Harry wrinkled his brow. “Like her adoptive dad?”
“No, I think she meant her real dad. Jim, I assume.”
Dot looked puzzled. “But I thought she didn't have any memories of him.”
“She said that she doesn't, except that she sometimes has ‘weird ideas’, as she called them. Kind of like shadows, she said.”
Dot and Harry exchanged glances.
“But Jim wouldn’t have abandoned his family. I know he had his struggles, but he loved his wife and those kids.”
“He wasn’t a believer?” Aunt Dot turned her ring around on her finger.
Harry shook his head. “Not that I know of. Of course, he grew up attending Sunday school right here in Short Creek, so he knew the truth. And I talked to him many a time before they disappeared.”
Hmm. “Could something have…happened to him? And then Marianne made up the part of him leaving?”
“I’m reluctant to think it, but it’s possible.” Harry swallowed hard. “It wasn’t widely known, but Marianne had been married before she met Jim. At least twice that I knew of.”
“And Jim knew this before they got together?” Aunt Dot gripped the arm of her wheelchair.
He nodded. “He knew. But he loved her. No one could talk him out of marrying her.” He stuck his hand in his pants pocket and jingled his change. “Believe me, I tried. Not that I didn’t like her. But I thought he should wait a little longer. Get to know her better.”
“What was the deal with her previous marriages?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I believe she was widowed the first time. Then the next fella abused her. Jim probably seemed like a saint in comparison, even though he had a record.”
“Jim had a prison record?” So that’s why everyone suspected him of the robberies.
“Yes. It crushed my aunt to have her son in prison. But then you know about that.”
About having a loved one in prison, he meant. I nodded. “What was he in for? And when did he meet Marianne?”
“Armed robbery. He pled guilty.”
“But you still don’t think that he was involved in the robberies here in Short Creek.”
“No, I don’t. He was a changed man when he came out of prison, Callie. I know for a fact that he wrote a letter to his victims, apologizing to them and asking them to forgive him.”
“But if he was tempted enough—”
“No! I’ve never believed Jim robbed those houses, and I never will until someone proves it.” I’d never seen Harry so riled up. “I’d believe it of Marianne before I would suspect Jim.”
Aunt Dot gasped.
“I’ve never said that to anyone else, just so you know. I’m not one to spread rumors.”
“I know you better than that, Harry. But why would you suspect her?”
He shrugged. “I always had my doubts about her.”
“Like what?”
“It’s sort of embarrassing, but back in the day, we would have said that she had ‘sticky fingers’.”
“Harry, that’s dreadful.” Dot was dismayed.
“It’s true. We experienced it first-hand the time we hosted Truett’s graduation party at our house. After everyone left, we discovered cash missing from Mae’s drawer.”
“But how did you know it was Marianne?”
He rubbed his temples. “Because over the few years she and Jim lived here, everyone in the family had various things stolen, and the common factor was always her.”
“Wow. Didn’t Jim know she was doing it? Would she have had the capacity to…harm Jim? Like if he found out and tried to stop her or something?”
He steepled his fingers. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about that possibility over the years, but I don’t think she was violent. Just…unhappy.”
“So, if Sharlene really is Shelby…”
“It’s got to be her. She looks exactly like her mother did the day Jim first brought Marianne to meet the family. Marianne always was a pretty little gal, and so was Shelby.”
“Sharlene told Todd and me that her mother had died recently, so if Sharlene really is Shelby Janosic, then that would mean that Marianne is dead, right?” I bunched my hair into a fist to make a ponytail, then dropped it. “But why would Sharlene return to Short Creek if she doesn’t remember anything about it? Just to reconnect with her roots?” That didn’t seem likely to me.
Harry lifted his palms, then dropped them to his knees. “God sent her here?”
“I know He could but...” I had to admit that I suspected more, shall we say, ulterior motives. “She’s in a desperate place financially. Maybe she thought she'd discover some family she didn't know, and they would help her out?”
“That sounds plausible. But I say we just ask her straight out.” Harry stood. “Where did you say she's staying?”
“Todd and I paid for her to stay at a hotel for a few days since she was living in her car.”
Harry got a curious look on his face. “Living in her car? Didn’t Karen check Sharlene out before letting her take care of Erma?”
“I don't know. I asked Karen that too, and she said that she did.”
“Hmm. I would think we need to check into that more.”
I hated to bring this up, but at this point, Sharlene was still a suspect in Erma's case, no matter how much I was starting to like her. “I’m not sure you should let on to Sharlene that you might be related to her.”
“I think you're right.”
“But the poor girl. It sounds like she needs someone to love on her.” Dot frowned at both of us.
“I know, Auntie. I feel the same way, but if she's trying to pull one over on us all, we need to be cautious. I've at least learned that much from Todd. He was always telling me that I’m too trusting of folks.”
“Callie’s right, Dorrie. I want to rush over there and see what she knows, but if she's playing some kind of game, we can't get drawn into the middle of it. Especially if she's capable of murder.”
I pictured her chewed fingernails, her sad eyes. Her much-too-thin frame. Possible, but doubtful. Unless she had the “I’m sad and helpless” bit down pat. But I think that even if I was naive, I was a little more attuned to people than that. And I'd spent quite a few hours with her lately. I sighed. “I don't think she's a murderer. A little rough around the edges, for sure. But I can't imagine...”
Harry nodded. “I’d like to keep an open mind about it. I’d love to get a DNA sample from Sharlene. Do you think the police already did that?”
“I highly doubt it. To them, it was an open and shut deal. Karen asked them what it would take for them to do an autopsy. But no one will give her a straight answer. I think they’re putting her off. At least Todd says there's not been much movement on the case, as he puts it.”
Dot put her glasses on. “It’s time to pray, y'all. We can sit around here all day, yammering about what might or might not have happened and who did what. Seems to me it'd be easier to ask the One who already knows all of that. Just sayin’.”
Just sayin’? I laughed. Where had she picked that up? “You’re right, Auntie. How do I always get so wrapped up trying to solve all of these mysteries when I could go to the great Revealer of Mysteries?”
Harry stopped pacing. “How about we pray right now, and then Callie can get going on the plan that I see she has brewing in that pretty head of hers?”
He knew me too well.
“Who, me? Why would you think I had any sort of plan?”
He winked at me and held his hands out to both of us. “Father God, we humble ourselves before You right now, asking that You, who are the great all-knowing God, give us the wisdom and discernment that we lack. Show us Your will in these matters. Bring the things that are in darkness out into the light. Let the truth be revealed.”
“Yes, yes, Father,” Aunt Dot murmured.
Harry was just warming up. “Reveal what needs to be revealed, Lord. Lead Callie and Todd as they minister to Sharlene. You see all from beginnin
g to end. God, You know what I have prayed every day for almost a year, that You would find Jim and his family and bring them home to us. If this is the beginning of that, then God, I give You praise. If this is a trick of the enemy to bring more lies and hurt and deception, then I ask for that to be revealed, as well. Let the truth be made known, quickly. And God, I also ask in the name of Jesus, that the plans for Hope House would not be hindered any longer. This is Your work, Lord, and You know what needs to be done for it to go forward. I pray that any plans of the enemy to destroy this project be halted now. Right now, I say that this plan will go forward in the name of Jesus.”
“Amen. Thank you, Jesus.” Whenever Harry prayed, I felt revved up in my spirit. Ready to take on the world. “I’m going to keep praying about this, and I'll talk to Todd tonight about my ideas.”
“Can you give us a clue?”
“Nope. The bread has not risen yet, as Uncle Garth used to say.” I bent to hug Aunt Dot. “Keep praying. And dig through those boxes a bit more, you two. See if you can find more pictures of the whole family. I need at least one of Marianne and more of Sharlene and Jim. Maybe a few close-ups. And maybe one or two of their house.” A thought struck me. “And C. Willikers, since that used to be their dry-cleaning shop. Maybe something will jog Sharlene's memory, if she's really telling the truth and can't remember anything.”
Chapter Twenty
I stopped by Kenny’s room on my way through the hall and tapped the door. “Kenny, it’s Callie Erikson, Dorrie’s granddaughter. May I come in?”
He grunted something that I took as a “yes.”
He was sitting in the chair by the sunny window, a newspaper in his lap. He started when he saw me. “Maple! They tol’ me you were dead.”
Oh dear. I stooped down and grasped his hand. It was like ice. “It’s me, Kenny. Callie.”
He lifted his other hand to my face and held my cheek in a shaking hand. “I knew you weren’t dead, Maple. I’ve been waiting and waiting to talk to you.” He dropped his hand. “Why did you wait so long to come?”
My throat tightened. If only Maple had come. Why hadn’t she? But I couldn’t pretend that I was his long-separated daughter. I gently disengaged my hand and stood. “Mr. Carner, I’m so sorry that you’re missing your daughter. I’m sure she—”
“Don’t go, Maple.” His face crumpled. “I’ve been waiting so long, and now I’m a washed-up old codger headin’ toward the grave. I wasn’t the kind of father to you I should have been. I know I wasn’t.” Kenny wept, the tears making wet tracks through his grizzled whiskers. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
Lord?
I pulled a chair closer and took his cold hand again, holding it between my warm ones. If he could express his apology to his daughter—or who he thought was his daughter—maybe he’d gain some peace. “I don’t know what to say.”
He swung his head slowly, reminding me of an ancient tortoise I’d seen at the zoo. “I never meant for things to happen the way they did.” His hand trembled in mine. “You have to believe your old papa.”
“I believe you.”
He leaned back and sighed, closing his eyes. “I know it’s too late for us, Maple. I should have talked to all y’all straight out years ago.”
I wondered to whom “all y’all” referred. Did Maple have siblings? I’d have to ask Aunt Dot.
I pressed his hand again. “But at least you’re talking to me now. Did you want to tell me something specific?” I squirmed a little at my own question, feeling like I was pumping him for information.
He was silent for so long, I thought he might have fallen asleep, except that I could see his mouth working. Almost like he was wrestling within himself to dislodge the words from his throat.
I waited, praying.
He opened his eyes and sat up straighter. He pulled his hand from mine and gripped the arms of the chair. “It’s all because of June Blackman. Criminy, how I hate that woman.”
I gulped. “I know she’s been in here bothering y—”
“Bothering! Bothering?” Saliva dripped out of the corner of his mouth. “She ruined my life. And I went along with it. My business. My marriage…” The fire went out as quickly as it had ignited. He ran a shaking hand over his eyes. “If only I hadn’t listened to her.”
“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You know all of that stuff that I blamed on your mother?”
I nodded.
“She wasn’t involved in any of that. Not the land. Not the bankruptcy. None of it. She would never have hurt a flea.” He jammed his hand in the pocket of his plaid shirt and pulled out a crumpled handkerchief. “She was the sweetest thing, your mama was.”
“You must have loved her, at least in the beginning.” I was going out on a limb here, but his self-recriminations didn’t seem to be abating. Maybe if he got it all out, he’d feel better.
He blew his nose. “I never stopped loving her. But in the end, I destroyed her. And you.”
I didn’t really want to hear this story. Too much private pain that didn’t need to be aired to a stranger, even if he thought I was his daughter. I drew a deep breath. “God will forgive you if you ask Him to.”
He wagged his head again. “That’s what Dorrie keeps tellin’ me. But what I done is too bad. He’s turned His back on me.”
“No.” I knelt to look him in the eye. If I got anything across to this man today, it had to be this. “The Bible says that whoever comes to Him, He will not cast away. Jesus already paid for you to have forgiveness.”
“That’s too easy. I gotta make it up to Him and I ain’t got enough time left. Spent all of it muckin’ things up.”
A sense of urgency caused me to push a little more than I might have. This man could pass away any day. Who knew when one’s time was up?
“Please, listen to me. God’s word says that it is his kindness that leads us to repentance. Not his anger. Not his rules. Not his punishment.” My cheeks burned. “His kindness, Papa,” I whispered.
His eyes fastened on my face. “I ain’t worth nobody’s kindness. When a man’s done what I done—” He coughed and held the handkerchief to his mouth. He coughed again, harder this time.
He was getting too worked up. The nurse would have my head if she came in here and saw him so upset. At least the door was partly closed.
“Here, let me grab your water.” I held the straw for him to sip from the plastic cup. “Is that better?”
He nodded his thanks. “Are you goin’ now, Maple? Seems so long since we talked. Do you still love your old papa?”
I reached down to hug him. “Yes, I love you. And I forgive you, Papa.”
“You’ve always been such a good girl.” He clung to my neck, my long hair sticking to the moisture on his cheeks. “Come again tomorrow. I need to tell you what happened.” His voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t, I promise. Weren’t Jim’s, neither. But I still shoulda told. I shoulda told someone. I knew I was running out of time, but I didn’t think they’d get her.”
Her, who? Was he losing his grip on reality? “Who got who, Papa?”
Kenny continued to mumble as I disentangled myself and glanced toward the door, certain I had heard someone enter. No one. Maybe a nurse had poked her head in and decided to return later.
“I’ll come again.” I squeezed his hand one more time. “Talk to God, okay, Papa?”
He shook his head. “He don’t want to hear what I got to say. I’m not goin’ to be one of them snivelin’ brats. I done what I done, and I’ll take my punishment for it.”
My heart broke. “Papa—”
“That’s enough, Maple. Come see me tomorrow, like a good girl. I’ll tell you the whole story.”
I trudged out of his room. Why did some people fight so hard against the very thing that would set them free?
My phone rang at five the next morning, and my hear
t sank when I saw Aunt Dot’s phone number. Somehow, I knew.
I answered. “It’s Kenny, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He’s pretty bad off.” I heard her draw a quivering sigh. “Just like that, Callie. Yesterday, his cough seemed worse, but…we never know, do we?”
“What happened?”
“Well, they don’t tell us much. But the nurse said he was declining rapidly, and no one is allowed to visit him right now except for family.”
“But he doesn’t have family, does he?” I sat up against my pillows. “I stopped by to talk to him yesterday after I left your room.”
“Oh? How did he seem then?”
“He thought I was Maple. He held my hand and apologized for being a terrible father.”
“Oh, my.” She sniffled. “I talked to him about his soul many a time lately. It’s so hard not knowing if he ever truly believed in Jesus.”
I pulled my comforter up around my neck. “I talked to him yesterday about that.”
“Oh, thank God. I was hoping maybe he’d have another chance to hear.”
“Yes, but he didn’t seem very receptive.” The cardinals chirped outside my bedroom window in the darkness of the pre-dawn, but the pugs’ snores still rumbled through the room. “He said he’d done dreadful things and God couldn’t forgive him. He asked me to come back, so he could tell me the whole story. He said—”
He said, “It weren’t Jim’s fault, neither.”
Wait a minute. I sat up straight. “Auntie. Did Kenny and Jim Janosic know each other?”
“Everybody knew everybody back then, darlin’. Why?”
“I just remembered that Kenny said something about someone named Jim. Do you think it could be Jim Janosic?”
“Maybe.” She sucked in her breath. “But we’ll probably never know. I surely hope he cried out to God before it was too late.”
“So they think he’s not going to make it?”
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
Well, I had my work cut out for me, then. Good thing I had closed the shop for the morning. It was my day off. “I’ll see you tonight for Harry’s party.”
Where There's a Will Page 14