Читать книгу Truth Be Told - Barbara McMahon - Страница 8

JO DIDN’T ROAR INTO Maraville on her Harley. She drove a candy-apple-red convertible she’d rented at the New Orleans airport. The air blew in her short dark hair, giving the illusion of coolness until she stopped. Then the sultry Mississippi heat enveloped her, and the sun seemed to burn right through her hair to her scalp. Her skin glistened with perspiration. She was no longer used to the humidity. L.A. heated up plenty in the summer, but it was a dry heat. She’d heard that so many times she couldn’t count, but until today, she hadn’t realized how true it was. She’d been gone too long.

Driving slowly down Main Street, she looked with interest at the town she’d grown up in. After the sprawl of Los Angeles it seemed tiny and quiet. The old brick buildings looked dirty and tired. For the most part, the cars were sedans, sedate and suitable for old folks. Who traveled far in Maraville? She didn’t see the big SUVs that were so prevalent in Southern California, nor the “beater” cars gangs used, or the fancy foreign jobs seen rolling along Rodeo Drive.

People on the sidewalk stopped and stared. A stranger still drew notice in town. She resisted an urge to wave just to see what they’d do. But she wasn’t here to stir things up. She’d come to make her peace with Maddie Oglethorpe, if she wasn’t too late.

As she glided by Ruby’s Café, Jo’s mouth watered in memory. She’d spent a lot of time there eating burgers and fries. She wondered if they still tasted as good as she remembered.

As she drove away from the center of town, she caught the eye of a law-enforcement officer about to get into a car emblazoned with the sheriff’s shield. Maraville wasn’t big enough to afford a police force and so it used the same law enforcement the entire county did. The man getting into the patrol car didn’t look anything like Sheriff Halstead, the man who’d manipulated things to suit himself and the good citizens of Maraville, and shipped Jo off rather than deal with her accusations.

She should have come back sooner and set the record straight. But who would have believed her? Nothing had changed in the interim. Now it was too late. The statute of limitations had long run out even if she could get someone in authority to believe her.

The man watched her as she went by. She’d toned down a few things about her appearance for this homecoming, but the black tank top that showed her tanned, muscular arms was as out of place in summertime Maraville as her black jeans and motorcycle boots. Her hair was slightly spiked. She’d come back to make a statement, as well as apologize, she admitted. And if they didn’t like it, too bad. No one had stood up for her in this town. She was going to show them she needed no one. And if she shocked a few people, so much the better.

No one messed with Jo Hunter when she was in battle dress, and she figured she needed all the help she could get.

When her friend Tyler Jones had dropped her off at the airport in Los Angeles, he’d shaken his head and asked why she dressed like that when flying. Didn’t she know what a red flag she was waving?

Since Jo had never flown before, she hadn’t a clue how uptight the flight attendants might get. Fortunately, she took some of Tyler’s advice to heart and bought a colorful short-sleeved shirt at an airport shop to cover the black tank top. Coupled with softening her hairstyle and keeping her expression bland, she felt she more or less fit in with the other travelers.

Still, she had been wanded and her boots double-checked by security. And the flight attendants eyed her suspiciously the entire flight.

Continuing without another look at the cop, she headed for the house on Poppin Hill. If Heller’s story had been true, Maddie was most likely in the hospital, but Jo needed to see the place, to sort of ground herself. She was stalling and she knew it. But it wouldn’t hurt just to see the house before she searched for Maddie.

She almost laughed when the cop pulled in behind her—keeping far enough back not to crowd her, but definitely on her tail. How predictable. Would he follow her all the way up to the house?

She turned onto the curved, crushed-shell driveway. The old house, hidden by trees and shrubbery, couldn’t be seen from the road. She rounded the bend and the Victorian structure came into view, so out of place in Mississippi, with its antebellum architecture. If painted, it would fit in fine in San Francisco. The windows looked empty and blind. Yet flowers bloomed in garden patches, the lawn was mowed and two vehicles were parked in the driveway near the back door.

She pulled to a stop behind one of them, a white van, and killed the engine. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she realized the cop had not followed her into the driveway.

She opened her car door, stepped out and looked around. The familiar scents filled her head with memories. The sticky heat wrapped around her just as it had all those summer days so long ago. Jo was surprised by the pang she felt. One of homecoming and welcome. Stupid. There was no welcome for her here.

She heard a radio and the sound of a power saw from within the house, muffled slightly because of the closed windows. She could also hear the dull roar of the air-conditioning unit at the far corner of the house. That hadn’t been here before.

Was the house still Maddie’s? Was she in time, or had the woman already died and the estate been settled? Heller hadn’t told her much, and she had not followed up before coming as fast as she could.

Nervous at what she’d find, she stepped up onto the back porch. Wiping damp palms against her dark pants, she rapped on the door, remembering how she used to barrel into the kitchen after school, hungry for food and Maddie’s approval. She wasn’t looking for that anymore. Funny how some memories just popped into mind.

“It’s open,” a voice called.

Jo turned the knob and pushed the door.

A familiar scene assailed her. For a moment she felt like a teenager again. Eliza stood at the stove cooking. The aroma of the bubbling sauce filled Jo’s nostrils and made her mouth water. Rock music blared from a radio in the room. And now the sound of someone hammering could be heard in the background.

Just as Eliza turned, April came through the door from the hallway.

“Honestly, if I ever reach her, I’m getting her address and sending her an answering machine. This is so frustrating—” She stopped and stared at Jo. Eliza turned and stared at her, too. For a long moment all three were motionless.

“Jo?” Eliza said.

“Jo, where have you been?” April asked, rushing across the room to throw her arms around her, Eliza only two steps behind.

A lump gathered in Jo’s throat. She was home. And greeted with a welcome she didn’t deserve. Eliza and April were both here. She couldn’t believe it.

“Jo, we’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

“How did you know to come home right now?”

“How are you?”

“What have you been doing?”

“Look at you!”

Jo felt the suspicious sting of tears. She never cried.

“You look fantastic,” Eliza said, standing back to look her up and down, a wide smile on her face. “Omigosh, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“We’ve been trying to reach you for days,” April said. “Why don’t you get an answering machine?”

“I can’t believe you’re both here,” Jo said. “I thought we were scattered to the winds. If I’d known, I’d have come back sooner. I never expected to see either of you again.” Eliza and April had been Jo’s best friends for most of her growing-up years. They’d lost touch after that fateful day. Seeing them again felt as if nothing had changed.

“We were scattered to the winds. I was living in Boston until about a month and a half ago,” Eliza said.

“And I live in Paris,” April said, smiling happily. “I’ve been back a few weeks. And we finally tracked you down to L.A. Could we have been living farther apart? How did you know to come home? Instinct?”

Jo shook her head, trying to assimilate all the news. “You’ve been trying to reach me?”

“Yes, we got your phone number in L.A. At least we think it’s yours.” April rattled off the number.

Jo nodded.

“I’ve been calling for days,” April said again. “You’re here now. I can’t believe it. Come in. Let me shut the door. This heat is horrific.”

She reached behind Jo and started to close the door, then hesitated.

“Sam’s here,” she said.

Eliza looked over her shoulder. “Sam Witt? Wonder why?”

Jo turned and saw the sheriff climb out of his car.

“Probably making sure I’m not stealing the silver,” she said, watching him as he approached the back door. He was tall and nicely put together. His hair was dark, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The uniform was immaculate, despite the heat and humidity. He looked to be in his early thirties, much younger than the former sheriff.

Jo’s two old friends looked at her, and April wrinkled her nose. “You do look like biker trash in that outfit. What’s with all the black? It’s not your best color.”

Before Jo could reply, Sam stepped up on the back porch and peered in through the screen door.

“Everything all right, ladies?” he asked.

Eliza stepped around Jo and pushed open the screen door. “Come in and meet Jo. She just showed up.”

Sam stepped inside, his expression guarded. He took off the sunglasses, and Jo was surprised at the velvet darkness of his eyes. His assessing look, however, was one she was familiar with. The good sheriff didn’t trust her. He gave her a look law enforcement the world over knew. But if the mood took her, she could give as good as she got.

Right now, Jo felt a spurt of amusement. She knew what he thought. She had left her gun at home, not wanting to have to explain it on the airplane. But she did have her badge and credentials, and courtesy demanded she tell the sheriff. An imp of mischief stilled her tongue.

“Jo Hunter, of Los Angeles?” he said.

She inclined her head.

“We had a hard time locating you.”

“She ended up coming home without us,” April said. “I never got an answer on her phone. She just showed up.”

“I heard about Maddie,” Jo said quietly. “How is she?” She held her breath, hoping she wasn’t too late.

“Me, too,” Eliza said. “That’s why I came, because of her stroke. She’s doing better. Then I found April’s number and called her. We’ve been searching for you for weeks. It’s so good to see you!” Eliza reached out and rubbed Jo’s arm. Jo remembered Eliza had always been a touchy person. No one had touched Jo in friendship in a long time.

Jo looked around the old kitchen before she got all sentimental. “Not much seems to have changed. You’re still cooking.” Then she looked at April, in a gauzy sundress that floated around her legs, and smiled. “Fancy dress for lazing around the house,” she said.

“Same old Jo—two minutes getting dressed and then you’re ready for the day,” April replied.

Jo laughed, then swung her gaze to the sheriff. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Sheriff. I heard about Maddie and came back to see her.” She turned to Eliza. “Is she really doing better?”

“Recovering more and more every day,” her friend answered. “She’ll want to see you right away. We told her we were searching. She hired a private detective to find you and April a few years ago. That’s how I located April, but the detective didn’t find you.”

“Mary Jo Hunter,” Sam murmured. “Everyone thought Jo was your only name.”

“Yeah, well, Mary is only used on official documents,” she said. It felt odd to be standing in the kitchen, talking as if they hadn’t been away for more than twelve years. She half expected Maddie to come in to ask if they didn’t have something better to do than stand around wasting time.

“Oops, better check dinner,” Eliza said, dashing back to the stove. “Bring in your suitcase, Jo, and plan to stay here. April and I are both already in residence. You won’t believe what’s going on. The house is being renovated, so it’s a mess. We’re planning a fund-raiser at the Independence Day fair for Maddie’s medical expenses. We have so much to catch up on! And after dinner, you can go see Maddie. She’s doing a lot better than when I first saw her—she’s walking with help and can sit up on her own. She can’t talk very well, though.”

“Aphasia,” April said. “Scrambled lines between her mind and her mouth. But she understands everything—at least we think she does. And she can write, after a fashion, but it takes her forever to get a sentence down. There’s hope one day she’ll fully recover.” She turned to Sam. “Can you stay for dinner?”

“Thanks, but not tonight—I’m on duty,” he said. “Is Jack coming over?”

“Of course.” April smiled at him and then at Jo. “I just got engaged!” She waved a sparkling diamond in front of Jo’s face. “To the most wonderful man in the world. When he isn’t driving me crazy, that is.”

Jo grabbed her hand and looked at the ring. The solitaire looked feminine and delicate on April’s slender finger.

“Congratulations. Anyone I know?”

“Jack Palmer, former correspondent for CNN and the department head for a new project starting next month. You’ll meet him at dinner.”

“And you’ll see Cade again,” Eliza said. “Remember him?”

“Sure. You two have a bunch of kids now?” Jo asked.

“No. Things happened. Actually, before I came home a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen him since that day—” Eliza stopped suddenly.

Jo knew exactly what day she meant.

Into the awkward silence, Eliza waved her left hand again and announced, “But we’re getting married—as soon as Maddie’s able to attend. Sorry you can’t stay, Sam. Another night, then.”

“Count on it.” He nodded to Eliza and April and gave Jo another thoughtful look before returning to his car and leaving.

Things were not what she’d expected, Jo thought as April handed her a glass of iced tea and told her to sit at the table. She tried to grasp the various nuances. The sheriff was a friend. Of course, he was nothing like the sheriff who’d held office when she was a teenager. April lived in Paris. As in France? She’d have to get that straight. It seemed as if a time warp had happened. Eliza and Cade were getting married—about ten years later than Jo had expected. She had a lot to catch up on.

“This will simmer for a while,” Eliza said, putting the wooden spoon on a holder on the counter and turning back to Jo and April. “Let’s get your bags and find you a room. The second floor is a mess. I figure you can have that back corner bedroom. I don’t think they’ve started in there.”

“It’s pretty small,” April said.

“I don’t have to stay here,” Jo said. She felt uncomfortable. They acted as if she weren’t to blame for breaking them up. Didn’t they know? If not, she knew she’d have to explain the events that led up to their being sent to different foster homes twelve years ago. She was surprised the topic hadn’t been the first thing out of their mouths.

“Of course you’ll stay here,” April stated. “Where else would you go? Besides, Maddie will be coming home before too much longer. Think how much fun it will be to have all her girls under one roof.”

“I can’t stay that long,” Jo said quickly. They obviously didn’t know. This welcome and friendliness was all going to change when she told them what she’d done. No use setting herself up for the fall.

“Well, for however long you are in town, plan to stay here,” Eliza said. “Is your suitcase in your car?”

“Just a small one.” Enough for a couple of changes of clothes. How long could it take to apologize and make sure Maddie didn’t need anything? She probably wouldn’t want anything from Jo even if she did need something. But there were ways to get around that.

“I’ll get it,” Eliza said. “April, find some sheets that aren’t layered in dust.”

“What’s with all the construction?” Jo asked.

“This house is going to become a home for pregnant, unwed teenagers,” April said. “It’s Cade’s idea, but one Maddie was all for. And no wonder. Oh, there’s so much to tell you!”

“Wait until I get there,” Eliza warned, heading out the back door toward Jo’s car.

Five minutes later April and Jo were working together to make the single bed in the small upstairs room. It had not been used when the girls lived in the house. The windows looked over the backyard. The entire room wasn’t much bigger than a closet, but it would be fine for one short-term visitor.

“Okay, so bring me up to date,” Jo said, sitting on the newly made bed.

“You first. Whatever in the world possessed you to tell Sheriff Halstead that Maddie beat you?” Eliza asked, standing at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips.

Jo glanced at April, who also stared at her. They did know! She hated to talk about it but knew she had to offer some explanation. She glanced at her finger.

“Remember this?” She raised the finger and showed her scar.

Eliza stepped forward and touched her finger to Jo’s. “I have a scar, too.”

“Me, too,” April said, reaching over to complete the ritual. “All for one and one for all.”

Jo heard the echo of younger voices. They’d become blood sisters that day.

“I messed up,” she said, slowly bringing down her hand.

“I’ll say,” Eliza concurred. “Why?”

“I told Maddie what happened and she didn’t believe me.” Even after all these years, Maddie’s refusal to believe her had the power to hurt. “Accused me of lying, of trying to protect one of the boys from school, of trying to—” Jo stopped. The words would resound in her mind forever. “Never mind. I need to talk to Maddie. I was punishing her by telling the authorities she’d beaten me. When I tried to tell the sheriff the truth later, he threatened to put me in jail for lying. How could I know back then that it was a bluff? I believed him.”

“We wondered why nothing beyond sending us away had happened,” April said. “Eliza had Sam look into it.”

“I say we use the fund-raiser in July to set the record straight,” Eliza said.

“What do you propose—a banner declaring Maddie innocent?” April asked.

“So she didn’t get into trouble for my lies?” Jo asked. The fear that Maddie had gone to jail or lost her home or worse had always hovered over her.

Eliza sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “Nope. We got sent away, and that seemed to be it. And we don’t need a banner. We just need to be ready to answer questions.”

April nodded, perching on the other side of the bed. “Sam told Jack that the whole thing was badly documented. There didn’t appear to be any attempt to make an arrest. And who, even back then, would believe Maddie beat you up? You were taller, younger, athletic.”

“What really happened? Who beat you?” Eliza asked softly.

Jo looked at them, then shook her head. “Let me talk to Maddie first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

“She’s at the hospital. We can go over now if you like,” April said, reaching over to grab a pillow and stuff it into a case. “Or after dinner, so we can stay and visit longer.”

“I need to go by myself,” Jo said.

The other two looked at each other and nodded.

“We know you didn’t stay with your next foster parents,” April said, tossing the pillow at the head of the bed and leaning back on the footboard. “What happened?”

Jo flipped open her ID case and lobbed it onto the center of the bed. The golden badge gleamed. Her photo on the identification card stared up at them.

“You’re a cop!” Eliza said, grabbing the ID and reading the card. “A Los Angeles police officer.” She burst out laughing and handed the card to April.

April grinned as she took it. “We all thought you might have been in jail somewhere, a criminal—not arresting criminals.”

“A criminal!” Jo felt offended.

Eliza nodded, her eyes brimming with laughter. “You were always getting into trouble—skipping school, hanging out with those guys who were bad news.”

“Hey, Josiah Heller is the one who told me about Maddie.” Not that his revelation was altruistic.

“Can you arrest whoever attacked you?” April asked, handing back the leather case.

“The statute of limitations has run out, and I’m not living in this jurisdiction. I’m here to apologize to Maddie, nothing more.” Though she had thought over the years how she’d like to make the man pay. Maybe something would come of her visit, but she didn’t have high hopes.

“Mending fences is a good thing, especially now that we’re all together again,” Eliza said. “You’ll have to stay for the fair.”

“And my wedding,” April said.

“What are you talking about?” Jo asked.

“Which, the fair or the wedding?” April asked.

“You told me about the fair. Are you really getting married that quickly?”

“As soon as Maddie’s able to attend. Doesn’t seem quick to me.”

“And everyone in the county shows up at the fair, making it the perfect place for you to show your support by helping out, and making sure anyone who asks knows Maddie never beat you,” Eliza said. “That’s even better than we planned. Since you gave the false information, you can set the record straight.”

“Like anyone is going to listen to me,” Jo muttered. No one had twelve years ago.

“I bet people in L.A. listen to you,” April said. “How else could you do your job?”

“They don’t know the situation.”

Eliza frowned. “Well, I’m thinking we don’t know it, either.”

Jo nodded. “Just let me talk to Maddie and I’ll tell you everything—if it’s okay with her.”

Jo leaned back on the pillow propped against the headboard and looked at the two women who’d once been closer to her than sisters. “So tell me all that’s been going on with you two,” she invited.

In the time before dinner Eliza filled Jo in on her move to Boston and becoming a chef. April regaled her with her account of becoming a model in Paris and then startled Jo when she told her she’d been married twice. But the biggest surprise was that she’d just discovered Maddie was her biological grandmother!

Jo listened, glad her friends’ lives had turned out so well. She would have felt far worse than she had if other lives had been ruined because of her. She’d always figured she deserved what she got, but Eliza and April hadn’t.

They were still talking when Cade arrived. Eliza dashed downstairs the moment she heard his voice, though Jo didn’t know how she could distinguish it from the voices of the construction workers.

“Jack’ll be here soon,” April said, rising. “Freshen up and come meet him.” Spontaneously, she reached over and hugged Jo. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Jo watched April go, closing the door behind her. She was back in Maraville, but nothing was as she’d thought it would be.

How amazing to find both April and Eliza here. And both engaged to be married. When she’d allowed herself to think about them over the years, she’d always envisioned them married with the families they used to talk about having one day. In her case, she had no dreams of building a family. There was plenty to do on her job. The fact she’d never met a man she felt she could trust also played a big part in her decision. She’d leave romance to April and Eliza.

Jo went to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The construction crew had finally left. Dust wafted in the air. She peeked in the door of the room Eliza had always had and saw a new connecting bath between her room and the room she herself used to use.

She moved to the door of her old room and went in. Surprised to see everything almost as she’d left it except for the new door to the connecting bath, she studied the posters and announcements on the old bulletin board. Together they captured moments of time in a teenage girl’s life.

At last she pushed away and went to freshen up. She wasn’t that same girl. Time had moved along and so had she. After seeing Maddie, she’d have to decide if she would stay for Independence Day. Small towns had long memories. Jo knew she didn’t want to be the focus of gossip and speculation for days on end. Yet…she owed Maddie. It would be little enough to endure if the record were set straight.

Where was Allen McLennon these days? He and Maddie had been dating for several months before Jo’s attack. Maddie had believed Allen, not Jo. Was he still lording it over people? Wouldn’t the town be shocked to learn the truth about the lofty town banker?

When she entered the kitchen a short time later, Eliza was dishing up some delectable sauce and spreading it over pasta. April poured iced tea into tall glasses. Cade Bennett was setting the table. He looked older, of course, and had filled out nicely. There was another man Jo didn’t recognize, undoubtedly April’s fiancé.

“Here she is,” April said, spotting her. “Come and meet Jack.”

Introductions were made. Cade greeted her, and before long all were seated at the old table enjoying Eliza’s cooking.

Jo felt odd sitting with the two couples. Eliza and April bubbled with excitement at her arrival. Cade seemed as easygoing as always. Jack Palmer, on the other hand, studied her as if he didn’t trust her. No biggie. She was used to going it alone. And she did not begrudge Eliza or April their happiness. She just felt like a fifth wheel.

“Seen Maddie yet?” Cade asked.

“Going after dinner,” she said. “She’s still at the hospital, April said.”

Cade nodded. “Want a lift?”

“Thought I’d walk.”

“We’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” Eliza said. “It’s nice to be able to walk so many places without needing a car.”

“Be strange for an Angeleno, I expect,” Jack said.

“Right. I always drive everywhere. Usually on my Harley.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose.

“Motorcycle?” Cade asked with a grin. “Do you really have a Harley?”

She nodded. “Traffic is a bitch, so I have a bike. I can weave through the stopped cars to get to where I’m going faster.”

“Dangerous,” Eliza murmured.

Jo shrugged. “So far so good.” She was a careful driver, but liked the mobility the bike gave compared to cars in the L.A. freeway traffic. When she’d first bought the bike, it was used, and the only thing she could afford. But she didn’t need to share that—not with Jack looking like he wanted to dissect her every word.

“Tell me about Paris,” she said, hoping to turn the attention away from herself. She felt uncomfortable with everyone watching. April took the bait and Jo began to relax as she listened to her friend talk about her career, her apartment on the Left Bank, and the fun of visiting European capitals on someone else’s tab.

Dinner ended with strawberry shortcake eaten on the porch. The evening stayed light late at the end of June, and the citronella candles kept the mosquitoes at bay. Jo felt suddenly very grown-up, sitting on the porch as Maddie and some of her ladies’ club friends had done. Talking with other grown-ups. What would life have been like if that night had never happened? Once again she regretted not handling things differently. But it always got back to Maddie’s not believing her, then her anger, and her fear.

Time ticked by. Jo finished her coffee and put the cup down with a click. Conversation stopped and everyone looked at her.

“Guess I’ll be heading for the hospital.” She felt like she was heading for an execution. But she couldn’t put it off any longer.

“She’s on the second floor,” Eliza said. “She’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Jo doubted that. But this was something she needed to do. To make amends if she could, to apologize at the very least.

She headed out, enjoying the evening air. It felt strange to be walking. Even stranger to see so few cars on the road. Where she lived in L.A., she couldn’t even get to the store without driving through heavy traffic.

Jo turned onto Main Street. It looked the same, except for a few changes in storefronts. Ruby’s Café was bustling with teenagers and a handful of older folks. She’d have to stop in and have a burger before she left Maraville.

The video store was open, customers wandering through the rows of movies. Most of the other stores had closed at six. She wondered if there were any all-night places in town, then had to remind herself this was Maraville, not L.A.

Moments later Jo approached the hospital. The parking lot was less than half full, the emergency entrance quiet. The brick building was small compared to the hospitals she frequently visited in the line of duty. This one had been built to serve the county and was rarely used to capacity.

She reached the wide double doors and stopped. Beyond the threshold she could see the brightly lit lobby, with a woman at an information desk. A couple sat near the elevators as if waiting for someone. A man passed her and held the door.

She took a breath and shook her head. She wasn’t ready.

She had come from California for this express purpose, and yet she couldn’t make herself walk inside.

Jo wasn’t sure how long she stood outside the doors before turning and retracing her steps. She would have to come back tomorrow. Tonight was impossible.

When she reached the town square, she found an empty bench and sat. In the playground area of the nearby park, children laughed and shrieked as they slid down the slide or were pushed higher and higher on the swings by indulgent parents. A woman walked her dog on the far side. The scene was…peaceful. Unlike her neighborhood in L.A.

Jo had a thousand memories of Maraville. Many good. She should focus on those. It had been a quiet, sleepy, Southern town. Nothing inherently bad. All places had bad people living in them. She couldn’t condemn an entire town because of one man.

“Taking a walk down memory lane?” a familiar voice asked.

She looked up and to her left. Sam Witt stood there. She hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Sort of.”

He sat on the bench beside her. “Nice time of day,” he said, taking off his hat and putting it on the bench between them.

“Mmm.” She wasn’t up to small talk with the sheriff. Her own badge was burning a hole in her back pocket. She should give him the courtesy of identifying herself. But right now to do anything seemed too much effort.

“Been to see Maddie?” he guessed.

“Went there, didn’t go in,” she confessed.

“Tough visiting someone sick,” he said.

“I screwed up. I need to apologize.” She could never make up for the damage her accusation caused. Was it that thought that kept her from going in tonight? Or fear of the repudiation she expected from Maddie?

She hated knowing she was just plain scared.

“I looked into your file, you know,” he said. “Sloppy piece of police work. There was never a resolution to the crime. No charges were filed, no suspicions even noted.”

“I’m sure there weren’t. Sheriff Halstead didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t even report the person you accused,” Sam said.

Jo knew he was fishing. Maybe it was too late to do anything about the crime against her, but she hated that the man had gotten away with it. What could she do to let people know the truth? Had he tried to rape other young girls since she’d left? The thought made her shudder. Yet when she’d told the law, nothing had been done.

She needed to talk to Maddie first, then she’d open up to Sam Witt. A sheriff ought to know what was going on in his jurisdiction.

SAM LEANED BACK ON the bench, wondering why he was trying to make conversation with a woman who obviously didn’t want to talk. His effort wasn’t all about trying to learn what really happened twelve years ago. He sensed an aloneness in her that was at odds with her attitude. He chastised himself. So now he was playing Dudley Do-Right? Trying to make everything okay for this stranger? Patty would say it was like him.

The thought of his wife brought the familiar ache into focus. Three years and he still missed her.

“Seem odd to be back?” he asked, refocusing on the situation at hand.

She nodded, not looking at him, her gaze on the children in the park.

“Staying long?” Getting her to talk was worse than interrogating hardened criminals.

She turned and looked at him. “I’m here for as long as I want to be. You have a problem with that?”

He recognized the cocky attitude as a cover-up. Touchy. “Not as long as you don’t cause any problems.”

She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, flipping it open with practiced ease.

The gleam of the gold badge caught his eye. He took the wallet and read the identification card. Jo was a detective with the LAPD. That did surprise him. He tossed it back to her and studied her for a moment.

Just to yank her chain, he said, “Still, don’t be causing trouble in my town.”