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She was a survivor. She had the battle scars to prove it.
But the reality was different from fantasy. Sam was right. No one would believe her without proof. McLennon had had years to polish his image. Anyone who remembered her would recall a trouble-making teenager who’d turned on her foster mother. The perpetrator was living life high on the hog, and no one really wanted her back in Maraville. Maybe Eliza and April, but they both had new directions in life.
She was feeling sorry for herself.
Muttering an expletive, Jo finished the last of her iced tea and took the plate and glass back inside. She was not going to have a private pity party. There were things she could do to find the facts to support her claim. If not, her belief in justice would be sorely tried. Taking a deep breath, she tried to rationalize her plans. The first step was asking for an official investigation.
Fifteen minutes later Jo walked into the sheriff’s department. The dispatcher pointed her in the direction of Sam’s office. When she arrived, she recognized his secretary.
“Marjorie?” Jo said.
“Jo Hunter! I heard they were trying to find you. No one told me they did and that you were back already.” She jumped up and came around to give Jo a hug. Jo awkwardly returned it. Had she forgotten how touchy-feely people were in the South?
“Goodness, April and I are on the phone all the time,” Marjorie said in a rush. “She didn’t tell me!”
“I just got here yesterday. She’ll be calling, I’m sure.” Jo glanced around. The place hadn’t changed much from the day old Sheriff Halstead had brought her in and listened to her account of the incident. Dismissing every word as a lie.
“Sam in?” she asked. If he were, would he see her? Take her statement and really read it?
“Sure is. He’s on the phone but should be finished soon. Have a seat. Where have you been all these years and what have you been doing?”
“I live in L.A.,” Jo said, sitting gingerly on the edge of one of the visitor chairs.
“Hollywood?” Marjorie sat beside Jo. “Do you get to see movie stars all the time?”
Jo shook her head. “Sometimes I see one or two, but I’m not on that detail.”
“You’re a cop?” Marjorie guessed.
“Yup. Detective.” Jo said it with pride. She’d fought long and hard to get where she was, and she was damned proud of it.
“Isn’t that a kick? I bet Maddie’s as proud as a peacock about that. She must be so happy to have all her chicks back. We’re all pulling for her recovery, you know.”
“Thank you.” Jo was taken aback that Marjorie seemed to discount entirely the cloud under which she’d left.
“You here to talk about that night twelve years ago?” Marjorie asked, voice lowered.
“The sheriff said earlier I could come in and make a statement.”
“There wasn’t anything in the file,” Marjorie said, voice still low.
“You think Sam will let me look at the records?”
“Why, sure he will. He gave a copy to that Jack Palmer when he and April were hunting for you. There’s not much. I looked at it myself. Sheriff Halstead wasn’t quite the law enforcement man Sam is. I worked for Halstead for two years before Sam came. What a world of difference.”
“What happened to Halstead?” Jo asked. Maybe she could tackle the man after seeing Sam.
“He died a couple of years ago—heart attack. That’s what got Sam appointed to the job. Then he won the election last year. Otherwise I expect the good ol’ boy network would have kept the man in office forever. Oops, the line is free, which means Sam’s off the phone,” Marjorie said. She rose and went to the door near her desk, knocked and stuck her head in.
A second later she pushed it open and gestured to Jo.
For a second, walking into Sam’s office felt like walking into the past—only nothing looked the same. The walls had been painted off-white, and there were citations and awards and photos on the long wall. The windows had wooden blinds, which added a touch of class to the government-issue decoration.
Sam had an old oak desk, scarred and aged. It suited the office and the man.
“Jo,” he said, rising.
“Hi.” She swallowed hard. She shouldn’t have stormed away from Ruby’s. This was as awkward as it got. She should apologize. Would it make a difference to his looking into things?
“I came to make that statement. And ask if I could see the file.”
He looked at her for such a long time she was sure he was going to refuse. Then he nodded and asked Marjorie to get it. Gesturing to the chair across the desk from his, he indicated she sit.
Jo did, her knees feeling wobbly. “Thank you. Do you want me to type up a report? I’m good at that. Or I can just tell you what happened that night.”
He sat and leaned back in his chair. “I’d appreciate not having to write it up myself. You can use the computer in Marjorie’s area.”
She smiled. No one she knew liked writing reports.
“I hope you write reports better than Halstead did. There’s nothing to go on in his. Just some mention of wild accusations from a teenager, no follow-up with either Maddie or anyone else. And he never mentions other possibilities.”
“So Maddie didn’t get into trouble? I heard Halstead say they would take away her foster license.”
“Maybe they did, but I don’t have any information on it. As far as I know she never had other foster children after you girls were sent away. Yet she’s part of this new home for unwed pregnant teens, and I haven’t heard a hint of anyone opposing her involvement.”
“Suspicious, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Southern towns have loyalties to home-grown people.”
“I was born here,” Jo said, refuting his claim.
Sam set her up at the extra computer in the outer office. It took Jo longer to write the report than she’d expected. She could see every moment, and to write it all down took time. When she was finished, Marjorie printed it out and took it in to Sam. Jo followed and sat in the visitor’s chair.
She waited in silence while he read. She fidgeted a little, feeling nervous and unsettled. She looked at Sam, found his gaze on her and looked away, feeling butterflies in her stomach. How long would it take for him to read the darn thing?
The moments ticked by. The air seemed to be seeping from the room. Licking dry lips, she glanced back. He had put down the pages and was studying her.
“Stop,” she said.
“Sorry, do I make you nervous?”
“Great technique, but I’m not one of your suspects.” And the butterflies had nothing to do with the cop, more with the man.
He gave a half smile. “But you’d have me believe Allen McLennon is a suspect.”
“He is. The only one.”
Jo was relieved when Marjorie arrived with the pitifully thin folder. Sam pointed to Jo, and Marjorie handed it to her. “Let me know if you need something else, Sheriff,” the woman said before leaving. She closed the door.
Jo opened the folder and began to read. A few minutes later, she leafed through the file. “No photos, no lab report, nothing about the charges I made against Alan McLennon,” she murmured. “That alone should point to sloppy work, if not downright criminal conspiracy.”
“One way to look at it. But if you examine other files, you’d find the same kind of reports. And this from the man they elected sheriff for five terms,” Sam said.
Jo tossed it on his desk. “Well, thanks for letting me see it.”
“I don’t like the situation any more than you do,” Sam said. “If we work together, maybe we can find a way to bring out the truth, no matter what it is.”
“No matter what it is? You think it’s someone else? That I’m making this up?”
“I prefer to deal in facts.”
She thought about it. “I still like the idea of a full-page newspaper ad,” she said.
“If McLennon beat you, you want something to nail him, not just embarrass him,” Sam said.
Jo nodded. “You’re right. There has to be something.”
Sam shrugged. “I haven’t heard a word of gossip to support Allen’s guilt. What I have heard is that one of your schoolmates was the most likely suspect.”
Jo had every moment of that time engraved in her mind. She eyed her report on his desk, hoping Sam would find something in the report that would give him a lead.
“Who?”
“Josiah Heller.”
She smiled wryly. “Ironically, he’s the reason I’m back, not the reason I left. I’ve heard many people think he’s the one who attacked me. But it was Heller who told me about Maddie’s stroke, and that brought me back. I was hoping it would make a difference.”
“What?”
“Her stroke. I had some notion that maybe she’d see things differently, somehow see the truth. But she can’t even talk. And her reaction when she saw me was less than welcoming.” Jo shivered at the memory.
“Would Eliza or April have any information?”
“I doubt it. They wouldn’t have been quiet when being taken away from the only home we knew. If nothing came out then, they probably knew nothing. We can ask.” She gestured to the folder on the desk. “This stinks, Sheriff. And anyone with half a brain could see how shoddy the work is. Deliberately covering up for someone, as I see it.”
Sam didn’t respond.
“I’m telling the others tonight,” Jo said.
“I’ll come by.”
“Come at seven and I’ll reveal all to them.” Jo stood, rubbing her palms on her black pants. “And thanks. Sorry about earlier.”
He stood. “I want justice,” he said. “A good policeman does.”
After twelve years, Jo wasn’t sure it was possible. Any help she’d hoped for from the past had been shot down by the skimpy report filed at the time.
She still wanted to spend time with Maddie. To clear the air before telling everyone else the sordid tale. Even if she still refused to believe her, Jo had to try.
The older woman was in bed, eyes closed, when Jo peered around the door. She must have made some noise because Maddie opened her eyes and half smiled when she saw Jo.
Wondering if she was dreaming, Jo stepped inside. “All right to visit?” she asked.
Maddie nodded, raising her left hand in supplication.
Jo walked to the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. Maddie looked so small and frail lying there. Her head showed a fresh scar near her temple. Her hair was thin, white, wispy. Jo swallowed hard. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted. She decided she’d just blurt it out. Good a way as any.
“I’m telling April and Eliza the full story tonight,” she said.
Maddie didn’t move. It seemed as if she held her breath.
“I went to the bank. McLennon is president now. The son of a bitch should be in jail. Instead he has a prestigious job and is doing who knows what. You should have believed me, Maddie. I never meant to interfere with your chance at happiness. But he hurt me badly. And I got no support from the one person I thought I could count on. You. But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I lied initially, out of anger at you. I’m sorry. And more sorry that when I told the truth to the sheriff, he wouldn’t believe me. No one did. I’m sorry if I got you into trouble. And I’m sorry as hell that Eliza and April got shunted away like I did.”
“Nnnnoooo,” Maddie uttered.
“I wanted to let you know that I’m telling the others. Actually, I already told the new sheriff. I don’t think he believes me any more than you did, but he covers it better. Doesn’t matter, I know the truth, and I’m going to do my best to expose it to the world. I should have come back sooner.”
Maddie nodded, her expression sad.
“I hope he wasn’t the love of your life. I heard he dumped you after my accusations. I think you’re better off. He’s scum. I don’t know if he’s abusing any other girls. It could be that I was an isolated incident.”
Maddie looked distressed again. She shook her head. Her eyes were wide with emotion.
“Anyway, I thought it only fair to warn you. I expect Eliza and April will have some questions.” Jo took a deep breath, looking at the woman who had been the only mother she’d ever really had—until that fateful day. April had shared a lot of fond memories last night, many of which Jo had forgotten. It had been a good experience, one that made up for the overwhelming, indelible imprint of that last encounter.
Maddie had been strict, but she’d had three wild girls to care for. All had railed against their fate that had put them into foster care, and Maddie had taken the brunt of their anger. Yet she’d been loving, helpful, supportive. She’d been the one to come to school events, not Jo’s mother. Maddie had stayed up with her when she’d had a miserable bout of flu. Her mother had been in jail that time.
But the facts were as they were. Maddie was not her mother, and when Jo had needed her most, Maddie had let her down.
The grip on Jo’s hand tightened. If she hadn’t known Maddie was recovering from a serious stroke, she’d have thought the woman had been in strength-training, so painful was the hold.
Jo eased her hand out of Maddie’s, patting the back of her hand.
“I said I was sorry earlier. I wanted you to know I meant it. I should never have retaliated like that. I had no idea of the ramifications. I know a lot more about the law now, though, and have to say the investigation Sheriff Halstead did was lousy. I suspect he was in league with McLennon.”
Maddie nodded, reaching out again to touch Jo. “Bbbaaaa,” she tried. A sound almost like a kitten made, but Jo couldn’t understand.
“I’d better be going.”
Maddie shook her head frantically.
Jo looked around the hospital room. The woman was probably going stir-crazy confined here. She could stay a little longer.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and changed the subject.
“I’ve done all right for myself, Maddie,” she began. “I wanted to make something of my life, not end up like my mother. So I went for an education. It took me a little longer than most to realize the value. I didn’t graduate from high school until I was almost twenty, but made up for it in college. I have a degree in criminology. I’m good at my job. Did Eliza or April tell you I work for the Los Angeles Police Department? Once I made detective, I opted for Vice, to curtail as much drug traffic as I can. My team and I are good at what we do and have caught a bunch of dealers.”
Maddie nodded, her gaze never wavering. She reclaimed Jo’s hand with her left one, as if anchoring Jo in the room. She said something, but Jo couldn’t understand it.
“Say again?”
Maddie struggled, but the sounds didn’t make sense.
“I’m not too good at this,” Jo said.
Maddie squeezed her hand and shook her head.
Jo studied their linked hands. Her own hand was tanned and strong, Maddie’s frail and birdlike. Would she recover completely as Eliza swore? Or was this the beginning of a gradual decline ending in death?
Jo looked up at her face again. “While I’m here, I’m going to do my best to set the record straight for everyone.”
Maddie took a deep breath, then nodded.
“I’m sorry things ended the way they did,” Jo said, tears gathering. Her heart was sore and the regrets spilled out.
Jo spent an hour with Maddie, telling her about her job in Los Angeles, how she’d ended up there, glossing over some of the experiences she’d had that would shock the gentle Maddie.
She longed to ask her about April being her granddaughter, and about Maddie’s own daughter. Jo knew from April that both she and Maddie were happy to have the truth known. Not many people outside the family knew—Cade and Jack and Sam only—but April wanted the world to know. Maddie had not objected. The question now was how to release the information to cause the least amount of gossip.
Jo rather thought it should be handled while Maddie was semi-isolated in the hospital, so it would be old news by the time she was out and about again. But that call was April’s and Maddie’s.
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