Second Time's the Charm

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Second Time's the Charm Page 24

by Tara Taylor Quinn


  “He’s got a criminal record, Lillie.”

  Sick to her stomach, Lillie wanted to grab Abraham and run. Far, far away.

  * * *

  TRAPPED BETWEEN FOUR walls with no freedom to leave weakened a man. Jon knew he’d be fine. He hadn’t done anything. They had no concrete evidence to tie him to the thefts. Richards had counted on Jon’s confession to seal his deal.

  Jon knew he’d be sleeping in his own bed that night.

  And the feelings of powerlessness swamped him, anyway. He hated that part the most—the emotions that would not be denied.

  It would only be a matter of time before the town pinned something else on him. He was labeled now.

  It was going to cost him to leave Shelter Valley. He’d owe the university a full semester’s worth of scholarship monies.

  He hoped to God that Richards didn’t find the cash he’d hidden in the bottom of the duffel. A dead cell phone shouldn’t be all that suspicious.

  If Richards even found the duffel. As thorough as the guy was, Jon figured he probably would. There wasn’t much Jon could do about it if he did. It didn’t look good—him having a bag packed as if he was planning to skip town—but it wasn’t enough to book him, either.

  As he sat there, playing the mental gymnastics that kept him sane, he heard a knock on the door.

  Richards must be back.

  A head peeked around the door.

  Addy?

  “Can I come in?”

  Jon nodded. “Of course.”

  Addy placed a thin black portfolio on the table and took the seat opposite Jon. The same seat Greg Richards had occupied for most of the late afternoon and evening.

  “Mark’s out in the lobby. They wouldn’t let him come back here.”

  “Who’s with Nonnie?”

  “No one. She’s texting Mark every five minutes asking for updates. And we’ve only been away from the house for ten.” Addy smiled.

  And surprisingly, so did Jon. He leaned forward. “I’m assuming they let you in because you’re an attorney.”

  Mark had told him that Richards had called Addy the night before. It struck him as odd that she’d be there.

  “Right,” she said, pulling a pen out of her purse and holding it with both hands. “I’m here to represent you.”

  “I haven’t been charged with anything.”

  “I know. And they can’t keep you here. Which is what I’m going to tell the sheriff as soon as he gets back.”

  “I can’t afford an attorney.” The spare cash, if he still had it, was for Abe. Jon had a scholarship to pay back.

  And he hoped to God he wasn’t going to need representation. Because that would mean that they’d charged him.

  “I wouldn’t take a fee if you tried to pay me,” Addy said. “And before you say anything else, let me just tell you that I don’t intend to take no for an answer.”

  Jon opened his mouth, ready to cut her off. He wasn’t a charity case.

  “That boy of your needs his father.”

  He shut his mouth.

  “And Mark and I know you didn’t do this, Jon.” She leaned in. “Please, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face here. Let me help you. If not for your sake, then for Abe’s.”

  “You and Richards are friends.”

  “We know each other,” Addy said. “And have mutual friends. I wouldn’t say we’re friends ourselves. And even if we were, I believe he’s wrong. My job is to show him that.”

  Jon, taking his first easy breath since he’d left Lillie’s office, said, “Do you think Richards is fair?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  “He’s on a witch hunt.”

  “He’s very protective of this town, and he’s determined to find out who did this. He’d be the first to tell you, if it’s not you, he wants to know it. Because if it’s not you, then it’s someone else who is still out there. He just wants the guy off the streets so the people of Shelter Valley feel safe again.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “I know that.”

  He wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Thinking of Addy with Abe in her arms, the way she greeted them at the door each time Jon dropped his son off at Mark’s house, he wanted to believe her.

  But...

  “How do you know?” It didn’t make sense to him. He could have done it. Easily. And left no concrete evidence. No way for Richards to pin the thefts on him. He didn’t doubt his ability for a moment.

  And neither did Richards. He’d seen Jon’s record.

  “I can’t answer that,” Addy said with a tilt of her head. “I just get a feeling. But I can tell you I’ve built my reputation on taking only those cases in which I believed the accused was innocent.”

  “What’s your win ratio?”

  “Ninety-eight percent.”

  Jon gave her a tired grin. “Not bad.”

  But she didn’t know the whole truth. And so Jon gave it to her. Because he had to get to Abe.

  “How many times have you committed a crime since you’ve been on your own?” was Addy’s only response.

  “None.”

  “So, are we a team?”

  He didn’t need a lawyer. Wasn’t planning to hang around long enough.

  But if she could help him get back to his son any sooner...

  “I’d appreciate any help you can give me,” Jon told her.

  He wasn’t a lucky man. But he was a smart one.

  * * *

  THE SHERIFF HADN’T been gone five minutes, taking only the cell phone casing and the roll of cash with him, when Lillie’s phone vibrated again.

  Who now?

  It was nine o’clock and she was exhausted.

  Dropping down to the sofa, she glanced at the screen. She almost ended the call, and then didn’t.

  “Hello.”

  “Lillie?” Kirk’s relief couldn’t have been completely feigned. “I wasn’t sure you’d take my call.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “Look, Lil, you were right about what you said. Again. I guess I was just using you, taking the easy way out, on my quest for my own salvation.”

  If this was another ploy she was just too tired to see. Or even to care. Kirk lied. Jon lied.

  Greg hadn’t been able to give her specifics since Jon’s record was sealed, but he’d committed at least one crime in the past, for which he’d been convicted. “I’m glad you’re finding yourself, Kirk. I really am. But I meant what I said. I’m done with you.”

  She was. And it wasn’t even hard anymore. She just wanted him gone.

  And Jon?

  He’d lied to her, too. By omission.

  She hadn’t actually ever asked if he had a criminal record. And if his record was sealed, chances were whatever he’d done, he’d done as a kid...in foster care.

  “My father said he was going to disinherit me if I called you again, Lil, but―”

  “Hang up, Kirk. I won’t tell him you called.”

  “I’m not hanging up, Lil, because this call isn’t about me.”

  Her head ached. She just wanted to rest. To escape for a bit. “For once in my life I’m putting you first, Lil. Thinking about you only, not in terms of what you can do for me, but in terms of you and what you need. My father and I have a long way to go...but we’ve been talking. And we agree on one thing. The way I treated you, the things I did—they were reprehensible.

  “But even worse than the initial betrayals is the consequence of those betrayals. Please, Lil, don’t judge other people, other men, by me. I was spoiled and selfish and probably still am, but I mean what I’m saying more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. It’s not right that you’re spending your life alone.” />
  His words poured over her, not really penetrating. Just lying on top of her. Blocking off other sounds.

  “Some people are good on their own, maybe even meant to be that way. Maybe I’m one of them, but not you, Lil. You are a natural nurturer. I know what I’m talking about more than anyone else on this earth, Lil, because I lived with you. I’d go days without even being aware of you and yet you’d be there quietly making my day better, easier. You always knew when I had an important meeting and you’d make sure I had a good breakfast before I went, and gave me time to myself to prepare if I needed it. You seemed to know what I wanted without my ever having to say so. You just knew.

  “Because you take care of those you love instinctively.”

  Those she loved? What did she know about love? She’d thought she was falling for Jon. Had been certain of it, in fact. When he’d been hauled off to the police station that afternoon, and his gaze had met hers with a plea she couldn’t decipher, her heart had wrenched so badly she’d actually thought herself in love with him.

  She’d thought she’d known him.

  Obviously blinded by her affection for Jon’s son, she’d made Jon into something he was not.

  “I’m going to get on with my life, Lil. I’m going to try to patch things up with Leah. And certainly with Ely. But you, Lil, I can’t make right what I did to you. Except to beg you to not let my sins close off that generous heart of yours. Not for my sake but for yours. And for those who need you.”

  Whether Jon was guilty of the break-ins or not wasn’t even the issue anymore. He’d deliberately hidden part of himself from her. Something she’d deserved to know before entering into any kind of intimate relationship with him.

  “My father told me that you’d been seeing someone and that, yesterday after seeing you, he had a feeling you’d stopped. Please, Lil, don’t stop on my account. I’m not good enough for you and maybe this guy isn’t, either, but please don’t judge him by me.”

  Lillie hung up.

  She felt like shit.

  Like shit, but not shut down. Her heart was raw, aching.

  Over another man who’d misled her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  THERE WAS STILL a light on in the living room. Sheriff Richards had informed him, as Addy escorted him out of the police station, that Lillie was still at his house with Abraham.

  And then warned him not to go anywhere.

  They’d sent someone to a lab in Phoenix with the suction-cup print they’d taken from Lillie’s sliding glass doors to compare with prints taken after the break-ins. Richards had already made a visual match.

  As soon as they had an official match, they’d be pressing charges.

  Jon knew they weren’t going to have a match—if they ran legitimate tests.

  But as long as Richards was trying to pin the thefts on him, the real thief was not going to be caught.

  Not that he had to concern himself with anything except leaving town.

  The lights from Mark’s truck had long since faded away but Jon still stood on the sidewalk leading up to his place, eager to get inside to Abraham, to hear his son breathe and see for himself that he was okay.

  But he wasn’t ready to face Lillie.

  He had to go in.

  To be who he really was, not the man he’d tried so hard to be. The front door opened. “Jon?” Her voice was soft as she called out to him.

  By college standards it was still early—just past ten. Lights were on in the units on either side of his. He remembered asking the guys who shared the other side of his duplex to be quiet after eight at night.

  “Yeah.” His hands in his pockets, he took a step forward.

  “You coming in? It’s cold out there and you don’t have a jacket.”

  He hadn’t needed one when the sun had been up, warming the desert.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to leave the cool night air and sucked in another huge breath as he crossed the threshold into his temporary home.

  “I’ll need a ride to the truck,” he said. “You’ve got the keys.”

  He’d need them back, too.

  She nodded but didn’t move to get them. “I don’t think we should disturb Abraham right now,” she said, sounding as if they were back at the clinic and she knew what she was talking about.

  “Because of his tubes?” He’d missed the doctor’s debrief. Was Abe supposed to lie still for a period of time after the procedure to cut down on drainage? Or to keep the tubes from slipping?

  “No, I just don’t think it would be good for him to wake up. It’s been a weird day and he’s still coming down from anesthesia. He might cry. Or even have a tantrum and the pressure in his head wouldn’t be good for him.”

  Jon studied her, found it curious that she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  Maybe she was just afraid of him now that he was the main suspect in a string of burglaries.

  “I’d have thought you’d have been ready to get out of here as quickly as possible,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “I need an explanation and now’s as good a time as any.”

  He shrugged. It wasn’t as if he was going to sleep. “I need one, too.”

  He saw her shocked look, as if she found it incredulous that he figured he deserved something from her, and he turned away. “You planning to stay the night?” Because he wasn’t going to be trapped there without a vehicle.

  “I didn’t know when you’d be back so I stopped at my place for some things. I can sleep on the couch.”

  He glanced over at her. She looked away.

  Had the sheriff asked her to stay to keep an eye on him?

  He knew full well that Sheriff Richards would have a volunteer posse keeping an eye on his every move until those prints came back from Phoenix. Jon was certain of that.

  And considering that he thought Jon guilty, he would not have recommended that a woman spend the night in his home with him.

  “I’m going to check on Abe.” He had to see his son. Dressed in his favorite pair of race-car pajamas, the little boy was on his side, two fingers hanging out of his mouth.

  “I’ve got the monitor going,” Lillie whispered beside him, handing him his tablet. “I’ve been carrying it with me.”

  He’d shown her how to turn on the software the first night she’d stayed with him.

  He wanted to stay in the quiet room, listening to his son breathe. The small night-light under the crib gave the room an ethereal glow.

  Nothing bad was going to happen in that room.

  Unless he woke Abraham. He could have a tantrum like Lillie said. Or Abe might not want to go back to sleep.

  Jon could go to bed, too. Wish Lillie good-night and lock himself in his room. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere that night. He’d have to make his move early in the morning—when it would be safer to wake Abe.

  But he wanted answers. Had she known all along he was a convict? Was that why she’d hidden her fortune from him?

  Was she another Kate, toying with him?

  Try as he might, he couldn’t make the puzzle piece fit.

  He went to the kitchen. He still had more than half a bottle of the sparkling wine he’d bought a few days ago. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then.

  The stuff was flat. Jon didn’t really care. “You want a glass?” he asked Lillie, who was leaning against the corner of the wall leading into the kitchen, watching him.

  “I guess,” she said.

  Her hair was down but she hadn’t changed out of her scrubs. She always changed after work.

  Was she still considering herself on the job, then? Was that what Abe had become to her?

  Or was she just that upset?

  For a second, he saw Lillie as he’d seen her in the wait
ing room that afternoon. Saw a woman who was hurt and shy and needing someone to do things for her, instead of always being the one who was taking care of others.

  He took a seat at the small kitchen table. “I’m an ex-con.”

  “Sheriff Richards told me you had a record.”

  It was sealed. The sheriff had no business telling anyone. He’d probably been protecting Lillie and was willing to take whatever small punishment the court would mete out if Jon found out and pressed charges.

  She hadn’t accused him of anything. She was giving him this chance to explain. Which confused him.

  “I lived in the same foster home from the time I was born until I was twelve,” he said, deciding to give her the whole truth. “My foster mom was not a warm person. She was a decent caregiver, though. There were usually four of us at any given time, though I was the only one she kept long-term. She watched over all of us the same. She taught us values through example and expectation.”

  He’d been content. Thought he had a good life.

  “Just before my thirteenth birthday, she told me that she was getting married. She was already in her forties, and she wanted to try to have a child of her own so she was giving up foster care. The very next week I was gone.”

  “To another foster home?”

  “Three. I finally landed in one that already had two teenage boys—both older than I was. I heard my caseworker say that they thought the boys would take me under their wing. The house was not well supervised and the older guys were thugs.”

  Which was no excuse. Barbara had taught him well. He’d known the difference between right and wrong.

  But being the youngest and the newcomer hadn’t boded well for him. Not that the foster parents or his caseworker had noticed.

  And by then, after being shuffled around so many times, Jon hadn’t thought there was much point in complaining.

  So he’d done what he had to do to get along. And more, to belong.

  “They picked on you, didn’t they,” Lillie said after he’d told her a little bit about the two older boys, leaving out most of it.

 

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