Paul glanced at me and gave me a nod before shutting the door.
I let out a long breath before hurrying to make myself decent. Thankfully, I’d left a T-shirt over the dresser so I pulled it over my nursing tank that left very little to the imagination. I then changed Jackson before heading out into the hallway.
My room and Nova’s room were trashed while the men turned them up-side-down. I clung to Jackson, alarmed, and Mom rested her hand on my shoulder. “This is so unprofessional,” she muttered so only I could hear.
Something shattered downstairs and I winced, and a moment later, Dad yelled. Paul emerged from my bedroom, red with rage. Our eyes met before he growled and rushed down the stairs.
“This might have done it,” the detective said from my bedroom. He stepped out holding Forrest’s bow and arrows. “Mrs. Miller, whose are these?”
“They’re Forrest’s. He made them himself—”
He lifted the arrow in his gloved hand. “Have you ever used them?”
“Yes, once or twice.”
“So, you know how to use them?”
“It’s not complicated.”
He smirked and dropped them in a large evidence bag. “We’ll get them tested.”
About twenty minutes later, they all left, leaving the house in shambles. Mom and I stared into my room at my upturned mattress, Forrest’s clothes—which I’d packed into suitcases—strewn everywhere, and all my personal possessions on the floor.
“I think that detective has it out for you,” Mom said.
I looked up at her. “I think you might be right.”
Paul appeared beside us, still red around the ears. “This isn’t how they normally do things. I’m going to report that detective.” He reached over and lifted Jackson off my hip. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”
I nodded and shut the bedroom door behind me.
Twenty minutes later, I entered the kitchen to find Dad and Paul putting the last few things away while Mom made breakfast. Tears of gratitude fell and I sunk into a chair. “Thank you.”
They all looked at me. Dad set the broom aside and kissed my head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
I looked up into his eyes. “I can’t pack Forrest’s clothes again.”
He nodded and rushed up the stairs.
Mom set a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me. “I’ll go help your father.”
With them both gone, I shifted uncomfortably. After all I’d heard, I didn’t like being left alone with Paul.
He gave Jackson a pat on the head as Jackson wandered around the kitchen, and came and sat beside me. I stared down at my food.
“Are we going to see Nova today?”
“I’ll go,” I mumbled, shoving food in my mouth.
“I’ll take you. To be honest, with all the parents flooding into town, I really don’t want to be here.”
I pressed the heel of my hands against my eyes. “I . . . I don’t know if I can go to Bearville and see that detective again after all this. I have so much to clean up now.”
“Bray.” He touched my back.
I flinched away. “Don’t. They just took his bow and arrow and threw all his things everywhere. They might as well unbury him while they’re at it.”
“That guy’s an ass.”
“No kidding.”
“We’ll get it fixed, okay? But, you should go to Nova.” He sighed. “They found something incriminating in her room.”
My eyes shot to him. “What?”
“It was a progress card which he had to sign saying the kids were improving, but she wrote on hers a confession of love . . . and he responded.”
My breath caught as my heart hit my stomach. “What did he say?”
“He said she is a lovely girl and should be looking at boys her own age and not married men. She’d whited it out, but they could see the imprint of the pen.”
I clutched his arm. “There goes their affair theory, but Nova . . . ”
“They could use the rejection as motive.”
I groaned. “They’re just out to get her! There’s got to be something to prove her innocence.”
He stared into my eyes. “Even if everything mounts up against her, she’ll still have you, and that will count for something in front of a jury.”
My shoulders sagged. “A jury? A court case? I’ve never even thought about that. I don’t know if I could sit through a recount of what they think happened while they flash pictures of Forrest’s body.”
“Bray.” He tugged on my arm. I scooted closer, resting my forehead against his chest. His arms around me felt warm and safe. “Bray, you’ll have someone with you every step of the way.”
I moaned. “I used to be so independent.”
“You still are. Allowing people to help you doesn’t mean you’re needy.”
I ran my fingers down his muscular chest. He was right, but I still felt so afraid. But, I couldn’t let my fears rule my choices, so I forced them aside while my focus turned to his strong chest. Up and down my fingers ran, taking in the feeling of the shape and subtle twitching under my touch. My hand drifted further up to his collarbone, where his hand rested over mine. I froze, my heart skipping a beat when I realized what I was doing. I jumped to my feet, pulling free. “I’m sorry.”
“Bray.”
My cheeks burned. “I’m sorry.” I rushed out of the room, plucking up Jackson as I went.
I sank onto the couch in the front room. Covering my face so my flushed cheeks were hidden, I allowed myself to feel like a complete idiot. I couldn’t believe I’d behaved like a lovesick teenager. What would Forrest think of me doing that so soon after his death? I was officially the worst person in the world.
“Bray.”
I jumped at the sound of Paul’s voice and my head shot up. “Yes?”
“I’ll come and pick you up in a few hours and we’ll go see Nova.” He reached for the door, and I watched, unable to even speak as he slipped out.
Once the door shut I swore. I leaped to my feet and paced the room. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I said, turning to Jackson. He stared up at me with a grin. I rested my hands on my hips. “I can’t believe I stroked his chest! Your Daddy hasn’t even been gone a year and look at me.” I fell to my hands and knees in front of him. “What do I do, kid?”
He stood, wobbled, and sank back onto his butt again.
“Great, I’m asking for advice from a baby.” I sat back and helped him to his feet so he could practice walking. “This is ridiculous. I’m just horny or on the rebound or something, and I’m not thinking straight. That’s it, my feelings for Forrest are just being transferred over.”
Jackson took several steps on his own and I smiled. “Thanks for the chat kid.”
~ ~ ~
When I opened the door, Paul wore his cowboy gear, to my relief. The sheriff uniform turned me on as much as his cowboy clothes turned me off.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded, smiling. “We’ve been working for hours so the house is mostly back in order.” I called up the stairs, “I’m going to see Nova. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Bye!” Mom and Dad’s voices echoed down the stairs.
Paul talked most of the way. It seemed the majority of the morning the parents of the boarding school kids filled his office asking questions about the security of the town and offering suggestions on how to improve it. He and Clint smiled and nodded the whole time repeating over and over, “We’ll take that into consideration.”
When the parents finally left to do the outbound information meeting, they both breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re far more patient than me,” I said. “I think I would have screamed and ripped my hair out.�
�
He laughed. “Well I’m fairly sure I have a few more grays than I did this morning.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “What do you think?”
There wasn’t a single gray. “Oh, most definitely.”
He grinned.
We arrived and I hurried into the station. The officers recognized me immediately and pointed me in the right direction, Paul hot on my heels.
I turned down a corridor and came face to face with a female detective. She looked me over quickly. “Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes. I need to see Nova.”
She nodded and lifted her coffee to her lips. “Follow me.”
She led me into a dimly lit observation room where, through a window, I saw Nova sat with a man in a suit who sat facing her. He munched on a sandwich while she stared down at her hands in her lap.
“Mrs. Miller,” the woman said. “Nova still refuses to talk. We’ve tried everything, but without her speaking, we can’t prove her innocent like you say. We’re about to try one last thing, but if she doesn’t talk, we’ll have to charge her with the murder of your husband.”
I shook my head. “No. She didn’t do it.”
“Then, who did?” She wasn’t contemptuous, but her voice was gentle, firm, and sympathetic. “There’s no evidence anyone else was there. I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller, but facts are facts, so unless something new comes to light, Nova will find herself in a world of trouble.”
I turned toward the window and stared at Nova, chewing my thumb. “Please talk. Just one word, a name or something. Please, Nova.”
The man in the room finished his sandwich and stretched as someone brought a file to him. He nodded, took it, and set it on the small table. “Nova, I want to show you something.”
She didn’t even flinch.
The man opened the file and I gasped. Paul caught my arm as I stumbled back and the woman touched my shoulder. “You haven’t seen those?”
I shook my head.
The man placed the first photo down of Forrest’s body twisted and shoved into the beaver’s lodge. I covered my face as the urge to vomit overwhelmed me.
“Do you recognize this, Nova?”
I looked up at her. A tear ran down her cheek.
“It’s a yes or no question.”
She shook her head.
“How about these?” He pulled out pictures of Forrest’s back dotted with puncture wounds and finally one of his slit throat.
I buried my face into Paul’s chest. I couldn’t look. “Tell me what she does,” I said.
“She’s crying,” he answered.
“Nova?” the man said.
“She shook her head and now she’s covering her face.”
“Nova, how did Forrest Miller get these wounds?”
There was a long silence, the Paul whispered. “She’s just crying and shaking her head.”
“I have to go to her,” I said. “I have to tell her to talk. She has to talk.”
“Nova, did you do this to Mr. Miller?”
“She shook her head,” Paul said.
“Do you realize you’re the only person keeping the truth away from his wife and son?”
I spun around to see her face. Her whole body trembled as pain filled her eyes.
“Why did you kill him?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head.
“Then, who did? And, how?”
She waved her hands around in the air and I stared, my jaw gaping. “What’s she doing?”
“We thought maybe you knew,” the woman said. “She does it all the time, but when we ask her to write it down or draw it, she flat out refuses.”
“I have no idea.” I watched her, knowing she was trying to communicate something, but I didn’t know what.
“Mrs. Miller, let’s talk.” The woman touched my shoulder and led me out into a small conference room.
She watched Paul as he followed in after me and asked, “I presume you’re the sheriff of Papina?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am. This has shocked the town and I wish to see it through to the end, even if murder is out of my jurisdiction.”
“You’re not trying any heroics by investigating on your own are you?”
“No ma’am. I’m just here to support Mrs. Miller and keep up to date for the town and for the sheriff on the Res.”
She motioned for us all to sit. Once we were comfortable, she began. “I am the new lead detective on this case. It seemed the last detective was getting too involved. He was convinced there was a huge conspiracy and cover up between you, Mrs. Miller, and Nova, and he claimed you, sheriff, had an unhealthy investment in the situation. Now, I understand you live in a small town and everyone is into everyone else’s business, but I’d appreciate it if you keep me up to date with all interpersonal relationships involved with this case, including this pending adoption.” She tossed a folder down in front of me.
I didn’t bother opening it, I knew exactly what was inside. “Nova needed me. No one else wanted her, even the tribe. I knew Forrest wouldn’t abandon her, so I took her in.”
She nodded and slid the folder back toward herself. “Tell me about your husband, Mrs. Miller. What kind of man was he?”
I smiled as I remembered. “Forrest was a good man, as good as they come. He gave and gave and never expected anything in return. Sometimes I wondered why he loved me, but then he’d smile and I saw the man who loved me completely, faults and all. My college friends thought he was a bit ‘holier than thou’ with his anti-drinking soap box, but I understood where it came from, and I loved him more for it.”
I paused and stroked my hair. “When we got married, reality set in and we fought like cats and dogs for the first year, but never once did we talk about divorce. We knew if we were patient and stuck it through, everything would be fine. And, it was. That second year we settled into a groove and we were so happy, and near the end of it, I fell pregnant. I don’t think any man could have been prouder when he found out. He told everyone who would listen.
“Then, a few months later, he got his dream job. He was so happy. He told me over and over all his dreams were coming true; a family of his own, the perfect job, and soon we’d have a beautiful home to raise our family in. And, for a moment, everything was perfect. But, then . . . ” I trailed off and hung my head. “But, then he was gone, and no one can tell me why.”
A long silence fell as tears ran down my cheeks.
Paul’s hand rested over mine, but I pulled away to wipe my tears. I looked up at the detective. “I don’t know what else to do. I thought I was being cooperative, but then this morning my house was raided and torn apart.”
She scowled. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. He knew I was coming, so got out there before I arrived.”
“It was hard enough packing Forrest’s things away once, but to see them strewn around like that . . . my parents had to put them away again for me.”
She didn’t answer as she examined my face. But, finally, she sighed. “Mrs. Miller, what do you think happened?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe for some reason Nova came out to the town. I know her foster family wasn’t nice to her by things Forrest told me, so she may have come looking for him, got herself in trouble, and he found her and tried to help her.” I nodded, liking that scenario. It sounded like Forrest. “Yes. Yes, he’d do that.”
She tilted her head. “But, what kind of trouble? Who else would have been out there that day? It was freezing cold and it snowed during the night.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
She pressed her fingers together, never breaking her gaze from me. “Mrs. Miller, I understand that you loved your husband and believed in the same things he did, but maybe Nova is guilty of something you don’t want to think she cou
ld do. Maybe in the heat of the moment she lashed out, then panicked and tried to cover her tracks, and now feels guilty for it. She definitely feels guilty for something, I can see that even without her saying a word. I’m sorry, but this adoption is being placed on hold, indefinitely, and we are charging Nova with voluntary manslaughter.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller, I know how much you want to believe she did nothing, but . . . ” she shook her head. “She won’t talk.”
She stood and glanced at Paul. “Sheriff, do you have a moment?”
Paul nodded and followed her out.
I leaned forward, my elbows on the table, clasping my hair. Nova needed to talk. Did she have no idea what any of it meant? Was she trying to protect me? The detective tore into her, using her silence as proof of her guilt. I wanted to scream at her to talk, especially when she teared up when they showed her the photos of Forrest’s body. I just wished she’d say something, anything, the name of the person who did it would be all she’d need to utter.
Paul soon returned and sat beside me. He touched my back. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Me, either,” I whispered. “I’m no lawyer. All I know is she didn’t do it. I can feel it in my gut.”
“I have my doubts, too, but without her talking, all the evidence speaks for her and it’s pointing right at her.”
I leaned back onto his shoulder. “I just want it to be over. It’s been going on for months and I just want to let Forrest rest, to remember him and think of him as he was, not how his life ended.”
He stroked my hair. “We all do.”
I shut my eyes, enjoying the safety of his arm around me. I knew he felt pain too, and an image of him crying in secret flashed through my mind.
He shifted and looked down at me. “I’ll see if we can take Nova home. It’s been a long day.”
I nodded and straightened so he could stand. He left me, and I leaned forward, grasping at my hair. “Forrest, I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. “I wish you could tell me.” I covered my mouth as a sob wrenched itself free. I missed him so much, but I just wanted to let him go so the pain would pass. The circles and chasing tails made me crazy and my grief dragged out endlessly.
The Widow of Papina Page 14
