LITMIR.BIZ

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      Bo glanced at the road by the cemetery. There wasn’t a car in sight and it was three o’clock. “Let’s get this done,” he said roughly.

      So his mother would be sent off to her final destination by a pastor, a loving son, a surrogate son, two cops who thought her son was guilty of murder and a woman Bo hadn’t decided yet if she was completely sane.

      * * *

      CLAIRE HAD A FEELING few people would be here today. Brenda McBride had become a semi-shut-in after Bo left town. She and Jimmy showed up every Sunday morning for church, but other than that she was rarely seen out and about.

      The service was short yet emotional, and Bo’s face and body radiated a soul-deep sorrow that Claire felt inside her heart. She didn’t know what it was like to have a loving, caring mother, nor did she know much about having a decent father, but that didn’t stop her from imagining the depth of Bo’s loss. She’d felt the same way when Shelly had been murdered, that something precious and beloved had been stolen away from Bo.

      When the service was finished, Bo looked hollow-eyed and lost. His jaw clenched as Trey and Ray approached him. “You planning on staying in town?” Trey asked.

      “Why? Do you intend to put up posters of my face to warn young women?” Bo retorted. He drew a deep, weary sigh. “Don’t worry, I just have a few things to clear up and I should be gone by the weekend.”

      “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Ray said.

      Claire saw every muscle in Bo tense as a red flush rose up his neck. “Come on, Bo. I’m taking you home with me,” she said. Bo looked at her in surprise. “Jimmy, I’ll bring him home later this evening.”

      She grabbed him by the hand and physically pulled him away from both the lawmen and his friend. He balked for only a moment and then went willingly with her.

      They didn’t speak as they walked through the cemetery and to her compact car parked in the lot. She got behind the wheel as Bo folded his long legs into the passenger side.

      “You have a car,” he said, stating the obvious.

      Claire started the engine. “My usual mode of transportation around town is my bicycle, but I get the car out for special occasions and when the weather isn’t conducive to riding or walking.”

      She felt his gaze on her. “Thank you for showing up today,” he said. “And for stepping in before I punched Ray in his face.”

      “I figured you could use a stiff drink rather than a night in the jail,” she replied. “Besides, Ray McClure isn’t worth the effort of an uppercut. He’s a weasel who likes to chase anything in a skirt and hand out tickets for looking at him cross-eyed.”

      “He was one of the loudest voices screaming my guilt all over town before I left,” Bo said. Once again she felt his gaze on her, warm and intense. “What am I doing in your car going to your home?”

      She flashed him a quick glance and then focused back on the outer road as they rounded the tip of the lagoon. “I figure within an hour or so Jimmy will be leaving to go to work, which means you’ll probably be holed up in your house all alone, and nobody should drink alone.”

      “What makes you think I’m going to drink?”

      “Because I would if I were in your shoes. You just buried your mother. I don’t think you need to be by yourself right now.”

      “You’re kind of a pushy woman,” he replied lightly.

      A small laugh released from her. “I’m sure I’ve been called worse. I hope you’re a gin-and-tonic kind of man because that’s what I’ve got at the house.”

      “Anything is fine,” he replied, his voice suddenly weary.

      She pulled up in front of her house in the driveway that just barely held the length of her car. “Home, sweet home.” She unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car at the same time as Bo.

      “Nice,” he said. “I don’t remember this place looking like this. You must have put a lot of work into it.”

      She was acutely aware of his presence just behind her as she walked up the porch and unlocked the door. The hot, sultry air intensified the scent of him...a fragrance of shaving cream and pleasant woodsy cologne. “It took me a full year to get rid of what once stood here and make this a real home.”

      “Looks like you have a gift.”

      She turned and looked where he pointed to the edge of the porch, where a vase of flowers sat on a folded note. A wave of irritation swept through her. If this was some sort of a charming courtship game it had gone on long enough.

      She grabbed the vase and note and then ushered Bo inside. “Apparently I’ve picked up a secret admirer.” She set the vase in the center of the table next to the one from the day before. “Take off your jacket and get comfortable.” She gestured toward the beige sofa with bright green and turquoise throw pillows.

      He took off his jacket and slung it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Do you have any idea who your secret admirer might be?” he asked.

      She pulled from a cabinet a large bottle of tonic and a bottle of gin, and then opened the refrigerator door to grab a couple of limes. “Not a clue,” she replied. “And honestly I think the whole thing is ridiculous. If some man is interested in me, then he should just step up to the plate and tell me. Lime?”

      “Sounds good.”

      As she cut up the limes he wandered the space, checking out the books on her turquoise-painted ladder bookcase, the green and blue knickknacks that she’d found to give the house a sense of home. He finally landed on the sofa. After handing him his drink, she sat on the opposite side of the sofa with her own.

      “Why are you being so nice to me? Aren’t you afraid somebody in town will see you with me and you’ll be shunned?” he asked, his midnight-blue eyes holding her gaze.

      She took a sip of the biting yet refreshing drink and then placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “I don’t pay much attention to what people think about me. I’m often on the unpopular side of an issue.” She offered him a sympathetic gaze. “You want to talk about your mother?”

      He settled back against the cushion and took a long, deep drink from his glass. “Not really. I’ve had days to do nothing but think about her and now I’d much rather talk about you.”

      “Me? Trust me, there isn’t that much to talk about. I was born and raised here. My mother ran off when I was six and I was left with a neglectful alcoholic father in a shanty that threatened to fall down whenever the wind blew. I went to college on a full scholarship and got my teaching degree. When I returned here my father had disappeared and I haven’t seen him since. And that’s my story.”

      She leaned forward and grabbed her glass and then took another sip. She’d made her drink light on gin and heavy on tonic and had made Bo’s drink heavy on gin and light on tonic.

      “So, your turn. Tell me what you’ve been doing for the last two years,” she asked. “Have you made yourself a new, happy life? Found a new love? I heard through the grapevine that you’re living in Jackson now.”

      He nodded at the same time the sound of rain splattered against the window. “I opened a little bar and grill, Bo’s Place, although it’s nothing like the original.” His dark brows tugged together in a frown as if remembering the highly successful business he’d had here in town before he was ostracized.

      He took another big drink and then continued, “There’s no new woman in my life. I don’t even have friends. Hell, I’m not even sure what I’m doing here with you.”

      “You’re here because I’m a bossy woman,” she replied. She got up to refill his glass. “And I thought you could use an extra friend while you’re here.”

      She

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