Wild Fire

He inhaled the light floral scent of her shampoo. “It scared me when I heard you were hurt.”

She looked up at him with glistening blue eyes, her dark lashes wet and spiked. A wobbly smile lifted the corner of her lips. “You? A big bad cop scared?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly wanted to hug her close again, calm the brutal fear that reared up inside him just as it had at the hospital. “You’re my best pal. It would be hard to replace you.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she smoothed his navy tie, rubbed at the spot on his light blue shirt that she had wet with her tears. “You could go on one of those reality shows. Surely they have one about finding friends.”

“Think I’d be able to find somebody who would drag me out of a bar and keep me captive until I swore on my badge that I was sober and never going back?”

“That was special, wasn’t it?” she said wryly, wiping the tears from her face.

“You saved my life,” he said quietly. He’d told her before. With everything they’d shared through the years, they had both agreed not to keep count anymore, but he knew he wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for Shelby.

“You’ve done the same for me. I wouldn’t want another best friend. It would be hard to find someone who knows everything about me and would still put up with me.”

He grinned. “I don’t know everything. I don’t know where that tattoo is.”

She smiled, which was what he wanted. The small fox tattoo on his left shoulder matched the one she’d gotten at the same time. It had been Shelby’s idea to get a physical symbol of Jason, and she had wanted Clay to take her to the tattoo parlor on the first anniversary of her brother’s death. To this day, she’d refused to tell him where she’d gotten tattooed.

“I have to say, Jessup, you’re good with hysterical females.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “Must come from having two sisters.”

“You were hardly hysterical.” Unsettled at how the feel of her lean curves had affected him, Clay released her as she stepped away. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I guess I had a meltdown.” She held her injured arm against her stomach, folding the other one underneath it.

“You’re entitled. You’ve been dealing with a lot.”

“I can’t stop thinking that I might know what happened to M.B. And that it could’ve been me instead of her.”

“I know,” he said fiercely, clenching his fists tight. He had been responsible for Jason’s walking into danger, but he wouldn’t make that mistake with Shelby.

Her gaze, knowing and sad, searched his. “The hospital made me think about him.”

“Me, too.” Most of the time he lived with the memory just fine, but sometimes pain raked through him and nearly ripped a fresh wound. Like when he’d seen Shelby in that hospital bed.

“Why couldn’t I have lost those memories?”

The agony in her voice clutched at his chest. Their gazes met and he knew the memories in her eyes were the ones that hit him now. Jason hadn’t wanted to go climbing that day, but Clay had pushed until his friend gave in. They had scaled the ragged mountain face just fine, but coming down, Jason’s harness had broken and he had lost both his handholds and footholds.

Clay, secure in his harness, had scrabbled and grabbed, but Jason had fallen. Sometimes even now, four years later, Clay would dream about it, hearing over and over the sickening thud of his friend hitting the ground. Reliving the horror, the guilt.

Pain flashed across Shelby’s features, then was gone. “If only I could remember something. Anything. There are only…shadows in my mind. No definition.”

“Shelby.” Clay didn’t like the guilt that flashed across her face. “Don’t torture yourself. You know it doesn’t help. And the doctor said not to force anything.”

“I know.” She shoved an unsteady hand through her short brown hair.

“You hungry for some real food?”

“Yes.” She fell into step with him as they walked around the edge of her sofa. She squeezed his arm and gave him a small smile, telling him she was all right.

A pair of ceramic dalmatians flanked either side of the wide entry that led from the living area into the kitchen. She fixed drinks while he made turkey sandwiches. He glanced at her as she slid into the seat next to him, putting diet colas on the table at both their places.

“I went back to M.B.’s school today to follow up on what you told me about her being involved with someone. No one I spoke to knew anything about the affair, but I left my card for a woman named Gail Cosgrove, M.B.’s closest friend there. She’s the school secretary. Right now she’s in Arizona moving her elderly mother back here. I couldn’t reach her by phone, so I left a message at the school for her to call me when she returns.”

“Hopefully M.B.’s friend will know something.” Shelby stole a pickle from his plate. “It’s only been about two weeks since she told me about him. Maybe she broke things off.”

“Do you think it was the Hispanic man you saw once?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did she tell you what her new guy looked like? Age?” Clay pushed the jar of pickles toward her. “What kind of car he drove?”

“No. I assumed she wouldn’t tell me his name or anything because he was married, but maybe that wasn’t why.”

“Maybe she kept it a secret because he’s someone prominent,” he suggested.

“Maybe it was another teacher or someone else at school.”

“Like the principal? A custodian?”

“Or the school cop?” Three years ago, the city had instituted a program that assigned an officer full-time to the two high schools. The presence of law enforcement had cut down drastically on everything from fights to drugs.

He nodded. “One or both of them could’ve feared losing their jobs. I’ll go back this afternoon and see if I get anywhere with that.”

The door that led to the garage opened and Paula walked in carrying two grocery sacks. “There’s a police car parked out front.”

“I called for one.” Clay rose and took the bags from her, setting them on the counter.

“Even though Mom’s here?” Shelby asked.

“Even though.” He wasn’t taking any chances with her safety. Or her mom’s, either. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on Vince Tyner.

Paula glanced over as she began unloading items. “You’re still planning to stay, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Until Shelby remembers whether or not she saw anything. Until we know what happened to her and the victim.”

“Thank you, Clay.” Tears shone in Paula’s eyes. “I feel better knowing you’re here.”

“You should go back to the store whenever you need to, Mom.” Her mother’s bead and jewelry store, To Bead Or Not To Bead, did a thriving business, enticing customers from Presley as well as Oklahoma City and other nearby towns. “I’ll be fine.”

“Tracy can handle things there for a couple of days.”

Clay wrapped up the rest of his sandwich to take with him, then said goodbye to her mom. Shelby walked with him to the front door.

“Thanks for a while ago,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

That was a first, too. As long as he’d known her, even as a teenager, Shelby looked directly at someone, whatever the situation. Was she avoiding his gaze because she’d felt his body’s insane, mystifying reaction to her? “I’ve got a ways to go before I make up for the solid week you stayed with me after Jason died.”