Kari Jacobs Box Set

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Kari Jacobs Box Set Page 16

by Harper Harris

“June and I went to high school together and I had always wanted to be her friend. I told you, she was the prettiest girl in school and sweet to boot. I did fail to mention she was a bit selective when it came to talk with other people and that included me. She ignored me no matter how much I sucked up. I was rather pathetic.”

  Doris was still embarrassed with her teenage self, looking down at the ground for second before continuing. “But when she got pregnant at sixteen, she couldn’t tell any of her ‘real’ friends, so she told me. I felt like we were getting closer, so I helped her cover it up. We acted like I was inviting her to my aunt’s in Atlanta, but really, I hid her at my grandma’s. She had dementia and barely knew who I was, let alone June. After the baby was born, I took her to the orphanage, left her with the nuns. June never knew I followed up and found out who adopted the child. That’s how I knew all of it.”

  Doris started to get choked up and tears fell down her face. “And I’ve kept it in all this time.”

  Cindy and Angeline took care of her while I processed everything Doris just said. June had this whole secret life before she became Mrs. Carter, a life she probably wanted hidden, a life the father probably wanted hidden.

  “Wait, Doris!” I rushed over before they all walked away. “Who is the father?”

  Doris shrugged.

  “June never told me. It’s the one thing she kept hidden.”

  Dang! I knew this all fits into the puzzle, but the question was how? How did it connect back to everything else?

  Chapter Seventeen

  July 19th

  The mayor’s big festival was here and the whole town gathered once again, but this time to witness the reveal of the mayor’s wife’s new junk statue. I’ve heard some chatter and the consensus seemed to be that the statue would be ugly, but how ugly was what they were all here for.

  My main concern was figuring out who this mystery baby daddy was. I’d spent much of the previous night combing through town records for when June was sixteen, but I came out with nothing. There was no one who stuck out and I was afraid to hit another dead end.

  Shortbread and I were heading to the coffee shop. The place had become my unofficial resting place during the workday, but some fanfare caught my attention. I decided to stop and realized the sculpture was about to be unveiled. I joined the crowd to see what the town’s next art piece would be.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Appleton. Thank you all for coming to our festival today. As you all know, I had hoped for this to be a time of healing for our town. I can see the fun y’all are all havin’ and it warms my heart.”

  I wasn’t believing anything he was saying, but, I had to admit, the mayor put on a good show.

  “We are also here to see my wife Michelle’s new statue. A statue meant to symbolize our town––its past, its future––encapsulate our entire being. We want this art to bring joy to each and every one of you. And now my wife. Michelle?”

  Michelle moved to the microphone and, before explaining her piece, the high school marching band played a quick blast of music to accompany the unveiling. The tarp was finally pulled off and a collective gasp was unleashed when we all saw our new town center.

  “This is my piece, Appleton—Past and Future.”

  There was a plaque underneath the sculpture with its name and, as I gazed upon it, I tried to figure out what it was. I seemed to be two figures intertwined, but that was a generous description. So much junk was welded together, it was hard to make out what was going on. The piece was simply too busy and could have used an unforgiving hand.

  I continued to observe the thing, fascinated that an entire town repeatedly let this happen. That’s when I saw it.

  I spotted a flash of red near the center of one of the figures. It looked an awful lot like a spray paint can. I ran forward, trying to get my hands on it, but Michelle stopped me.

  “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Kari, but the art is not meant to be touched.”

  I didn’t care what she wanted. I had spent hours digging through trash to find that can and I wasn’t going to let it go.

  “I think your art is my evidence.”

  I didn’t want to offend, in case she decided to not give me what I needed. Michelle gasped, pointing at her statue.

  “My sculpture? What are you talking about?”

  Sharply, I pointed right at the spray can. It was so close, and I was going to get it.

  “Where did you get that spray paint can?”

  “I got it from the dump a couple of days ago. My sculpture needed more color. I wanted my figures to pop. It’s no big deal. It was just a finishing touch.”

  She was getting sensitive, but I was getting impatient.

  “Well, I’m going to need that finishing touch taken out. Your statue will have to be taken apart.”

  I must have been a little too forceful with my words because Michelle started throwing a full-blown fit. Something I’d never seen come out of a grown woman. Sure, I’d seen people fighting over the pettiest things lately, but they had maintained an ounce of dignity at least. This was totally, completely, and fully childish.

  I didn’t know what to do because I wasn’t going to comfort her. Comforting a grown woman throwing a tantrum over a literal pile of trash was not on my agenda for today.

  “This isn’t fair. I won’t let you touch my statue! I won’t! I spent too many hours digging in the dump and I worked hard to make this piece and I don’t care if it’s for some stupid murder investigation. Everyone knows the girl’s guilty! How will a dumb can in my sculpture save her life? It won’t! I won’t let you!”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had to take a bunch of deep breaths because I was on the verge of yelling myself. Throughout all of this I had managed to maintain my composure, but everyone had a breaking point. Luckily, a more level-headed mayor came to the rescue or more like he was on his wife’s side, but he spoke like he’d been on this earth for more than four years.

  “This is ridiculous, Kari. We just all need to relax. I’m sure we can have a civilized conversation.”

  I knew what that meant. He wanted to keep his wife happy and if that meant disregarding potential evidence in a murder trial, so be it. But I wasn’t here to keep his wife happy or him for that matter.

  “I’m not being ridiculous. I’m the only one who’s cared about actually conducting this investigation with some modicum of integrity. Everyone here has decided Ashley’s guilt but if any of you had spent a single minute looking into this, you’d have seen how contrived this all is.”

  The mayor was getting red in the face. He didn’t like being called out. Well, boo-hoo.

  I wasn’t here for his feelings. I needed to move this along. If I just talked with the mayor, we’d get into a fight. He had possession of the statue and I needed someone with the authority to take it away.

  I got my phone out. “I’m calling the Sherriff.”

  There were protests, but I ignored them. The phone rang, and I laid out everything. The Sherriff was on his way and hopefully he’d resolve all of this.

  The mayor puffed up at me. “You’re stepping on the wrong toes, Kari Jacobs.”

  I scowled at him, no longer feeling the need to stroke his ego. Maybe I’d need his help in the future, but I’d deal with that when the time came.

  The Sherriff arrived quickly. He saw the hysterical Mrs. Harper-Lewis, the frustrated mayor and me with my arms crossed and face hardened. He let out a long breath before stepping on stage to get the rundown on the situation.

  “Mayor, Missus, Miss Kari,” he tipped his hat to all of us because, if anything, he would not be accused of un-gentlemanly like behavior. “What seems to be the problem here?”

  I cut in before the mayor or Michelle colored the whole situation with their embellishments. I told the Sherriff all of my suspicions.

  “Ashley Butler is still in your jail because you all think she murdered Miss June. One of the circumstantial pieces of evidence you used to charge her was the
fact the she vandalized June’s property, but the spray paint can in Michelle’s statue could be the key to exonerating Ashley of the crime. If her fingerprints aren’t on that can then all the testimony about her attacking Miss June is irrelevant.”

  I was a lot more passionate than I expected, but this town had shown me too much the past few days. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away.

  The Sherriff nodded and turned to the mayor and his wife, waiting for their side.

  The mayor spoke on their behalf. “This woman ran up on the stage rambling about how we’d have to take apart my wife’s statue, a statue she spent weeks building. There’s nothing to back up her claims and she can’t have it!”

  The Sherriff was probably about to say something, but I didn’t like the way the mayor was talking about me and I shot back.

  “I wasn’t rambling. I told you exactly why I needed that paint can and while your wife’s art is important, it’s not more important than a woman’s life.”

  I couldn’t believe I had to explain this to two grown people. It should be easy to understand. If I was in their shoes, I would be jumping at the opportunity to save someone’s life. Is that just me?

  “Don’t lecture me young lady. You should have respect for your elders.”

  If he was about to make this about respect, I would flip my lid. It seemed the Sherriff noticed this and stepped in.

  “Why don’t we put this argument on hold because we’re not going to solve it tonight. I’ll take custody of the statue.”

  Michelle yelped in the background, but the Sherriff ignored it and kept going, “And we will leave it intact until it can be decided by the judge whether or not Miss Jacobs has any claim to it as evidence.”

  He sighed, and it wasn’t hard to tell he was done with the entire affair.

  I looked at the mayor and I shrugged, ready to argue my case in court. “Works for me.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, but then he looked at all the citizens looking at him. He didn’t want to look petty in front of his constituents.

  “That is satisfactory, Sheriff.”

  His wife made another dissatisfied noise, but he gave her a look that probably meant ‘not here.’ She clammed up from then on.

  The Sherriff nodded and got on his phone to get someone to come and take the statue away. I got off the stage and pushed my way through the crowd. I would need to get this one right.

  This time I’d show that judge he couldn’t just ignore evidence.

  Chapter Eighteen

  July 20th

  I got to court early the next day. Shortbread had to stay home this time, but I had a neighbor looking in on him, in case this ended up taking all day.

  The courtroom was packed. News vans lined the streets, people squeezed into the courthouse. This was going to be a spectacle whether I liked it or not.

  I sat on my side of the bench and waited for Judge Houston.

  The mayor and his wife sat across the way, sending death stares in my direction. The bailiff announced the Judge’s entrance and we all stood while he entered. He looked royally pissed, looking at the sea of faces that showed up for the hearing.

  He sat at his bench, taking a second for himself before saying anything.

  “This is highly unusual.”

  He homed in on me, no doubt blaming me for his inconvenience. Well, he was right about that much. It was amazing how much he hated doing his job.

  He didn’t comment any further on how much of an annoyance he found this whole thing, instead getting the proceedings started. I presented first, walking around the table to put forward my argument.

  “Michelle Harper-Lewis’s statue, while culturally significant for the town, contains a greater purpose inside of it. One of its components is the spray can that I believe was used to vandalize Miss June’s fence. I would like to get that can tested for DNA or fingerprints. Perhaps this could elucidate another suspect but at the very least will clear Ashley Butler of the accusations leveled against her at the hearing for the order of protection that Miss June obtained.”

  I was looking at the judge for most of my small speech and he looked irritated. I couldn’t understand it.

  The mayor was next, explaining why I was a raving lunatic. “We all know Miss Jacobs is a passionate lady, doing everything she can for her client, but she has taken it too far. My wife’s statue has nothing to do with this investigation. Whatever she used to make her statue was found at the dump and who knows where that spray can came from? Any old hooligan could have thrown it out. We cannot destroy my wife’s art because of these baseless claims.”

  The judge seemed to like the mayor’s story more because he looked at me and asked, “Do you have anything else to say, Miss Jacobs?”

  Indeed, I did. I got up and proceeded to lawyer like I’d never lawyered before.

  “I believe that the painted threat was faked by Miss June to get the restraining order against Ashley. As I said in the last hearing, everything June had claimed was wildly out of character for Miss Butler. Which means if June planted evidence, there is a killer still out there. The whole case against Miss Butler hinges on her being the aggressor, but June made up each and every attack, starting with the vandalism.”

  Judge Houston rubbed his eyes and then asked me another question. “Do you have any evidence to support your theory?”

  Not a lot was concrete, so there was a heavy reliance on my personal spin.

  “June Carter Clawson was a woman with many secrets and perhaps these secrets led to her death. She was plotting to steal Ashley’s property by any means necessary. Even though she knew that the law was not on her side, she did everything she could to get Ashley out of the way because she wanted to sell. There was a large payday on the horizon and she wasn’t going to miss out. Even if it meant breaking her contract with the homeowner’s association. Even if it meant forcing her friends and daughter to lie. Even if it meant getting an innocent woman kicked out of her house.”

  I was laying it on thick, hoping the judge would finally see reason. My theory made sense, way more sense than Ashley killing June. Judge Houston just needed to understand.

  I didn’t feel good about this next part, but I needed to show that June didn’t have the pristine character she boasted. Saving Ashley was my number one priority and I had to focus on that.

  “June wasn’t the wholesome woman she pretended to be. When she was in high school she had a child out of wedlock, a child she gave up for adoption.”

  I let of a deep sigh. The fight for justice rarely left anyone unscathed.

  I was looking at the judge and his face had gone white as a ghost. I furrowed my brow, confused by this sudden change in demeanor. Could he finally be realizing he may have sent an innocent woman to jail? And he felt bad? I had to keep this momentum going.

  “What are you talking about?”

  His voice was shaky, and I brought out the big guns.

  “I’d like to call Angeline Smith to come forward.”

  I turned my head and watched Angeline walk to the front. She was clearly nervous, but she held her head up high. I knew she had been talking with Cindy and Doris since the funeral and things had been looking up.

  Angeline reached me, and I quietly told her to tell the judge her story.

  “A couple days ago at Miss June’s funeral, Doris Clawson told me and Cindy Carter that when June was sixteen she got pregnant with me and the two of them left town for a little bit until I was born. Doris took me to the orphanage where I was put up for adoption. I asked my mama about this and she told me it was all true. It turns out I’m really Miss June’s daughter.”

  I had had a bit of a chance to talk to her beforehand, to ask her to testify, and Angeline was still dealing with all of it. She didn’t just find out that June was her mother, but also that she was adopted. I wished I could have been more helpful, but this was very much her personal journey. All I could do was be there.

  With Angeline finished, my eyes went b
ack to the judge, but what I saw wasn’t what I wanted. He was back to looking annoyed. What was going on?

  “I can’t believe you would waste the court’s time with such idle gossip. What does such an old story have to do with what happened to June? What she said proves nothing. The statue will stay intact and all court proceedings previously scheduled will move forward as intended.”

  And with that he adjourned the court.

  It happened again! No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was constantly failing Ashley. This was my most solid theory and now I’d have to start over again.

  I stared at Judge Houston in disbelief and contempt. He was letting Ashley stay in jail for murder! She was stuck there because no one in this crazy town would listen to the truth!

  While I was glaring at him, he was descending off the bench and going back to his judge’s chambers. Probably to pat himself on the back for another job well done. They mayor and him would have some whiskey, laughing at how the new lawyer in town was a bit over the top.

  Among all the thoughts of anger I was directing at him, I noticed something. Judge Houston was tall and thin. His silhouette was familiar… He’d be just about the right age to be…

  “Stop!”

  It was directed at the judge, but everyone stopped. Probably out of surprise. I didn’t want to just blurt out what I was thinking, but it was all falling into place. I was closing in.

  I approached Judge Houston and I knew he knew I knew. The judge looked down at me and waited.

  “Did you know you had a daughter?” I asked calmly and quietly.

  His eyes went blank as the gavel fell from his hands. His shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the ground. Shaking his head, my suspicions were finally all confirmed. I knew exactly what happened. I turned to the court and explained it all.

  “Miss June and Judge Houston had the affair all those years ago. They were young and having fun, but, all of a sudden, she disappeared, breaking things off. Years later, feelings forgotten, she came back, asking for a restraining order against Ashley. Judge Houston knows there was no legal basis and he told her, refusing to grant such a trivial order. She threatened to tell everyone about the affair, but at this point, he didn’t care. It was so long ago and who would care now? But the next day, she comes back to the formal hearing with witnesses and evidence of a painted threat. He guessed she made it up, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. Yes, those feelings were no longer, but it didn’t mean they never were. He called her to the bench for a whispered conversation,”

 

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