“I’m sorry,” Powers said. “I tried to maintain confidentiality, but when you came in the other night to report being shot at, and then your name turned up on the P.I.’s list, I had to explain the background to the patrol sergeant.”
Dan nodded. “It’s all right. I didn’t exactly hide what I was doing.”
Powers pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyelids. “I don’t like this business, Ryan. You’ll get to Maine and not want to come back.”
“Oh, come on, I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“You’ve never been in love before, at least not when I was your supervisor.”
Dan smiled. It was probably a lopsided, silly smile. He couldn’t help it. Things were happening at the speed of light, but nothing could keep him from Laurel’s side as she faced her ordeal.
“You know I’m going, no matter what.”
“Yes, I know that. I think the best thing would be to give you a leave of absence.” Powers rummaged in his desk drawer and extracted a form, then consulted his calendar. “Let’s see …Twelve weeks ought to do it, don’t you think?
Dan stared at him. “Three months? Just like that?”
“Can you afford it?”
“I’ll manage, but ... if things are settled before then, can I come back early?”
“Absolutely. You can have your vacation pay in advance.” Powers signed his name with a flourish. “I’ll send that upstairs right away. Do me a favor, Ryan. Get this out of your system. Come back ready to work.”
*****
Once again Laurel went through the unpacking routine. It seemed pointless to hang her clothes in the closet. But this time there was a difference. She was hanging them in Dan’s closet.
She arranged her few dresses and blouses carefully. She could hear Dan in the living room, moving things around so she could have a place to work on her computer. His police uniforms hung next to her clothes, and she touched the nearest shirt gingerly. She knew Dan loved his job, but he was leaving it for her.
“I think you’re all set,” he said from the doorway, and she shut the closet door and turned to face him.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to connect the computer.”
He shrugged. “It will give you something to do while I finish out the work week.”
“Do you think …” She hesitated, not wanting to ask the same questions over and over.
“Judy will be here in an hour. Jessica’s bringing her in an unmarked car.”
She nodded. “Good. I don’t want anyone seeing her car. Not now.”
Dan stepped toward her. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll stay at Judy’s in case anyone tries to break in there again.”
Laurel knew it was a real possibility. The house swap had seemed logical when Dan suggested it. She and Judy would stay together at his little rental, and Dan would sleep at Judy’s home until Friday, when his vacation period would start. Then the two of them would head for Maine, and Judy’s sister would arrive to stay with her. Judy could move back into her house with some assurance of safety, since the garage door had been repaired and she had contracted for a security system. Jessica had promised to keep an eye on her, just to be sure.
“Anything else I can do?” Dan asked.
“I don’t think so.” Laurel took the few remaining items from her duffel bag. She set her cosmetic bag on the dresser and looked down at the framed photograph in her hand.
“Is that Bob?”
“Both of us.”
“May I?” he asked reverently.
She held the frame out, watching Dan’s face. He studied the picture for a long moment.
“You look happy.”
She swallowed hard. “We were.” She leaned closer and stared at herself in the photograph. She looked young. Carefree.
“You’re more beautiful now,” Dan said softly. He reached out to stroke her hair, and she closed her eyes, enjoying his touch for a second. If she leaned toward him, he would fold her in his arms. She smiled at him and stepped away. It would be too easy to try to make things happen her own way and not wait for God’s leading.
Dan set the frame on the dresser. “You need to hire me as your private investigator. Hight’s orders.”
“All right. What’s your fee?”
“A penny a year.”
They both laughed.
“What did he tell you about his meeting with the D.A.?” she asked.
“The state is looking at the bridge project Bob was last overseeing.”
“The Maple Grove bridge?”
“Yes. Something about the materials. Hight faxed me some documents at the police station, but I haven’t had time to look at them yet.” He stepped toward her once more and raised her chin so that she looked into his eyes. “I would never let you go back alone.”
She caught his hand and squeezed it, then moved back, fighting tears. “How can you do this?”
“I told you, vacation. I’ve been saving it. Didn’t know what for.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to continue this line of conversation. “We’d better get you something to eat.”
“Sounds good. I picked up a few groceries.” He took her into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “I guess there’s no one you can stay with in Maine?”
She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone.”
“The state doesn’t pay to put up defendants, eh?”
“Not unless they house them at the jail.”
“Well, we’ll work something out.” She wondered if he’d gone through the same mental exercise she had, counting his savings and ticking off his credit card limits. It would be expensive to put two of them up in a hotel for several weeks. Maybe Jim Hight would have some ideas.
Dan arranged a packaged steak and an assortment of salad vegetables on the counter. “Think you can sleep in another strange bed tonight?”
“I’ll be all right once Judy’s here.”
“Good. Just don’t lie awake thinking about the case.”
“But I need to think about it, Dan. I even took that picture out of the frame to see if there was anything behind it, but there wasn’t.” She frowned in frustration. “They think there’s something significant, you said.”
“Seems that way.”
“Then it has to be something I had before I went to jail. Something Bob had access to.” She shook her head, wishing she could clear her mind of all the details that didn’t matter and home in on what was important. “I went through all my things again, but nothing jumped out at me.”
She began making a salad while Dan placed a frying pan on the stove. He turned toward her. “So, tell me whatever you know about this bridge project.”
*****
Judy again volunteered to go through records with them. She curled up in an armchair, eagerly accepting the papers Dan gave her.
“You don’t have to spend your evening doing this,” Laurel said.
“It’s fun. Well, maybe not fun exactly, but it’s stimulating ... and I’m glad to be back with you two.”
“I missed you terribly. I’m glad your sister’s coming.”
“Thanks. My boss arranged a low-profile rental car for me for the rest of this week, and I’m taking some vacation time soon. My sister and I may take a trip together, to get away for a while.”
Laurel wished she could get away—away from her life. But that was impossible, so she took a report and skimmed it. “These are the specifications for the Maple Grove bridge.”
“Mean anything to you?” Dan asked.
“Not really. I know Bob was stressed over the project.”
“Why?”
She considered. “I think they’d cut it close on their bid.”
“Well, I told you a question’s arisen as to whether or not they actually used the specified materials.”
Judy laid down her sheaf of papers. “Why would this bridge thing make them send Laurel back to trial?”
“It wouldn’t, by itself.”
�
��There’s something else?”
“Well, yes.” Dan glanced at Laurel.
“They found new evidence against me?”
Dan hesitated. “They’re making a fuss about the civil suit.” He turned to Judy. “Laurel’s in-laws took just about everything she owned while Laurel was in jail.”
“She told me. I don’t see how they got away with it.”
Laurel shrugged. “Me either. Renata said she took back the things they had paid for.” It had baffled Laurel at the time, but she’d accepted it along with all the other injustices.
Judy shook her head. “She’s a thief.”
“I wasn’t in a position to make a stink about it.” Laurel toyed with the edge of the couch cushion.
“Those things were yours,” Dan said. “The house and furnishings should have been part of the estate.”
“My lawyer filed a motion of some sort, but a lot of things had already been sold, and apparently Wayne and Renata came up with receipts that showed they’d paid for it all. I never got a cent.”
“I can’t believe it,” Judy said in dismay.
“I walked out with my clothes, a few boxes of books and mementos, and my wedding ring. That was it.” Laurel sighed. “Maybe if I’d been less distraught, I could have put up a better fight.”
“Well, Jim Hight is still fighting for you,” Dan assured her. “He told me last night that the civil suit will come up soon, and he still hopes to reach a cash settlement in your favor, even if you can’t get the things back.”
Laurel nodded. “The things themselves didn’t mean that much. I’d have gladly given up the house and furniture to have Bob alive.”
Dan squeezed her hand.
Judy stood up. “Let’s have dessert.” She stopped in the kitchen doorway and looked back at Laurel. “You have the right to feel that way, honey, but I hope Bob Hatcher was the man you think he was.”
*****
When they were alone, Dan chose his words carefully.
“Laurel, I’ve got to tell you, the Hatchers are saying this civil suit proves you cared more about Bob’s things than you did about him.” Her stricken look got to him, and he said hastily, “Jim knows that’s crazy. He figures it will backfire, and show how hateful they were to you.”
Laurel shuddered. “It’s just like Renata. She wants to see me imprisoned for life.”
She was still frightened. Dan didn’t blame her—it scared him, too. His bravado was tested when he considered what the Hatchers and the criminal justice system had already done to Laurel. “Well, we hope things will go better this time, right?”
She managed a smile.
Judy came back with a tray of cookies and lemonade. “Do you know yet when you’re leaving for Maine?”
“Saturday,” Dan said. “That is, if Laurel’s willing. I got a leave of absence. Three weeks before the trial, twelve weeks total.”
“Twelve weeks? Dan, really?” Laurel asked.
“Yes. If I don’t need it all, I’ll come back early.”
Laurel’s lip trembled. “Thank you.”
They discussed the case for a few minutes longer while they ate the cookies, then Dan looked at his watch. “I’d better get going. I told my folks I’d drive out there tonight.”
“I thought you were staying at my place,” Judy said.
“I am, but I need to let them know what’s going on.”
Dan drew Laurel into the entry, where his suitcase waited.
“We’ll get through this with God’s help,” he whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders.
Her eyes were luminous. “I want to believe that.”
The moment seemed perfect, so he bent down and brushed her lips with his. It jolted him to the core and he drew her closer when she slipped her hands around him. He realized he was prolonging the embrace beyond his intention, but he couldn’t help lingering.
When she pulled away, he held on to her. His heart would break if they lost the trial.
“Laurel, when it’s over—”
She caught her breath. “Danny, I can’t talk about that yet. You know I can’t.”
She was right, of course, and now was not the time to let his feelings run wild. She needed his professional skills and he needed to remember to be cautious.
She pushed gently away from him. “I can’t have you thinking things are settled when they’re not. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.”
He took a deep breath. “You’re right. You’re innocent, Laurel. I believe God will honor that.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “I hope so, but I could be in jail for more than twenty years.”
“If that happens, I’ll be here for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be foolish. If it does happen, you need to go on with things, have a family. If you wait until you’re fifty, you’re miss the best part of your life.”
“Laurel, you’re the best part of my life.”
She pushed away from him. “Please don’t say any more. Not now. I knew this would be too hard.” She turned and walked quickly from the room.
Dan felt like kicking himself. He’d been stupid to let his emotions spiral out of control like that, when she was agonizing over this thing. He needed to be strong for her. Levelheaded. Logical. He left quietly, locking the door behind him.
Chapter 11
Dan faced off with his parents across the kitchen table.
“Dad ... Mom, you have to realize that Laurel is innocent.”
“Of course she is,” his mother retorted. “My son wouldn’t devote his life to a dangerous, conniving woman.”
Dan smiled. His mother’s heart was boundless. He’d seen it when his brother Owen chose his bride. Marissa was as dear to her as her own children now.
“A hung jury, son.” Caution edged his father’s voice. “That’s not so good.”
“That’s why we’ve been working so hard to uncover something new that will help her.”
“Find anything yet?” His father’s large hands closed around his coffee mug.
“I can outline the case for you,” Dan offered.
Michael nodded. He was a cabinetmaker, and he knew the value of detail work.
“Well, you can excuse me,” Kathryn said. “I’ll be making pies for Monday. You are bringing that poor little thing to meet us and have supper, aren’t you, Daniel?”
“I’m afraid not, Mom. You’ll have to wait a few weeks to meet Laurel. We’ll be heading for Maine Saturday.”
“Already?”
“Yes. Her lawyer thinks I can help him with the investigation between now and the trial. I’ll let you know where we’re staying.”
“You tell her we’re behind her, you understand?”
Dan smiled. “Of course, Mom. Should I tell Becky and the boys?”
“We’ll fill them in if you want,” Michael said. “There won’t be any embarrassing moments for her in this house.”
“Thank you.” Relief surged over Dan. He ought to have come home sooner and told them. Owen’s willingness to help had been an indication of how the rest of the family would feel. The people he trusted most would share the load, and he couldn’t ask for anything more than that.
“Come on.” His father rose with his mug in his hand. “I’ll show you what I’m working on.”
Dan followed him out the back door, into his workshop. His father had remodeled the old carriage house. His workbenches lined two walls. The place smelled of cedar shavings and pine, with a whiff of turpentine. Dan loved the shop where his father crafted beautiful furniture.
“This is a special order,” Michael said, running his hand over the smooth top of a dry sink. “Just need to put the hardware on.”
Dan always wondered at his father’s humility. He took pride in his superior work, but was self-effacing as an artist. He’d always taught the boys to do their best and give God the glory for any talent they had.
“This girl, son.” Michael turned toward him, his eyes as somber as Dan’s.
“What will you do if things don’t go her way in the courtroom?”
Dan took a deep breath. “She won’t promise me anything until the trial is over.”
Michael nodded. “That’s as it should be.”
“Yes. But I love her, Dad.”
“Have you told her that?”
“Not in so many words. She ... thinks we should go slow until the verdict is in.”
Michael’s features softened. “She’s right, you know, Danny.”
Dan nodded, though his heart was torn. “I want to do things right, Dad. But she’s innocent. I’m going to support her through this.”
His father studied him intently. “And if she’s found guilty?”
Dan sighed and picked up a chisel, examining the keen edge. “She’ll still be innocent.”
“Ah, boy, you always were stubborn.”
“What’s the difference between stubborn and loyal?” Dan asked.
“I recall that girl you were going around with a while ago. Ashleigh.”
“This isn’t like that, Dad.” Dan inhaled deeply and started over. “Ashleigh needed a different kind of help. She needed Christ, but she wouldn’t accept that. Laurel is a believer. Her faith is true, even though she’s been through an ordeal worse than we can imagine. She told me ... she told me God will be with her, no matter how this turns out. And I want to be there, too.”
“We’ll pray about this, your mother and I.” His father clasped his shoulder with a strong hand. “And Laurel is right. God will uphold you, son. Through the good and the bad. Now, what type of chest shall I be making for her?”
Dan smiled then. His father made beautiful blanket chests for his daughters-in-law. Marissa’s was walnut, delicately inlaid with half a dozen different woods of varying shades. Penny’s was cedar, with an intricate floral design hand-carved on the lid.
“Can you get laurel wood, Dad?”
Michael shrugged. “I can get any wood. Different kinds of trees are called laurel, though. Cherry laurel, sassafras. Cinnamon, even.”
“You pick something,” Dan said.
“I will. And you bring her back here, son. She’ll have a home and a family here.”
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