Injustice For All

by Robin Caroll

But not the whole truth. “Did you have any other contact after that?”

  “Once.” Her voice cracked. “Daniel came to Hopewell to see for himself that Hayden and I were happy and taken care of.”

  So there was something she didn’t tell Hayden. Or Hayden had kept from him. “What happened when Tate came to town? Did you see him?”

  She nodded. “He cried when he held Hayden. I didn’t think he’d keep his word to stay out of our lives.” Tears made her eyes even brighter.

  Rafe’s chest tightened as sympathy rose for the victim he’d never met. He could very easily imagine the pain these two had endured because of their lack of good judgment.

  “I gave him my word I’d contact him if I ever needed him.” Her eyes lost focus as she stared blankly into nothingness. “I actually thought about calling him after George died.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Maybe the star-crossed lovers could have found some measure of happiness after all these years.

  Ardy smiled and met his gaze. “Because I didn’t know if Daniel had fallen in love, married, had his own family. I couldn’t disrupt his life. He respected my wishes and kept out of my life.” Her tone had dropped to barely above a whisper. “It’s selfish of me, but I couldn’t stand knowing he’d found someone. I know, I had George and a love-filled marriage, so it seems silly, but . . .”

  Images of Georgia flitted across Rafe’s mind. How many times had he wished he didn’t know she’d had a happy marriage and a beautiful baby? His throat thickened. “No, I understand completely.”

  “Do you? I wonder if a man as young as yourself can.” She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “Perhaps you can.”

  “Age is not a prerequisite to lost or forbidden love, Mrs. Simpson.” But that had been before he found Christ. Before he made the choice to follow Jesus.

  A meaningful pause hung low and heavy in the spacious living space.

  “Well said, Agent Baxter.” She stood. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or something to drink?”

  “Coffee would be nice.” He stood as well.

  “Follow me. Friends normally sit in the kitchen with me.”

  So he’d moved up from the agent she couldn’t wait to get rid of to a friend invited into her kitchen. The pain of unrequited love made strange bedfellows indeed.

  “This won’t take but a minute to brew.” She filled the pot with water. “Have a seat at the bar.”

  As instructed, Rafe dropped to the barstool. The kitchen was much cheerier. Brighter. A framed photograph hung over the kitchen table. A family portrait.

  Rafe stood and moved in front of the picture. There was no resemblance between George Simpson and Hayden. Had the man ever noticed? Especially since the daughter carried strong traits of her father.

  “No.”

  He spun and cocked his head at Ardy.

  The corners of her mouth turned slightly upward. “George never had a clue that Hayden wasn’t his son. He never knew he had any reason to suspect otherwise.” She turned back to the coffeepot.

  Rafe returned to the barstool. “I heard your daughter was found safe and sound. I’m glad for you.”

  “Me too. If only she and Hayden could get past their differences.”

  “Differences?”

  “Well, ever since George died, Hayden has tried to act as a parent to Emily. She doesn’t take well to that.”

  Rafe grinned. “I can imagine.” Riley had been a handful since their parents’ accident. Thank goodness she was an adult. He nodded at the photograph on the wall. “She’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Thank you.” Ardy winked, then reached for the pot. “Coffee’s ready. How do you take yours?”

  “Black.”

  She slid his cup to him, then added sugar and cream to her own. “I can’t drink it like that. Hayden drinks it black as well.”

  Apparently Rafe and the police commissioner had a lot in common. More than he’d imagined. He took a sip. Hot and strong, just the way he liked it. “Well, as long as you drink it. There’s just something about a person who doesn’t drink coffee. I can’t make myself trust ’em.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame.”

  He set the cup down. “Why’s that?”

  “Bella doesn’t drink coffee at all.” Ardy peered at him over the rim. “I’m assuming you know Bella.”

  The flavor turned bitter on his tongue. “I’ve met her.”

  Ardy arched her left brow. “And?”

  “And what?” He shrugged, hoping he looked disinterested. “She’s Hayden’s best friend, right?”

  “Yes, they’re best friends.”

  “Well, then.” He took another sip of coffee.

  “Interesting.”

  His chest was tighter than the Tennessee Volunteers’ defensive line. “What?”

  “You’re attracted to her. Is she attracted as well?” She leaned on the bar, resting her chin in her hands.

  “I-I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oh, mercy . . . he hadn’t stuttered in years. Now he sounded like some lame boy with a crush.

  “Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Ardy straightened, her eyes widening. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She winked. “I love Bella as if she were my own daughter. You couldn’t do better.”

  Great. If he argued with Mrs. Simpson, she’d think he was just denying to save himself embarrassment. Now what was he going to do?

  Especially when she was dead-on.

  “And she’s very trustworthy. She’s known about Daniel being Hayden’s father almost since she moved here and never said a word.”

  “You told her? You must trust her a lot.”

  “Oh, I do trust her. But I didn’t tell her. She already knew.”

  Rafe stiffened. “How did she know?”

  Ardy cocked her head to the side. “You know, I don’t really recall. It’s been a long time since we had that conversation.” She shrugged. “I asked Bella not to say anything to Hayden—begged, more like it—and she didn’t. Not even a hint, which was why he was so shocked when I told him.”

  Now what was he going to do with this information?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.”

  THOMAS JEFFERSON

  “What else don’t I know about the real you?” Hayden leaned back in the kitchen chair and stared at Bella over his coffee cup.

  She pointed the spatula she held at him. “I told you . . . I love coffee and Dr. Pepper and I really, really miss smoking. You cannot believe how much I miss smoking.” Even three years later, she could taste the menthol in the back of her throat. “You know how people say you get better taste buds and sense of smell after you quit smoking? That’s a lie.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Big, fat, hairy lie.” She turned to check on the biscuits in the oven, nearly tripping over the dog. “Chubbers, go lie down.”

  The black Lab ambled to the back door and plopped on his rug.

  “And I miss my cat something fierce.” The long-ignored yearning seared her chest. “So many times I wanted to call and find out where Whiskers ended up. Who had found her and where she is.”

  Hayden shook his head. “I would’ve never taken you for a cat person.”

  People didn’t own cats—they owned their humans. Bella flipped the sizzling bacon. “I love cats.”

  Chubbers lifted his head from his paws.

  She laughed. “I love you too, Chubs.” She grinned at Hayden. “I swear, that dog understands English.”

  “He’s smart. What else?”

  She pulled the bacon from the pan and set it across paper towels. “Well, I used to be a vegetarian.” She flipped another piece of bacon. “Obviously, I had to get over that.”

 
“I find it fascinating you had me so completely fooled.”

  She pulled the biscuits from the oven and turned it off. “Hayden, I didn’t set out to fool you or anyone for fun. I didn’t have a choice. I had to change everything so I could get away.” All her life, from her father to Daniel, she’d been raised to respect the truth. Her heart ached with having to live so many lies just to stay alive. The reality didn’t ease the adjustment to her moral compass.

  “I know. And we’re going to figure everything out so you can be free to be yourself from now on.”

  “I hope so.” She carried the plates to the table and dropped to a chair across from Hayden. “I wish I’d been able to find more of Daniel’s cases. I only got the last five he presided over.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Hayden bent his head, softly said a prayer, then met her gaze. “Since we’re being honest now, would you tell me why you’re mad at God?”

  She figured he’d get around to the subject of religion. Just hadn’t expected it quite so soon. She took a sip of coffee, savoring the much-missed flavor. “My mother died very soon after I was born. From complications of pneumonia.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I never knew her to miss her.” Even looking at photos of her mother hadn’t tugged on any heartstrings. “My father is a different story.”

  He’d taught her everything—to cook, shoot a gun, thread a needle, dress her dolls, and change the oil in his truck. He let her watch scary movies and encouraged her to read everything she could get her hands on.

  Hayden wiped his mouth and took a drink of coffee. “He died when you were how old?”

  “Ten.”

  “What happened?”

  She set down the biscuit she’d taken a bite from, her appetite gone. “He was coming out of the office he shared with Daniel and was shot in a drive-by. The police never caught the shooter.” And her life had been ripped to shreds.

  Her first true taste of injustice.

  Wasn’t it because of this injustice that she went into the field she did? That she acted on Daniel’s suggestion that she hire out to the FBI? How ironic that the ones who paid her salary were now after her.

  “I’m sorry, Bella.”

  “He was a good man. Daniel had met him when Dad was right out of law school. They met on a golf course, if you can believe that.” She wiped away the tears misting her vision. “Daniel invited him into his private practice before Dad even took the bar exam.”

  Hayden set his napkin on top of his plate.

  She did the same, although she’d barely touched her breakfast. “He took Dad under his wing. Helped him in the industry. Taught him the way around the courts.” She smiled as memories rolled through her mind. “Neither of them ever missed anything of mine. Ballet recitals. First crushes. Concerts.”

  Taking another sip of coffee, she stared out over the bayou. “When Dad died, Daniel never hesitated. He’d been my godfather all my life. He was the only family I had. It was never a question of if I’d live with him and if he would become my guardian.” She shrugged. “He got all the paperwork done and it was legal within months.”

  “I hate to keep saying I’m sorry, but that’s all I can think of. I truly hurt for you.” Hayden flashed her a gentle smile.

  She smiled back. “It’s okay. But losing Daniel to such a violent crime too . . . well, now you can understand why I’m mad at God.” That was putting it mildly. All these years later and she was still so angry.

  “But you know Scripture so well. You must’ve had a Christian upbringing.”

  “Yes. My father was a very religious man. After he died, Daniel tried to keep up a Christian home. It just didn’t work. I was angry, he didn’t know what he was doing—before long, he just gave up.” She remembered the feeling. “I don’t blame him. I was relieved when he did. I never wanted to disappoint Daniel, but it was all an act.”

  “But if you were raised as a Christian, you know that—”

  She stood and lifted her plate. “Please don’t try to preach to me now, Hayden. I know the Bible. I don’t deny there’s a God. I don’t argue the point. I’m mad at Him. That’s my personal business, okay?”

  He grabbed his plate and put it in the sink. “Fine. But I’m going to be praying for you, no matter what you say.”

  She shook her head. “Knock yourself out.” She rinsed the dishes and handed them to Hayden, who put them in the dishwasher. “Just keep your prayers to yourself.”

  Shutting the dishwasher door, he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands. “Well then, let’s see those cases. We should be able to get a lead.”

  Good. He’d let the matter drop. She led the way to the living room, grabbed the papers he’d brought. “None of these ring any bells. Daniel never talked about any of them.”

  He grabbed the file and sat on the couch, flipping through the pages. “Okay, let’s start on the last ones for the month before his murder. You take these three.” He passed her pages. “And I’ll take these two. Let’s find out if those agents were involved in either case. If not, I think we can eliminate them.” He reached for his iPad, rattling off his login information so she could also get into the legal database system.

  She sat at her computer desk and began searching. Using Hayden’s login ensured no red flags would be raised that would put her in danger. There were limited documents, but the dockets of each trial were a matter of public record. That would contain the pretrial motions, including the witness lists. If Lars or Jack were involved with the case, they would be listed as potential witnesses.

  Ten minutes garnered the government’s witness list for the first case. FBI agents were listed, but not Lars Hartlock or Jack Devane. Dead end. She began her hunt on the second trial.

  What if they didn’t find anything? Where would they go if they couldn’t find a connection in Daniel’s last cases—go back further? No, that wasn’t right. It had to be a recent trial. Unless the witness who came to Daniel waited a long time to tell him. She ran her fingers through her hair, tightening the strands in her hand and tugging.

  The government’s witness list from the second case came up on the computer screen. Bella leaned forward and chewed on her bottom lip. Scanning . . . reading . . . all the way to the end. Nope, no Hartlock or Devane.

  She cleared the information and started the search on the third one. This was going nowhere. They wouldn’t find any connection. If it’d been this easy, she would have thought to do it years ago.

  Bella was more than a little embarrassed she hadn’t considered stealing Hayden’s login information years ago and doing this. Maybe that was a good thing—she hadn’t turned into a full-fledged criminal. She smiled to herself. Not yet.

  “I found it. Both agents were on the witness list for this trial.”

  She spun and faced Hayden, her heart hammering so hard it hurt her ribs. Could they really be on the right track? After all this time, would justice finally be served for Daniel?

  “Sorry I didn’t call last night. We got into town later than I’d anticipated.” Hartlock peered over the top of the diner’s laminated menu. “By the time we got settled in the motel and grabbed something to eat, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “No problem.” Rafe worked to sip on his coffee without his displeasure being easy to read.

  Devane shifted in his chair. “What’s good here?”

  Rafe shrugged. “It’s all good.” Good, but a little spicy. Maybe the agents would get upset stomachs and head back to Little Rock. He swallowed. That was mean, even if he was only teasing. Kinda.

  “Might watch out for the spices. Has a little bit of a kick.”

  “Thanks.” Devane concentrated back on the menu.

  The young waitress sashayed back to their table with a pot of coffee. “You boys ready to order?” She smiled a little too long at Ra
fe, the obvious youngster of the trio.

  They placed their orders, Devane ordering enough to feed all three of them. The waitress left, then tense silence hung as heavy as the bacon grease in the gravy.

  “So,” Hartlock began, “anything new?”

  Rafe took a sip of hot coffee. “Yes, I solved the whole thing since I heard from you yesterday.” He forced a chuckle. “Did you get any hits with the photos?”

  “No. We showed them to all the old security guards at Daniel’s subdivision. And to the students who clerked for Daniel. And to the interns in the courthouse. No one recognized Hayden Simpson at all.”

  Devane shook his head. “You might be right and the man didn’t know Tate was his father.”

  “I believe he didn’t have a clue.” That was the truth.

  Hartlock cleared his throat. “What about this Bella Miller?”

  Rafe clenched his hand under the table, curling it into a tight fist. “She’s Simpson’s best friend.”

  “What do you think she knows?”

  Shrugging, Rafe relaxed his hand and reached for his cup. “She moved here a couple of years ago, is younger than Simpson, so she really has no ties to the area or its history. Or the Simpsons.”

  Although she knew about Tate being Simpson’s father before Mrs. Simpson told her, and there was no explanation for that, Rafe didn’t want to bring that fact to the table just yet. Not until he figured out how she knew.

  The waitress delivering their meals broke Hartlock’s study of Rafe. The smell of the sausage nearly turned his stomach, but he smiled at the waitress as he thanked her. When she left, Rafe bowed his head and offered up grace, then lifted his eyes to meet the ASAC’s stare.

  “You into all that religion stuff?”

  Rafe paused in unwrapping his silverware, his muscles tensing. “I’m a Christian, yes.”

  “How’s that work in this profession?” Devane poured salt and pepper over his scrambled eggs.

  “What do you mean?” Rafe asked.

  Devane swallowed, then took a gulp of coffee. “Christians aren’t supposed to lie or cuss or anything, right?”