by Eve Gaddy
Will laughed as he followed Jed into the library. He let out a low, thoughtful whistle as he looked around. “This is great.”
“I like it,” Jed said, motioning him to take a seat. “It’s one of my favorite rooms.”
Thousands of books lined the shelves of the wood-paneled library. A fireplace took up one wall, filled for the summer with baskets of flowers. French doors opened onto a colorful garden and lawn running down to a lake surrounded by mossy cypress. In front of the elegant glass doors stood a neat walnut desk that gleamed with a rich brown sparkle. Burgundy leather chairs, comfortably worn, and an expensive-looking Oriental rug completed the picture. Comfort, class, elegance. Money.
Will drew up one of the chairs, thanking God it wasn’t one of those matchbox things that looked like it would break if a man sat on it.
“What brings you back, Will?” Jed took the other chair, gazing at him intently. “It’s not just coincidence, is it? You heard about Frannie.”
“A few days ago,” Will confirmed. “Read it in an old newspaper. I came as soon as I could.”
Jed’s gaze, cool and flat, met his. “They believe she was murdered.”
“I know.” He laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his stomach. “I just came from Fielder’s office.”
“Fielder?” He gave a humorless laugh. “Bet you didn’t get much information from him.”
“You’d be surprised,” Will said grimly.
Jed shot him a thoughtful glance, then said, “Let me get us something to drink. A beer?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass on the beer for now.” Straightening in his seat, he added, “I wouldn’t mind a glass of iced tea, though.”
Jed left the room, returning in a few moments, saying, “June will bring it out. Do you still drink your tea with a truckload of sugar?” He relaxed in the leather chair, long legs stretched out before him.
Will smiled. “Absolutely. Tea’s no good unless it’s clinging-to-the-spoon sweet.”
While they waited, Will stood, too restless to sit for long. He took a spin around the room, then turned to consider his foster brother. “Tell me something, Jed. Why does Fielder like you for Frannie’s murder?”
“Like me? You mean suspect me?”
“Yeah. Why the hell are you his prime suspect?”
Jed didn’t seem shocked. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“I can’t believe he told you about that. You weren’t one of his favorite people, any more than I was. Or am.”
“He didn’t have a choice,” Will said, pulling out his badge. He flipped it to Jed, watched him open the case and study it.
Jed looked up, his expression surprised. “You’re a Texas Ranger?”
“Yeah.” He watched Jed’s eyes as he said it. “And Frannie’s murder is my case.”
Chapter Three
WILL SPENT THE THREE DAYS following his reunion with Jed in Dallas, giving a deposition on another case. When he returned to Uncertain, Fielder had gathered the majority of the case files together, though a few were unaccountably missing. Still, what Will was able to read didn’t look good.
Seated at the deputy’s desk, he considered the papers in front of him with a sense of foreboding. The threat to Jed was very real. Circumstantial evidence, but damning.
He tossed the manila folder aside and closed his eyes, then rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to keep his brewing headache at bay. He needed to see the murder site for himself, but his unexpected journey out of town had delayed him. The sheriff hadn’t been particularly enthused about his surveying the site, but Will didn’t let that bother him. The old man wasn’t happy about anything Will did.
Hearing the door open, he glanced up. A woman stepped inside. Blond, pretty, slight. Early thirties, he judged. She didn’t speak, but her lips curved in a knowing smile as she walked toward him. Will’s eyes widened as he realized who she was. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Emmy?”
Her smile deepened. She rushed forward and flung her arms around him, words tumbling out of her. “I knew you’d come. I told Jed you would.” Another enthusiastic hug. “Riley and I got back in town last night. Jed just told me he’d seen you, and where I might find you. So I came down here as soon as I could.”
Will returned the hug, then held her away from him so he could look at her. Older, of course, but she was the same Emmy he remembered. Sweet, affectionate. Talkative. Right now her mouth ran a mile a minute. He grinned. “You sure grew up pretty, squirt.”
She laughed. “Still have that way with words, don’t you? Oh, Will, it’s so good to see you. If only Mom Fran . . .” Her voice trailed off. She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “Look at you, a Texas Ranger. Mom Fran would have been so proud.”
A surge of grief rose inside Will. Uncomfortable with the emotion Emmy’s words brought, he caught her hand and touched her ring. “How about you, all grown-up, and married, too. Are you happy?”
“Ecstatic. Riley is—” She sighed, her expression starry-eyed. “He’s wonderful. And he has a daughter. A beautiful, four-year-old daughter. Did you know? So now I’m a mother, too.”
“Jed told me when I saw him. He says you’re a natural.”
Emmy laughed. “I don’t know about that, but she’s a darling.” Then she added, “Everything would be perfect if it weren’t for this insane idea the sheriff has about Jed being a suspect. You’re ready to set things right, aren’t you, Will?”
Damn, he hated to shatter her confidence in him. If only it were that easy. For Emmy, it was. He shoved a hand through his hair and wondered how to explain things to her. Her loyalty didn’t allow her to question Jed. His didn’t allow him not to. “It’s not that simple.”
“What do you mean?” She turned wide, startled eyes to him. “Why not?”
Will glanced around, aware that Fielder was in his office and that ethics didn’t allow him to discuss the case in detail with Emmy—or anyone else, for that matter. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat. We can talk there.”
“All right, but I can’t imagine—“
“We’ll talk over lunch,” he repeated, taking her arm as they left.
THE CATFISH CORNER still served the best fried catfish in East Texas. It didn’t look a whole lot different than it had nineteen years ago, when they used to come in for special occasions. Dark wooden chairs clustered around sturdy tables topped with red-and-white-checked tablecloths. Huge ferns hung in the windows, a wide bank of them running the length of the back wall. The view of the moss-covered lake with its stands of tall cypress trees was one of the best around.
The same family still ran the place, Will realized when Emmy greeted the hostess, Zelma Lou Ferguson.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Emmy?” Will heard Zelma ask in a loud whisper. “Why, you haven’t been back from your honeymoon for a day and here you are out with another man.” She cast an experienced eye over Will, making him feel a bit like a catfish hooked on her line.
Emmy’s laughter rang out clearly. “I doubt Riley’s too worried, Zelma. This is Will.”
“Will?” She stared at him as she offered them the menus. “Will McClain? I heard you were back in town. Hear you’re a Texas Ranger, too.”
“That’s right,” Will said, bracing himself for the inevitable questions.
“Excuse me a minute. Mary Jane, you hurry up and bring some hush puppies and condiments over here,” she shouted to a waitress. Her eyes brightened with interest as she turned back to Will and Emmy. “You’re here about Frannie Granger’s murder, aren’t you? Is it true—”
“We’re in kind of a hurry, Zelma,” Emmy interrupted. “Will has to get back to work.”
Thank you, Emmy, he thought. Not that it slowed Zelma down m
uch. Will remembered that when they’d been in school together her mouth had never been shut. Obviously, she intended to stay and gossip. Luckily, another customer came in just then, sparing them further probing. Will had lived in the big city so long, he’d forgotten the speed of the small-town grapevine. Or the intensity of the inhabitants’ interest in anything newsworthy. Murder filled the bill in more ways than one.
“Are you married, Will?” Emmy asked after they ordered.
“Nope. Never been down that road.” He’d had relationships, of course, but the women had never been able to deal with his passion for his career. And there’d never been anyone important enough to give her the attention and time he should.
Still, vague feelings of dissatisfaction with his life seemed to have intensified recently. He wanted kids someday. Kids who wouldn’t have to wonder who their old man was and whether their mother would feed them or be flying so high she’d forget they existed. Kids who could depend on both parents to be there, to provide a home for them, to love them. Of course, before anything like that happened, he needed to find the right woman.
“What have you been doing for the last nineteen years?” Emmy asked, interrupting his reverie.
He smiled at her. Trust Emmy to get to the point. “Law enforcement, most of the time. I went into it when I turned eighteen.” He didn’t like to remember the year before that, what he’d done in order to stay out of the foster care system. He shook off the memories and turned the question back to Emmy. “What about you? What have you been up to since we all split up?”
“After they took me that day—Lord, Will, they wouldn’t even let me say goodbye to you and Jed. Took me right out of school and put me in another foster home.” She sighed heavily. “It didn’t last. None of them did. It just wasn’t the same after having Mom Fran.”
“No, it wouldn’t have been,” he agreed, remembering all the homes he’d gone through before Frannie. “I split before social services could find me. Thank God, they never did.” Again he brushed the unwelcome memories aside. “But since you’ve grown up, what have you been doing?”
“Do you want the short version or the long one?”
He smiled. “The short one for now. Later we’ll catch up more.”
“Most recently I was a blackjack dealer on a riverboat. But I’ve been a waitress, a housekeeper—” She stopped and laughed. “You’d be surprised at all the things I’ve done.” They talked some more, hitting the highlights until the waitress set their food before them.
Will took a bite of hush puppy, savoring the taste. “What brought you back to Uncertain, Emmy?”
“Partly what finally brought you back here, I imagine. Frannie.” She cut a catfish filet with her fork and took a bite, her gaze distant. “I read the article about the bones being found and knew I had to come back. I had decided to look for my birth mother anyway, so it seemed logical to seek some answers here.”
“I always wondered if you’d try to discover your birth parents. Did you find your mother?”
“No.” Regret flickered in her eyes. “I’ve put the search on hold. We—Riley and I received some threatening letters during the search. Rather than risk Riley and Alanna getting hurt, I just gave up. I’m trying to get on with life with my husband and child. The past doesn’t seem as important now.”
“Except for Frannie,” Will said.
Her gaze met his. “Yes, except for Frannie. And what about Jed? Is he really a suspect?”
He set his fork down. “Emmy, I can’t talk about it. It’s an open case and—”
She interrupted impatiently. “I’m not asking for state secrets. Is Jed a suspect? Surely you can answer that.”
He hesitated. “Let’s just say you wouldn’t like the answer.”
“Well, do something.” She made a stabbing motion with her fork. “You can’t let the sheriff arrest Jed.”
“I may not have any choice.”
“You don’t seriously think Jed—” She broke off. Her eyes widened with horror. “You can’t think Jed did it.”
His hand curled into a fist on his thigh. Emmy was the last person in the world he wanted to discuss this with. He lowered his voice, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Do you remember that day? Remember the argument? I’ve never seen Jed that angry. Or Frannie, either.”
Emmy also lowered her voice but spoke intensely. “I don’t care how angry he was, Jed would never have hurt Frannie. I can’t believe you’d think for a minute—”
Will cut her off. “I don’t want to think it. But I can’t get that fight out of my mind.” Jed had been furious at Frannie for denying him the chance to go to Juilliard to study classical music. And none of his arguments had swayed her. That day, the day Frannie disappeared, they’d had their worst fight yet, culminating with Jed leaving in a rage and Frannie rushing after him. “You remember, don’t you, Emmy? You told the sheriff about it.”
Her eyes clouded and she frowned. “He wormed it out of me. I was thirteen, I didn’t know what else to do. I thought he’d throw me in jail if I didn’t answer him.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. He heard it from me, too, when he questioned me at school the next day. And eventually, Jed admitted to it.” It still infuriated Will to remember how easily Fielder had extracted that information from him.
Emmy frowned. “But if he’s using those conversations against Jed . . . that’s not evidence! My God, Will, we were just a couple of kids.”
“Maybe so, but the fact remains he knows about the argument. And I can tell you one thing. None of this helps Jed’s case.”
None of the evidence Will had seen so far helped Jed’s case. It only made things blacker. He was going to have to question Jed. Officially. And hope he could find something Fielder had missed to help prove his innocence.
AT JED’S LAWYER’S REQUEST, the questioning took place in Riley Gray Wolf’s law office. Dexter Thorndyke, Jed’s attorney, was as good as they came, a point definitely in Jed’s favor. Thorndyke, or Thorny as some people called him, had been an assistant D.A. in New Orleans before he’d switched to defense law. He was smart, cagey, and the best attorney Will could think of for Jed to have in his corner. Rumor had it his services didn’t come cheap. Rumor also held that Jed’s wife Gwyn was loaded.
Frankly, Will didn’t care how Jed and Gwyn afforded Thorndyke, he was just glad Jed had him.
Fielder was also present, though Will let him know he was running this particular show. Still, Will didn’t expect miracles, and could only hope the sheriff wouldn’t make matters worse.
“I appreciate your willingness to talk to us again,” he said to Jed as they all took their seats around the oval wood table in Riley’s conference room. “I realize you’ve been over this with Sheriff Fielder, but I hoped we might shed some light on exactly what happened.”
Jed wasn’t happy about being interviewed again. Not that Will blamed him. He wasn’t real happy about having to question him.
“Okay, let’s get started.” Will pulled out the notes from Fielder’s interrogation, though he knew them well by now. “In your statement to Sheriff Fielder on April 10 of this year, you say that the last time you saw Frannie Granger was the morning of her disappearance.” He studied Jed across the table. “Can you tell me about that day?”
Jed’s jaw tightened, but he spoke readily enough. “Frannie and I argued that morning. About where I was going to college. I left the house and she followed me out. We talked a bit longer, then Frannie said she had to get to work.”
“According to witnesses,” Fielder put in, “it wasn’t just a simple argument. They were both spitting mad and yelling and Louis here was cussing up a storm. And he didn’t tell us about the fight voluntarily at first. It was only after I reminded him I had several statements about it that he admitted to it.”
“It was nearly twenty yea
rs ago,” Jed said, sparing the sheriff an angry glance. “I didn’t remember the exact sequence of events.”
“I don’t believe my client needs to answer any more questions about that particular point, Sheriff,” Thorndyke said, his Louisiana drawl pronounced. “He’s already been over that with you several times.”
Will warned Fielder off with a frown. Returning to Jed, he asked, “Where did you go after you left Frannie? Did you go to school?”
“No. I was angry, so I skipped school and went fishing. Look, Will, I told Fielder all this the first time he questioned me. Besides, you know it, too.”
“I’m aware of that. Just making sure I have everything correct.” He looked down at the paper he held and asked another question—one Fielder had asked, apparently, but the answer wasn’t documented. “Did anyone see you go out in your boat?”
Hands clasped on the table in front of him, Jed frowned in concentration. After a moment he said, “The clerk at Bubba’s. I had to get gas.”
“Do you remember who the clerk was?”
“Sure. He worked there a couple of years. It was Rob Boulder. But he left town years ago.”
“We’ll try to locate him. Did anyone else see you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Now for the big question. “Did anyone see Frannie leave you?”
Jed shrugged, then gazed at him. “I don’t know. Unless you or Emmy did.”
Will turned to Fielder. “Why aren’t there any notes about whether anyone saw Frannie after she left Jed? I thought you questioned her employers about it?” Something vitally important to the case, and the information wasn’t there.
Fielder flushed. “I asked around when she disappeared. Asked her employers and her friends. But it’s been nearly twenty years, and sometimes things get lost. I don’t remember anyone saying they’d seen her at all that day. Only people who saw her that morning were you, Emmy Monday and Jed Louis.”
Thorndyke smiled, not a good sign for the sheriff. “Hearsay, Sheriff. Not good enough. Gotta have it on paper to admit it as evidence.”