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Joey had immediately owned up to every one of his crimes in the past. It was as if he took pride in them. Why hadn’t he admitted to this one too?
Jenny hadn’t spoken to her younger brother since his arrest and her arrival back in town. In fact, she hadn't seen him at all in at least two years. Visiting him now in his jail cell had just seemed unnecessary.
But Roy's words struck a raw nerve in her, and she wanted to know what he had meant by “rumors.”
Jenny took one last look over her shoulder before rushing after him.
Chapter 7
Roy knew she would hear him eventually. The Dales were a stubborn bunch, but they were reasonable.
He pushed on through the cemetery in long strides, refusing to stop and wait for her to catch up, and she didn't call out for him to stop. Instead, she followed quickly behind. He could hear her heels clicking on the gravel path as he cut a straight course toward the cemetery gate.
“Hey!”
Roy heard her call out to him as he pulled the wooden gate forward, but he wasn’t going to give in just yet. He hurried through and let the door swing shut behind him. A devious smile crossed his face when he heard her muffled curses beyond the gate.
“Hey!” she repeated, this time louder, her frustration obvious.
Finally catching up to him, her hand found the shoulder of his army jacket and pulled him roughly back around to face her. He shrugged out of her grasp and took a step back from her.
“Whatever can I do for you?” he said with an annoying smirk.
Jenny rested her hands on her hips as she paused to catch her breath. This was probably more exercise than she ever had in New York, and the heels didn’t help.
“Okay, okay.”
She held up her hands in mock defeat as she fought to regain her breath.
“You've got my attention.”
“Really?”
Roy raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he stared her down. He had expected another fight, not her willingness to hear him out.
“I doubt anything could change your mind when it concerns your brother.”
She rolled her eyes in frustration.
“Oh, come off it. You had something to say. Now say it. I’m listening.”
Jenny was struggling to catch her breath so he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.
“You okay there kid? Need me to call a paramedic? You aren’t going to pass out, are you?”
“Very funny.”
Annoyed, she knocked his hand away, but Roy didn’t miss the unmistakable smile that accompanied her gesture.
“I'm not that out of shape.”
“You could have fooled me. You're as white as a sheet.”
“Ugh, it’s been a while since I attended my last hot yoga class, okay?”
“I don't even know what that is. Hot yoga?”
Roy shook his head at the absurdity.
“Don’t judge. It can be very relaxing.”
“I’ll take your word for it, honey,” Roy teased.
“That’s fine. You just live your angry life and continue to hate everyone and everything.”
“I never told you that I hate everything. I am rather angry though. For good reason.”
“Yeah, I gathered.”
Roy found he liked sparring with Jenny. And even though she had a completely different outlook on life, he found her oddly attractive. She amused him.
“What rumors?” she asked, hoping to move the conversation along.
“I'm not going to tell you here. It's too out in the open.”
Jenny furrowed her brow.
“This is going to be very secretive, isn't it? How about I just meet you in a trench coat and a fedora an hour from now in some old lady's garden, and we talk this one out in code?”
Roy raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Do you know code?”
“Does S-O-S count?”
He laughed.
“Tell you what, I'll come to your house later. I know you want to get on to the wake, so I won't keep you any longer.”
He paused for a moment.
“I'm glad you've come to your senses.”
“I only agreed to listen. I’m not making any promises,” she said as she turned back toward the graveyard. “You better bring your A-game, Peters.”
* * *
That evening, Jenny had an easy time excusing herself from the wake.
Although the crowd was small, the group had managed to keep going for a solid, two hours. Norma was the perfect hostess, bringing in fresh plates and refreshing glasses like a seasoned hostess.
Isabelle had become the elderly woman's helper, bringing trays back into the kitchen or running out with fresh napkins. As Jenny watched her dart back and forth in her black dress, she could see it did the little girl some good to keep busy in a familiar place.
Jenny spent time talking to the visitors at the wake, but she had a general impression that not everyone thought she should be there. No one went so far as to bluntly tell her so, but the way their eyes cast over her as she moved about the room, and their stifled talk when she arrived mid-conversation gave it away.
Catching Norma between duties, she took her arm.
“Norma, I'm going to head back over to the house.”
“Oh, dear, are you sure?”
Norma had shown her nothing but kindness since she’d arrived back in town, but Jenny could sense it was awkward having her around.
She forced a polite smile.
“I'll just walk back. I can take Isabelle with me.”
“Oh no, dear, leave her be for now.”
Norma patted her arm kindly.
“It will do you some good to have some time to yourself. I'll walk her back when we are all finished up here.”
“Are you sure that's not an inconvenience?” Jenny asked. “I mean, you've been so generous. You probably want to put your feet up and relax, too.”
Norma suddenly looked pained, and Jenny feared she may have accidentally upset her.
“When I had my bad spell two or three years ago, Chloe helped me out with whatever I needed. She even came ‘round and cared for my tomato crop, although that poor girl never did have much of a green thumb when it came to tending to vegetables.”
Norma smiled, tears catching in her eyes.
“Today was the least I could do to honor such a thoughtful woman. I'll walk Isabelle back later on. It's no problem for me. It feels like having a grandchild around.”
“Well, if you're sure.”
Jenny didn't know what came over her, but she drew Norma into a tight hug.
“Thank you for everything, Norma. You really are a Godsend.”
“Thank you, dear. Now, go on with you.”
Jenny quickly gathered up her sweater and purse. She let out a sigh of relief when she closed the living room door behind her, and she suspected their were a few sighs in the room she just left. It must have been uncomfortable to be sharing space with the sister of the departed’s killer.
She was on the porch when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming around the side of the house from the road. Jenny looked up to see Chief Cartright approaching, this time without his officers in tow.
His face was drawn and he looked extremely angry. Jenny could see a new, purple bruise welling up on his right eye.
Before she could remark on his swelling eye, though, he began to unleash his attack.
“Miss Dale, you're still here, I see.”
“I was just heading out.”
“You better be,” he growled, his eyes dark with rage. “And you had better watch who you associate with.”
“Who?”
He laughed maliciously.
“Don't play the fool with me.”
Jenny was never one to back down from an attack, and she met his aggression with her own.
“I beg your pardon, Chief Cartright. I'm sure I have absolutely no idea what it is you’re going on about,” she said with her chin jutting ou
t in defiance. “But if this is how you talk to people, it really is no wonder that you have that shiner.”
This time, she really was frightened by him. He stepped even closer, his face only inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her face, and she despised every second of it.
“Roy Peters is nothing but a lying bastard looking for trouble.”
“Back away,” she told him with all the courage she could muster, “and leave me the hell alone.”
He snorted, stepping back enough to let his eyes coast up and down her frame. She crossed her arms across her chest, feeling violated by his cold, unrelenting stare.
“You city slickers don't know when to mind your own business. Why don't you just clear the hell out of here?”
He smirked.
“Your brother is going to rot in jail for what he did. The boys did a fine job taking a low life like that off the streets.”
“The “boys” need to work on improving their public relations tactics.”
Cartright stared at her a moment longer, his gaze intimidating and cold. Then he entered Norma’s house, slamming the door behind him.
Jenny rushed back to the Dale house. She had to admit she was unnerved. The Chief must have run into Roy at the grave site. Perhaps he had even eavesdropped on their conversation. One couldn’t talk to anyone about anything in this town without it becoming public knowledge.
Even if she was considering the idea of her brother's innocence, he had no right to attack her like he had.
Jenny hurried across the grass to get as far away from the wake as she possibly could. She glanced back once or twice to see if the chief was following. She wished Isabelle had returned home with her. The Chief would never have treated her so aggressively if a little girl had been at her side.
Roy Peters would be coming to the house soon, and that helped relax her a little.
Under different circumstances, she could have seen herself falling for the rugged, ex-cop. He did have a few endearing qualities, and there was no denying he was hot in a rough, manly sort of way. He was not the sort of man she was used to meeting in the city.
Jenny was pleasantly surprised to find Roy waiting at the back gate, his arms resting over the top of the wooden frame. He looked tired, and she had to admit this day had been a long one.
She smiled warmly as he unlatched the gate for her and let her into the back yard. The sun was just beginning to set, and the garden was lit by its dying rays. Bees danced along the top of the honeysuckle bush and crickets chirped in the farmer's field beyond.
“I'll make us some iced tea,” she said as she unlocked the back door of the home.
He followed her into the cool space, already more familiar with the home than she was.
“Did you come here often?” Jenny asked when she saw him place a finger on one of the photographs on the wall. She moved closer to make out the image, surprised to see that it was a snapshot of Joey and Roy, their arms around each other, big goofy grins plastered on their faces. They were in their Ombrea Police uniforms. Behind them was City Hall.
“Oh.”
“After I was let go from the service, I don't think Chloe wanted me around as much,” he admitted sadly, his eyes still firmly planted on the framed photograph. “I was bitter back then. I still am, but that first year or so took its toll on me. I don't think she thought I was a good influence on her kid, or Joey, for that matter.”
“Joey was never a good influence on anyone. I'm not sure you could have done any more damage where he was concerned.”
She saw a flash of anger on Roy's face and mentally prepared herself for another argument. The day had been long and exhausting, and she pined for a hot shower and a good cry. But if Roy wanted to have a go at her, she would find it in herself to fight.
No one knew her brother as well as she did. No one else had stayed up waiting for him to come home at night, praying that he hadn’t gotten himself in trouble again, praying that if he was out getting in trouble that at the very least he wasn’t getting caught.
No one else had to console their grandparents when he was arrested. No one else had to see the tired looks on their faces or the worried glances every time someone came to the front door.
That had been all her.
“He wasn't the best man in the world, but he had a good soul,” Roy said, crinkling his nose. “If that makes any sense.”
“He was a good husband and good father,” Jenny said. She didn't know if it were true but it seemed to relax Roy some.
He took a seat at the kitchen table while she set about making the iced tea. They didn’t speak. Roy stared out the back door at the dimly lit garden, his mind elsewhere.
When the tea was ready, he stood to help her carry the tray outside, waiting for her to take a seat before he set it down on the wooden picnic table. He poured them each a glass and then took a long gulp.
“Are you ever going to fill me in on these rumors?” Jenny asked him impatiently. “I feel like you’re giving me the run-around.”
He set down his empty glass. “There is no turning back once you know.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow as she looked across at him.
“How very mysterious of you.”
Roy chuckled.
“You know, you are not as much of a witch as I first thought you were.”
Jenny reached across and poured Roy a refill of iced tea before setting the jug back down on the table.
“I had a few words to describe you at first, too.”
“Oh, really? Only good ones though, right?”
“Oh, ya. Definitely,” she said laughing sarcastically. How does “pigheaded” sound?
“Pretty accurate,” he said laughing as he reached for his glass and took a swig.
“I thought so. Now, the rumors?.”
Roy’s expression darkened. She reached for her own glass feeling the need to hold onto something, anything for support.
Roy sighed deeply. He looked down at his legs for a moment and then out across the garden.
“I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. Really, I am.”
“Okay…”
Jenny waited until his eyes were on her again before she nodded.
“Just tell it to me straight. I'm a big girl. Four days ago I received a call that my brother had been arrested for the murder of his wife, my best friend, and I've been informed that I am now solely responsible for a child I barely know. At this point, I’d say nothing can phase me. Just get to the point.”
Roy nodded. “Did you know Chloe was having an affair?”
Jenny almost dropped her iced tea.
“You’re full of shit. Not Chloe.”
She shook her head at the absurdity of his claims.
“Chloe was the poster girl for morality. She would never have stepped out on Joey like that.”
Suddenly she remembered.
“Chief Cartright told me they were separated. Are you sure that's not what happened, she just started seeing someone after the separation?”
“You really don't want to see your best friend painted as an adulterer, do you?”
“No, I sure as hell don’t.”
Jenny set her glass back down on the table with a thud. It was no longer doing the job of keeping her hands steady.
“This can’t be true.”
“She was having an affair!”
Roy pushed on her again.
“Hell, they hadn't even made their separation official yet. Joey told me he was still living in the house. They were still sharing a bed.”
“You and my brother shared a lot.”
Jenny shook her head again.
“But this time you are entirely wrong.”
“I'm not wrong about this, you mark my words.”
Roy shook his finger at her, his temper rising.
“Maybe if you had taken an interest in your supposed best friend’s life and stopped in to visit once in a while, you would have been informed about the things that were going on i
n Chloe’s life.”
Jenny paused. She bit her lip as a wave of emotions threatened to overthrow her. He was right. Of course he was. She had always put her nose up in the air when it came to her hometown. If she had made more of an effort to visit Chloe and her family, maybe she would have seen more of what was going on. Instead, she got the Coles’ notes version. And she was more than satisfied with that. How could she have been so selfish.
Roy sighed deeply. “Look here, I didn't mean to upset you. That wasn't my intention.”
“No, no.”
She held up her hand to silence him.
“I'm okay, honestly. It's just a lot to take in, is all.”
He bowed his head.
“It's all true, you know,” he murmured. “It was the talk of the town. She started the affair, I’s say, about four months ago. Everyone was talking about it, but I don't think anyone had any idea who it was she was seeing. The grapevine is only so long”
“How did they know it was happening then?” Jenny asked.
“Everyone knew how Chloe and Joey were, I suppose, always fighting and bickering with each other. Next thing you know, he's still crabby and she's happy as a pig in muck.”
Jenny regarded him as he absentmindedly flicked a splinter off the old picnic table.
“Suddenly, she was different. She started wearing more skirts and dresses. Her hair and makeup were always done to the nines. She had a new confidence”
“That doesn’t sound like Chloe,” Jenny mused. “She was always trying to blend in. Then she met Joey and their relationship stood out like a sore thumb. It was a real case of opposites attracting.”
“If you ask for my opinion, I think it was her lover that murdered her.”
Jenny looked over at him. His face was partially shaded, in the falling sun. He looked downcast, beaten, and she wondered how he’d come to be so troubled. A part of her wanted to go to him, another part told her to hold back. So the pair of them sat in silence.
Her mind ran over the new information. She never thought Joey could be innocent. He was always guilty. To consider him innocent, set up even, was an entirely new idea. A challenge even.
“But who?” she asked finally. “Who would do such a thing?”