Audrey Claire - Libby Grace 01 - How to be a Ghost by Audrey Claire
Authors: Audrey Claire
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simple questions with so little emotion yet evoked so much more in others. I wanted to help Miles, but was glad Clark’s technique wasn’t turned on me at the moment. Then I remembered our interview. The chief hadn’t been nearly as hard on me. Not at all, really.
Years ago, when we were still in high school, I remember Mason complaining that every time he looked Clark’s way, Clark’s gaze was locked on me. He’d threatened to punch Clark, but I had told him to leave him alone if he wanted to keep dating me. I did not like bullies, and as far as I could tell, Clark wasn’t hurting anyone. When Mason turned his back, I remembered I had glanced over at Clark through my lashes and found his claim true. Over the next few days, every time I came across Clark Givens, he was already staring at me. I had been flattered because I had never thought of myself as a girl boys would go gaga over. Even though Clark didn’t approach Mason in looks back then, it still made me feel good knowing of his interest. Now, I had to wonder if his feelings held, but I dismissed it as fast as the thoughts arose. Clark must have plenty of women to choose from, even in Summit’s Edge.
“I didn’t kill George,” Miles blurted, and Clark laid his pencil flat on his notebook. I expected him to ask why Miles would say such a thing, but he stood quiet, waiting. Miles fidgeted a few moments, and then spoke again, his face red, eyes bright but more in frustration than hurt. Why did I get the feeling Miles wasn’t heartbroken at the loss of his lover? “I had a note from him. I don’t know where it is.”
“That’s convenient,” Clark said.
Miles’s color deepened. “I think the mayor took it to try to pin this on me. She hated that we were together. It embarrassed her. She might pretend she’s tolerant of all kinds of people, but she’s not.”
I itched to ask a few questions of my own, but I tried my best to trust Clark to think of everything that crossed my mind.
“Are you implying the mayor had something to do with her husband’s murder?”
“Of course!”
“What proof do you have?”
“She knew about us.”
Clark picked up his pencil again. “How long?”
Miles stuttered. If he said the mayor had known a long time, than it made no sense to kill George now. If she had just found out, then that was different. Miles not answering right away would seem as if he lied, especially if he claimed the mayor had just learned about the two of them.
“I…I don’t know,” Miles said. “George told me a couple days before he died that she knows.”
“Ask him what her reaction to finding out was,” I said, and then slapped a hand over my mouth. Clark glanced around, and my stomach hurt thinking he had heard me. He waved a hand as if swatting at an insect.
“Mr. Lucas, you mentioned a note.”
Miles’s Adam’s apple bobbed a few times.
“What did this note say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Clark’s gaze met the younger man’s, and moisture broke out on Miles’s upper lip. He scrubbed a hand across it and glanced away. “Just…maybe…I want to see you, I guess. Like that.”
“Uh-huh.” The little pencil scratched over the page. “And do you have any other notes from George Walsh?”
Miles drew himself up taller. “I don’t see why I have to show you any letters. They’re private. Besides, you haven’t shown me a warrant.”
“You’re right, Mr. Lucas. I just thought in the interest of catching your friend’s killer…”
“Well, nobody likes to show that kind of stuff.” Miles rubbed a hand over his neck. “If I’m not a suspect, it’s not important anyway.”
“If you aren’t? I assure you, Mr. Lucas, you are.”
Miles’s knees almost gave out. He dipped low and grappled for the arm of the couch. When he laid a hand on it, he used it as support to sit down. Clark continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on the poor man.
“So is the mayor, and so are a few others. I have to
Years ago, when we were still in high school, I remember Mason complaining that every time he looked Clark’s way, Clark’s gaze was locked on me. He’d threatened to punch Clark, but I had told him to leave him alone if he wanted to keep dating me. I did not like bullies, and as far as I could tell, Clark wasn’t hurting anyone. When Mason turned his back, I remembered I had glanced over at Clark through my lashes and found his claim true. Over the next few days, every time I came across Clark Givens, he was already staring at me. I had been flattered because I had never thought of myself as a girl boys would go gaga over. Even though Clark didn’t approach Mason in looks back then, it still made me feel good knowing of his interest. Now, I had to wonder if his feelings held, but I dismissed it as fast as the thoughts arose. Clark must have plenty of women to choose from, even in Summit’s Edge.
“I didn’t kill George,” Miles blurted, and Clark laid his pencil flat on his notebook. I expected him to ask why Miles would say such a thing, but he stood quiet, waiting. Miles fidgeted a few moments, and then spoke again, his face red, eyes bright but more in frustration than hurt. Why did I get the feeling Miles wasn’t heartbroken at the loss of his lover? “I had a note from him. I don’t know where it is.”
“That’s convenient,” Clark said.
Miles’s color deepened. “I think the mayor took it to try to pin this on me. She hated that we were together. It embarrassed her. She might pretend she’s tolerant of all kinds of people, but she’s not.”
I itched to ask a few questions of my own, but I tried my best to trust Clark to think of everything that crossed my mind.
“Are you implying the mayor had something to do with her husband’s murder?”
“Of course!”
“What proof do you have?”
“She knew about us.”
Clark picked up his pencil again. “How long?”
Miles stuttered. If he said the mayor had known a long time, than it made no sense to kill George now. If she had just found out, then that was different. Miles not answering right away would seem as if he lied, especially if he claimed the mayor had just learned about the two of them.
“I…I don’t know,” Miles said. “George told me a couple days before he died that she knows.”
“Ask him what her reaction to finding out was,” I said, and then slapped a hand over my mouth. Clark glanced around, and my stomach hurt thinking he had heard me. He waved a hand as if swatting at an insect.
“Mr. Lucas, you mentioned a note.”
Miles’s Adam’s apple bobbed a few times.
“What did this note say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Clark’s gaze met the younger man’s, and moisture broke out on Miles’s upper lip. He scrubbed a hand across it and glanced away. “Just…maybe…I want to see you, I guess. Like that.”
“Uh-huh.” The little pencil scratched over the page. “And do you have any other notes from George Walsh?”
Miles drew himself up taller. “I don’t see why I have to show you any letters. They’re private. Besides, you haven’t shown me a warrant.”
“You’re right, Mr. Lucas. I just thought in the interest of catching your friend’s killer…”
“Well, nobody likes to show that kind of stuff.” Miles rubbed a hand over his neck. “If I’m not a suspect, it’s not important anyway.”
“If you aren’t? I assure you, Mr. Lucas, you are.”
Miles’s knees almost gave out. He dipped low and grappled for the arm of the couch. When he laid a hand on it, he used it as support to sit down. Clark continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on the poor man.
“So is the mayor, and so are a few others. I have to
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