by Jeff Shelby
“I think you have some explaining to do,” Gunnar told him.
Wyatt paled but said nothing.
I crouched next to Jill. Her blonde hair was spilled out around her, hiding her face from view.
“Jill.” I tapped her shoulder. “You need to talk to us.”
Her voice was muffled. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!”
I tugged on her arm and she managed to pull herself into a sitting position.
Luke reappeared in the doorway, holding a broom and a roll of paper towels. He surveyed the scene in front of him. “Do I even want to know what is going on?”
Jill glanced in his direction with tear-filled eyes before turning back to me. “He needed a place to store his stuff for a couple of days,” she said, hiccupping. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
“Your boyfriend asked you to store his drugs and you thought that would be okay?” Gunnar asked her.
When she didn’t respond, he shook his head in disgust.
Wyatt tried to make himself smaller, his entire body sagging.
It was a stupid thing to do, no doubt, but something wasn’t adding up. A guy called in the tip to the sheriff’s office; that’s what Sheriff Lewis had said, anyway. Did that mean Wyatt called on himself? What would that accomplish? I thought about what he’d just said to Jill, that he’d accidentally given the wrong address.
“You’re not telling the truth,” I said to Jill.
She scowled. “What do you mean, I’m not telling you the truth? I just told you who the drugs belonged to, didn’t I?”
“Why did he call it in?” I asked. “And whose address was he supposed to give?”
She averted her eyes.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” I said. “And you think I’m getting in the way of your parents getting back together.”
Jill stayed quiet.
That was it. I knew I was right.
“You were trying to frame me, weren’t you?” I asked quietly.
She looked up with hate-filled eyes. “My parents belong together,” she said. Her voice was like steel. “And I knew you’d be in the way. Dad told me all about Thanksgiving and what happened, but I knew he still cared about you. I had to make sure there was no way you could reconcile.”
“Tell me what you did.” I was surprised at how calm I sounded.
She let out a deep breath. “I knew Wyatt needed to keep his stuff here for a couple of days. The cops were breathing down his neck so he just needed to chill and not worry about anyone finding his stash. And I thought I could plant a little of it over at your house, just enough so that you’d get in trouble and get out of the picture.”
“Did you?” I asked. “Plant some of it on my property?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “In your barn. In one of the empty feed sacks.”
I shook my head. The feed sacks were where the mice scurried away from. And Sheriff Lewis was deathly afraid of mice, which had prevented him from searching anywhere near them.
“So what happened?”
She jerked a thumb in Wyatt’s direction. “I told him what I was doing, and told him to call in the tip to the sheriff. Except he gave the wrong address.”
“You shoulda been more clear,” Wyatt said, still staring at the ground, most likely wishing he was anywhere else.
If I hadn’t been so upset about what had happened, I would have marveled at the level of ineptitude in all parties involved. Wyatt had given the wrong address, supplying Gunnar’s instead of mine, but the sheriff had still searched my property anyway. Because he was Sheriff Lewis.
And even still, he hadn’t managed to find the drugs she’d hidden in my barn. Because he was Sheriff Lewis.
“Jill.” Gunnar’s voice was stern.
Her face crumpled and she started to cry again. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean for anything to happen to you. I love you. And I just…I want you and Mom to be happy. Together.”
“That isn’t happening,” he said flatly.
“Are you angry with me?” she asked in a small voice. “Do you still love me?”
“I’ll always love you, Jill.” His tone was gruff. “But it’s high time you take responsibility for your actions.” He looked at Wyatt. “Both of you.”
Wyatt snapped out of his hang-dog stance, and looked like a rabbit ready to run. Luke must've noticed this and he moved in behind him, preventing Wyatt from taking off down the front porch steps.
I leaned back, moving from a couch to a sitting position on the floor. “What do we do now?” I asked Gunnar. I wasn’t making any decisions; those were his to make. And even though he’d just said he thought it was time for Jill to start owning up to her actions, I didn’t know how he would define that.
His expression was grim. “There’s only one thing we can do,” he said. “Call the sheriff.”
THIRTY EIGHT
Sheriff Lewis pulled up fifteen minutes later. I was standing outside on the front porch, letting the cold wind cool me down. I felt like I’d just run a marathon.
I watched as the sheriff stepped out of his vehicle. One of the back windows to his squad car looked like it was rolled down and I wondered if he too was trying to cool off. Probably excited about the newest development in the case.
He sauntered across the driveway, hitching up his khakis as he walked.
“You followin’ me around?” he asked when he saw me on the porch. Gunnar had been the one to call him.
“Nope,” I told him.
He harrumphed.
Gunnar stepped out of the house. He held out his hand to the sheriff and they shook.
“Thanks for coming,” Gunnar said to him. He sighed. “It was a hard phone call for me to make.”
The sheriff’s brow wrinkled. “You said you had some new information regarding the case?”
Gunnar nodded. “A confession, actually.”
The sheriff perked up. “From her?” he asked, jabbing his thumb in my direction.
I opened my mouth to protest but Gunnar put his hand on my arm. “No, not her. Someone else.”
“Hmm,” the sheriff said.
There was a moment of silence.
“Don’t you want to know what we found out?” I finally asked.
The sheriff scratched his head. “Well, see…there’s been a bit of a development in the case.”
“A development?” I repeated.
He gave a brief nod.
“What kind of development?”
Sheriff Lewis wouldn’t look at me. He scratched his head, his eyes focused on a crack in the pavement. “Well, it appears we no longer have a case.”
Gunnar and I exchanged looks.
“What? How?” I asked.
The sheriff’s moustache twitched. “The evidence has, uh, disappeared.”
“The evidence?” I stared at him. “You mean the drugs?”
He nodded.
“I’m not following,” I said. I knew there were specific protocols to follow when cataloging evidence.
“Well, see, I wasn’t planning on working on this case until after Christmas,” he explained. “Like I told you, I wanted to have a nice peaceful holiday. For everyone,” he added.
“Yeah, you said that,” I said. “What does that have to do with the evidence?”
He grabbed for his pipe and shoved it into his mouth, working it to the side.
“It’s missing,” he said bluntly.
“Missing?” I echoed.
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Stolen, actually.”
“Someone broke into your office?” I didn’t know where he would store evidence collected from crime scenes, but I figured it was somewhere in that building.
He looked a little sheepish. “Not exactly. From the car.” He motioned toward the sedan parked in the driveway. “Someone smashed the window and took it.”
So the window wasn’t rolled down, but broken.
I stared at him, incredulous. “You left the marijuana in t
he back seat?”
He nodded.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
Of course he’d left bricks of marijuana fully in view in the back seat of his sedan.
Because he was Sheriff Lewis.
“So where does this leave us?” Gunnar asked.
The sheriff stroked his moustache. “Well, I reckon this leaves us with no case.”
I shook my head. This was unbelievable.
“So everyone just walks?” I asked. “Gets off scot free?”
“Sure looks that way.” The sheriff eyeballed me. “Unless you want to give me a confession. That would be admissible in court.”
I rolled my eyes. “It was not me. I’ve already told you that. Gunnar has already told you that.”
Sheriff Lewis gave me a look that told me exactly what he thought. He didn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth.
“I do not have a confession to make,” I told him firmly. I looked at Gunnar. “Do you know of anyone who would like to confess now, given the circumstances?”
Gunnar hesitated. I knew what he was thinking. He wanted Jill to take responsibility for what she’d done, but he also saw this for what it was: a second chance. She’d made a stupid decision, but it wouldn’t have to haunt her for the rest of her life.
He took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “I guess I don’t.”
The sheriff nodded. “Well, then, I guess we’re done here.” He looked at me and for once, his expression wasn’t one of disdain. “Sure like that fudge you dropped off. Where’d you say you got it from?”
“I made it.”
His brow wrinkled. “You? You can cook?”
“I can do lots of things, Sheriff Lewis,” I told him.
“Hmm.” He harrumphed again and patted his belly. “Well, if you have any more of that, you can send it my way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tipped his hat and returned to his car. A minute later, he’d started the engine and turned out of the driveway, heading back toward Winslow.
“Well, I guess that worked out pretty well,” I said.
Gunnar’s eyes were focused on the retreating taillights of the squad car. “I guess.”
“I’m sorry about what happened,” I said. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t think Jill is a bad kid. Her actions were misplaced, but she did it for something she thought was a good reason.”
“And now there won’t be any consequences.” There was a thread of disappointment in his voice.
“You can make some,” I said.
“I suppose. When I go back in there, I'm sitting down with both of them. And I'll try not to kill them both.”
“Yes. Please try not kill either of them.”
“And then I'll need to explain everything to Lucy,” he said. “And figure out what the heck is going on with her and the house.” He sighed. “Nothing's ever easy.”
I nodded. “No, sometimes things are not easy.”
The sun disappeared behind the clouds and a shiver ran down my spine.
“You cold?” he asked.
I nodded again.
He put an arm around me. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, but emotions flooded me. His scent washed over me, and his arm felt so familiar that I couldn’t help but nestle myself against his side.
“I really screwed things up, didn’t I?” he whispered against my hair.
I didn’t respond.
“Thank you for sticking by me through all of this. As a friend,” he added.
I turned so I could look at him.
“I had a good role model,” I said. “You.”
It was true. Despite everything that had happened between us, his friendship had never faltered. And that meant everything to me.
A smile blossomed on his lips and I didn’t stop to think when he leaned in and touched his lips to mine. His mouth was warm and gentle, and for that moment, everything in my world felt one hundred percent right.
THIRTY NINE
“There is no family time, is there?” Luke asked
We were walking back to our house. The kiss I’d shared with Gunnar was still heavy in my mind.
“What?”
“Family time,” he repeated. “Please tell me there is no family time.”
I smiled. “There is not.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did you know all along that it was Jill?”
I shook my head. “No. I honestly thought it might be Lucy, his ex-wife.”
She had shown up immediately after Gunnar had called Sheriff Lewis, and became quite distraught when she found out about what Jill had done. Anyone could see that she was just as surprised as Gunnar that their daughter had been responsible for what had happened. I still had my reservations about her—after all, she’d moved into Gunnar’s house under false pretenses—but I didn’t think she had any ulterior motives.
“So no family time. But there are still gonna be tongue tacos,” he reminded me.
I made a face. “I’m not eating those.”
“Me, either.” He looked at me hopefully. “Maybe we can go into town and grab a burger at the place you’re always talking about?”
I thought about the burger I’d left uneaten at the Wicked Wich earlier that day. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Because if I have to eat tongue tacos, I will vomit.” Luke shuddered. “And I’ll make sure I do it right on Connor.”
I chuckled. “Let’s avoid vomiting at all costs, okay?”
“Deal.”
My phone started buzzing the minute we got to our driveway. I pulled it out and my heart did a little flip flop when I saw the name on the screen.
Declan.
My stomach dropped.
“You go on ahead,” I urged Luke. I held up my phone. “I need to answer this.”
He frowned. “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?”
I shook my head and he just shrugged in response and jogged the rest of the way to the house.
I took a deep breath and swiped to accept the call.
“Hey, beautiful.”
My mouth was dry but I forced out a response. “Hey there.”
“I was hoping you might stop by today,” Declan said. “Guess the day got away from you, huh?”
I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “Yeah.” My voice croaked, and I coughed, trying to clear it.
“Is everything okay? You’re not getting sick again, are you?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine—far from it—but I hoped I could convince him otherwise.
There was a pause. “Look, I know things are crazy busy right now, but I really need to talk to you,” he said. “Is there any chance you can swing by? Or I can come to you, if that’s easier.”
I pulled my jacket tighter. “I’m not sure tonight is a good night.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was a complete wreck, that I no longer knew what I wanted, that I was as confused as I’d ever been, in all of the years I’d lived.
He sighed. “I really didn’t want to talk about this over the phone. I wanted to do it in person.”
A little warning bell sounded in my head. “Talk about what?” I asked cautiously.
“I got a phone call last week,” he said slowly.
I waited.
“It was when you weren’t feeling good, so I didn’t want to bother you. And things have been so busy at church with the holidays and then your family came early—”
“What was the phone call about?”
“It was from the diocese.”
My breath caught in my throat. “And?”
“There’s a position overseas, working with a new church. In Brazil.”
I didn’t respond.
“Rainy?”
Silence.
“Rainy, are you there?”
“I’m here,” I said faintly.
“I…I haven’t given them an answer yet,” he said. “Because I wanted to tal
k to you first.”
“To me?”
“It’s a big decision,” he said. “A life-changing one. And, well, you’re a part of my life.”
He had completely blindsided me. “It’s not my decision to make,” I told him.
“I know,” he said. “But I want to know what you think.”
I tried to slow down my racing pulse. “Is it something you want to do?”
He was quiet for a minute, to the point where I wondered if he’d planned on responding.
“I’ve always wanted to do missions,” he said. “Travel the world and help people, leave a place better than it was before.”
This did not come as a surprise to me.
“But when I pictured it, I never pictured going alone. I always saw someone by my side.” There was an audible swallow. “And lately, the person I’ve pictured next to me is you.”
“Me?” My mouth went dry.
“Is that something you could see yourself doing?” he asked. “Maybe not now, but someday?”
I’d reached my front porch and I sank down on the first step. The air was cold, and the wind was biting at every inch of exposed skin, but I barely felt any of it. I was overwhelmed. Was Declan asking me to go with him on a mission?
Up until that moment, I hadn’t even known this was something Declan was considering. I didn’t know he wanted to travel the world. In fact, I realized, I didn’t know much about him at all.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked suddenly.
“What?”
“Your favorite color.”
“I don’t know.” His voice registered his confusion. “Green, I guess. Why?”
“Where were you born?”
“Lancaster. Pennsylvania.” He paused. “Rainy?”
“Do you like to stay up late? Do you like sushi?” I knew I was firing off questions in rapid succession, but I didn’t care. I needed answers. “Brussel sprouts?”
“What are you doing?” Declan asked. “Why are you asking me all of these questions?”
I was asking questions because the thoughts I’d had earlier returned full force.
And I realized something.
I’d struggled to find a Christmas gift for Declan because I didn’t really know him. Sure, we were friends and we connected on a lot of different levels, but what did I really know about him? I didn’t know his likes or dislikes, his habits, his dreams.