A Cloud of Suspicion

by Patricia Davids

  Had Patrick gone to see her?

  Shelby sent up a quick prayer for reconciliation. Both of them had suffered.

  Propping her elbows on her knees, she waited and watched. She didn’t have to wait long.

  Patrick came storming out the town hall doorway with a fierce scowl on his face.

  For a second, Shelby’s courage wavered.

  Okay, Lord, You put me on this bench today and You’ve all but dropped him in my lap. I’m not chasing after him. I’m trying to help my library and the people of this town.

  She rose and started across the lawn

  “Mr. Rivers,” she called out loudly. “Do you have a moment?”

  He stopped and stared at her. The scowl on his face didn’t budge. “It seems I’ve got more time than I expected. What can I do for you?”

  This didn’t bode well for her request.

  Shelby made her way between two parked cars and stopped on the opposite side of his bike. “I hope I’m not keeping you from something.”

  “You’re not, but some people are.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  Shelby followed his gaze to see Coral Travis watching them from her window with a self-satisfied smile on her face. Reaching over, she tugged on a cord and the blinds dropped, cutting her off from their view.

  Puzzled, Shelby said, “I don’t understand.”

  Sighing, Patrick took a seat on his cycle. “I’m trying to get my stepfather’s house on the market, but it seems there’s a problem with the title.”

  Shelby frowned. “What kind of problem?”

  “The property deed seems to have been misplaced. No clear title, no sale—until the records are found.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure it won’t take long to straighten out the problem.”

  “Right. And the moon is made of green cheese.”

  She didn’t know what to say in the face of his deep sarcasm. Looking down, she bit her lip and crossed her arms.

  “I’m sorry, Shelby, I shouldn’t take my bad temper out on you.”

  “It must be frustrating for you having to stay in Loomis.”

  “I need to get back to L.A. I should have known something like this would happen. Nothing good has ever come out of this town.”

  “God’s goodness is all around us. Even in Loomis.”

  “How can you say that, knowing your friend is still missing and three people are dead?”

  “There is evil in the world, I’m not denying that. I’m only saying that more good than evil exists in our lives. Look for the good as hard as you look for the bad, Mr. Riv—Patrick. You’ll find it.”

  He tilted his head to the side and studied her until she felt the color rising in her cheeks. “I’m glad you called me Patrick. Any more snakes in your book bin?”

  “No. I think the sheriff was right. It was an April Fool’s joke gone bad.”

  “Any more notes on your windshield?”

  “No, and you don’t have to point out every bad thing that’s happened in my week to make your case.”

  “What case would that be?”

  “That I refuse to see the bad things happening around me.”

  “Aren’t you guilty of wearing rose-colored glasses?”

  “No, I wear contacts, but they’re not tinted.”

  He chuckled at that. “All right. I’ll see good if I look for it. What did you need to talk to me about?”

  “I was hoping you might reconsider donating some of your mother’s books to our library. Especially the six journals and diaries from the eighteen hundreds that we found last night. They are one-of-a-kind works that provide a unique look into the lives of Louisiana people prior to the Civil War.”

  He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and leaned back. “You want them so you can impress Mrs. Renault with the start you’ve made to her son’s legacy.”

  Shelby opened her mouth to protest but closed it quickly. “All right, I’m busted. Yes, I want to show that I have more than an idea. That I already have a collection started. It’ll make more of an impression if she can look through some of the books and journals and see for herself how important it is to preserve our heritage.”

  “Mrs. Renault was busy making cutthroat business deals while my mother drove the length and breadth of this state saving ‘our heritage’ on a measly teacher’s salary. Now you want me to hand it over for nothing so Charla Renault can hang her son’s name on it?”

  Feeling shamefaced, Shelby said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Taking a deep breath, he countered her apology with one of his own. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m having a bad day, and I’m taking it out on you. Mom might have liked the idea. Since I’m going to be in town for a little longer, I’ll think about it.”

  Shelby brightened suddenly. “Hey, maybe Max Pershing could help you with your property deed. Max is a member of our church. His family owns the largest real estate firm in the area. I’m sure he deals with deeds and such all the time.”

  “I already have a Realtor from Covington.”

  “Yes, but Max is local and his family is—high powered. In this case, he might be able to help you more than an outsider.”

  “I thought the Renaults had all the political clout in this town.”

  “It’s been about half-and-half, but Max just got engaged to Ava Renault, so he has that half covered, too.”

  Shaking his head, Patrick looked down. “Like her fiancé is going to help me.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  He glanced up at her. “Are you that naive or don’t you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Ava Renault is the one who found me in bed with Coral. She’s the one who first cried rape.”

  Patrick clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ached. Reliving that night served no purpose. A promising football career, his reputation, his relationship with his friends and his stepdad, all of it had come to an end that night.

  He studied Shelby’s face. Does she believe I’m guilty?

  Folding her arms over her chest, she looked truly distressed. “I didn’t know Ava had anything to do with it.”

  If he explained, would she accept it as the truth?

  He needed that. He needed someone to believe he was innocent.

  If she didn’t, after so much disappointment, he wasn’t sure he could face it.

  Take a chance. Tell her the truth.

  If nothing else, it might help him to get the story off his chest. Maybe airing the whole thing would finally put to rest the bitterness that consumed him.

  Glancing around the busy parking lot, he took her elbow and guided her toward the stone bench she had recently vacated. He might work up the nerve to tell Shelby, but he didn’t want anyone else listening in.

  Taking a seat on the bench, Shelby looked up at him. He didn’t sit. Instead, he pushed his hands deep in his pockets again.

  “Coral approached me at the after-game party that night. I was flattered out of my mind. She was way out of my league and I knew it.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Mix a victory party with too much alcohol and revved-up male hormones, and you get stupid instead of smart. No, who am I kidding? I never was that smart to begin with.”

  “I always thought you tried to hide your intelligence.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Why would I do that?”

  Raising her hands as if to balance them like scales, she said, “You know—jocks were cool—brainy was uncool.”

  He chuckled. Some of his tension drained away. “You were brainy.”

  Folding her hands in her lap, she nodded. “Which proves my point.”

  “You weren’t uncool.”

  “Yes, I was, but you didn’t notice because I was good at being invisible.”

  He’d spent the last ten years focused on how hard his life had been. He hadn’t given much thought to how others had fared. Had he always been so selfish? “I’m sorry if I snubbed you.”

  Lifting her shoulders in
a quick shrug, she said, “You didn’t. If you’d rather not talk about that night, I understand.”

  “Like I said, I made some stupid decisions.”

  “Maybe it’s time you forgave yourself for that.”

  “Are you my therapist now?”

  “No, but I understand how we sometimes continue to blame ourselves long after we’ve forgiven someone else.”

  “If you think I’ve forgiven Coral or Ava Renault, you’re wrong. Coral invited me to her dorm room of her own free will. We made love. I fell asleep. The next thing I know, the lights come on and Ava Renault is staring at me like I was that snake that tumbled out of your book bin.

  “Coral sits up, takes one look at Ava and then starts babbling that she didn’t know what happened or how I got in bed with her. She claimed the last thing she remembered was having a beer at the bonfire. That’s when Ava blurted out that I must have slipped something in Coral’s drink. I didn’t even know what to say. I had no idea how to get those kind of drugs, but Coral latched on to the idea and ran with it. She started shouting that I must have given her something.”

  “Did you try to explain?”

  “Of course I did, but by this time Ava had the phone in her hand. I can still hear her coolly saying she was reporting a rape. Thirty minutes later, I was on the way to the Loomis jail because what a Renault wants, a Renault gets in this town.”

  “Coral never recanted her statement?”

  “No. There wasn’t enough evidence to make a case. It was her word against mine. Let me tell you, once someone hangs that label on you, it never comes off. A week after I was released, the dean called me in to tell me my scholarship had been revoked. In case you missed it, the Renaults have a lot of pull in this town. The life I knew, the dreams I had, they vanished before my eyes.”

  “So you left Loomis.”

  “My stepfather threw me out. I couldn’t get a job. What choice did I have?”

  “Did you speak to Coral after that night?”

  “Of course I tried, but I couldn’t get past her self-appointed bulldog. Ava made sure I didn’t ‘bother’ her roommate again.”

  “Ten years is a long time. Perhaps if you spoke to Coral now…”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the town hall. “I think the missing deed makes it pretty clear that Coral has no interest in mending fences.”

  “You can’t be sure she’s behind that. It could be a simple clerical error. She may be willing to help clear your name.”

  “Can you see the wife of the next mayor standing up in front of everyone and admitting she lied? That she was a party to a false arrest?”

  “If she has God in her heart, she can admit the truth.”

  “I don’t believe God has anything to do with it.”

  “You aren’t a believer?”

  “God pretty much turned His back on me ten years ago, so I returned the favor.”

  “That isn’t true. God never turns His back on anyone. We suffer, we are tested, we may never know why, but God is always with us.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Faith.”

  “You make it sound simple.”

  “Searching for faith is a lot like seeking the good in people. If you refuse to look, you won’t find it.”

  He tipped his head to stare into her sympathetic eyes. “Do you believe my story?”

  “Yes.”

  One simple word, yet it meant so much.

  He filled his lungs with air, amazed to find the tight band of bitterness loosening its grip. After all this time, someone believed him.

  “Thank you.”

  Such an inadequate phrase for the gratitude he wanted to express.

  “You’re welcome.” Her eyes never left his.

  He reached out and gently touched her cheek. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?”

  At Patrick’s words and gentle touch, Shelby’s heart skipped a beat then raced madly. The look in his eyes sent warmth coursing through her body. The spicy scent of his aftershave mingled with the sweet perfume of the blossoms around her, creating a cocoon of splendor. He thought she was beautiful. Her adolescent daydreams all those years ago were nothing compared to the reality of this moment.

  If only she could help him find his way back to God.

  Smiling softly, she said, “I know I’m not that pretty. You’re just being kind.”

  An inscrutable expression settled over his features. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by cynicism. “You’re far too trusting, Shelby.”

  Baffled by the change in his demeanor, she struggled to understand. “Why do you say that?”

  “Your face is as easy to read as a first-grade book. I appreciate that you believe me, but don’t go thinking that I’m kind or that you can reform me.”

  Embarrassed, Shelby rose to her feet, wanting only to escape. How stupid of her to read more into his touch than simple gratitude. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to return to work.”

  Gathering the remains of her lunch, Shelby hurried toward the entrance of the library. Glancing back once, she saw he was still standing in the same spot, watching her.

  SEVEN

  “That man is outside again.”

  Shelby jumped at the sound of the hoarse whisper by her ear. Spinning around, she found the elderly Miss Maynard clutching the murder mysteries she’d checked out and casting nervous glances over her shoulder toward the door.

  Following her gaze, Shelby’s heart skipped a beat. Was it Patrick?

  It wasn’t.

  Chuck Peters, dressed in dirty tan pants and a plaid shirt, stood at the base of the steps, panhandling as people walked by.

  Disappointment sharp as a sliver from the old wooden shelves pierced her bubble of hope. What was she thinking? Patrick had no reason to come here. Especially after what he’d said last week.

  During the past week she’d seen him only once. She’d gone with some friends to the local Italian restaurant. Patrick had been sitting alone at a table in the rear, studiously ignoring the veiled looks cast his way by other patrons.

  Part of her wanted to march over and ask if she could join him, but she didn’t have enough courage. Instead, she’d endured an uncomfortable meal knowing he was just across the room.

  Had he managed to straighten out his problems with his property deed? If he had, he’d be leaving soon. The thought that she might never see him again lowered her already-low spirits.

  “I don’t like the looks of him.” Miss Maynard made her disapproval clear.

  “Do you carry books on Internet crimes?” a youthful male voice asked behind Shelby.

  “Miss Mason, the sink in the bathroom is stopped up,” someone called from the end of the aisle.

  Shelby tore her gaze away from the door and cast a quick look at the people gathering around her.

  Would this day ever end?

  The library normally closed at five, but today was Thursday, the one day a week they stayed open until eight o’clock.

  Tonight was the board meeting. Her one and only chance to convince Charla Renault the library deserved her donation.

  Instead of concentrating on her presentation, all Shelby could do was think about Patrick.

  “You should call the cops on him.”

  Shelby pasted a smile on her face as she turned to the tiny white-haired woman. Her cheeks actually ached with the effort. Even the children during Story Hour that morning had been restless and difficult to control.

  “Mr. Peters is harmless, Miss Maynard.”

  Nodding to the young mother with a toddler on her hip and one more in tow, Shelby waved and called out, “Thank you, Mrs. Kelley, I’ll see to the bathroom in a moment.”

  Next?

  She smiled at the impatient young man shifting his weight from one foot to the other. All of fifteen years old, he was wearing a pair of hideous black baggy pants and a black T-shirt and sporting an earring in one ear.

  “Internet crimes would be in aisle three unl
ess you want fictional Internet crimes.”

  “Real crimes. I want to see how to outsmart the cops.”

  “I hope you aren’t serious.”

  “Why?” he demanded with a scowl.

  “Never mind. Is there something specific I can help you find?”

  “No.” The wannabe hoodlum sauntered away.

  “Are you gonna call the cops or should I?” Miss Maynard demanded.

  “The police won’t be necessary, Miss Maynard. I’ll speak to Mr. Peters. Would you like someone to walk you to your car?”

  “Yes, thank you, Miss Mason. A body can’t be too careful in this day and age. Horrible things have been happening right under our noses. Why the police can’t solve these crimes is beyond me.”

  “Yes, I agree it’s terrible.” She lifted a hand to attract Wendy’s attention. “Wendy, would you walk Miss Maynard to her car?”

  Looking puzzled as she approached, Wendy nodded. “Sure.”

  Giving Wendy a sidelong glance, Miss Maynard scowled. “Y’all don’t look like you’d be much help.”

  Wendy pulled a thin can from the pocket of her smock. “Don’t worry, I’m armed with mace.”

  Miss Maynard’s eyes lit up. “Where can I get some?”

  “The police surplus store in Covington. It’s just past the second stoplight on Lafayette Boulevard.”

  The two women walked outside. As they exited, Shelby was surprised to see Coral Travis enter.

  Coral wasn’t a library regular. Her reading tastes ran more toward glossy gossip magazines than novels. A stunning blonde with shoulder-length hair, she wore it styled to look artfully casual. Dressed today in a pale-blue linen suit jacket over a matching snug skirt with a slit halfway up one thigh, she managed to look cool and businesslike while maintaining an underlying impression of sensuality. The dark glasses she wore added to her air of mystery.

  Why had she lied about her involvement with Patrick ten years ago? Perhaps now was the time to find out.

  Giving the woman a brief nod of recognition, Shelby walked toward her. “What can I help you with, Coral?”

  Pulling her sunglasses from her face, Coral looked around. “Is there someplace we can speak in private?”