The Lucky One - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,104

that smart. He had to be. But what if he wasn’t?

Clayton went to the refrigerator and opened another beer, knowing he couldn’t risk it. Who knew what the guy was planning next? He took a long pull, praying for the numbing effect to kick in soon.

This should have been easier to handle. He was a deputy sheriff, and the guy was new in town. Clayton should have had the power all along, but instead he found himself sitting in a messy kitchen because he hadn’t wanted to ask Ben to clean it for fear the kid would tell Thigh-bolt, which just might spell the end of Clayton’s life as he knew it.

What did the guy have against him? That’s what Clayton wanted to know. Clayton wasn’t the one causing problems, Thigh-bolt was the one making things difficult—and to rub salt in the wound, the guy was sleeping with Beth as well.

He took another drink, wondering how his life could have turned to crap so quickly. Sunk in misery, he barely registered the sound of someone knocking at the front door. He pushed back from the table and stumbled through the living room. When he opened the door, he saw Tony standing on the porch, looking like a drowned rat. As if everything else weren’t bad enough, the worm was here.

Tony took a slight step back. “Whoa, dude. You okay? You smell like you’ve been drinking.”

“What do you want, Tony?” He wasn’t in the mood for this.

“I’ve been trying to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Get to the point.”

“I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“I’ve been busy. And I’m busy now, so go away.” He started to close the door, and Tony raised his hand.

“Wait! I have something to tell you,” he whined. “It’s important.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember when I called you? I don’t know, it must have been a couple of months ago?”

“No.”

“You remember. I called you from Decker’s about this guy showing Beth’s picture around?”

“And?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you.” He pushed a clump of greasy hair out of his eyes. “I saw him again today. And I saw him talking to Beth.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After church. He was talking to Beth and your grandfather. He was the dude on the piano today.”

Despite the buzz, Clayton felt his head begin to clear. It came back to him vaguely at first, then sharper. That was the weekend Thigh-bolt had taken the camera and disk.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d remember that dude anywhere.”

“He had Beth’s picture?”

“I already told you that. I saw it. I just thought it was weird, you know? And then I see them together today? I thought you’d want to know.”

Clayton processed Tony’s news. “I want you to tell me everything you can remember about the picture.”

Tony the worm had a surprisingly good memory, and it didn’t take long for Clayton to get the full story. That the picture was a few years old and had been taken at the fair. That Thigh-bolt didn’t know her name. That Thigh-bolt was looking for her.

After Tony left, Clayton continued to ponder what he’d learned.

No way had Thigh-bolt been here five years ago and forgotten her name. So where did he get the picture? Had he walked across the country to find her? And if so, what did that mean?

That he’d stalked her?

He wasn’t sure yet, but something wasn’t right. And Beth, naive as usual, had allowed him not only into her bed, but into Ben’s life as well.

He frowned. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all, and he was pretty sure Beth wouldn’t like it, either.

25

Thibault

So that’s it, huh?”

Despite the canopy offered by the trees, Thibault was drenched by the time he and Ben reached the tree house. Water poured from the raincoat he was wearing, and his new pants were soaked below the knees. Inside his boots, his socks squished unpleasantly. Ben, on the other hand, was bundled from head to toe in a hooded rain suit; on his feet, he wore Nana’s rubber boots. Aside from his face, Thibault doubted he even noticed the rain.

“This is how we reach it. It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Ben motioned to an oak tree on the near side of the creek. A series of nailed two-by-fours climbed the side of the trunk. “All we have to do is climb the tree ladder here so we can cross the bridge.”

Thibault noticed with apprehension that the creek had already swollen to twice its normal size, and the

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