by Brenda Novak
Kennedy hugged both children, then walked over to Grace, who was sitting under the awning of her Fixin’s stand, watching him. When he drew close enough, he could see the small droplets of moisture on her top lip and cleavage from the humidity. But to him she’d never looked prettier. She had her hair pulled back, and was wearing a simple cotton dress with black sandals.
“How’s business?” he asked.
She didn’t bother answering. She was upset about something, he could tell.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you know what the Vincellis are doing?” she asked.
Evidently, word was spreading fast….
Kennedy shrugged as though he wasn’t concerned. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What are the Vincellis doing?” Heath asked.
“They’re voting for Vicki Nibley,” Kennedy explained.
Teddy’s jaw dropped. “Joe’s voting for Mrs. Nibley?”
“Joe hasn’t signed anything that I’ve seen,” Kennedy told them. “But I’m not sure how he feels. I haven’t been able to reach him.”
Teddy’s expression grew troubled. “The Vincellis are our friends.”
Kennedy put his hands in his pockets. “They have a right to choose who to vote for.”
“But why wouldn’t they vote for you?” Heath asked.
“They think Mrs. Nibley will serve their purposes better, I guess.”
“What does that mean?” Teddy stared up at him.
“That she’ll do what they want her to.”
“Oh.”
Kennedy turned to Grace. “My mother’s expecting me and the boys for dinner. Can we help you carry this stuff inside before we go?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve got it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said.
He waved Teddy and Heath toward the SUV. “Hop in and buckle up. Your grandpa’s not feeling very well today. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“He’s sick a lot,” Teddy observed.
Kennedy needed to tell his boys what was happening to Grandpa. Soon. But tonight wasn’t the night. There were too many other things on his mind.
“Why don’t you take these to your folks,” Grace said and gave him a jar of peaches, a jar of pickles, tomato sauce and some carrots and fresh herbs from her garden.
He wanted to refuse because he knew his parents didn’t like her. But she was so sweet to send it, he couldn’t.
“Thanks.” He waited until the boys had carried the food to the car before letting his gaze settle fully on Grace. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said.
Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “You have to stay away from me, Kennedy.”
“Who says?”
“I do.”
He grinned, hoping to soften her. “What if I can’t?”
She didn’t return his smile, or his playful tone. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?” she asked, her expression serious, worried.
“Are you trying to make me do the same thing?” he asked, losing the smile.
“No! I’m trying to leave you just as I found you. You and those boys. I—” she cleared her throat and lowered her voice “—I don’t begrudge you what you’ve had in the past, Kennedy. I want you to have everything you desire.”
He admired the black fringe of her lashes, the clear blue of her eyes. “What if that’s you?” he said softly. “What if I want you, Grace?”
“Stop it, please! I’ll ruin everything for you.”
He tried to catch her hand as she got up and started for the house, but she sidestepped him at just the right moment. Then her feet flew across the porch, the door slammed and she was gone.
15
“Jed called me on Sunday,” Madeline said.
Ever since Kennedy had left a few hours earlier, Grace hadn’t been able to think of anything except the flyer. But mention of the man whose shop they’d broken into caught her attention quickly enough.
“He knows it was you?” Staring up at the waning moon, which looked like it was sitting on the back fence, she adjusted the volume on her cell phone so she could hear her stepsister above the cicadas.
“Yeah.”
“What did he say?”
Madeline’s voice faltered slightly as she answered. “He said he’s sorry for what I’ve been through, but that he didn’t kill my father.”
Grace had been lying in her hammock, enjoying the aroma of rosemary and anise rising from her garden. Now she sat up and let her bare feet dangle over the side. “Do you believe him?”
“I guess.”
The dejection in her stepsister’s voice made Grace feel guilty for her own relief. Somehow, Lee Barker had managed to be a decent father to Madeline.
“He seemed pretty sincere,” Madeline added. “He wasn’t even mad about what I did to his shop.”
“I can’t imagine he’d call you if he was the one who hurt…Dad,” Grace said.
“I know. I just…I have questions where he’s concerned.”
So did Grace, but they weren’t the same questions. Grace wanted to find out how Jed had gotten hold of the reverend’s Bible—and why he’d hidden it for so long.
“I asked him about quitting church,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“A man has to follow his heart.”
Grace pulled the hair off her neck, hoping the slight breeze stirring the trees would cool her. “Coming from Jed, that’s a mouthful. What do you think he meant by it?”
“I asked him to explain. He said he worshipped God in his own way and didn’t need someone like my father to tell him how he should live.”
“Sounds like you got more out of him than most people,” Grace said.
“I could tell he felt bad for me, that he was trying to make things better.”
“He must like you. Years ago, when folks questioned whether or not he might’ve been involved in Dad’s disappearance, he didn’t proclaim his innocence, remember? He just went quietly about his business.”
“I wish I hadn’t broken into his shop,” Madeline confessed. “He’s unusual, but…I think he’s a good man.”
“He bought some cookies from me the other day,” Grace said.
“He did?”
“I got the impression he was trying to let me know he accepts who I am.” It touched Grace that Jed, of all people, had reached out to her.
“He doesn’t know you were with me that night, does he?” Madeline asked.
“Tough to say. Who told him it was you in the first place?”
“Who knows? Word’s been circulating the way it always does in Stillwater. You should see all the letters and e-mails that have poured in to the paper.”
“What about Chief McCormick?”
“What about him? I’m sure he knows it was me, too. But he hasn’t contacted me. Unless Jed decides to press charges, I think he’ll just let it go.”
In that case, if Jed realized the Bible was missing, he might suspect someone was with Madeline. Had she found it, she probably would’ve printed it in the paper. “I don’t think he suspects me,” she said.
“Good. I’m taking enough flak for both of us.”
“What do the letters say?”
“Some are sympathetic. Others criticize me for taking matters into my own hands. The worst tell me to ask my family to take a lie detector test before I go busting into someone’s business.”
Grace caught her breath. Madeline had never mentioned a lie detector before. Was she beginning to wonder? To toy with the idea of asking a few questions when she had a machine to tell her whether or not those she loved were responding truthfully? It had to be a temptation, didn’t it?
The mere suggestion terrified Grace, but she couldn’t slough off Madeline’s words without giving herself away. “Do you need us to do that?” she asked, the beating of her heart vibrating all the way out to her fingertips. “Take a lie detector test?”
“
Of course not,” Madeline said. “I trust you. You know that.”
Grace covered her eyes with one hand. Did Madeline really believe in her family that much? Or was she afraid of what she might learn? “Those things are notoriously unreliable,” she said. To her own ear, she sounded as if she had something to hide. No doubt that was probably the D.A. in her.
In any event, Madeline didn’t seem to notice. “A false positive is all we need right now,” she agreed.
“You’re not going to print any of the letters you’ve received about the break-in, are you?” Grace asked, changing the subject as soon as she dared.
“No. I feel a little uncomfortable about that, but—”
“Why?”
“Because I’d print them if what happened to me had happened to someone else. That’s what good reporting is all about, you know? Tackling tough cases like this one, helping to ferret out the truth, bringing the moral issues to light.”
The wind had come up and set the wind chimes moving. The melodic tinkling was a beautiful yet lonely sound.
Grace stared across the lawn and garden, thinking that what had happened to them could’ve happened to almost any family. Could’ve…but didn’t. “You own the paper. You get to decide. That’s one of the perks.”
“Omitting a story just because I’m involved in it doesn’t say much for fair reporting. But Mom’s taken enough abuse. I’m not going to resurrect old tensions by printing this garbage. There are enough accusations flying around already.”
The darkness in Stillwater was more complete than anywhere else she’d ever been. It seemed to press closer, a velvet shroud that sent a trickle of unease down Grace’s spine. She considered going inside, but the air in the yard was cooler. “Have you talked to Clay about the letters?”
“Yeah. He agrees I should toss them. So does Molly.”
Lightning bugs hovered near Grace’s porch light, glowing as if they were under some magical spell. “Have you figured out who Mom’s seeing?”
“Not yet. I drove by there late last night, even forgot my scruples long enough to approach the house and peek in the window. But the drapes were pulled and I couldn’t see anything. What about you?”
Grace had been far too involved in her own life to watch her mother very closely. “No.”
“She’s sure excited about you and Kennedy.”
Grace nearly said, “There is no me and Kennedy,” but she knew her sister wouldn’t believe her. Not after hearing Teddy and Heath go on about the camping trip, and how Kennedy had thrown her in the water and carried her to camp and roasted her some marshmallows.
“Have you heard that the Vincellis are suddenly campaigning against Kennedy?” Grace asked. She’d been too upset to broach the subject when Madeline was over earlier, hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of Heath and Teddy. But now she wondered if her stepsister could help.
“I have.”
“Is there anything you can do to minimize the damage?”
“Like what?”
Pushing off with one foot, Grace set the hammock in motion as the wind began to whip the fine strands of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “I don’t know. You could publish some kind of rebuttal.”
“I wish I could, but that’d only make things worse. Folks around here know my connection to you.”
“He’d make a good mayor.”
“Don’t worry, nothing they do will change the outcome of the election. The Archers are far more powerful than the Vincellis.”
Grace stopped swinging. “This isn’t about liking one family over the other. It’s about disliking me.” She was afraid the opposition would document the sins of her past and broadcast them all around town, and she feared that would hurt Kennedy’s chances of winning. If the Vincellis caused enough of an outcry, they could even endanger her job. Mississippi was nothing if not devoutly religious. “Where does Joe stand in all of this? Do you know?”
“I’ve heard he’s trying to remain neutral. Joe’s pretty self-serving. He probably doesn’t want to make enemies on either side, just in case.”
She hoped Kennedy would go about his business, the Vincellis would be mollified, and everything would return to normal. Grace had tried to call him earlier to tell him not to let the boys come over anymore, but he hadn’t been home.
“I hate Joe,” she said.
“He’s asked me out a few times,” Madeline told her.
“I hope you didn’t go.”
“No. He doesn’t know how to treat a woman. Anyone who’s seen how he behaved with Cindy can tell you that.”
Grace’s phone beeped, and she knew instinctively that it was the call she’d been waiting for. “Somebody else is trying to get hold of me,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Somebody?”
“Stop it.”
Madeline responded with a laugh and then a yawn. “Okay, sleep tight.”
Grace doubted she’d get any sleep at all. She was too angry at the Vincellis—and yet, to a degree, she could understand. How would she feel if a member of her family suddenly went missing, and she suspected Joe or one of his relatives was responsible?
Taking a deep breath, she switched to the other caller. “Hello?”
“Sorry I missed you earlier.” Kennedy. The sound of his voice seemed to rush around her with the wind. “I was still at my parents’ house.”
“How’s your dad? Better?”
There was a slight hesitation in his response. “A little.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious.”
He cleared his throat. “No, but he needs some tests. Do you think you could watch the boys tomorrow so my mother can go to the doctor’s with him? I’d watch them myself, but I have meetings all afternoon.”
Grace got up and moved to the porch, hanging restlessly over the railing. “You want me to babysit Heath and Teddy?”
“Do I have any other boys?” he said with a chuckle.
“Are you crazy?” she replied. “You have to keep yourself and your children away from me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t leave that on my answering machine.”
“I shouldn’t have to point out the reality of the situation.”
“What reality? Why do I have to stay away?”
“You know why!”
“I’m not going to let the Vincellis dictate who I see, Grace.”
A clatter in the alley caused Grace’s stomach muscles to tighten involuntarily—until she heard a brief catfight and the cat she’d noticed while gardening came streaking through her yard.
“Then…I’ll leave,” she said. “I’ll go back to Jackson. Immediately.”
The thought had gone through her mind a million times since she’d seen that flyer. She hated to return to Jackson before she was expected at work, to face George and his new girlfriend, especially when staying in Evonne’s house felt right in so many ways. This old home was becoming hers. It had embraced her as Evonne would have. But if by staying she made life difficult for Kennedy or his kids, she’d rather go. Her family relationships were better than they’d been in years. Maybe that small amount of progress was enough. Maybe she could go on and forget.
“Don’t move away,” he said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she countered.
“Because you belong here, at least for the summer.”
And at the end of the summer? Maybe by then it would be too late to escape unscathed. Maybe it’d be too late for them both. “I don’t belong anywhere. Definitely don’t bring the boys, because I’m leaving,” she said and hung up.
He was too stubborn. She had to leave Stillwater, she realized. The sooner the better.
Hurrying into the house, she dragged her suitcases out of the spare bedroom and began to pack.
After Grace disconnected, Kennedy paced the carpet of the parlor. He didn’t know many houses that had a parlor these days, but his house was older than most, and that was what his wife had called this room. Here sat her grand piano, her
music stand, her nicest furniture. Since she died, no one ever really came in here. Only Kennedy and occasionally Heath and Teddy—when they wanted to feel close to her.
Tonight, however, Kennedy couldn’t feel any type of connection with Raelynn. He was too anxious. Had Grace been serious about leaving town? Surely not. He’d heard, from a variety of sources, that she had a three-month lease on the house.
If she did move, where would she go? Back to Jackson? Back to the man she’d planned to marry?
Kennedy didn’t like that idea. He disliked it enough that he was tempted to jump into his SUV and drive over to her place, do what he could to convince her to stay. But he couldn’t leave the boys alone, and it was too late to get a babysitter.
After several more passes across the parlor, he finally picked up the phone. The only thing he could think of was to call his mother for help. He knew she wouldn’t like it, but she was the one person who, regardless of what happened in the world, had always been there for him.
The following morning, Grace tucked the hair falling out of her ponytail behind her ears, put on some water for tea and resumed packing. She’d fallen asleep not long after starting last night, and woken up late. But she didn’t have that much stuff. She could finish in one day and head out tonight.
She’d have to leave behind a key and hire movers to deal with the furniture, though. George’s support now belonged to someone else.
She thought of Madeline and knew she should call her. She should call Irene and Clay, too. They’d be willing to help. But she didn’t know what to say to them. They wouldn’t be happy about her leaving.
With a sigh, she sat on the floor, crossed her legs and leaned back on her palms. She’d felt she was finally beginning to heal. And now this…
The kettle whistled. Standing, she walked around the boxes she’d brought from the garage. Evonne had always enjoyed chamomile tea. Although it was already far too hot for anything served without ice cubes, Grace saw this cup as a final toast to her old friend.
Before she could pour the hot water, however, a knock sounded at the door.
“Grace?”
Hearing Teddy’s voice, she cursed under her breath. What was Kennedy thinking? She’d told him she couldn’t babysit. He was crazy for asking her in the first place.
