Читать книгу Small Town Justice - Valerie Hansen - Страница 12

FOUR

Shane hovered over her. “You just had to do things your way again, didn’t you?”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“Somebody ought to. What were you thinking? You couldn’t be more vulnerable if you’d been carrying a sign that said Shoot Me.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“This is no joke.” He offered his hand, wondering if she’d take it.

Jamie continued to crouch. “Is it safe now?”

“Yes. The shot came from a rusty blue pickup. It laid rubber all the way to the traffic light and kept going.”

Her fingers closed around Shane’s and he helped her rise. It wasn’t too surprising to see her swaying as she regained her balance. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, telling himself it was merely to keep her from collapsing. “You okay?”

“Yes. I never dreamed anybody would recognize me dressed like this,” she said, sounding breathless.

“It was probably easier because of Useless. I don’t imagine there are many women with such dark hair and a dog that looks like a dust mop with legs. That’s how I spotted you.”

“You were following me?”

“I shouldn’t have had to.” He paused long enough to give her the once-over. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“My pride is pretty bruised,” she said wryly.

“There’s a lot of glass in your hair.”

“Oh, dear.”

When she started to reach up he stopped her by tenderly clasping her wrist. “You need to let the police see you just as you are. I’m sure somebody in the crowd has called them by now.”

“Probably.” Jamie Lynn sighed. “If they’re not all too busy taking pictures with their phones.”

Shane stepped in front of her, forming a human shield. “It’s too late to keep your picture from ending up on the internet but we don’t need to give your attackers any more reasons to gloat.”

“Attackers? Plural again?”

He nodded soberly. “Looked like it. Judging by the direction the truck was heading, the driver couldn’t have hit this door. It had to be a passenger who could lean out the window and aim higher.”

“Wonderful. I suppose it’s the same two guys who tried to toast me yesterday.”

“There you go again,” he said with a shake of his head. “Why are you making light of these attacks? Don’t you realize that somebody is seriously trying to harm you?”

“Sure. Thing is, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is.”

She ducked out from under his protective arm and faced him more fully. “If you mean I should run and hide the way my mother did, forget it. Not gonna happen.”

“There’s nothing cowardly about using your head and being cautious. You act like you enjoy taunting whoever is out to hurt you.”

Shane watched myriad emotions flit across her face, ending with stubbornness. “Look. Whether you believe it or not, my brother is innocent. This town conspired to ruin his life and destroy my family—and succeeded. After all that, I guess I’ve gotten fatalistic.”

“What about trusting God? Maybe it was His plan to rescue you and you’ve interfered so much you’re way off track.”

The fire in her dark eyes and the set of her jaw told him plenty before she ever spoke.

“God gave up on me long ago.”

“How can you say that?”

“Easy.” Hearing the approach of sirens, Jamie Lynn scooped up Ulysses and started down the steep steps, one hand following the pipe railing for better balance. “I prayed for my big brother and he still ended up in prison. I prayed for my parents and they both deserted me and disappeared. I prayed to come home and when I finally got here, somebody tried to kill me.”

“That’s not God’s fault. We’re all responsible for the consequences of our personal choices.”

She paused long enough to turn and speak over her shoulder. “Yeah, well, I choose to stand on my own two feet. I have since I was ten.”

And that’s about the saddest thing you’ve said so far, Shane concluded as he watched her work her way through the mob. If he and his mother had not had their faith to comfort and uphold them when his dad, Sheriff Sam Colton, had been killed, they might not have even survived, let alone made new lives for themselves.

Which reminded him. He needed to touch base with his mom and Otis to fill them in before they learned the truth about Jamie from the town grapevine.

He smiled wryly. Given the speed of gossip in Serenity, it might already be too late.

Dropping back, Shane fisted his phone, pulled up her number and dialed. A familiar ringtone echoed from just across the street. Marsha had apparently left the beauty salon when she’d heard the ruckus and was now standing next to Jamie Lynn.

The call went to voice mail as Shane shoved his cell back in his pocket and headed toward them.

He was halfway there before he realized he didn’t know whether he was on his way to inform Marsha who she was comforting or was simply eager to rejoin the attractive woman with the glitter of broken glass in her hair.

The fact that he had to ask himself that question in the first place was more disconcerting than the potential answer.

* * *

“Please,” Jamie pleaded with the officer, “don’t make me go to the hospital again. I needed treatment the last time but this is just superficial.”

The deputy radioed information, listened, then nodded. “Okay. The chief says you can go. For now.” His pencil was poised over a small notebook he’d pulled from his uniform shirt pocket. “What’s your cell number and where are you staying?”

She recited her number, then pointed. “I’m at the Blue Jay motel, on the left past the stoplight.”

“Got it.” He handed back her driver’s license. “Don’t leave town.”

The irony almost made Jamie laugh aloud. She let herself grin at the young rookie. “You don’t have to worry. I plan to stick around.”

Marsha patted Jamie’s arm. “Come home with us. I’ll get that glass out of your hair for you and then we can share supper.”

“No, really. I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense. Otis and I almost always have guests.” She smiled at her son. “Shane and Kyle are regulars.”

That comment hit Jamie so hard she reached for Shane’s forearm and gripped tightly without thinking. “Kyle! Where is he? What did you do with him?”

“Relax. He’s fine. I saw my pastor’s wife coming out of the courthouse and dropped him off with her.”

A lungful of air whooshed out, deflating Jamie like a cheap balloon. “Oh.”

The look Shane was giving her was anything but amiable as he shook off her touch. “There was a time, just a few days ago, when I wouldn’t have been afraid to leave him on a bench on the courthouse lawn all by himself. Then you showed up.”

Marsha gasped. “Shane! What’s gotten into you?”

“Her,” he said with a shrug. “Has she told you who she is yet?”

Jamie Lynn was shaking her head. She hadn’t intended to spread the news quite this fast but, given the present circumstances, she saw little reason to hedge. Instead, she offered her hand to the older woman. “My original name was Jamie Lynn Henderson. My brother is serving time for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“You’re R.J.’s sister.” It wasn’t a query.

“Yes. I am.”

As she watched, shock was replaced by an unexpected aura of peace that washed over Shane’s mother and gave her a beatific appearance. She clasped Jamie’s hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. That trial was a terrible ordeal—for all of us.”

“Mother!”

Marsha eyed her son. “Oh, hush, Shane. This young woman wasn’t involved. We can’t choose who our relatives will be or control what they do.”

Although Jamie Lynn didn’t pull her hand away, she did say, “My brother’s confession was coerced. He wasn’t driving that night.”

The disgusted noise Shane made needed no translation. Jamie Lynn looked into Marsha’s misty blue gaze and said, “I’m just here to find the truth.”

Behind her she heard Shane add, “No matter who it hurts.”

“The truth can set us free,” Marsha quoted. “Will you be able to accept it if you learn that your brother actually was guilty?”

“Of course.” But would she? Jamie had believed so strongly that her well-loved sibling was innocent, she’d never considered finding evidence to the contrary. What if she did? What if their parents had been trying to protect them from worse emotional trauma by inventing the story about receiving criminal threats?

But if that were true, if the threats weren’t real, then why send their daughter away? And why split up when Jamie knew how devoted to each other they had been?

No. There was a lot more to this puzzle, to this town, than met the eye. And one of the best places to start getting to the bottom of everything was by keeping company with someone who’d had a vested interest in the whole scenario, right from the start.

She smiled slightly, hoping Marsha was ready for what she was about to say. “I’d like to take you up on your offer but now that you know exactly who I am, I’ll understand if you want to withdraw your invitation.”

“Nonsense. We’d love to have you.”

“And I’d love to come,” Jamie Lynn said, seeing Shane’s face flush. It wasn’t necessary to win him over or gain even partial cooperation. Marsha was the one who would know the most about the events surrounding the hit-and-run anyway. It was Marsha she needed to quiz.

Once again, her conscience reared its head, demanding attention. She reached for the older woman’s hand. “You need to be aware that I intend to keep probing and asking questions until I get satisfactory answers.”

“Fair enough.” Marsha smiled, the outer corners of her eyes wrinkling to accent sparkling irises.

Those were Kyle’s eyes, Jamie noted. The color reminded her of the ocean off the Atlantic coast; not exactly blue, not green, either, while Shane’s were more like the afterglow of a sunset in the forest, all brown and gold.

Perhaps it wasn’t the hues that made those people’s eyes different, she mused. Perhaps it was the personalities behind their glances, particularly in the case of Marsha. Someone had taken her beloved husband from her, yet she was willing to befriend a stranger who she knew was kin to the convicted killer.

What kind of person could manage to do that? Jamie Lynn asked herself. The invitation was evidently genuine and came without strings attached.

Of course, it also meant she’d have to be around Shane for the rest of the evening. That, alone, should have shown her that she was getting in over her head, yet Jamie dismissed the notion. She knew what she was doing. A casual, frank conversation with the family of R.J.’s supposed victim was exactly what she needed as a base on which to build.

She gently touched her scalp with the tip of one finger, wondering how anybody was going to be able to remove all those tiny pieces of glass without scratching her or clogging up their plumbing.

When she glanced over at Shane, she apparently caught him off guard because, instead of the anger she’d expected, she thought she glimpsed empathy.

Then again, he had shown concern by trailing her even after he’d learned who she was. His approach was not nearly as gentle as Marsha’s, of course. He had a macho image, not to mention a firm belief that his father’s killer had been caught and punished. Naturally he would resist an alternate solution. Anybody would.

She pulled her gaze away from Shane and concentrated on his mother. “May Ulysses and I hitch a ride with you to the motel? I really should freshen up and change before supper.”

“Of course.”

Although Jamie Lynn didn’t check Shane’s reaction, she saw Marsha do just that, then smile and say, “You go fetch my grandson. We girls will meet you back at the house.”

He huffed derisively. “Not on your life, Mom. Where that meddlesome woman goes, trouble follows. And so do I.”

“Okay. Then meet us at the motel,” Marsha said, looping her bent arm through Jamie’s. Her smile widened. “Since you’re so worried, I’ll take Kyle home to play with Otis and you can give Jamie Lynn a ride to the house later, when she’s ready.”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Shane shrugged. “All right. We’ll do it your way this time,” he told Marsha. “Just don’t forget who and what we’re dealing with. Somebody has it in for Ms. Henderson—Nolan—but good, and they don’t seem to have given up. Whenever you’re with her, you can become collateral damage.”

Hesitating, Jamie Lynn tugged on Marsha’s arm. “Wait. This is a bad idea all the way around. Shane’s right about people being after me. I don’t want to do anything to put your family in jeopardy.”

Marsha turned and clasped Jamie’s free hand in both of hers. “Honey, I was married to Sam Colton for almost twenty years. During that time he received threats of all kinds. If I was ever worried about some good old boys heaving bricks through my windows, or some such nonsense, I got over it long ago.”

“This could be a lot worse than a brick,” Jamie Lynn warned.

“Nothing can ever be worse than losing my Sam,” Marsha insisted. “When it’s my time to go, it’s my time. No human intervention can change that.”

“You believe in fate?”

The older woman was shaking her head. Her eyes were so kind they tugged at Jamie’s conscience even more.

“No. What I believe is that God loves me and has been looking after me since I was a child and first met Jesus.” Her grip tightened. “What about you? What do you believe?”

“That I have to be responsible for my own life because nobody else is,” Jamie said before thinking it through. When she saw pity in Marsha’s expression, she wished she’d chosen her words with more care.

Instead of commenting, however, Marsha merely turned and led her toward a newer white sedan. A click of a key fob unlocked the doors remotely and made the lights flash.

Jamie circled, passed her little dog across to Marsha, then sat sideways on the edge of the passenger seat and bent forward over the curbside to shake loose glass out of her hair.

Satisfied she’d done all she could, she swung her legs in, pulled Ulysses onto her lap and slammed the door. She desperately wanted to explain what she’d meant when she’d said that nobody else cared what became of her, but the right words failed to materialize. Aunt Tessie cared, yes. As for anyone else, who knew? Certainly not Jamie Lynn.

* * *

By the time Shane located Kyle and made suitable excuses to the gang of church ladies who had gathered to bemoan the fact that he’d passed his child off so easily, Marsha’s car had left the square. Since he already knew where she was headed and how close the cozy motel was to the middle of Serenity, he wasn’t worried about safety. The idiots who had taken a potshot at Jamie Lynn were bound to know better than to try anything else right away, particularly with the square swarming with cops.

He smiled, realizing that the Serenity version of a swarm of police was far different from a city show of force. Nevertheless, there were enough cops present to ensure that whoever had been targeting the Henderson/Nolan woman would be long gone. Good ole boys might be wild and rowdy but they weren’t stupid. They were, for the most part, endowed with the innate savvy of natural hunters and fishermen, particularly since that kind of outdoor activity was such a big part of their upbringing.

Even he could shoot well, Shane reminded himself. His dad had seen to that long ago. With Sam’s careful instruction had come safety lessons, too. Guns didn’t worry Shane except for Kyle’s presence in the home, so he kept the firearms separate from the ammo and locked each component in a different cabinet.

It occurred to him that perhaps he should ask his mother about his dad’s old service revolver. As long as there was a threat of violence, it would do his mom well to know where the weapon was and how to properly load it.

Kyle spotted his grandmother first. She was standing in front of the motel office as they came to a stop.

“Memaw!”

“That’s right, buddy. You’re going home with her and I’m coming later. Okay?”

“I wanna go see the doggie again.”

Shane heaved a sigh. “You will. He’s coming to Memaw and Otis’s for supper tonight.”

“Hooray!”

Yeah, big whoop, Shane thought as he unfastened his son’s safety belt and helped him out.

The child made a dash for Marsha. She bent to hug him, then straightened to speak to Shane. “Jamie’s in 6-B, down this first hallway.”

“Why tell me? I’m waiting right out here.”

“I know. That’s what I told her. I...” She scowled. “I’m just worried about her, that’s all.”

“You have too soft a heart, Mom.”

“Don’t give me that much credit, honey. When she first told me who she was, I didn’t have very Christian thoughts.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t.” He spoke quietly, leaning closer. “Be very careful what you tell her. She can be trouble. She’s already caused plenty.”

“Is that her fault?” Marsha asked. “I mean, all she’s doing is asking questions about why her brother was sent to prison. If there’s nothing wrong with his conviction, why does it look like somebody’s really upset with her? Maybe she’s onto something.”

Shane’s eyebrows arched. “Are you serious? How can you even think of anybody reopening Dad’s case? Didn’t it hurt enough fourteen years ago?”

The look in his mother’s eyes and the slight droop of her shoulders told him he’d overstepped. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that misery again.”

“It won’t be the same,” Marsha explained. “I’m not the same. It’s hard to explain. All I can say is that your father’s death affected me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.”

“You did seem to take it better than I’d expected.”

She smiled slightly and nodded. “I had my moments. Still do. Once in a while, some thought or outside trigger will set me off and I can’t stop crying.”

“You never told me that.”

“Of course not. You had your own grief when you were younger, and then your marriage crashed. Why would I add worry about my crazy feelings if I didn’t have to?”

“Because I care?”

“Of course you do. I still miss your dad every day, yet I know it’s foolish to grieve the way I did when he first left this world.”

“Which is why you’re okay with that woman digging up the past?”

“That’s part of it.” Shane saw her countenance harden. “The other part is personal. I want to know who killed my Sam as much as she does.”

“We know who did it.”

“Do we?” Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed. “If Sam had been able to investigate that hit-and-run himself, I wonder who he’d have arrested.”