by DiAnn Mills
“Sounds picture-perfect. Siblings?”
“Two brothers, both younger. You?”
“A sister.”
“Does she live near your parents?”
I smiled. “I have no idea.”
His brow wrinkled. “You aren’t close to your family?”
“Not really.”
“From what I see, it’s their loss.”
I hadn’t expected his remark, and I could provide a taste of truth. “My fault. I made a few bad choices in my youth and spoiled the relationship with my entire family.”
He finished his coffee and set his mug on a table by the rocker. “How about a walk?”
“My parole officer might not approve.”
Not a muscle twitched on his face. “The reason for no contact with your family?”
“Yes.”
“Number one, the past is behind you. The future is what matters. Number two, I asked for a walk, and I doubt it violates your parole.”
For a moment, I wished my new freedom meant more than an unlocked cell. “You might want to google me first. The findings might change your mind.”
He shook his head. “If you want to tell me something, the choice is yours.”
Denton, like anyone who initiated friendship, shouldn’t learn about my past from anyone but me. “I spent fifteen years in prison for a horrendous crime. I paid my debt, and I found Jesus.”
“Adversity separates the weak from the strong.”
I weighed what I wanted to know about him. His kindness could be a ploy for something deceptive. But how would I learn if I didn’t take a chance? Joy snuggled closer to me. While in prison, I was part of a dog-training program. I became attached to a miniature poodle, which in reality was an emotional support animal.
“Where are you?” Denton said.
“I was convicted of manslaughter.”
“Okay.”
“Does my confession make you nervous?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You should be.”
“I’m a man who believes in second and third chances. Does Edie know?”
“Yes.”
“She believes in you, and that’s enough for me.”
“All right. She says you’re a great guy. I’ll take a walk if you promise to look online at my record later.”
He nodded. “Shelby, I hope we can be friends.”
“The idea is terrifying.”
“Understandable. Maybe it’s time for a new beginning.” He grinned.
Denton was a handsome man with a strong jawline and incredible dark-brown eyes. He appeared sincere in his request for friendship. Yet, his features seemed familiar.
I locked the cabin, and we took the same path as the person I’d chased into the woods. This time, I carried my puppy and enjoyed the spindly pine trees, wildflowers, and musky smell of the earth. A pink wildflower with an oval-shaped petal caught my attention. I bent to memorize each soft curve and how a gentle breeze caused it to nod.
“Want me to snap a pic?” Denton said.
“Yes, please. I’d like to use the shape and colors to design a jewelry piece.” Already I envisioned a pendant wrapped in bronze wire or possibly silver. “My hobby.”
“I’d like to see them sometime.” He snapped it with his phone and handed me the device. He’d captured just the right amount of light.
“Beautiful,” I whispered and returned the phone. “Thanks.”
“Photography is one of my hobbies. Besides, you’re easy to please. Any other photos?”
“Count on it.” I laughed.
“Haven’t heard such a sweet sound in a long time. You should laugh more often.”
Was he intending to impress me? Why? I’d like to think he made the list of potential friends, but trust came at a high price.
Back at the cabin, a box sat on the front porch. Caution snaked through me.
“You have a delivery.” Denton moved toward the box. “From the size, it looks heavy. Want me to carry it inside?”
“Let me check the sender first.” I motioned for him to stay back and handed him Joy. UPS had delivered the box, and it came from Fire Mountain. Relief raced through me. “The box is from a jewelry supply company.”
Denton appeared at my side within seconds and handed me my cuddly puppy. He scooped up the box, and I unlocked the door. “Joy needs to grow fast. You were petrified at the sight of the box.”
“More paranoid than fearful.” I pointed to the kitchen counter.
He eased it down and turned to me. “I’m sure you want to check out the order, so I’m riding home. Thanks for the coffee, conversation, and walk.” He snapped his fingers. “Do you have AirDrop enabled on your phone?”
“What is that?”
He showed me the option and sent the wildflower photos he’d taken earlier. We looked at them together.
“They are incredible.” I walked him to the door.
“Hope to see you again, other than dropping by puppy food later. I won’t bother you. I had a good time this afternoon.”
I didn’t encourage him by asking to see his photography. “You promised to find out more about me.”
“I will.”
Spending too much time with a good-looking man who brought me a puppy and knew a dribble of my past might cause me to make a huge mistake. Time for me to google Denton McClure.
13
DENTON
To say I was confused after spending two hours with Shelby didn’t put a dent in my puzzled and frustrated findings. I’d enjoyed my time with her. Too much. And I despised the reluctance in my spirit to condemn her. For years, I’d thought of little else but finding the evidence to prove her guilt in an open case. I liked her, and the thought of being wrong about her rehabilitation or participation in the money theft made me furious. At myself. Tangled emotions weren’t my specialty, especially for a woman who’d wrecked my life plans.
I gave Big Red full rein on the winding path to my cabin. Had I betrayed myself? Shelby’s smile lingered in my mind, the way her lips curved upward and her soft laughter. Those blue-gray eyes haunted me, drawing me into her world. She admitted her parole status, which caught me off guard, and the crime, giving me an opportunity to back off from friendship. If prison and her statement of faith were legitimate, the penal system had done its job.
Logic and statistics told me old habits seeped into a person’s blood and seldom found an exit. Life changes were miracles, not the norm. I believed God existed, but I hadn’t gone the route of giving my life to Him. Too much misery in the world to believe in a loving God.
A call from my youngest brother, Brice, interrupted my musings. “Hey, Denton, how’s life on the back forty?”
“Great. Fresh air and good people.”
“And working undercover? I saw that Shelby Pearce was released.”
I knew where this was going. “We’ve met. Talked.”
“Still not too late to resign and join your brothers at Houston PD.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? What happened to your wedding?”
“For the record, my engagement was headed south before I chose the FBI.”
“She married a cop, our brother.”
“Give it a rest, Brice. The past is in the past. Andy and Lisa’s marriage has worked for a lot of years.” I wish I could accept their relationship . . .
“Know what? You’re right. I’m done giving you a bad time, Bro. Andy jumped all over me after I ran you off at Christmas.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Is that why you called?”
“There’s more. I wondered if you planned to be at the barbecue.”
“Mom put you up to this?”
“Yes. She said your staying away is my fault. And she’s right.”
“Never thought you’d swallow your pride.” But I couldn’t bring myself to dissolve the many times Brice had irritated me with his constant badgering.
“You’ve had a solid career with the FBI. B
ut not near what you could have accomplished in the police force.” After my prolonged silence, he sighed. “Don’t forget to call Mom.”
Even with an apology, Brice had a way of making me feel like horse manure. When I least expected it, he’d remind me of something stupid I did in middle school or college. Always something. And it always ended with me not going into the family business. Being a police officer.
My thoughts turned back to Shelby. Before her release from prison, she’d been part of a program that encouraged prisoners to bond with dogs while learning how to train them. I understood from my own experience how an animal could be a source of comfort. Now shame tormented me for giving her the puppy as though I had an ulterior motive.
I paced the floor. I’d investigated every inch of this case—repeatedly. Years ago, Shelby’s parents grieved the death of a son-in-law and stalwart member of the church and community, as they grieved the loss to their oldest, pregnant daughter. Shelby’s high school friends testified to her rebellious and often-dangerous pranks. No one was surprised she’d been charged with murder, except one girl claimed Shelby had put aside her wild ways and chosen to pursue her dreams in fashion design.
Every road I’d followed led to a dead end.
The sensible explanation to my mixed feelings about her today pointed to Shelby playing me for a fool. She’d pretended to be a decent, reformed woman and learned from the past. Had to be a role she played, a ploy of manipulation.
Still, a longing to see her again told me I wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. How could I find something good in a murderer?
14
SHELBY
I stood behind the bakery counter and read the article in the Valleysburg Gazette for the second time. My parole news was printed on the third page in an opinion column. The information was public knowledge, but reading my release status crushed me to the core. I rubbed my arms. Would the dirt always be there as though I needed a perpetual shower? Someone had taken the newspaper photo the day I met with James Peterson and Sheriff Wendall, further confirming a person or persons wanted me out of the area. My name glared up at me and the crime I’d committed in cold black letters.
Was Officer Randy Hughes responsible? I’d noted the way he and Denton walked and their builds. Neither one resembled the slight man I’d chased into the woods.
Amy-Jo took the newspaper from my hand. “I saw you reading this while I seated a customer. It’s trash.”
“I’m not finished with the article.”
“No need. Nothing you don’t already know or haven’t read online.” She crumpled the paper and pursed her lips. “No one has the right to condemn you. You can reclaim your life and be proud of your accomplishments.”
“Maybe I should move on. My job here might damage your business.”
“If someone chooses to eat and shop somewhere else, I don’t need them. Besides, leaving here is crazy. Edie and I have already talked this morning, and she’ll be here as soon as she drops the kids off at school.”
“Why? She shouldn’t be seen with me.”
“More craziness. We were sure of your ridiculous response to one person’s opinion. You’re in Valleysburg for a reason, to start over.”
My mind journeyed to a dark place. “I’d like to know who wrote the article.”
“Doubt you’ll find out. The person’s a coward. Trust me, I know a coward when I see one.” Amy-Jo tapped her finger on the glass bakery case. “Are you thinking it’s Edie’s brother? He’s been opposed to her helping you from the beginning.”
“He’d sign his name and brag on what he’d done.”
She blew out her frustration. “You know him well.”
“He hasn’t hidden his disapproval or his intention of running me off.” I sighed, couldn’t stop the response to the heaviness in my soul. “The writer could be someone concerned about me corrupting the community. Could be the person wants me to believe it’s Officer Hughes so I don’t find out who is really responsible. If I’ve learned anything during the past several years, it’s life can blindside us. People deceive and behave according to what drives them from one selfish motive to the next.”
Amy-Jo blinked, revealing teal-and-pink eye shadow. “My late husband used to claim, ‘Roaches can hold their breath underwater for forty minutes. No point flushing them down the toilet because they’ll crawl right back out.’ The writer of this article is a roach. Ignore it and let truth exterminate him.”
But I must confront the writer, find out who was behind the threats. “What time does the newspaper office close?”
“Noon on Saturdays.”
I’d stop in on Monday after my counseling session with Pastor Emory.
The bell over the café’s door jingled, and Edie walked in. Her red face cautioned me to calm her down.
“Good morning,” Amy-Jo said, and I waved my greeting.
“I need coffee. Caffeine will help me get the right perspective about this.” Her tone showed otherwise.
“Are you okay?”
“My brother and I had a few words.”
“And?” Amy-Jo raised a finger.
“He insists today’s newspaper article is the consensus of all law-’biding citizens in town. Hard for me to fathom we came from the same parents.” A dramatic exhale followed.
“Love doesn’t require agreeing with everything a person says and does,” I said. “I’ll get your coffee with a dollop of half-and-half.”
“Surely you’re not defending him.” Edie’s eyes widened.
“He has a right to want the best for his city, family, and friends. My job is to show his taxes have gone to good use.” I choked back a sob like a spineless weakling. My emotions centered on Edie and Amy-Jo. These ladies were ready to march to my battlefront and take a hit.
“I appreciate both of you. You support me and neither of you have asked any questions about my ugly past. But the truth is, people judge. People are easily frightened by those convicted of evil things. I have to bear the burden unless someone breaks the law—then it’s Sheriff Wendall’s or Officer Hughes’s responsibility. I need to prove to you, James Peterson, and Pastor Emory that I’m trustworthy. I’d like to stay in this beautiful town, yet I won’t put anyone’s reputation at risk.” I eyed them separately. “You will not suffer for my sake.”
“Whoa,” Amy-Jo said. “Let’s ride this out together. Shelby, you’re right about human nature. But nothing scares me because I’ve seen the worst of the worst. In my opinion, nothing’s changed. Just more people know what brought you here. I’d like to think good will come from this.” She patted my arm.
I flinched.
“Sorry to offend you.” Amy-Jo stepped back.
“Habit. I was thinking about . . . stuff. I’m not used to being touched unless it’s with malevolent intent. My apologies.”
“No problem. You know, Randy could decide to like you.”
“Seriously?” Edie said. “That might happen on Judgment Day.”
I laughed and broke the tension. A regular customer lined up for his blueberry scone. I pointed to him. “Ladies, excuse me, but I have work to do.”
The man would make a great Santa during Christmas—his white hair reminded me of a much older version of Denton. “I’ll have four blueberry scones, four large cinnamon buns, and a dozen donut holes. The grandkids will soon be up and ready to start a Star Wars marathon.”
I slipped into a fresh pair of gloves and packaged his order. “I remember watching those movies with my family. Loved every minute. We all were fans.”
A woman behind him glared with large blue eyes. “Did a storm trooper inspire you to blow a hole in your brother-in-law?”
I looked up. What was wrong with this woman? Had she never made a mistake? Sacrificed for someone she loved more than life?
“You’re a disgrace to our solid community,” she said.
Behind her, Amy-Jo’s and Edie’s mouths stood agape. But I’d not fall into the condescension trap. “What can I get for you?”
“A dozen of Miss Amy-Jo’s lemon tarts. The ladies’ mission group is meeting this morning.”
I selected the best pastries and placed them in a box.
“Is Mrs. Emory joining you today?” Edie said.
“No. The family’s on the mend from the flu, and she’s exhausted from caring for the kids, the pastor, and herself. The pastor hasn’t felt like working on his sermon, and he needed her to help finish it for tomorrow.”
I taped the box closed and handed it to the woman, forcing a smile to cover my anger. “I hope the ladies enjoy these tarts.”
“Extra napkins, please.”
A flow of sarcasm swirled through my mind. Unleashing my fury only demonstrated my pride.
15
DENTON
My plans for this morning were less than honorable but necessary. I stalled at my cabin until daylight before I walked to Shelby’s cabin. She told me yesterday her shift ended at two, offering plenty of time for me to search her cabin.
In the back of my mind, I wanted to come up empty. The war within me waged on.
Picking the lock on her door came easily, and I stepped inside, careful to lock the door behind me. Neat. Clean. The scent of lavender and wood permeated the room. And I planned to disrupt it all with the scent of betrayal.
Joy bounced in her kennel, and I lifted the latch to reach inside and pat her head. Good thing she couldn’t talk.
I started my sweep in Shelby’s bedroom, opening drawers and sorting through her few belongings. Most drawers were empty. I removed them and felt along the sides and bottoms for anything I might find to use against her. Inside her nightstand drawer, a journal appeared. Many pages were filled, and I wished I had time to read them. I reached for my phone and randomly snapped pics of several entries. No reason why I couldn’t return another day if something emerged among her writings.
I moved my rummaging to the bathroom, second bedroom, closets, kitchen, and living room. Nothing out of the ordinary snatched my attention. I returned to her bedroom and surveyed the area with the idea of reading her journal. Her Bible lay on the nightstand, and I picked it up. She’d underlined a lot of passages and made notes in the margins. I held it by the spine over the bed, shook it, and a folded piece of paper drifted to the floor.
