Exposed : My Mountain Man Protector(33)

A moment later, he was back with our two halves of the sleeping bag and some more raisin bread. He draped both tartan parts over me and handed me two pieces of bread.



“Picked some of our favorite up while I was down there.”



I glanced over at him, bit off a raisiny piece, and said, “My fav.” Then I grinned.



As I ate, he watched me. The he said softly, “You know, you are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, Claire.”



I smiled shyly back at him and handed him the other bread piece. Once we finished our bread, we snuggled back together, all thoughts of cold and loneliness gone. Now all that was here was a warm certainty of security. With this man beside me, everything was going to be all right.



That night we collapsed into bed in a heap, snuggled up to each other, and pressed ourselves together tightly. As we made love, my body clung to him with a passion I couldn’t blame it for. After all, this might have been our last night together.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





The next morning, I awoke with a lump in my throat. I dressed and packed my things in a daze. I couldn’t touch any of the toast or eggs Blake made us.



At the doorway, before we set out, Blake enveloped me in a hug.



“Don’t worry,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m here for you.”



“Thank you,” I said, though I could barely look at him. How could I not worry when things were still so up in the air?



The journey back to town seemed to pass in an instant, no matter how I dragged my feet. One second Blake was asking me what my favorite wildflower was so he could pick it for me, and the next we were approaching the Aspen police station.



The red-bricked building looked out of place, imposing. It was more like a city hall or a school than a place where the law was doled out. Inside it was similarly disarming; the rich amber front desk looked like it belonged in a museum.



Meanwhile, the bulging eyes of the man behind it were locked on me. “Yes?” his shrill voice asked.



“I’m Claire Bell. I’m here to see Officer Sherpe.”



His eyes bulged at me for another moment before he nodded his head and said, “Sit down. He’ll just be a minute.”



Blake and I sat on a wood bench, the seat and back of which were at a perfect right angle, preventing the sitter from getting into any sort of comfortable position. Sitting there beside me, Blake squeezed my hand.



“Don’t worry, Claire. You can do this.”



I nodded, trying to keep my gaze on his massive hand. Just today. I just had to get through today, and then everything would be all right.



It really was just a minute before a familiar voice said, “Miss Bell?”



It was Officer Sherpe, looking as angularly impassive as ever, a beige folder in his hand.



“Hi,” I said, rising.



“Just follow me,” he said, walking away already.



I followed him, leaving Blake behind. We passed desks and desks of disinterested, hard-at-work people and then went down a hallway of clear rooms with opaque doors. As we walked, a bang surprised me. I turned to see Angelo, his palm on the clear wall, his face twisted in a smile. I froze, watching him in a trance as he slid a finger across his neck and then pointed to me.



“Miss Bell.”



A hand at my elbow. It was Officer Sherpe, his mouth inverted in a scowl.



“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. I was under the impression he was in a different wing.”



I let myself be led away in a daze. We stopped in front of a room with what looked to be a black electronic box on the door. Officer Sherpe tapped his badge on the black box, and the door beeped and then swung open, and we went in. The room was a not-unpleasant box. It matched Sherpe’s beige folder: beige carpet, beige ceiling and walls, beige table and chairs.



He gestured to one of the beige chairs, and I sat down on it. Officer Sherpe didn’t sit down. He looked at me.



“I know this may be difficult, Claire, but we’re going to need your testimony to convict your husband. Nothing we have on him is sticking; his alibis are airtight. It’s all up to you.”



His words swelled the already colossal pit in my stomach.



“Claire?” he said.



I nodded. “Can you just give me a minute?”



“Sure,” he said, gliding to the door. “I’ll be back in five. Don’t sweat it, kid.”



Behind him, the door shut with an efficient click. Immediately, I felt like running out there with him. What was I thinking, staying here alone when Angelo was only a few doors down? He could escape, make his way down here, and then, rapidly and happily, kill me.