Small Town Justice(9)

Shane’s hands were good, she affirmed without hesitation. Judging by all the business he had coming and going, his reputation was sterling.

A perverse part of her wished he were not quite so honest or approachable or considerate. It would be a lot easier to work against the prejudices of this town if she didn’t have to worry about hurting such an amenable man.

Remember what the people here did to you and your poor family, she reminded herself. They banded together to convict your brother—and Shane Colton is one of them.

Jamie Lynn raised her eyes to watch him working. As little as twenty-four hours ago she’d had no trouble classifying Shane as just another narrow-minded local. Somehow, in that short span of time, she had begun seeing him as almost a friend, almost a potential ally. That was ridiculous, of course.

Trembling, yet decisive, Jamie Lynn snapped the leash on Ulysses before picking him up, got to her feet, smoothed the hem of the hospital garb she’d borrowed and walked straight out the door of the waiting room.

It was time to come clean.

* * *

Shane was startled when he heard someone at his elbow say, “Excuse me?”

“I told you I had a few things to see to before we left. Be patient, okay?”

“It’s not that,” she said. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Something in her tone slipped through his concentration and pulled him from his work as effectively as a lasso tightening around the neck of a bucking bronco. His glance swept the work area then returned to her. “This is about as private as it gets. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you to think I’ve been deceiving you.”

“Don’t tell me your truck is stolen.”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” She’d tucked Ulysses under her arm and was petting him.

“Won’t this wait?”

“Not really.”

“We can talk later while I drive you home.”

He saw her shake her head and marveled at the way her dark hair caught the light and gleamed as it moved. It was evident that once this woman got a notion to do or say something, nothing could stop her. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“My name used to be Jamie Lynn Henderson instead of Nolan.”

Scowling, Shane stared at her. “Okay.”

“I don’t think you fully understand,” she said.

Shane sensed the crackle of tension in the air and noted her easing away from him, although she’d barely moved. He faced her and folded his arms across his chest. “Spell it out for me.”

“Henderson doesn’t ring a bell?”

“There’s a town near Lake Norfork by that name.”

“Think closer to home, Shane. My mother’s name is Alice. Ray is my dad. And my brother is Ray Junior.”

Sensing that he was gaping at her, he snapped his jaw closed. “You’re that Henderson?”

“Yes.”

“Hold on. I don’t remember any daughter named Jamie Lynn.”

“Probably because my family always called me Baby Sister. I was in kindergarten before I knew that wasn’t my given name.”

“Why the charade?” Anger was building. Shane fought to keep it from spilling over and halting their conversation before he could learn more.

“It wasn’t a trick,” Jamie vowed. “My great-aunt adopted me years ago and gave me her last name. That’s why I can’t figure out why I was targeted so quickly after I hit town. It must be because I called the courthouse to inquire about my family and ask for the transcripts of my brother’s trial.”

“Go on.” His arms remained crossed, his eyes narrowing.

“I was kept in the dark as a child. When I was recently told that my mother ran away to save herself after my father disappeared, right here in your precious town, I decided to come back and see what else I could find out.”

“That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it? What if my brother wasn’t driving the car that hit your dad?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He was not only tried and convicted, he confessed.”

“Because he was threatened. So were my parents. Mom sent me to live with an aunt in New England during the trial to keep me out of danger.”

“That doesn’t prove a thing except that your mom was paranoid. Maybe your whole family was.”

As he continued to observe her, he saw her scan the parts of the garage she could see from where they stood. She was plainly nervous. Wary. Uncomfortable. Considering what she’d just admitted, he didn’t blame her.

If he’d had the option he would gladly have hauled her truck to another garage and washed his hands of her.

It didn’t dawn on him that his thoughts were so transparent until she said, “Look. I know you don’t really want to deal with my problems anymore. Try to think of me as just another nameless customer. Once we get through this, I promise I won’t bother you again.”