Caroline held her breath and tiptoed into the room. She watched as Russell’s mother took a seat on the sofa and patted the area beside her. Natalie was tiny and bird-like, graceful in her movements. Russell, with his long limbs, was anything but. He collapsed next to his mother, heaved a sigh, and stretched out. “Have a seat,” he told her.
Keeping a safe distance, Caroline took the chair close to the window. Her pulse slowed. Natalie wasn’t scary. She didn’t look at her like she had two heads or was a bad person; she would live through this.
“So Russell tells me you’re helping out at the nursing home.” Natalie leaned forward and brushed a piece of lint off her leg. “How do you like it?”
Caroline looked at Russell, who smiled. “It’s good. I’m getting used to it.”
“It’s great experience,” Natalie said. “And I guess you know your mom is working in our office?”
“Sure.” Caroline squirmed at little in her seat.
“She’s talented,” Natalie commented. “Really talented.”
Caroline cleared her throat as she looked up at Natalie Harper. Clearly, the woman really and truly liked her mother. “S-she was going to be a physician,” she said in a soft voice.
“I believe it.”
In the awkward beat of silence that followed, Russell put both elbows on his knees. “So, Mom, I was telling you that there’s this lady at the nursing home—June Gaines. She used to be a doctor and deliver babies until she got into a really bad accident. Now can’t remember a lot of things—like stuff that happened today. And she can’t work.”
Natalie motioned for Russell to continue.
“So, when Caroline goes in her room, Dr. Gaines always thinks she’s someone else.”
Russell’s mother raised an eyebrow. “Like, an actual person? Or—”
“She calls me Emma,” Caroline interjected. “That’s my aunt’s name. My mom’s sister.”
Clearing his throat, Russell leaned forward and gestured. “Tell my mom what else she says.”
Caroline reddened and ducked her head. “Well, she talks about a baby and someone hurting Emma, some other weird stuff. She’s just sure I’m Emma, and she talks to me like she knows me.” She hesitated, suddenly feeling this was all stupid. Natalie would think they were both silly kids, on some wild made-up mystery.
“And, Mom, Dr. Gaines doesn’t do this with anyone else—get all upset—except for Caroline,” added Russell.
“Could it be another Emma?” Natalie asked, looking thoughtful. She didn’t laugh or seem to think Caroline was crazy. “Or do you look like your aunt?”
Russell considered this and stared hard at Caroline.
“Um, yeah. We do look alike. A lot more than my mom and I do,” Caroline said, still nervous. She played with the hem of her shirt. “And I wouldn’t care if Dr. Gaines thought I was Emma, but when she starts freaking out and talking about this baby, it’s kind of scary.”
“Did you ask your aunt about it?” Natalie shifted to look at Caroline straight on.
“I did,” Caroline said, shrugging. “She changes the subject or avoids it, kind of like she wants me to think nothing happened.” She lowered her eyes. “It’s so creepy. It’s like whatever happened is happening over and over when Dr. Gaines sees me. And I think that whatever baby she’s talking about . . .” Caroline looked at Russell.
“We don’t think the baby made it.” He finished the sentence.
Natalie winced. “Why do you say that?”
“She told me—Emma—that I should adopt. That there are other options.”
Raising an eyebrow, Natalie clasped her hands tighter. “Oh. I see.” Caroline watched Natalie’s face change from concern to shock as she absorbed the story. “Well, what about this? If your aunt won’t talk, you could ask your mother.”
Caroline gulped. “I don’t even really know my mom.”
Thankfully, Natalie didn’t defend Allie. “Why not think about reconnecting now? I know she’d welcome the time with you.”
Hesitating, Caroline slid her hands under her legs to keep them from trembling. “Did she say that?”
Natalie cocked her head. “You know, I can’t speak for her. I can only tell you what I’ve seen and heard in my office. Caroline, she cares about you. How could a mother not?”
Caroline’s eyes began to itch and sting. She never wanted to cry in front of Russell, but it would be even worse to start sobbing with both of them in the same room.
“I’m so sorry,” Natalie added. “And I think you are well within your rights to ask your mom if she knows what happened with Emma.”
Caroline pressed a hand to her lips, almost not wanting to say the words. “I-I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Natalie asked in a soft tone. She didn’t seem like she was really looking for an answer. She was playing devil’s advocate. She looked at Russell and reached over and patted his knee. “Tell her what happened with you.”
“She knows about the DUI. And the community service and fines and restrictions.”
“Tell her the rest of the story,” Natalie prompted him.
The rest? Caroline sat up straighter.
Russell ran a hand through his hair and smoothed it over his forehead. “The bad part, right?” He grimaced and turned to face Caroline. “So I ran with this group of older guys in Buckhead. They all had money; most of them drove Mercedes and BMWs. They were pretty crazy, always drinking, drag racing, stealing stuff, just really nuts.”
A wave of surprise swept through Caroline’s body.
“This one night, one of them asked me to get some beer,” Russell added. “I knew this guy, so I had him buy it. We went to the park, finished off a few cases. We shouldn’t have ever gotten back into my friend’s Expedition, and for some reason, I was driving.” Russell paused and swallowed. “The plan was to pick up some girls.”
His mother coughed and frowned.
“Prostitutes.” Russell’s face turned deep red. “It wasn’t my idea, but I didn’t back out either. So we picked up three girls, took off for one of the guy’s houses. On the way, this huge bus crossed the highway. When I veered out of the way, my car flipped. The Expedition blew a tire, spun out, and rammed straight into another car.”
Caroline blinked, wide-eyed.
“One guy died. Another broke his back, and I was pretty bruised up,” Russell said. “I was in and out of it for days.” Russell paused, staring at his shoes. “What was really terrible—what my mom wanted me to tell you—was when it was all over, the families of the two guys sued me and my parents. They told the police I’d coerced everyone to drink, that it was my idea to pick up the girls, that I’d paid for them too. Everyone had the same story. Except me.”
Natalie interrupted. “We had to hire a lawyer and fight it. It took time and a lot of money. But those friends—we can’t even call them that now—wanted Russell to take the fall for everything. The death of that boy, all of the injuries.”
“What happened?” Caroline was almost afraid to ask.
“The other kids had been in trouble before. Drugs, vandalism, all juvenile offenses. We didn’t know that at the time, but with some digging, it came out. That tipped off the judge that this group might not be telling the whole truth.” Natalie pursed her lips. “Of course, Russell had just gotten a DUI, so he wasn’t any bright, shining example.”
“Oh, wow,” Caroline breathed.
Natalie nodded. “It took a lot of trust and time, but we got through it.” She steadied her gaze on Caroline. “That’s why I think you should talk to your mom. This is your life and your family. Your mother and sister are adults. They can handle some hard questions.”
“Okay.” Caroline whispered the word. “Even the part about Dr. Gaines?”
“Absolutely,” Natalie agreed. “She thinks you’re Emma. Maybe it’s a totally different person and you just look like her, maybe not. But you’ll never find out if you don’t ask.”
Right that moment, Caroline wasn’t sur
e what she wanted. She felt as if she’d stumbled onto a ticking bomb and she was the only person who could try to detonate it. One false move, one wrong clip of the wire, and everything around her would explode.
FORTY-SIX
ALLIE
2016
Allie knew she’d gone too far with the Montgomery family. She might have jeopardized everything. His father had likely called the sheriff or one of his deputies to complain.
She’d have to work fast. What else did D’Shawn know? Had his mother not intervened, Allie thought he might have kept talking. Whether it was football or genetics, something went horribly wrong for a player with so much potential. In her mind, she reexamined his demeanor, the way his muscles didn’t respond, the slur of his voice when he answered questions.
Allie took out a thick pad of paper and made a list. Her pen moved over the lines with precision. Lamar Childree, D’Shawn Montgomery, Sheriff Lee Gaines, and Coach Thomas. Then there was the mention of the cabin. Did such a place exist?
Allie rubbed her bottom lip, pondering the other options. A sharp rap at the door interrupted her concentration. Allie got to her feet, shaking out the numbness in her legs. She glanced at the clock. It was getting late. A peek outside showed the outline of a man’s shoulder. In the disappearing light, the edge of the fabric looked pressed and neat. Her father?
Allie held her breath, unlocked the dead bolt, and eased the knob to the right. As she cracked open the door, she saw that it wasn’t her father at all. Sheriff Gaines stood waiting on the front porch.
Startled, Allie grabbed the wooden door frame for balance. She half expected the man to grab her and pull her into his waiting patrol car. His German shepherd waited by his side, ears perked at attention, eyes bright in the flicker of the streetlights.
Gaines’s brow furrowed with several etched lines. Despite his clean-shaven, shined-boots appearance, there was something about his frame that indicated a deep and thorough exhaustion.
“Miss Marshall.” Gaines cleared his throat. “May I have a word?”
Allie forced herself not to tremble. The last one-on-one encounter she’d had with the man had been a decade earlier. That night she’d ended up in jail. She wasn’t going to throw the door open, welcome him in, and make a fresh pot of coffee.
“Of course,” Allie managed. The air seemed to have been sucked out of the room with a vacuum. She willed the phone to ring or her mother to stop by with an emergency. Anything to get this man off her front doorstep.
Gaines cleared his throat. His eyes, bright and piercing, met hers. “I need to warn you that you’re on some shaky ground.”
Allie lifted her chin and looked into his eyes. She would be polite, she told herself. She would listen.
Gaines stepped closer. “Be careful, Miss Marshall.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re poking around where you shouldn’t be,” he began. “Upsetting innocent folks.”
“But, his wife let me in.”
“You weren’t there as a reporter.” Gaines curled his upper lip. “You didn’t tell the truth.”
“I did, eventually, explain who I was.” Allie said the words weakly.
“After you’d tricked them,” the sheriff snapped. “They could file a formal complaint.” Gaines leaned closer. “They’re thinking about it right now.”
Guilt washed over her body. Allie tried her best to think of an explanation, an excuse for not telling the truth. She wasn’t a liar, or a manipulator, she had gone with honest intentions, but now she had done something that proved otherwise.
“Your probation officer, Miss Williams, would certainly be interested in this little situation.” Gaines almost smiled. “I haven’t called her yet. But that depends.”
“On what?” Allie said, cold creeping down her arms and legs.
“On your cooperation,” he replied, glancing behind him at the empty street. Gaines didn’t move any closer. He kept a safe distance, waiting for her response.
Allie couldn’t help her reaction. Nausea welled in her stomach, churning at the thought of courtrooms, lawyers, and jail. Another sentence. She hadn’t done enough to warrant that. She could explain, apologize. This time, she took a step, narrowing the space between them. Allie moved her hand and caught the doorknob, gripping it with all of her might. “Please, if you’re not going to charge me—”
Gaines’s hand shot forward and caught the edge of the door. “I’m not done.”
Allie flinched, blinked up at the man who had ruined her life.
The sheriff lowered his voice. “Back off. Quit digging around in the past.”
Anger welled up in Allie. Suddenly, she wanted to slam the door. She wanted to yell and scream and tell him to leave. “And what if the past keeps popping up, Sheriff? Like flyers at my daughter’s school?”
“You’re just making things worse for yourself.” Gaines narrowed his eyes. “If you insist on stirring up trouble, upsetting innocent folks in this town, there’s nothing but heartache ahead.” He folded his arms. “Is that what you want for your parents? Disgrace? Public humiliation? That’s quite a legacy for your own child too.”
“Leave her out of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “And stay away from her. She’s done nothing.”
“Watch yourself, Miss Marshall,” the sheriff cautioned.
“What I want . . .” Allie took a breath. “Is for my daughter to be safe. I want my family back. And I want my name to be cleared.”
Gaines swelled up, indignant. “All of the evidence led to you. You’d been drinking. There was blood on your clothes. Your fingerprints. Skin under your nails. A murder weapon. I did my job.”
“The killer’s still out there, Sheriff,” Allie murmured. “And the truth is going to come out, even if I’m not the one who finds it.” She stared into his eyes, waiting for a flicker of fear, a tiny look of worry to cross his face. Anything that would indicate he’d been responsible for leaving Coach Thomas to die.
The sheriff didn’t flinch. Allie’s throat began to close. “It’s true that I didn’t care for the coach. And publishing an editorial wasn’t the best way to handle what I believed was true—what I still believe. I-I was young and thought I knew everything.” She swallowed. “But someone took his life—and left his family without a father. His wife without a husband.”
Gaines stared back, stone-faced. “And he was having an affair.”
Allie stopped, the air suddenly still around her. “What? Who? Are-are you accusing me?” she sputtered in disbelief. “If you’re so sure about that, why didn’t this come up during the trial?”
“No. I’m not accusing you,” Gaines replied evenly.
Covering her eyes with her hands, Allie tried to stop the room from spinning. She needed Gaines to leave. She needed to shut and lock the door behind him. And never speak to this man again.
“What do you remember about that night?”
Everything, Allie wanted to scream. But she waited a beat, telling herself to be calm and answer the question. She didn’t need to make things worse. “All I was doing was looking for my sister. She was stopping for something at the grocery store and coming straight to my house. When she didn’t show up, I got worried and went looking for her.”
“And?”
“She was in the hospital,” Allie replied, her tone softer.
“I know,” Gaines answered. “My wife was on call. She told me a girl had come in who was in pretty bad shape.”
June Gaines had taken care of Emma?
“Well, of course . . . She was attacked,” Allie said, hugging her arms to her body. “But you already know all of this. Some drifter who tried to rape her in the park.” She hesitated. “And no one ever found him.”
“There was no drifter.” Gaines tightened his jaw.
Allie stopped. She frowned, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
“Listen to me,” the sheriff continued. “According to my wife, your sister had been knocked around pretty badly. She had older bruising—mea
ning this wasn’t the first time. Apparently the nurse who did the rape kit didn’t think it was sexual assault.”
No drifter? No attempted rape? Allie dropped her arms to her sides, as if they suddenly weighed a hundred pounds each. “I-I don’t get it. Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you’re interfering where you don’t belong. Again.” Gaines frowned. “And because you evidently don’t know your sister as well as you think you do. I guarantee there’s more to her extracurricular life than meets the eye.”
Allie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. Her head churned with jumbled thoughts. Her sister, according to the sheriff, was a liar who’d been in a long-term abusive relationship?
No. She wasn’t falling for it. Gaines was a master manipulator, trying to throw her off her original plan. She was looking at a coldblooded killer. A man without conscience. A psychopath deluded enough to convince himself someone else had committed the crime. He actually believed that threatening her parole, along with casting doubt and suspicion on Emma, would take Allie’s focus off the sheriff. Allie bit her lip. Gaines was so wrong.
“I’m done here,” the sheriff said flatly. He began to walk away, the dog following close to his pant leg. Then Gaines turned and looked over his shoulder. “Stay away from D’Shawn Montgomery and his family. I hear they’re saving you a spot at Arrendale. Just in case.”
FORTY-SEVEN
ALLIE
2016
Allie sank to her knees and curled up tight, wrapping her arms around her calves. She couldn’t make herself small enough. The brave façade she’d put up for the past thirty minutes vanished. Sheriff Lee Gaines had rattled her like a category-five hurricane.
Now there were even more questions, the first of which shook Allie to the core. If her sister wasn’t sexually assaulted or raped, the only reason an obstetrician would be taking care of her was because Emma was pregnant. She pressed her knuckles to her bottom lip.
Who was the father, though? And if she was getting hurt, why keep it a secret from her family? What really happened that night?
Allie ran her hands down her face. There had been a guy. Someone Emma was seeing.
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