A Texas Family

by Linda Warren

“Now there’s a thought.”

  That was a blow to Carson’s heart. Somewhere in the back of his mind the thought lurked like a traitor about to pounce. There was no doubt in Carson’s mind that Asa loved his boys, but something had gone very wrong the night Jared had died. Secrets, lies and confusion mingled inside him like a virus, making him feel weak and unsure of what to believe and what to expect next.

  “This is all hard to grasp,” she said. “Take the next turn to the right.”

  “Why?”

  “The dirt road meanders around to Willow Creek where Willie Bass lives. Maybe he can tell us more about that night.”

  “When Willie sees the constable’s car, he’ll hide or run.”

  “Are you afraid of what he might say?”

  He glanced at her and saw the gleam in her eyes. “Okay.” He made the turn. “You’re taking this very well.”

  “I’ve had years to prepare myself. I came home to find my child, but I have so many unresolved feelings about that night, and it’s time to get it all out into the open. To find answers. To know the truth. And maybe if we’re lucky, it will lead us to what I need to know.”

  Carson didn’t respond, just drove on down the road, dust boiling around his freshly washed white car. But he wondered if he wanted to know the truth. The fact that his father took Jena’s baby without any qualms was still reeling in his mind. How much more did he want to know? Asa was his father and he was still holding on to his last hope that there was some goodness in him. There had to be or the world just wouldn’t make sense anymore. But even facing pain or disillusionment, he was seeing this through to the end. He had to for his own peace of mind.

  * * *

  CARSON TURNED DOWN a dirt track that led to Willie’s place. Jena and Hilary had come here with their dad when they were little. The place still looked the same—a run-down, weather-worn shack with a trail in the grass that led to the front door. Gallon jugs and jars were stacked high in the grass. A rusted barrel overflowed with trash.

  But beyond the shack was a beautiful scene. Large live oaks and willows shaded the flowing creek. Serene, quiet, private—the way Willie liked it, away from the prying eyes of the community.

  “His truck’s not here, so that means Willie isn’t, either,” Carson said. “What do you want to do?”

  She undid her seat belt, got out and strolled to the water’s edge.

  “Where are you going?” Carson called, following her.

  She sat in the grass and watched the easy rhythm of the water. It calmed her with its serenity. It boosted her courage with its power. And gave her a sense of reality in this unreal day.

  He sank down by her. “Nice, huh?”

  “It’s good to see it flowing. Hilary said it had almost dried up due to the drought.”

  “Everyone was happy to see the rain again.” Carson looked over his shoulder. “Willie may not be back for a while.”

  “It’s a beautiful day. Can we wait?”

  Carson glanced at his watch. “Sure.”

  “In Dallas I don’t get to see things like this.”

  “Do you like living there?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.” She raised her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs. “But I got used to city life.”

  Carson plucked at the grass. “You and Jared met in school?”

  “Of course. We were in the same class.”

  “I was in Afghanistan during Jared’s high school years. When did you start dating?”

  She looked at his face but didn’t see any derision, only curiosity. “I had classes with Jared, but we didn’t move in the same circles. Then one day there was a bad thunderstorm with heavy rain, and Hilary and I were walking home. He stopped and gave us a ride.”

  “He was nice like that.”

  “Yeah.” She rested her chin on her knees. “After that, he would look for me to offer a ride home. I would refuse. Then one day it was raining again and I accepted the ride. But I told him that was it.”

  “Why?”

  She watched a leaf float by. “Because the boys usually only wanted one thing from me and I wasn’t willing to do that.”

  “But Jared was different?”

  “Yes. He was having trouble in English, and he said if I would help him, he would give me a ride home without any strings. Just friendship.”

  “But it turned into something more?”

  She kept her eyes on the water, hardly believing she was sharing her thoughts about Jared. With his brother. But it seemed natural and comfortable.

  “Not for a long time. After a football game, we kissed for the first time. It was nice, and I thought maybe we could be a couple.” The water lapped against the bank and she was mesmerized by it. “Then one day in school I heard Jared’s friends teasing him about me being easy and I refused to see him anymore.”

  “But that wasn’t the end of it?”

  “No. He was very upset I had overheard and said his friends were idiots. I still wouldn’t give in. Then he started following me home in his truck, day after day, until I finally caved. We studied together but didn’t date. We were friends, very good friends.”

  “But things changed?”

  She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “Why do you need to know about Jared and me?”

  Carson leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his long legs. His white shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. She forced herself not to look away. She wasn’t a naïve girl seeing a handsome man for the first time. But, oh, it felt like it.

  “I’m curious about my brother’s relationship with you—how it started and how it ended.”

  Her eyes held his. “You know how it ended.”

  “I’m not judging you, Jena.”

  At the warmth in his voice she felt a weakening in the defenses she’d built around her heart.

  “You said you were friends, so something had to have changed,” he persisted.

  She thought for a moment and saw no harm in telling him. And for some reason she had a need to hear the words said out loud. Or maybe she needed to see his reaction.

  “Everyone knew my dad beat my mother, but no one ever tried to stop it. One night he was in a rage. I hid Hilary under the bed and tried to help my mom. But he was much stronger than the both of us. It was a terrible scene. My face was badly bruised, and I didn’t go to school the next day. Later, Jared came looking for me and he was shocked at my face. We drove to the bridge over Willow Creek and sat there for a long time. He said no one was ever going to hurt me again. He wanted us to run away, but I told him that was crazy. I couldn’t leave my mom and my sister. He started kissing me and one thing led to another. We had sex for the first time—and the only time.”

  “What?”

  She saw the disbelief on his face. “It’s true. I was upset and he was upset that he’d done something I didn’t want to do. I could have stopped, but I didn’t. I needed to feel close to someone. I told him it was okay. We huddled together like two lost souls, and it was just our bad luck that I got pregnant. Eventually, we accepted it and made plans. It wasn’t what we wanted, but we figured it was a way out for us. We would start a new life together—for our child.”

  Carson sat up. “That’s different from what I’d imagined.”

  “It’s different than everyone imagined, especially your father. Just because I was poor and the daughter of a drunk, it didn’t make me a slut.”

  Nothing was said for some time. “I get the feeling that Jared was deeply in love with you, but you considered him just a friend.”

  She moved her legs and sat cross-legged. “I didn’t know what love was then and neither did Jared. As I said, we just needed each other.” She ran her hand along the denim of her thigh, admitting a deep-seated truth. “If I had remained s
trong, and refused to see Jared, none of the bad stuff would have happened. So you see, your father is right. I really am to blame for Jared’s death.”

  “Jena...” He scooted closer and put his arm around her. The world stopped turning as warm, real emotions engulfed her. A heady masculine scent excited her and she wanted to lean into him, feel his strength, his comfort. But she immediately rejected the urge.

  Pulling away, she said, “Please don’t do that.”

  “Jena...”

  “No. Don’t try to console me. Don’t try to make things better. The time for that has long passed. Let’s just do what we started out to do—sort through the evidence. Anything other than that is out of the question.”

  He looked at her with eyes that said she wasn’t fooling him. That almost tangible attraction between them was growing. He knew it. She knew it. She just didn’t know how to stop it. And the sad part was she didn’t know if she wanted to.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE PUT-PUT OF a truck echoed through the trees. “Willie’s here,” Carson said and got to his feet.

  Jena stood and brushed grass from her jeans. Carson wanted to say so many things, but the right words were lost in the stunning information she’d just shared. Two young kids brought together by the cruel actions of their fathers. He had misjudged Jena on so many levels, and he had to make that right in some way. That would come later. Now they had to face Willie.

  Willie’s truck rattled into the yard. Surprisingly, he got out, doing exactly the opposite of what Carson thought he would do. In worn overalls and a dirty Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, Willie squinted at them. He was short and thin with leathery wrinkles that marked his advanced years.

  They strolled to meet him.

  “I gave up making moonshine, Constable, so there ain’t no need for you to come out here.”

  Carson knew that was a lie, but he wasn’t interested in Willie’s illegal activities. Putting Willie in jail served no purpose other than to clutter the courts with frivolous arrests. People who bought the illegal moonshine usually drank at home and didn’t hurt anyone other than themselves.

  Willie stared at Jena. “You’re Lamar’s girl.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’m Jena.”

  “You’ve grown up.”

  “Yes.”

  “What y’all doing out here?”

  Jena stepped forward. “I’d like to talk to you about the night Jared Corbett was killed.”

  Willie’s tired brown eyes narrowed. “I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout that.”

  “But you said you were drinking with my father that night.”

  “Ah.” Willie waved his hand. “That was drunk talk.”

  “Are you sure? Or did someone change your mind?”

  Willie frowned. “Like who?”

  “Asa Corbett.”

  Willie removed his dirty hat and scratched his head. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because my dad’s shotgun was at the scene and Asa wanted him to pay.”

  “Now, girl, let’s just let that old hound dog sleep. There ain’t no need to mess with the past.”

  “But, Willie—” Jena moved closer to him, and Willie didn’t take his eyes off of her “—if my father was with you, he couldn’t have shot Jared. That means someone else did. Just tell me the truth. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Willie shoved his hands into the pockets of his overalls, giving it some thought.

  “My father can’t hurt you now.” Carson wanted him to know that just in case it might help him to make up his mind.

  “Ol’ Asa’s in a hell of his own,” Willie mused. “But I’m not afraid of Mr. Asa.”

  “Who, then?” Jena asked.

  “Lamar was a friend of mine. We spent many a night drinking down at the creek. He was real happy his daughter was going to have a better life than he’d ever given her. He’d drink himself into a stupor talking about it.”

  “Did he that night?” Jena pressed, her voice anxious, but Carson could see she was keeping her emotions in check.

  “Yeah,” Willie finally admitted. “Woke up about five-thirty that morning and went home. It was the last I saw him.”

  “Why did you alter your story?” Jena kept on. “If my dad was with you, he was innocent.”

  “That’s why I went into town as soon as I heard. I told Bernie everything.”

  “Who made you change your mind?” Carson asked.

  “I got a visit from Roland, and he said if I didn’t want to be the next one in the ground, I better come up with another story quick.”

  “Did he mention my father’s name?”

  Willie shook his head. “I didn’t ask no questions. Roland’s mean and I didn’t want no part of him. Besides, Lamar was dead and I couldn’t help him.”

  “How did my father’s shotgun get to the scene?” Jena wanted to know.

  “I don’t know nuthin’ about the shotgun,” Willie replied. “But Lamar was with me from about three that afternoon.”

  “Could you have fallen asleep and Lamar left for a little while?” Carson asked.

  “Nah. I was making moonshine and I was as wide-awake as a hoot owl. Lamar never left. He sat drinking, watching me.”

  Carson held out his hand. “Thank you, Willie. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “Don’t know how it can help now.”

  “More than you think.”

  Jena also shook his hand. “Please accept my thanks, too. It’s good to know my father was not a killer.”

  “Not ol’ Lamar. He just liked to drink.”

  “A little too much.”

  “Yeah. That’s the nature of the devil.”

  They walked to the car and got in. Driving away, he said, “With just a little more investigating, the sheriff could have found all this out years ago.”

  “But no one would go against your father.”

  “Mmm. Now I’m wondering what else he’s hiding.”

  She didn’t reply and she knew as well as he did that none of this was leading them to her child. Just more lies and secrets to add to the mix. Where would it end?

  * * *

  JENA SAT IN a daze. Her father wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. A gigantic scar eased from her soul. So many years she thought of her father as a heartless, despicable person who had killed someone she’d loved. And it was all lies. She felt numb inside. Now she really wanted to find out who had killed Jared. Who had made her father into a murderer?

  She glanced at Carson. “What’s our next move?”

  “We really don’t have a lot, just hearsay. Willie’s admission doesn’t change much. We don’t have concrete evidence to put Lamar at Willie’s—just Willie’s word, which at this stage is not reliable since he’s changed it more than once.”

  “I believe him.”

  “I do, too, but we need more.”

  She sighed. “How do we do that?”

  Carson turned onto the highway from the dirt road. “First, I plan to talk to Pa again. Then I’m finding a way to get into Jared’s room.”

  “Why do you have to find a way? Can’t you just open the door?”

  “After Jared died, Pa locked it up. He’s maniacal about anyone disturbing Jared’s things. When I came home for good, the cases were closed, so I humored him and left the room alone.

  “Four months later, Bernie retired and I was elected constable. I had no reason to dig into the cases. It was over for me and my family. But there might be something in the room to tie all this together.”

  “But will it lead us to my child?”

  “Hopefully. Roland and Curly are in the middle of everything that was going on. Roland is still in prison, but Curly is out. I might try to track him down. He was there at the house the nigh
t the baby was born. I’d like to get his side of the story.”

  “When you go, I want to go with you. I’d love to kick him where it hurts.”

  He grinned. “You got it. My kids get out of school tomorrow for the summer, so... Damn.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t realize it was so late. I have to pick up my kids from school.”

  “Just drop me at your office.”

  “The school is up ahead and I don’t want them to wait.”

  “But...” She didn’t really want to meet his children or be seen with him and give the town more fodder for gossip. Then again, what did she care? She wasn’t eighteen anymore. Her nerves were rock solid, her demeanor cool, her attitude kick-ass tough, so she had nothing to fear. Except that one reminder about her crappy childhood from ill-mannered townsfolk could shatter her well-earned confidence. But not unless she let them. And it wasn’t going to be today.

  The school was up ahead on Willow Creek Drive, about a half a mile from the railroad tracks and her house. A wealth of emotions swamped her as she saw the large buildings with the white stone fronts. Since the town was small, the elementary, junior high and high school were here, just in separate buildings. A gym and a football field were to the right.

  After school, she would hurry and find Hilary, and they would walk through the woods to the tracks and home, even on the coldest days. They had one vehicle and her father was usually off somewhere in it. On cold mornings he might take them to school, but they had to make their own way home.

  All the debilitating memories of hand-me-down clothes, welfare checks, food stamps seemed to choke her and she had trouble breathing. But she and Hilary had survived and that was good. They were both strong women because of their upbringing.

  Buses waited in line for the children and soon they came pouring out the front doors. She and Hilary could have ridden the bus, but it meant getting home an hour later—their house was almost the last stop. They preferred the short walk.

  Carson got out and shook hands with several people. He waved to the throng of chattering kids and two of them came running, a little girl and a boy she’d seen in the photo on his desk.

  As she watched, Carson hugged both of the kids and they walked toward the car. The girl and the boy crawled into the backseat. Carson buckled the little girl in and took the driver’s seat.