Widow's Secrets

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Somehow, that long look had turned into a spur-of-the-moment shopping spree at a fancy department store over in Cincinnati, which had some kind of in-store photographer. Somehow, she’d agreed to let him take her picture after she’d put on one of her new outfits and spent an hour and two hundred dollars getting refreshed at the makeup counter.

  The photos had been silly and fun. She’d laughingly texted a couple to Jeanie, who had been complimentary and sweet.

  It was too bad Liana hadn’t imagined that Jeanie wouldn’t erase the photos, but would instead forward one on to Wes.

  “You shouldn’t have shared that picture of me.”

  “I don’t see why not. You looked pretty.”

  “I looked pretty different.” And not in a good way—she’d looked exactly like she’d been. A country girl in a fancy store trying to make herself into something she wasn’t.

  But her sister-in-law still wasn’t getting the point. “Oh, who cares if you got older. You should still let me set y’all up. You can go out to lunch at Jay’s Coffee. He’s starting to serve sandwiches there now. They’re real good, too.”

  “I know about the sandwiches.” Kent had eaten one right across the table from her. “But no, thank you.”

  Jeanie’s sigh sounded loud and full of despair. And then came the inevitable. “Liana, you aren’t old. And all men aren’t like Billy. You can find a man who will treat you better. I promise they’re out there.”

  “I know.”

  “You might know, but I don’t think you realize that you’ve got to try a bit.”

  “Oh, Jeanie.”

  “I’m serious, Li!” Her twang thickened like cold molasses. “Liana, honey, I’m sorry but no decent man is gonna just walk up to you at the diner or start knocking on your door. You’ve got to put yourself out there.”

  Oh, the irony. Kent had done both of those things. The first man in years who had made her even think of anything approaching romance was a man who had sought her out and knocked on her door.

  Though, of course, Kent Olson wasn’t trying to date her. No, he needed her help to solve a case and get a promotion.

  “Jeanie, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m not ready.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. I promise I’ll keep my eyes open and try to meet someone soon, but I don’t want to be set up.”

  “What am I going to tell Wes?”

  “How about the truth? How about you tell him that you’re sorry but you spoke too soon and out of turn?”

  Jeanie waited a few seconds to reply—and that wait made Liana grin. In addition to Jeanie’s firecracker ways and bulldozer personality, her sister-in-law also had a good heart. “All right. Fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want to come over soon? Mason would love to see you. He was just saying the other day that you haven’t come over in a while.”

  That was the thing with her older brother. He wasn’t the type to reach out to her. But she did know that if she showed up at their house for supper he would give her a big hug and be glad she was there. He wasn’t really a man of words.

  But for some reason she wasn’t eager to see him. Maybe it was because of Kent’s interest in Billy’s death. Maybe it just drummed up too many memories that she’d thought were neatly locked away. Whatever the reason, for her sanity’s sake, she needed to wait.

  “Thanks, but I really can’t right now. I’m pretty busy.”

  “We’re going to be reduced to only seeing you at the diner, you know. I’m going to have to order a plate of eggs just to catch up on your life.”

  Since Jeanie didn’t like eggs, that was saying a whole lot. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll see you soon. I’ve just got a lot going on.”

  “I hope you really do, Li. I’d hate to think you were hiding out like you used to do.” She sighed. “Well, I guess I better go call up Wes and give him the bad news.”

  “For some reason I don’t think he’s going to be all that disappointed.”

  “You’ll never know, though. Well, I’ll call soon.”

  “I can’t wait. Love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  She hung up then, feeling a little empty.

  Which made her wonder if that was a good thing...or a sign that she was about to go down a very bad path one more time.

  Looking around her house, she realized that the sudden silence was jarring. Usually, she found the quiet peaceful, but now all she felt was lonely. She should be still recovering from her afternoon at the state park with Kent.

  She should still be rattled and shaken by those scrapes on the rock from Billy’s handcuffs. But instead, she couldn’t stop thinking about Kent and the way he’d been so sweet to her.

  She should be regretting telling him so much about herself, for putting herself out in the open like that. But instead, all she could seem to think about was how right being with him felt.

  Not a bit of it made sense. It didn’t matter if he was a good listener or even if there was an attraction between the two of them that neither could deny.

  All that mattered was that they didn’t have a future. They were too different; she was too damaged...and if he ever found out what she’d been keeping from him?

  It was likely he’d never forgive her.

  She needed to remember that. If she’d learned anything it was that some things just couldn’t be pushed aside and buried. Sooner or later they always came up again.

  Chapter Nine

  He’d decided to talk to his dad at his parents’ house on Sunday instead of waiting until Monday at the station. Though he told himself it was so they could have more time, Kent knew that was a cop-out. The reality was that he was afraid to show too much weakness at work—which was laughable, since everyone there was very aware of all his flaws.

  For most of his life Kent had idolized his father. With good reason, too. Richard Olson was a great police officer, a devout churchgoer and Samaritan and had been an even better father. Oh, Kent knew his dad wasn’t perfect and that his father would be the first to point that out. But that knowledge didn’t always register in Kent’s weakest moments. During those times, the burden of attempting to live up to his father’s reputation was always in the back of his mind and heavy on his heart.

  That habit had cost him a lot. Since his demotion to the basement, Kent was trying to be better and to change. It was wrong of him to constantly compare himself to his dad. He was his own person and he needed to come to terms with both his strengths and his faults.

  It was just too bad those changes had only happened after he’d lost a big case and almost lost his job.

  All this was running through his head as he knocked on his parents’ front door.

  To his surprise, Dad answered. “Kent, why don’t you use your key anymore?”

  He took in his dad’s appearance—faded loose Levi’s, a white T-shirt that was untucked and bare feet. His father really loved walking around at home without shoes on. “Because I feel a little old to be doing that,” he replied. “You know I have my own place now. Plus, you and Mom deserve your privacy.”

  He grinned. “Do we? I’ll have to ask your mother about that,” he joked as he waved Kent inside. “Come on in. I was glad you called to say you wanted to stop by. Your mother was so pleased, she’s making a meatloaf and it’s not even a special occasion.”

  His mother wasn’t a great cook. She only made a handful of things well. But one of them was meatloaf. It was his favorite meal by far. Already looking forward to digging in, he glanced toward the kitchen. “Is she making mashed potatoes, too?”

  “Of course. You can’t have one without the other, right?” He closed the front door and headed toward the kitchen.

  Kent didn’t follow. “Hey, Dad? I want to say hi to Mom, but I came here to get some advic
e.”

  His father paused in midstep and turned to face him. “About what?”

  “A case. A cold case.” It was on the tip of his tongue to mention that other thing that was keeping him up at night. Mainly, that he was starting to have feelings for his main contact in the case. However, he decided to keep that to himself for a little while longer. Kent didn’t need to guess what his father would say to that. Kent’s fascination with Liana Mann wasn’t professional in the slightest.

  After studying him for a moment, his father ran a hand through his short blond hair that was now threaded with strands of gray. “Sure, Kent,” he said at last. “I’ll be happy to help if I can.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No need to thank me. We’ll talk as long as you want. But first, you’d best come say hello to your mother.”

  When they entered the kitchen, Kent grinned at his mother. She, too, was dressed casually. But for her, that was a pair of tailored jeans, brown designer loafers and a crisp, light blue blouse neatly tucked into her jeans. But no matter how she looked, her smile was all mom.

  “Kent, hearing from you this morning made my day. I was so glad I didn’t have any plans. As soon as we hung up, I ran to the store to make a special dinner.”

  Giving her a hug, he murmured, “You didn’t have to do that, Mom.”

  “I wanted to,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

  Spying the bowls on the countertop, Kent knew that his mom wasn’t just making his favorite meal, but his favorite cake, too. “Did you make a Coca-Cola cake?”

  “Of course.” She beamed. “It even turned out well, too.”

  “Mom, you really didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

  “I know, but it felt good to make a big meal. Dad and I usually just have grilled chicken and vegetables during the week.”

  “Your mother is watching my blood pressure like a hawk,” his father interjected.

  “Good. We need you around.” While his father playfully groaned, Kent lowered his voice. “Hey, Mom, I need to talk to Dad for a minute. Can we catch up during dinner?”

  “All right.” She glanced worriedly at his father.

  “Work, babe,” Dad said.

  Her eyes narrowed, reminding Kent that his mother might be completely at home in her kitchen, but she was also a lawyer and no one pulled much over on her.

  “It won’t take long.”

  “Want something to drink?” Dad asked. “I think we have some Sprite somewhere around.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  “Come on into the den, then.”

  His father’s den was in the back of the house. It was also everyone’s favorite room. His father was a voracious reader and also collected signed editions of his favorite authors. Because of that, his den was actually a library. Bookshelves lined two of the walls—one of which was a good fifteen feet high.

  Soon after they’d bought the house, Dad had hired a woodworker to build custom bookshelves that went almost to the top of the vaulted ceiling on one wall. Then, to make the crazy bookshelf complete, he had even commissioned an old-school library ladder to be built on rails for that one wall.

  Kent couldn’t think of a single friend when he was little who hadn’t asked to climb it at least once or twice.

  The rest of the room looked a lot like any other sixty-year-old man’s private sanctuary. There was an old desk, file cabinets, shelves filled with old photographs and several plaques and accolades from a long career.

  There were also a pair of worn leather chairs, a scarred coffee table and a gas fireplace, which they sat down in front of. Just like they’d done for much of his life.

  “Do you and Mom ever sit in here?”

  “You know the answer to that, son. Your mother isn’t one for being surrounded by all these books, leather, or all of my old junk.”

  “I guess not. She’s always been more of a TV type of person.”

  Not looking disappointed by that in the slightest, his father nodded. “Yep. When you were little, she’d save five days’ worth of soap operas to binge on Sunday nights. Now she’s always got a new Netflix show to see.”

  “Did you ever mind that?”

  “Mind what? That we have different interests?”

  Thinking of himself and Liana, though he knew he shouldn’t, Kent said, “You know, mind that you don’t have more hobbies in common or something?”

  He shrugged. “I never have. We both like being home, so I get to see her. Besides, I knew she was an independent woman when I married her, son. And, to be honest, after a long day at work, I kind of like my quiet time. She feels the same way.” He kicked his bare feet on the table. “What’s on your mind, Kent?”

  “The Billy Mann cold case. Do you know of it?”

  “A bit.”

  There was something in his father’s tone that hinted that he knew more about it than maybe he was letting on. Diving in, Kent said, “I’ve gotten to know the victim’s widow. Her name’s Liana.”

  His father’s gaze sharpened. “Is she cooperating?”

  “She is. It took a minute, but we’ve agreed to help each other out.”

  “How so?”

  “Liana is going to help me get a case solved and I’m going to help her move on.” Well, that was his understanding. He certainly had never said those exact words to her.

  “You must have done some fast talking to inspire that amount of trust.”

  “I don’t think it’s my fast talking as much as that we seem to get along for some reason.” Realizing that he needed to give his dad more information, he added, “When I first met her, she was at her diner job. She’d hardly give me the time of day. But later, after I visited her house, and then when we had coffee at a little spot near work, everything changed.”

  “Hold on. Are you saying you went to this widow’s house and asked her out?” Every word seemed to be laced with incredulity.

  “Not exactly.” After explaining how they’d run into each other on Sunday, he told him a bit about Liana’s work. “You wouldn’t believe these paintings of hers, Dad.”

  “They’re good?”

  “They’re better than good. And like nothing I’ve ever seen. All full of color and blotches. None of it looks like it would make sense, but it does. And get this—Liana does all right with them.”

  “She’s making a living?”

  Kent nodded. “A gallery sells them for her. Most have sold for several thousand dollars.”

  He whistled low. “I’m impressed. It sounds like she’s got a real God-given talent.”

  “Liana does. She didn’t go to art school or anything. I get the sense that she paints from her heart.”

  “This woman sounds real special, Kent.” He paused. “But listen to me. You’re walking a tightrope. If you’re not careful, everyone is going to say you shouldn’t be working on the case at all. You don’t want a conflict of interest,” he warned.

  “I hear you, but she’s never been a suspect.” He wasn’t just saying words, either. Last year’s idiocy had made a big impression on him. Big enough that he was done catering to his ego.

  His father leaned back in his chair. “So is Liana who you wanted to talk about?”

  “No. Dad, I think I discovered something.” Briefly, he told his father about their visit to the park. Finally, he shared her news about Billy’s drug problem and how he’d become violent with Liana. “Though a part of me wonders why none of this came to light before, I’m not going to dwell on it too much. After all, this is the opening in the case I’ve been looking for.”

  “It does sound promising,” he said slowly.

  “I want to talk to some of the guys who were Billy’s dealers. Even though it was ten years ago, I’m hoping some of them are still around. Weren’t you part of that drug task force around that time?”

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p; “I was.” He grimaced. “I put in two years on that force and thanked the good Lord the day I got out.”

  “I didn’t realize it was that tough an assignment.” He didn’t say that lightly, either. All cops knew there were some units that were fundamentally different than others. But for a lot of them, they saw the bigger picture. It took everyone working together to make a difference.

  “Some officers handle it real well. I didn’t. I hated it, if you want to know the truth. Give me a shooting or robbery any day of the week. Drug dealers are a whole other squirrel. Nothing’s sacred. Some of them—well, I don’t know if they’re loyal to anything at all.”

  “The money, maybe.”

  His father shrugged. “Maybe, but I always had the feeling that some of the guys didn’t seem all that influenced by money.” He sighed. “Back then, when Billy Mann went missing, things were in a particularly bad way. Meth had just made the rounds and we had a real upswing in crime and drug overdoses. Though Detective Evans is good, back then we had about double the caseloads than we did time. A lot of things fell through the cracks.”

  Kent had heard from several veteran cops about those days. “It was a hard time, huh?”

  “Worse than hard.” Sounding weary, his dad added, “I was sure that a couple of them would lie about anything—and would sell their firstborn if it would give them an edge. That was what I found difficult. I could never understand the motivation, and because of that, I knew I wasn’t the best fit for the job.”

  His father’s frank opinions made his question even harder to ask. “Would you help me?” When his father flinched, he added, “Or, if you’d rather not, could you recommend someone I could reach out to?”

  “Of course I’ll help, Kent. I’d be glad to.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in a bind or anything.”

  “You won’t. If one of those guys killed Billy and never had to face the consequences, I’d be more than happy to make sure justice prevailed. Besides, how Billy Mann died and then was stashed away in the park wasn’t right. No one should get away with such a thing.”