Reasonable Doubt

by Tracey V. Bateman

  She reached for the doorknob, then stopped once more. “Justin,” she said without turning around to face him. “I hope they find out that you are innocent. I don’t want to believe you capable of this crime.”

  He stared after her as she disappeared through the door, wishing she could just believe in him without the proof. But he supposed that was too much to ask. Despair gnawed his gut. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to revive their relationship. He’d murdered their friendship with fifteen years of no contact.

  He clenched his fist, pressing it tightly against his thigh to keep from putting a hole in the wall. He’d been through the house at least ten times in the past four hours, and there was nothing…Nothing! He’d scanned through every videotape in the video library———to no avail.

  Where? Where could it be? Amelia had shown him the copy. But he’d taken that when he’d left her on the floor that night. She could have been lying about the existence of another tape, but he was sure she was on the level. Another copy of the tape existed, and he had to find it.

  Keri turned another page, barely remembering what she’d just read. The entire afternoon had been filled with pages and pages of unintelligible words. With a frustrated huff, she tossed the book aside, rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in a fluffy pillow.

  She hated feeling so conflicted. One second she was sure Justin was guilty—or reasonably sure—and then he’d do something like pray with his son, or smile so earnestly at her that she couldn’t help but believe everything he told her.

  The one thing she had known for sure over the last few years, the one thing, was that working for justice made her feel good about herself. It made her feel confident. Now in one day, Justin had ridden into town, and suddenly she was having second thoughts about doing her duty. Ten years of hard work down the tubes. The chance for the only decent cop position in Briarwood…down the tubes. All her brave words about being married to her job and not interested in marriage and children…down the tubes. She shuddered. Where had that one come from?

  Justin had almost kissed her twice now. And the second time she’d practically begged for it. If Josh hadn’t screamed bloody murder at the right moment, she’d be lost right now. Unable to take Justin into the jail. If he’d asked her, she’d have given in to her heart and run away like a fool. She’d be the worst kind of citizen: a corrupt cop, guilty of aiding and abetting a suspect—a fugitive from justice. Well, no. Not quite that. He wasn’t under arrest yet. But if Raven’s contact at the KCPD was correct, it could happen any second. Would she be able to push her feelings aside and still take him away from those boys?

  In all likelihood, Justin was counting on just that thing. Why else would he be trying to kiss her so soon after becoming reacquainted? He’d obviously moved on without looking back when he left Briarwood. Probably had had scads of girlfriends over the years. Why would he be attracted to her? Last time she’d looked, she was no prize. Not a troll by any means, but nothing for someone like Justin to fall over himself about.

  She pulled herself up from her bed and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. Red curls exploded from her head, giving her a wild appearance—not like the women in her romance novels, whose messy, curly locks always made the hero long to plunge his fingers through the mass.

  Ha! Justin wouldn’t be able to get his fingers through her hair without getting them stuck in her tangled, coarse mop. With a sigh, she grabbed her brush and a fat brown scrunchie from her dresser. Tugging and wincing, she brushed out the tangles and pulled back the riotous mass. She should chop it off, she thought with a sniff, as curls around her temples popped out of the band. It would make a lot more sense in her line of work. Only Dad’s insistence that she was the “spitting image of her mother,” kept her from it. Mom’s hair was one of Dad’s fondest memories. And if Keri admitted it, she liked the idea of resembling her mother so strongly. It comforted her to look in the mirror, see the resemblance and remember.

  A knock on the door startled her. She jumped and pressed her hand to her racing heart. “What?” she barked.

  “Well, aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” Dad’s voice drifted through closed door. “You have a phone call.”

  Keri twisted the doorknob and gave it a firm yank, coming face to face with Dad. “Who is it?” she whispered, taking the cell phone and covering the mouthpiece. “It’s not the chief, is it? He told me not to try to go to town.”

  “It’s Denni.”

  Hesitating, Keri frowned. What would her sister be calling out here for? Especially on a Tuesday afternoon? “If she called to cancel for Thursday, I’ll kill her!”

  Dad returned her frown. “Just talk to her. She don’t have all day.” He turned and headed back down the hall.

  “Denni?” Keri closed the door and stretched back out on the bed, crossing her legs out in front of her.

  “Hi!”

  “You’re not backing out on Thanksgiving are you? Dad really wants this.”

  “Not unless the weather stays bad. The main roads should be clear, though.”

  “So you’re just calling to talk?”

  “Actually, I called to ask if I can bring one of the girls. Everyone else has plans for Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, sure. The more the merrier, you know that.”

  Denni had worked for years as a social worker. A few years ago, she’d grown disillusioned at seeing how many children grew up to become either welfare recipients or inmates in state prisons. She had opened a home for eighteen-year-old women just out of foster care. Finding work with her help, or filling out financial-aid packets for college was a prerequisite for living in her grand Victorian. Keri admired her more than anyone she knew.

  “So, Dad tells me you have company up there in the Big Woods.” She hedged a bit, obviously curious, but probably not wanting to press. As a social worker, Denni understood privacy, unlike their sister Raven, whose job as a reporter kept Keri on the defensive most of the time.

  “Did Dad tell you who the company is?”

  “Yeah…”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Keri adjusted her weight to her side and rested her head on her free hand.

  “So what does he look like after all these years?”

  A grin lifted Keri’s lips. Always the romantic, of course Denni would want the essential information.

  “Tom Cruise meets Brendan Fraser. Only better.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So which one’s mouth is his like?”

  Warmth crept up Keri’s neck, and she knew her face was red. “I guess it’s more like Brendan’s.”

  “Has he kissed you yet?”

  “Denni! He’s a suspect in a murder case!”

  “Oh, come on, I find it hard to believe Justin is capable of murder. Besides, suspects can’t kiss?”

  Keri rolled her eyes and fought the urge not to divulge the information about the couple of close calls. Besides, the more she thought about those moments, the more humiliated she became and the more convinced that Justin was playing her. Cons tried it all the time with female corrections officers and cops. A good-looking prisoner could play on the vanity or poor self-image of a vulnerable officer. It had happened time and again. But she wouldn’t let Justin do that to her. No way! She was not vulnerable to him.

  “I can’t get romantically involved with him.”

  “So that still doesn’t answer my question. Come on…kiss or no kiss?”

  “No! The guy is most likely going to the pen for a really long time, if not forever. I don’t exactly think we should be discussing him like a potential prom date.”

  Keri could sense Denni sober. “You’re right. Dad said he’s got a couple of kids?”

  Thankful for the change of subject, Keri stated, “Yeah, Billy’s a real sweetie. He lights up the house.” Her mind went back to the incident over the board game in the kitchen. “Josh is…let’s just say he’s been through a lot.”

  “C
hildren deal with trauma differently.”

  “I guess. I don’t know. It just seems like there’s more to it. Like he’s been touched in a way that Billy hasn’t. I think he’s dealing with a trauma Billy didn’t go through.”

  “Like what?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Does Justin have the boys in counseling? Or did he, before he took off?”

  Ashamed, she hated to admit the truth. “I don’t know. I never asked him. Never even occurred to me.”

  “Well, it’s my job to ask that stuff. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to be done right now, anyway. There may be counseling available for them once they enter the foster-care system. If it comes to that.”

  Keri tried to imagine Billy and Josh living happily in a foster home, but she had trouble conjuring up a convincing image. A sudden thought occurred to her and she sat straight up with a gasp. “Hey, they wouldn’t split them up, would they?”

  “They’d try not to. But you never know what homes are available.”

  “I hate this.” She rested her forehead in the palm of her free hand. “I hate that those boys would have to be without their dad. Justin’s a great dad. Even if they get to stick together, they’ll be miserable without him.”

  “So you don’t think he did it?”

  “Did what?”

  “Killed his wife?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I hope not. I just said he’s a good dad.”

  “A good father wouldn’t kill his children’s mother, Keri.”

  “That’s not for me to decide. It’s not for anyone to decide except a jury of twelve.”

  An exasperated sigh hissed through the line. “This is Justin Kramer we’re talking about. I don’t believe you can be as objective as you’re trying to sound. It has to be eating you alive. You need to take a position and stick to it.”

  Keri’s ire rose at the firmness in Denni’s voice. When was her older sister going to stop bossing her around? “I don’t have a position one way or another. I only mentioned on an impersonal level that I’ve noticed Justin takes adequate care of his boys. That doesn’t mean I plan on letting him slip through my fingers again.” Keri cringed. Had she really said again?

  Denni’s chuckled answered her question. “I knew you weren’t over him.”

  “I didn’t mean ‘again.’ I mean I’m not letting him go until I know for sure if he’s going to be arrested. As in he’s not getting away from me. “Stop! Police!’ And all that. So don’t try to make me sound like a simpering, wishy-washy female cop.”

  “Oh, hey, speaking of that. Dad said you’re up for chief. How great would that be if you got it? I can’t even imagine a woman as chief of police there. That’s like having a female president. Only bigger considering we’re talking about Briarwood. Monumental.”

  Keri’s mind raced, trying to keep up with Denni’s line of reasoning. “Yeah, well, if I’m arrested for contributing after the fact, I’ll pretty much lose all hope of that.”

  “So I guess you have to decide what’s most important to you. Your job or helping an innocent man?”

  “If he’s innocent.”

  “He is. You know it in your heart.”

  Denni’s words played over and over in Keri’s mind long after they’d said goodbye. If she could only be sure Justin was innocent or guilty. At this point, she couldn’t risk everything on a whim and a few tingles whenever he came close. When the phone rang again, she jumped. “Hello?”

  “Keri, honey? This is Ruth. I’m seeing a car off the road here.”

  “Well, Ruth, you’ll have to call the station. Remember I’m on vacation at the cabin with Dad?”

  “Well, of course I remember! I’m not in town. I left the café in Doris’s hands and hightailed it right out here.”

  “Ruth! What do you mean? Chief Manning said the crews weren’t getting through.”

  “Oh, well, it was slow-going. Took me the better part of four hours to get here.”

  Four hours? The woman must have driven fifteen miles per hour the entire way.

  “What are you doing here two days early?”

  “When your Daddy told me about those sweet boys and your handsome Justin, I couldn’t stay away. I figured you’d need more groceries, for one thing, and I picked up a few coloring books and some toys to keep the kids occupied.”

  The woman actually giggled. “Well, there’s my cuddly bear standing on the front porch waiting for me. Yoo-hoo! Hi, honey cakes!” She clicked off the phone without saying goodbye.

  Keri rolled her eyes and pressed the button to shut off the phone. It was downright embarrassing how much in love those two were. But, she had to admit, she loved Ruth and was glad her dad had found a woman he could dote on. She grinned and went to greet the object of her dad’s affection.

  Justin couldn’t hide his surprise at Keri’s suggestion they pull his car out of the ditch.

  “What?” she asked, staring petulantly at him as though she were Oscar the Grouch caught in a random act of kindness.

  He shrugged, unwilling to antagonize her and risk a change of heart. “Nothing. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Scowling, she grabbed her coat, hat and gloves. “Well, don’t read anything into it. Ruth suggested it. I just agree that we should get your car out of the ditch.”

  “All right.” He slipped into his own coat and gloves and followed her outside.

  She remained silent as she fired up the Jeep and waited for it to warm up. Only when she’d eased the vehicle onto the road, did she speak. “Got your keys?”

  “Yep. Right here in my pocket.”

  She gave a practically imperceptible nod.

  Justin cleared his throat. “So, Ruth is quite a pistol, isn’t she?”

  Keri’s lips turned slightly up at the corners. “I think that’s why Dad likes her. He likes unconventional women.”

  “I remember your mom being sort of a free spirit, too, wasn’t she? I used to love coming over and tasting her new recipes or seeing new curtains.”

  Keri laughed. “She moved the furniture around every other week. She always needed something new.” Her eyes clouded. “That’s why she was out that night.”

  “The night she was killed?”

  “Yes.” Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. “She was painting the living room and ran out of paint. She had to drive thirty miles to Springfield to find a place still open at ten o’clock. She never made it to the store. The man who killed her had been drinking since four that afternoon. He was so plastered he doesn’t remember the accident.” Her voice choked and she drew a short breath. “He spent five years in prison. I heard that he returned to his happy home, and his wife and children welcomed him with open arms.”

  “Is this why you decided to become a cop?” Justin asked quietly. “Because of your mom?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so. I had high hopes of closing down the bar in Briarwood. But of course that didn’t happen. So I thought I’d intimidate the drunks to stay off the road. But just the other day, Junior Conner—” she glanced sideways “—remember him?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Anyway, just the other day, he got behind the wheel of his truck and almost killed a group of teenagers. I tell you, if I had my way, he’d go to prison for the rest of his life.”

  “Maybe he’ll get some help while he’s locked up,” Justin replied.

  “I’m sure he will. And he’ll be sober for about thirty minutes after he gets out of jail.”

  Justin decided not to press. Better to stay on neutral ground for now. Keri was in no mood to consider the possibility of genuine rehabilitation.

  Slowing the Jeep, she carefully maneuvered around so that they were headed back toward the cabin. “We’ll hook up the chain. Even with four-wheel drive and chains on the tires, I don’t know if we can get enough traction to get your car out of the ditch.”

  “It’s going to be tricky. Want me to drive the Jeep?”

  Her withering look was loud and cle
ar. He grinned and held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

  It took only a few minutes to connect the two vehicles with a heavy chain. While the engine warmed, he opened the glove box and pulled out his cell phone. He checked his messages. Four. All from Bob. All within the past three hours. The last one occurring only ten minutes before they got to the car.

  Something must be up for him to call so many times in such rapid succession. Justin’s stomach flopped. What if the killer had been found? Or what if the witnesses had admitted they were lying?

  He punched in Bob’s number. After several rings he got the answering machine.

  He left a short message, pocketed the phone, and concentrated on steering while Keri pulled his car from the ditch.

  Chapter Seven

  So much for a peaceful two-week vacation, Keri groused to herself as she filled the sink with soapy water. It was bad enough that Justin’s presence brought her nothing but anxiety, but now Ruth had breezed in with her exhausting, larger-than-life personality and upped the energy level in the small cabin about ten notches. She’d also brought a TV/VCR combo so the boys could watch cartoon videos. Not that Keri begrudged the boys a few minutes of fun, but what about her vacation? And being as how she and Ruth were the only single women occupying the cramped cabin, Keri had to share her room with the woman. And her bed.

  With a half growl, she plunged her hands deep into the bubbles to locate the sponge. She attacked the dishes with vengeance, taking out her frustration on the remains of Ruth’s special Texas-style fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans swimming in bacon grease. Had the woman never heard of light meals or reduced fat? Keri shook her head. How Ruth kept a pretty decent figure for a woman her age, she’d never guess.

  As the pile of dishes began to shrink, Keri’s mind bobbed from one person to the next until settling on Josh and Billy. She had to come up with some way to help them deal with their mom’s death—especially Josh. He had barely said three words most of the day. Keri wasn’t sure if it was because of the trauma of his horrible dream, or if he felt silly after Justin told him there was no evidence anyone had been outside of his window in the recent past. Regardless, everyone’s attempts to draw the boy out of his shell today had failed. He’d barely eaten and had meekly surrendered to the bath Justin was currently overseeing.