Small Town Justice(32)
“People he suspected?”
“Yes. I don’t know why he didn’t take his suspicions to our pastor, Logan Malloy. Logan was a detective before he became a clergyman.”
“Perhaps he did,” Marsha offered. “Pastor Malloy would keep that kind of thing to himself.”
“Even after dad was killed? I wonder.”
Sitting ramrod straight, Jamie Lynn folded her hands atop the files still resting on her lap. “All right. I’ll go. But we need to prepare. How are you going to introduce me—as a Nolan or a Henderson?”
“It won’t really matter,” Shane replied. “Those you want to investigate probably already know who you really are. Otherwise, why would somebody keep trying to scare you off?”
“Good point.” She clenched her fingers together more tightly, hoping to still their trembling and mask her inner turmoil. Was she up to facing the men who had framed her brother? Suppose she was wrong about them? About everything? What if others were behind the killing of the former sheriff?
A shiver shot up her spine and prickled the hairs at the nape of her neck as her thoughts took another turn. What if R.J. was one of those others?
Shane leaned closer and slipped the remaining folders off her lap, returning them to the storage box. “I think we’ve seen enough for one night.”
Agreeing, Marsha reached to pat Jamie’s clenched hands. “This has been a rough day for everybody. I say we meet for church tomorrow, then go out to eat the way we usually do and discuss things further.”
That brought Jamie out of herself. “I don’t know if I brought proper clothes.”
“Nonsense, dear. As long as you’re wearing the best you have, nobody will think poorly of you. We may have a few rotten apples in the barrel—every church does—but the rest of us are a friendly, accepting bunch. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. And, truth to tell, everybody sins. If we had to be perfect to go to church, there isn’t a one of us who would qualify for membership.”
“I’d never thought of it that way.”
Shane chuckled. “Except maybe for me. I’m perfect.” He adeptly ducked the playful swat his mother aimed his way.
“He was a little stinker when he was a boy,” Marsha said. “But I will admit he’s always had a strong sense of right and wrong. It just didn’t keep him from choosing to get in trouble from time to time.” She gazed fondly at her sleeping grandson. “Kyle’s a chip off the old block.”
“The brightest ones tend to be like that,” Jamie said. “Plus, he’s sure to try to take advantage of any adult who feels sorry for him not having a second parent. That’s normal.”
Smiling with melancholy, Marsha sighed and said, “I hope and pray he gets over it.”
“I did,” Jamie insisted. “All he needs is plenty of love and a stable home life.”
Although the older woman was nodding as if in agreement, Shane had furrowed his brow and tilted his head. Jamie Lynn faced him. “You don’t agree?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, speaking softly. “If you were truly healed, would you still be looking for a way to rewrite your past?”
“That’s not what I’m doing. Not at all. You know exactly why your wife left and probably where she went. My family was torn apart and my parents vanished.” She gestured toward the others. “If your mom went missing, wouldn’t you sacrifice anything to find her?”
“Of course I would.”
“Then try to understand my position. I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. Everything revolves around your father’s death. I don’t believe it was an accident and neither should you.”
She reached for her paper and pencil, flipped to a fresh page and began to sketch a timeline. “Look at it this way. First, Sam is suspicious. He makes notes and starts investigating. He’s killed. There are no witnesses in spite of the fact that my brother never partied alone. He was drunk out of his mind that night so I don’t know how he could walk, let alone drive. Maybe he was in the car that hit the sheriff, maybe he wasn’t.”
“Go on.”
“R.J. keeps insisting he’s innocent until halfway through his trial when my father disappears. By this time, Mom has already sent me away. R.J. changes his plea, gets convicted, and right after that my mother runs, leaving no trace.”
“You make a convincing case,” Shane admitted, “but it all hinges on whether or not my dad’s death was an accident.”
“You’ve read his notes. What do you think?” She was holding her breath, hoping he’d see her logic.