“Okay, darlin’. Have you talked to your mom?”
“No.” But I had ignored her calls and texts a couple of times recently. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to her, exactly. But there was so much other stuff going on and…I stood up to pace the bedroom.
Aunt Dot let the silence stretch longer than I would have liked. “She asked me if you were okay. You shouldn’t worry her like that, Callie.”
The tone of my aunt’s voice took me back to the time when I was six years old and she caught me lying about my brother. I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll get in touch with her, I promise.”
“Good. Oh, and one more thing. Seems some of the jewelry that was stolen from that store in Temple all that time ago has been recovered.”
“What? The robbery that happened right before Jim and Marianne left?”
“Uh huh. Read it in the newspaper this morning. A few pieces of the jewelry showed up at a pawn store in Austin recently.”
“Wow.” What did that mean to this whole scenario? Had someone let their guard down?
I would have to pray about the significance of the jewelry news, but first, I had to pray for Kenny. I felt so strongly about it, that I drove over to Willowbough to be physically near him. I paused outside his closed door, listening. Was he still alive?
Come on, Kenny. Father, You are so merciful. I pray that You will not let this man die until he is ready to meet You. Please give me another chance to talk to him not only about You, but about these things that will affect so many people’s lives.
Somehow, I had a feeling that Kenny’s story would help me pull all of the fragments together. The bits and pieces had been floating around in my brain for the last few weeks, but no matter how hard I tried to put them together, they wouldn’t fit. Sister Erma’s death. Sharlene. June. June’s husband. Karen. Like when I was younger and tried to “help” Uncle Garth with a jigsaw puzzle, I didn’t want to keep jamming the same old pieces into the spots where it appeared they should fit. I wanted to see the whole picture, now. Now, before anyone else lost his or her life.
A great hacking cough arose from behind the door.
Thank God, he was still alive. I laid my palm flat on the door and prayed.
I texted Todd as I walked down the hall, hoping he could meet me for lunch at the coffee shop in Temple. I needed to get out of my ordinary routine and have time to think.
I pushed through the double glass doors of the retirement home, the early March wind cooling my cheeks after being inside the overwarm building. Almost Easter. Maybe we could have this solved and taken care of by then. But if not, at least I’d have chocolate again. Though I had to admit, it had been good for me to purposely deny what my flesh wanted and consciously seek God with more fervor during this season of Lent. I felt stronger in my spirit and more sensitive to the Holy Spirit’s leading.
My phone dinged, and my cheeks warmed again as I read Todd’s text.
Hey, beautiful lady. I’ll see you there in half an hour.
I could get used to this. I texted back a red heart, then slid into my van before texting Mona.
Praying for you today. See you tonight! She was supposed to hear the results of the last round of tests on Monday, and I knew she was sweating it.
I drove to the coffee shop and slung my laptop case over my shoulder. It was time to do some serious digging.
A few minutes later, I jumped as Todd slid up next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Good thing I wasn’t a bad guy,” he whispered in my ear. He pressed a light, whiskery kiss on my cheek.
“Mmm, you smell good.” I leaned into his chest, inhaling the smell of cinnamon gum and aftershave.
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You wouldn’t have said that half an hour ago. I was mucking out the stalls when you texted.”
I wrinkled my nose. I loved Todd’s horses, but I wasn’t especially fond of some of the barn smells. “Thanks for coming.”
He tugged on my ponytail. “I can muck stalls any day. What’s up?”
“Hmm?” I pulled my attention back from Todd-induced lala-land, and he grinned at me.
I gestured toward my open laptop. “I have an idea.”
“Uh oh.” He sipped his drink. “And you need help from your favorite law enforcement officer?”
“Something like that. Are you having an iced drink?” I shivered, cupping my hands around my steaming cup.
“Always. You know that.” He swirled his straw around in the chocolate-caramel-coffee-ice sludge. “Have you solved Erma’s case, Nancy?”
“Maybe.” I raised my eyebrows. “But I need Ned’s help.”
He gave me a salute. “Ned Nickerson at your service, milady.”
Be still, my heart.
I cleared my throat. “I’ve done a little preliminary research over the last few weeks, but I need more. And you know how last night, I thought maybe Sharlene was a Janosic?”
He nodded.
“Yesterday, Dot and I were digging through old pictures, and we found one of Jim with a bunch of kids. We showed it to Harry, and he said that the little girl in the picture was Jim’s daughter, Shelby.”
Todd whistled. “Does he think Sharlene is Shelby? His cousin twice removed or something like that?”
“Yeah. He said that’s why he was so rattled when he saw Sharlene in my shop the other day. That she looked so much like her mother that he couldn’t get over it, but he thought it was probably just him. I already searched Sharlene’s name but couldn’t find a connection to any Janosics. I had already assumed that Jim and Marianne had changed their names when they left here, but Sharlene must not have had any knowledge of that.”
“Wow. Did you tell her?”
“No, not yet. That’s partly why I wanted to do a little more digging this afternoon. Did you bring your laptop?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay. I made a document and shared it with you, so we can both see what the other has come up with. I need you to find anything you can on June Blackman and her husband. Everything. Even stuff we think we know.”
“I thought we were researching Sharlene.”
“We are. While you’re doing that, I’m going to research the Janosic story.”
Todd raised his eyebrows. “You think June's connected to that?”
“I don't know. I feel like all of the pieces of this are interrelated somehow. June is connected to Kenny, and now it seems that Kenny is connected to Jim somehow, if it’s the same Jim. That's what I'm hoping to find out.”
My first line of research would have to be the local newspaper. Mona and Harry had both said the Janosic family disappearance was in the news for weeks. And one of them had mentioned something about home robberies, and that might be the motivation for Jim leaving town. Should I start first with the leaving of the Janosics? The theft? Or Jim, himself? I had already tried running a search on Sharlene but didn’t come up with much except for her police record in Dallas County. At least she’d been honest about not having been in jail before.
I settled on searching for Jim's name. Janosic shouldn't be that common of a last name, but it appeared that it was. I scrolled a huge list. “Should I pay to dig up information on Jim?”
Todd raised his head. “You mean like one of those online search deals where you pay twenty bucks to find out people's addresses?”
I nodded.
“Nah, everybody knows where he lived. And he was well-researched by both the news media and the detectives when the story broke. You can be sure of that.”
“Hmm. So maybe I should read the newspaper articles first? I suppose you can’t give me info from the police reports?”
He frowned. “I’ll have to take a look at it. Some of it is public record by now, but if not, I can't legally give you what's in there if it's still blocked to the public.”
“I’ll keep looking.” I sipped my lukewarm latte and tried a new tack. “Maybe I should search for Jim outside of Texas too. Do you know how lo
ng he and Marianne lived here in Short Creek before they disappeared?”
“Not sure. Maybe three years?”
“Okay, then I’ll check other states.” I rubbed my finger over the mouse pad, making my cursor fly wildly over my screen.
“Try this site. It's one the police use often, but civilians can use it too.” He scribbled it down on a napkin.
I typed it in, then typed in Jim's name and groaned. “How can there be so many James Janosics?”
“No middle name?”
I shrugged. “Maybe Harry knows. I'll text Aunt Dot and see if he's there with her by chance.”
“Dot texts?”
“She does now, she says.” I texted her, then laid my phone down. “I suppose I can narrow the search down to the ones who have a birth and a death date.”
Todd stared at me. “Do you think Jim is dead?”
I had a gut feeling that he was. But why?
I guess I had started to think of him in those terms because of the postcard being addressed only to Marianne, but maybe not. I shrugged. “I don't know. I know Harry already dug around in the last few years, but he’s always reached a dead end. I hope, for Harry's sake, that he's still alive.”
“Yeah. I hope so too. It was a sad thing all around. I still think about that case sometimes. I was only a kid when it happened, but I remember hearing my parents talk about it. It always seemed so strange to think about someone we knew up and disappeared, like something out of a movie.”
“Wait. You knew them too?”
“I didn't. I was probably in seventh or eighth grade when it happened, but the Janosic kids were little. Like maybe preschool and kindergarten or something like that? The school was in a big uproar of course, with everyone talking about it, but I didn't know the family personally.”
“Did your parents?”
He shrugged. “My mom might have, since she volunteered all over town and knew everyone. My dad, probably not.”
Todd's mom had died of breast cancer several years back, so I had never met her. I sucked in my breath. “Here’s a James Janosic in Illinois. Did prison time for armed robbery. That would match up with what Harry said.”
Todd glanced up. “Right time frame?”
I scrolled down. “Maybe.”
“You can't jump to conclusions, Callie. They will come back to bite you every time. I learned that the hard way early on.”
“Here, take a look.” I turned my screen toward him.
He gave a low whistle. “If that’s him, it doesn’t match the mild-mannered version of the man I remember.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know him.”
“I don’t. But I remember what he looked like. And I remember them coming to our church every once in a while.”
I gaped at him. “The Janosics attended Short Creek Community Church?”
“Here and there. I particularly remember them being at a Christmas Eve service.”
“And no one thought to tell me this before.”
“You’ve had a few things on your plate, Callie. Plus, every lead was thoroughly investigated at the time. It’s been a cold case for years now.”
“True. But still.” I pushed my glasses up further on my nose, thinking. “So, people at church would remember Jim. Especially the older folks who’d attended for years. People like—” I got a sick feeling in my stomach. “People like Erma's age.”
He nodded. “Yes. But again, you can't jump to conclusions. I know what you're thinking. But it's not very likely that Jim Janosic, whom no one has seen or heard from for more than two decades, snuck back to Short Creek to murder Erma.”
“But what if?” I mean, really. What if this was the key to everything? “What if he killed Erma’s husband all those years ago, and then he came back to finish up the deal? And that’s why he stole her journal.”
He rubbed his hand down his cheek. “I have seen stranger things, so it’s not totally out in left field. Except that I’m pretty sure Erma’s husband passed away from something legitimate. I remember my parents visiting him in the hospital. He was in there for a long time before he finally passed. If foul play was suspected, it would have come out right away.” He rolled his shoulders. “It’s okay to ask ‘what if’, but you have to have a whole boatload more information to even begin to convince the sheriff’s office to start looking into it again.”
“But if no one asks ‘what if’, then how is this whole mess going to be solved?”
He smiled at me. “I hear you. But you don't want to cause more hurt than what’s already been caused by all of this. Just be gentle if you decide to talk to any of the folks at church, okay? In the meantime, did you know that June’s husband has written some books since he sold his veterinary practice a few years ago?”
“Yes, I knew that. He made sure to tell me one day when he visited C. Willikers. But I never heard what he writes. Is he published?”
Todd consulted his screen. “Self-published. Some pretty dark stuff, looks like. Murder at Horsetooth Ridge. The Anger of the Spirit Gods. Possession of Evil Intent.”
“Ack. Those are his titles?”
“Yeah, and there's more.”
I thought of the pudgy, red-faced Mr. Blackman who I had privately dubbed “Porky.” “I can’t picture him as someone who would write horror. He seems more like the type to write about caring for poodles or fixing one’s computer.”
Todd laughed. “I know what you mean.”
“Can you imagine thinking up terrible, evil plots like that all day? It would give me nightmares.”
Todd grimaced. “Not exactly light reading.” He clicked onto another page. “On a happier note, neither he nor June have a police record, if that’s what you were looking for.”
“Not necessarily. I’m trying to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. Kenny hates her for a reason, and said she ruined his life. Do you know anything about that?”
My phone dinged.
“Would you see who’s texting me? Hopefully it’s Aunt Dot with some info about Jim and Kenny.”
Todd picked my phone up and snickered. “It is Dot, but she needs a little work on her texting skills. Unless she’s messaging you in secret code.”
I wrinkled my brow, holding my hand out for the phone. I stared at the screen. The message read Flmx9m v44y tcloop. “What in the world?”
I called her. “Hi, Auntie. I just got your text. Good job…yes, I am very proud of you…yes…except that I couldn’t read it.”
I listened and nodded some more, then grinned at Todd. He was going to roll when I told him what she said. “And Jim and Kenny? Oh, I see… Really.”
“Tell her that Luke can come to the party tonight,” Todd whispered.
“Okay, Auntie. Keep me updated on Kenny. Love you too. Oh, and Luke is coming tonight. We’ll see you then.”
I put the phone down. “She said she misplaced her glasses, so she texted random letters so I would know she received my text.”
Todd chuckled. “I was a little worried for a second.”
“She’s a character, for sure. I never quite know what she’s going to come up with next.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Which is exactly why I wasn’t in the least surprised to see her new hairdo when we arrived for the party, pugs in tow. She had insisted that we bring the dogs to the big event. We were the first to arrive, so I deposited Intarsia in her lap and gave my aunt a light hug. “A new style for the party?”
“What do you think?” She turned her head this way and that, so I could get the full effect of her sleek new cut.
I was used to her silvery hair flowing back from her brow in a long elegant bob. Not many women her age could carry off the style, but Aunt Dot wasn’t your average woman. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with bangs, Auntie. I like it.”
Todd bent to kiss her cheek. “Has Harry seen it?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Not yet. Come here, darlin’.” She motioned to Luke, who hung back behind his dad. “It’s been t
oo long since I’ve seen this boy, Todd. You need to bring him by more often.”
Luke succumbed to Aunt Dot’s hug in awkward teenage fashion. “It’s nice to see you too, ma’am. Where’s Mr. Parsons? I thought it was his party.”
“It’s a surprise.” Aunt Dot beamed at him. “Harry thinks we’re just having a regular old Friday night dinner together. I told him I’d make him meatloaf.”
“That would be a surprise,” I murmured to Todd. Aunt Dot was a whiz at some things, but she wasn’t known for her cooking abilities.
He chuckled, smothering it quickly with a cough as Aunt Dot turned to look at him. “What can we do to help, Dot? Looks like you’re pretty much set up here.”
That was an understatement. Aunt Dot had outdone herself with photos and memorabilia of Harry’s life. Of course, I guess turning eighty-three is a pretty big deal. “I love the photo table. You found so many good pictures! Oh, look at this one.” I held the framed photo up for Todd to see. “This must have been when he was coaching basketball at the high school.”
Todd peered at it over my shoulder, his chest pressing against my back. “I didn’t know he was a coach.”
“Oh, my, yes. Garth and I attended quite a few of the games over the years. Harry was the winningest coach in the high school history.” Aunt Dot picked up another photo. “This one is my favorite.”
I studied the black and white picture of a young Harry posing in front of a car, trying to ignore Todd’s nearness as he slipped his arms around my waist. Was he trying to fluster me? If so, it was working. I was trying to have a coherent conversation with my aunt. Instead, I wanted to turn around and let him kiss me.
I leaned back slightly into Todd’s embrace. “Was this Harry’s first car? What is that building behind him?” It looked familiar.
“Don’t you recognize it, Callie? That’s your store.”
C. Willikers? I squinted at the picture again, making out the limestone bricks and the edge of what must have been a wooden porch. “That’s so cool. How did you know it was my store?”
She leaned back in her wheelchair, her gaze suddenly faraway. She fingered one of Intarsia’s black ears. “I took that picture.”
Where There's a Will Page 15