her palms in a self-deprecating gesture, and they went back inside. At least the alarm worked.

Since the Becks showed no signs of leaving, Claire gestured them inside and closed the door. "We're all wide awake, so how about some hot chocolate and cake?"

"Great." Jason always responded to food.

He and Riley had a lot in common. Claire led the way to the kitchen.

While she put the milk on to heat, Hal extracted a promise from his son. "You'll get up at six thirty?"

The boy nodded, his hair flopping over his forehead.

"You can stay long enough for one cup and then it's bed. You have to be awake for school tomorrow."

Claire wondered what happened to Riley. What if he'd been hurt? "If Riley isn't back soon, I'm going to look for him. If he's hurt, he could freeze to death," she said, dropping a couple of marshmallows into Jason's cup.

"I'll find him." The boy jumped up, ready to charge out the door.

Hal tugged him back into the chair. "We'll both go if he's not here in a few minutes."

Just then Riley came through the front door, calling, "Claire? Where are you?"

"In the kitchen," she said, going to meet him. She felt a sharp need to throw her arms around him, hold onto him. Instead, she closed the door behind him and contented herself with a calm "Are you all right?"

Riley followed her into the brightly lighted kitchen. She turned to him and saw a trickle of blood from his lip, already puffing up. "You're hurt."

A satisfied grin spread across his face. "You should see the other guy. No, it's nothing
—
I'm fine." He crossed to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face, dried it with a paper towel. It left tiny bits of white fuzz in his beard shadow. The desire to wipe them away almost overcame her good sense.

Jason watched his hero with round eyes. "We would have helped. We didn't know where you were. Did you have a fight?"

"A brief skirmish. He had a partner waiting with the car. Tried to run me down, the
—
" He stopped himself. "The creeps. Glad you guys came over. If I hadn't been here, Claire might have been in trouble." Directing his comments to Jason, he pulled out the chair beside the boy and sat down.

"Two this time? Wow! Wait till I tell the guys about this. That's an awesome alarm, Mr. Riley. It sure woke us up."

"Pretty loud, isn't it? If we're going to be on the same team, I wish you'd call me Riley."

"Yes, sir
—
Riley."

"I don't guess there'll be a problem getting Jason up for school in the morning." Hal shot a rueful look at his son. He held up his cup in salute. "Thanks."

Claire handed Riley a cup of chocolate. Her hands still trembled. "The alarm's very effective. Thanks again." She didn't want to think about the two men trying to run Riley down with the car. She kept hoping to wake up and find this all a bad dream, but she knew it wasn't. Ben Riley was far too real. So was the ache in her shoulder.

"Is there any cake left?" At her nod, he put his hand on her good shoulder and gently pushed her into her chair. "Sit down and drink your chocolate. Jason can help me with it."

The gangly boy almost turned his chair over in his eagerness to help. "I'll get it. You can stay there. I know where everything is."

Hal shook his head. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. Jason, volunteering to help."

After Riley and Jason finished the rest of the cake and cleaned up, Hal dragged his reluctant son home.

Riley locked up and turned to Claire. "I'm going to see your father's family tomorrow." He checked his watch. "Make that today. I want you to go home with Mary. I might be late, and I don't want you here alone. I'll come for you when I get back."