Fifteen

Kate was sitting on a stool in the kitchen and she looked at the clock. Again. "How long have they been at it?"

"Two hours and ten minutes," Sara said. "Neither of them can take much more."

Behind them, coming through the open doors, was the pounding sound that Kate was beginning to recognize: leather hitting leather. Since they'd returned from Gena's house, Jack and Gil had been boxing. Or rather, Gil held the hand pads while Jack hit them.

For a while, Kate had watched them, but the anger on Jack's face had been too much for her. She remembered Sara saying that Jack's fights with his father had been sick making. Scary. Kate could believe it.

She'd left the men and gone to her bedroom to have a long telephone chat with her mother. She heavily sugarcoated it all. Yes, everything was fine. Yes, she was working, had already sold a house. Yes, she was still seeing Alastair Stewart. Nothing serious yet, but maybe. No, Sara hadn't thrown one of her temper tantrums. Yes, Kate had been thinking about moving into her own place.

After she got off the phone, Kate took a shower and left her rooms. Jack was still pounding away or clunking about on the stone pavers in his cast.

"Gil will make him stop," Sara said. "And it's not all boxing."

Kate had seen that Gil was ordering Jack to do sit-ups, push-ups, hobble fast on his crutches. Anything to burn off the energy from what he'd heard.

Abruptly, there was quiet, and moments later, Gil walked through the house. He was sweaty and exhausted. He started to speak but then shrugged and went out the front door.

Jack came behind him, wearing only baggy shorts and his cast. His entire body was dripping sweat. It was cascading off him.

Sara handed him a tall glass of water, which Jack drained. She refilled the glass from the refrigerator door and he drank that one. Halfway through the third glass, he sat down on the stool beside Kate.

The women looked at him.

"Roy really did think he was protecting me," he said.

"That's what all this—" Sara motioned to his sweaty upper half "—was about?"

He finished the third glass of water. "Naw. This is about Gena. But I've been thinking about Roy. Any more of that fruit left?"

Kate got up and began preparing a plate for him. Anybody who'd heard what he had today deserved to be waited on. "Cheryl wanted respect. That's what came through to me. She knew what people thought of her mother, so she was determined to get their respect." She pushed a plateful of orange segments to Jack.

"And she had a boyfriend," Sara said. She put a fat towel over Jack's head and began to rub his hair dry.

It was such a loving, mother-son gesture that for a moment, Kate looked away.

"But Roy..." Jack trailed off.

"Was protecting you." Kate started peeling a mango. "Maybe he ran over your bike to force you to stay away from a girl he thought was introducing you to too much, too soon."

"Yeah." Jack was smiling, his mouth full.

Kate glanced at Sara. It was nice to hear him say something good about his father.

"Respect," Sara said. "What Cheryl said to Elaine interested me. She couldn't leave Lachlan because if she didn't earn respect here—in this town—it didn't matter. Why do you think that was?"

Kate was eating a mango slice and Jack had a banana.

"You're the writer," he said. "So tell us why."

"A man," Kate and Sara said in unison.

"We know that," Jack said. "We just don't know who."

"I haven't eliminated that nasty Gena as a suspect," Sara said. "Anyone who can lie like she did could probably also kill. And she said she's kept this secret about Roy for twenty years."

"I can't see her planting a tree," Jack said.

"Of course she could!" Kate was splitting big purple grapes, removing the seeds, then putting the seedless halves on Jack's plate.

"He can take his own seeds out." Sara took the knife away from her.

"Sorry. Habit. Sometimes it was hard to get Mom to eat, so I fed her grapes. She liked the purple kind but hated the seeds, so I..."

There was an awkward silence and Sara looked like she was about to ask questions about Kate's mother.

"If you want to peel them, too," Jack said, "that's fine with me."

Kate gave him a look to say thanks for covering for her.

"Speaking of skinless grapes," Jack said, "what about your old man Stewart?"

"I have no idea who you mean," Kate said.

"Alastair?" Sara said. "He would certainly fit the bill. Lachlan upper class. Cheryl would need to dress up to be considered good enough for his family."

"So would anyone from the Kirkwood family," Kate said. "And Alastair had a girlfriend. Who else in this gossipy little town is considered local royalty?" There was the beginning of anger in Kate's voice.

"Kitten got her dander up," Jack said. "Protecting her lover."

Kate reached for his plate, but Jack held on to it.

"Okay!" he said. "Sorry. I thought of him because he's always hanging around. I seem to see him at least four times a day."

"Give me a break," Kate said. "He's never even been inside the house. What about Dan Bruebaker?" She repeated what Alastair had told her, that Dan had been obsessed with Cheryl.

"I hope you two realize that we are completely ignoring Verna," Jack said.

"Arthur Niederman," Sara said. "I meant to look him up."

"I did." Kate looked at Jack. "While you were trying to hurt poor Gil, I found him and pinned his address on the bulletin board in the kitchen."

"That was fast work," Sara said.

"I did have some help."

"My mom?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Kate was smiling.

"Isn't there a song about wanting a gal like the one who married dear ol' dad?" Jack said.

"Eww," Kate and Sara said together.

He laughed. "So what's our next move?"

"You shower, dinner, then we'll make plans," Sara said. "Bruebaker and Niederman, for sure. Maybe we can find the landlord of their house. I'm with Jack and want to know who robbed the place."

"How do you shower with that cast on?" Kate asked.

Jack got off the stool. "Come on and I'll show you."

"You wish," Kate said. "Go on. You're beginning to stink."

Acting like he was hurt at her comment, he went down the hall to his bedroom.

"Tub," Sara said.

"What?"

"He gets in the tub with his leg over the side. He'll stay in there for at least an hour. What do you want for dinner?"

"Answers," Kate said and Sara agreed.

They had a much-needed quiet night. The repercussions of Gena's lies went through their minds. Like dominoes, one lie built on top of another one until they all fell down. Or in this case, two people ended up under a tree, their disappearance not even noticed.

The question they didn't speak aloud was "Did Roy kill the two women?"

The next morning, Kate and Sara were in the kitchen making breakfast. High-fiber cereal and skim milk for Kate; bacon and eggs for Sara.

A sleepy-eyed Jack, wearing only pajamas bottoms, came in on his crutches and wanted some of all the food.

He'd barely taken a bite when the doorbell rang. Then rang again and again as someone began pounding on the door.

"Stay here until I see who it is," Jack said over his shoulder as he went to the door.

Ignoring his order, the women were close behind him.

Jack seemed ready to do battle, but when he looked through the glass panel beside the door, he said, "Oh, hell," turned away and went back to the kitchen.

Sara looked out. "Make that double hell." She followed Jack.

When Kate looked out, she saw a woman holding a newspaper, her thin face red with rage. She was older and had a hard look about her, as though she'd seen and done too much in her life. She had on tight shiny leggings and a red top with sparkles around the collar. Her shoulder-length hair was white blond.

She was still ringing the bell and kicking the door. Sara and Jack were nowhere to be seen. "Cowards!" Kate called out, then took a breath, put on a smile and opened the door. "Hello!" she said cheerfully, her hand extended. "I'm—"

"I know who you are. One of Jack's. And a Medlar. Double curse on you. Where is he?" She didn't give Kate time to answer but strode ahead. "Jackson!" she shouted. "Come out and face me!"

It took him a moment, but Jack entered the living room. He'd pulled on a T-shirt. "What do you want, Krystal?"

Behind them, Kate nodded. She remembered. Roy's second wife and Evan's mother.

Krystal waved the newspaper in Jack's face. "You did this. To Evan's father! How could you do that to my son? How could you...do...that?"

The woman's energy was beginning to leave her. Kate went to her, put her hand under her arm and led her to one of the blue couches. Sara was peeping around the corner, so Kate motioned to her to get something to drink. Jack was reading the newspaper she'd brought.

When he finished, he sat down across from Krystal and put the paper on the coffee table. Kate knew him well enough to see that he was so angry that it was a wonder steam wasn't coming out of his ears. She sat down beside Krystal.

"This is your fault," Krystal said. "Flynn never tried to investigate your father. You must have told him—"

"You think he'd listen to me?" Jack said. "He hates me more than he did Roy."

"Not Roy. He's your father. You should call him Dad."

Jack's mouth went into a straight line of absolute stubbornness, and Kate knew she was seeing a glimpse of what Roy Wyatt's temper must have been like.

Sara appeared with a tray full of drinks. She'd cleaned out the fridge of cans and bottles, had poured a cup of coffee and made a mug of tea. Not fancy, but certainly plentiful.

"What's this?" Krystal glared at Sara. "You think you can shut me up with coffee?"

Sara suddenly looked as angry as Jack.

Kate leaned forward. Damn! This was like trying to deal with her uncles. She knew she'd only win them over by being on their side. "What did Jack do to you?" She heard his intake of breath but she ignored it.

Krystal's anger was taking on new life. "He's telling everyone that my husband killed those women."

"Actually," Kate said with exaggerated calm, "he's been trying to prove the opposite. We were told that Roy was the murderer and that, since he's passed away, we were to leave it alone. Jack insisted that we do whatever was necessary to prove his father was innocent."

Krystal leaned back to look at Kate. "You're a real sweet talker, aren't you?" The way she said it was not a compliment.

But Kate acted as though it was meant as one. "Thank you." She picked up the newspaper. "Mind if I read this?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

There was an adorable photo of Jack, younger than when he knew Cheryl, and a picture of Cheryl looking about twenty-five. It set the tone of the story that something was not right.

Tree Murders Solved

by Elliot Hughes

Rage. Lust. Child abuse. It's all there in the twenty-year-old double homicide that was recently discovered in the tiny, quaint town of Lachlan, Florida. When a giant poinciana came down, two skeletons were found tangled in the roots. Sheriff Daryl Flynn of the Broward County Sheriff's Department has now completed his intensive investigation.

The late Roy Wyatt was the town's bad boy: dark and handsome, quick-tempered, practically lived on a big black Harley. He was in and out of jail from the time he was a teenager. Never stayed inside for long and some said it was because he could coax a peacock out of its plumage.

But one thing Roy was serious about was his eldest son, his little Mini-Me, Jackson Charles Wyatt.

Back in 1997, when Roy discovered that a teenage girl was abusing his young son by... Well, no one really knows what happened—or at least isn't telling the sordid details.

What people do know is that twenty years later, the girl and her mother—who charged for being the town's good-time gal—were found buried under a tree. And the property had recently been purchased by Jack Wyatt, the aforementioned son. How's that for a cosmic coincidence?

Sheriff Flynn says there's no proof—and never will be—of anybody's guilt, but he now knows enough that he's closing the case. "Sometimes a man has to do what he has to do," he said, leaving it to the imagination of the listener as to what Roy Wyatt did or didn't do to protect his child.

It looks like the town bad boy may have posthumously redeemed himself. But we'll never know, will we? As Sheriff Flynn told us, "We should let the dead rest in peace."

I say that it looks like what goes around, comes around.

When Kate put down the newspaper, her hands were shaking. Sara had moved behind her and she took it.

"This isn't true," Kate said. "Not any of it."

Krystal shot a hateful look at Jack. "He's been sleeping with her."

Kate looked at Jack but he didn't react. "With Cheryl? All that about the child abuse isn't true. It was made up by—"

"Not her." Krystal grabbed the newspaper. "Her!" She was punching it.

"Elliot Hughes is female," Jack said but made no expression.

Kate gave him a narrowed-eye glance. So Elliot was the newscaster she'd heard he was dating? He should have told them of this complication. "That doesn't mean—"

Krystal cut her off. She was staring at Jack. "Donna is in tears. She's had to hear people say that her son is a murderer." She looked at Sara. "I bet you like anything that causes her pain."

"If you think—" Sara began.

Kate put her hand on her aunt's arm, then looked at them. For all the softness she saw, their faces might as well be on Mount Rushmore. "Oh, the hell with all this," Kate said, then turned to Krystal. "You have two choices. You can yell and scream and spit venom at us, or you can help us prove that Roy didn't do it. Your choice."

Kate got up and stalked into her room. She stood in front of the window, her arms crossed over her chest. She had to calm her own anger down. She'd spent a lifetime dealing with relatives who only knew anger. Orders. Decrees. Threats. Never any reasoning about anything.

After a few minutes, Jack came into her room. "Krystal has some things she wants to say to you." When Kate didn't react, he stepped behind her. "Come on," he said. "She's calmed down. I think she'll talk now."

Kate still didn't move.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "We can stop this anytime you want," he said softly. "My family is too much for me to handle, much less for an outsider."

She rubbed her upper arms. "It's not them. I think maybe it's the injustice of it all. That article was truly awful. It condemned innocent people. It assumed guilt of both Cheryl and Verna."

"And Roy."

"Yes. And him." She turned to face him. "If we figure this out, can you get that woman to retract what she wrote?"

"I think she'd love to write an in-depth piece about the truth."

"Is she the newscaster Alastair said was your girlfriend?"

"Probably. I met her when she interviewed me about buying the houses. But it was just a one-night thing. We haven't gone out since."

"Think she had a good time with you?"

Jack blinked. "This happened before I met you. I didn't—"

Kate waved her hand. "A newspaper insider might be useful in helping us. But if you did some quickie that turned her off, she'll tell us to get lost."

Jack's eyes were wide. "No quickie. An all-nighter. Best she ever had. Her words, not mine."

"Good. Unless she was lying. Let's go talk to your stepmother."

Shaking his head, Jack followed her back into the living room. Krystal was still sitting on the couch and she'd poured her drink into a glass with ice in it. Cheese and crackers had been added to the tray.

Sara was on the opposite sofa but she looked ready to run away if the atmosphere again got angry.

"I want to help," Krystal said. "She said you want me to tell my side of what happened."

She, Kate thought. Looked like the air hadn't cleared enough that the names of her enemies were going to be used.

"I didn't know about the sex stuff," Krystal said. "Roy didn't tell me that part."

"There was no ‘sex stuff,'" Jack said. "We didn't—"

"What happened?" Kate asked.

"When we heard about the, uh, tree, I looked back at my old calendars. I used to keep them so I'd know about Evan's shots. He needs—" She took a breath. "Anyway, I made a note about that house. And I remember it because of the camera." She looked at Jack. "And your bike."

She took a drink. "It was the last weekend before school started, and that Saturday morning we were going to the Sawgrass Mall to buy school clothes for Evan. Roy was in a foul mood, snapping at me, and we were about to get into a fight. I wanted to get there early, but he said he had to make a stop."

She looked at Kate. "He drove to the Morris house, parked across the road and told me to wait for him. In the front yard he picked up a bike that had been smashed. I knew it was Jack's." She glared at him. "Roy's first wife married a rich contractor, so Jack didn't have to take care of his things. If he lost or broke something, his stepfather could just buy him a new one. That bike cost a lot of money, but Jack had destroyed it."

Kate looked at Jack, but except for a darkening of his eyes he had no expression.

"Roy threw the bike down, then went around to the back of the house. I didn't know those people. I'd heard about Verna, so of course I had nothing to do with her. An old van was parked at the side, and it was packed to the ceiling. There were even things tied onto the back."

"What did Roy do?" Kate asked.

"He was out of sight for a while and later he told me that he went through the house. He said it was a mess inside, like they'd left in a hurry, but nobody was there.

"I saw Roy open the car door and take out a box." Krystal looked from Kate to Sara. "I guess he shouldn't have done that, but he was pretty mad about the bike. Those women shouldn't have destroyed his son's property no matter how mad they were at Roy."

"What was in the box?" Jack's teeth were clenched.

"A video camera and tapes. Roy said they belonged to Henry Lowell and he was going to return them. I never saw them again."

She caught her breath. "Wait! That may not be true. I saw a camera just like that one at Donna's house, but that was at least a year later. I remember thinking that Henry must have recommended it. He was such a nice man." She looked at Jack. "I don't know why you couldn't have been more like him."

"Too much of my dad in me, I guess."

"Roy tried to make a man of you, but you were always ungrateful."

Kate said, "I think—"

"So how often did you leave him?" Jack asked. "And you got your nose fixed. It looks better than it did in the hospital."

Krystal came to her feet. "Everyone knows you killed my son. You were drunk and driving and—"

Kate put her hand on Krystal's arm, Sara went to the other side and they managed to get the angry woman to the front door.

"I'll talk to you two, but not to him," she said as they closed the door behind her.

Kate and Sara leaned against the door and both let out a breath. It felt like they'd just fought a fire-breathing dragon.

When Sara and Kate finally recovered enough to walk away from the door, they found Jack in the kitchen frying eggs. For all that he'd just been accused of a heinous crime, he didn't look disturbed.

"I'm going to go to work today." He sounded happy. "What are you two doing?"

The women weren't fooled. Sara glanced at Kate. "We're going with you."

"I need to—"

"See the sheriff," Kate said.

Jack gave a giant sigh. "Stop trying to read my mind. Flynn shouldn't have told the reporter all that."

"You mean your girlfriend?" Kate said. "Why aren't you calling her and bawling her out? But then, she's probably too proud of her own cutesy writing to be upset. What happened to printing the real news? Facts? Not hearsay about bad boys and motorcycles."

"Jack has Roy's Harley," Sara said. "It's in the garage at his old house."

"Yeah?" Kate's eyes lit up, but then she remembered that she'd declared she didn't like motorcycle-type guys. "You're going to go see the sheriff, aren't you?"

Jack didn't answer.

"Of course he is," Sara said. "And I'm sure the infamous Wyatt temper will help our cause." She looked at Kate. "How soon can you put on something nice? And short?"

"Are you pimping her out?" Jack sounded angry.

"I am." Sara smiled big. "Use your youth while you have it."

Kate looked from Jack to Sara, then back. "I have an Elaine Cross dress—a copy of one, anyway. I'll..." She didn't finish but hurried to her bedroom.

Minutes later, they were in the truck, Kate in the middle. "I think Krystal inadvertently gave us a date of when the murder happened."

"Yeah," Jack said. "Cheryl's sixteenth birthday. The day I gave her the necklace."

"And the day Roy ran over your bike." Sara sounded bitter. "I feel like telling Krystal the truth about that."

"She won't listen," Jack said. "She's martyred Roy so he's a saint."

"Do you think that Verna is the one who packed the car?" Kate asked. "Did what Roy said to Cheryl make them decide to leave town?"

A muscle in Jack's jaw was working. "Maybe Roy went back later. Maybe Verna got angry. Maybe he did kill them."

Kate looked at him. "Let's see what Sheriff Flynn has to say."

"After his ‘intensive investigation'?" Jack sounded like he was gearing up for a fight.

He parked the truck in front of the sheriff's department and the women waited for him to get out with his crutches. "Let me have your car keys," he said to Kate.

"My—? Oh, no. I completely forgot! My car is still at the listing house." She dug in her Dooney Bourke handbag for them.

"I thought that after we leave here I'd drop Sara off there. She can drive your car home, then you and I can go to the grocery. I'd go myself but with these things it's not easy."

He meant his crutches, but he was looking at Kate hard, letting her know he wanted to talk to her in private.

She gave him a nod of understanding and they went into the office. As before, the same young man was behind the desk. He spoke to Jack. "He's expecting you. Been on the phone for a day and a half. Watch your step or he might crack your other leg."

Sheriff Flynn was sitting behind his big desk and already frowning. There were three chairs lined up across from him.

"Good morning," Kate said, but the others were silent as they sat down. "Jack's stepmother, Krystal Wyatt, showed us a newspaper article and we were wondering if you—"

Sheriff Flynn put up his hand. "I know all about it. Krystal called and told me everything. And last night I got a call from a Lachlan girl, Gena Upton. Ever hear of her?"

"Yes, we have," Kate said.

"She's a lying little—" Sara began.

Again, the sheriff put up his hand. "I know. Bad actress. Lots of tears and no truth. I know Jim Pendal and his family. They were happy when he got away from that girl, and they are very proud of the one he did marry."

"Elaine," Kate said.

The sheriff stood up. "I want you three to stop what you're doing. Go back to building and selling houses and writing books." He looked at Jack. "And you can stop sleeping with every pretty girl who smiles at you."

Jack glowered. "You told Elliot that Roy killed the women. You have no proof of that."

Sheriff Flynn bent toward Jack. "Do you think I don't know what you people are up to? You're like a cyclone tearing through this town and leaving death in your path."

He had their attention now.

"You went on TV and made a fool of yourself over a pretty reporter and bragged to everyone how you'd bought a house. But there was somebody who knew that house hid his murder victims. The next thing you know, somebody cut the brakes to your truck. You ended up broken, but your brother is dead."

His crudeness made Kate gasp and Sara looked like she was going to faint, but Jack didn't so much as move a muscle. He was just staring at the sheriff.

"Then you snoops went to an old-age home to visit a neighbor of the murdered girls. What happened? When you got there, she was dead."

He picked up a file folder off his desk. "See this? It's an autopsy report of the late Mrs. Ellerbee that I ordered. Cause of death? Asphyxiation. She suffocated. I was told that she's old and accidents happen. Maybe she got twisted up in the sheets. But it's also possible that someone put a plastic bag over her head to keep her from talking."

He glared at Jack. "And you bribed the video guy to give you a copy of the tapes of who visited the home that day. Yes, that's right. I found out about that, too. A man who can be bribed isn't one to keep his mouth shut. It's quite possible that a murderer knows that you have him on film."

Sheriff Flynn went to the far side of the room. "I've got people calling me at home, in the office or wherever I am. I can't take a piss without someone reporting on something else your Scooby-Doo gang has done."

He turned around to them. "Not that you've waited for the results, but the skeletons found under that tree are Verna and Cheryl Morris. And yes, they were murdered. The girl was hit over the head—blunt-force trauma. Died instantly. Verna was stabbed. I guess that wasn't enough to kill her because she was also strangled so hard the bones in her neck were broken. Someone strong and really, really angry killed those two."

He looked down at his desk, then back at them. "Twenty years ago, something truly awful happened in this town and nobody knew it. The evidence was buried. It was all a real shame."

He leaned toward them. "But now you interfering busybodies are stirring up that evil. You're asking questions, making people remember nasty little things about their time in high school. It's like you're stoking a fire that's already burned people up. Four—four!—people have now died because of whatever happened at that damn tree." He glared at Jack. "Evan! Your little brother. I remember how you used to ride him around town on your bike. And Mary Ellerbee. I knew her. Very nice woman, but she must have known something about the killer, so she had to go."

For a moment the sheriff paused. "I want you to stop. I'm sorry the Morris girls were murdered. It's a tragedy. Edison shouldn't have believed that jealous Upton girl. He should have looked into it all and taken care of it back then, before it all escalated." He took a deep breath. "But that was a long time ago and it's done. I care about now. Today. I care about people who are still alive and I want them to stay that way. Am I making myself clear?"

Through all of this, Jack, Sara and Kate had said nothing, just sat there and listened. At the sheriff's question, they gave silent nods. Yes, they understood.

"That's it," the sheriff said. "I hope I don't need to come up with any threats to make you lot mind your own business. But if I have to, I will. Now get out of here. I've got a dozen calls I have to answer. Krystal and Donna are stirring up the town. And that girl Gena thinks she's going to be blamed for the murders—or be sacrificed to the murderer. She wants me to arrest Jim Pendal's wife, for God's sake. But if there are any arrests made, it will be your little Junior Detective group. For your own protection."

The sheriff stood there, waiting for them to leave. Jack took his time getting up on his crutches. Kate's heart was beating hard. Had Jack known the truth about his brakes being tampered with? Sara had told her that they believed brake fluid had drained when Jack drove over some rocky terrain, but now the sheriff said they'd been cut. Everything had just become much more serious—and dangerous.

Sara looked like she was about to collapse from shock.

Kate was the last one up. She reached for her handbag, which she'd set on the floor, but the sheriff did a deft little kick and sent it skidding under his desk. She looked at him in surprise but then understood. He wanted to see her alone.

Outside by the truck, Kate said she'd forgotten her bag and needed to go back to get it.

"I'm going to take Sara and your car home. I'll come back to pick you up."

With a nod, Kate turned and went into the office where the sheriff was waiting for her. He no longer wore his look of anger. Instead, he seemed to be a deflated balloon. She took a chair across from him and waited in silence for him to tell her what he had to say.

"That wasn't easy for me." He looked at her. "You're the only sane one in your little trio and I need your help on this. Those two have so much baggage hanging around their necks that they can't think straight."

Kate wanted to lighten the air—for her own sake as much as his. "To be fair, I have an equal amount of very annoying baggage. But the airlines lost mine. If it ever shows up, I'll be up that creek. No paddle has been made that can get me away from my baggage."

It took him a moment but the sheriff did manage a bit of a smile. "This whole thing started with Jack slobbering over that reporter. And now he's got you following him."

"Jack and I aren't an item, if that's what you mean."

"That's good. Saving yourself for a Stewart. Wise choice."

Why were the people in this town so obsessed with who she was or wasn't dating? Exasperated, she said, "Would it do any good to say that today women make their own futures? Men are just desserts? I believe in feminism, in women's power."

The sheriff had a full-on smile. "You are so much like your father."

"You knew him?"

"Anyone in Lachlan over...well, a certain age, knew him. Of course, he was a lot older than me."

"Of course."

"It's an old-fashioned word but he was charming. Made people laugh. Cheered them up. He and Roy and I—"

"Roy Wyatt? Jack's father? And you?"

Sheriff Flynn gave a one-sided smile. "I haven't always been a person dedicated to good. I sowed a few wild oats. Actually, it was your father who made me go into law enforcement." He laughed. "It was either that or jail. Roy went the other way."

"And my father?"

"He left town. Looks like he did a good job in making you."

"Thank you. Maybe I could take you out to dinner some night and you'd tell me about my father?"

The sheriff stood up. "I'd love to do that, but the gossip in this town would be that I made a pass at you."

Kate stood. "Then I'd have to say that I accepted. But that wouldn't be good for your reputation as a fighter of evil."

He looked surprised, then pleased. "Go on, get out of here." He sighed. "But please do what you can to get them to stop trying to be detectives. Go sell some houses. Help Tayla beautify this town. Leave the dead to rest in peace. You guys made a beautiful memorial service. That's enough."

She started to leave but turned back. "I didn't know about what happened to Evan...about Jack's brakes."

"Nobody does. But the day after those bodies were found, I was suspicious. I had a friend check that truck out. The line had been cut."

"Then why hasn't there been an investigation?"

Sheriff Flynn took a while to answer. "Jack kept saying he'd driven over some sharp rocks and they'd cut the line. But then, maybe somebody used a piece of flint to do the cut. Whatever, Forensics couldn't prove it was intentional." He shook his head. "Besides, there was a lot of alcohol involved. Evan was clean but Jack was saturated. And no one could prove who the driver was. If I'd pushed, it could have ended up with Jack in prison."

"And he is a Wyatt," Kate said and the sheriff gave a quick nod. "But you don't believe it was an accident?"

"I did at first, but since then, I've changed my mind. There's too much coincidence. Jack was the one who bought the house with the skeletons, so I think he was the target. But Evan paid the price. You need to make them stop looking into what isn't any of their business."

"I will do my best." On impulse, she kissed the sheriff on the cheek, and he turned the other one. Oh, yes. Cuban. As she left, she managed to smile, even if it was a bit weak at the corners. Outside, she saw that Jack wasn't back yet, so she sat on a bench in the shade.

Since the day she'd arrived in town, she'd been told that people believed Jack had been drunk and driving. Just this morning Evan's mother had accused Jack of murder. On the day the skeletons were discovered, the sheriff had asked Jack if he was staying sober.

But it seemed that it was possible that someone had wanted to kill Jack.

And Sheriff Flynn was beginning to see the truth. Even though he couldn't get his bosses to believe him, it was nice to have someone on their side.

When Jack arrived, he didn't get out of his truck. Kate got in and he drove away in silence.

He didn't go far as she'd seen that South Florida was rich in huge, well-stocked grocery stores. A Publix was in a strip mall and surrounded by necessary shops.

Jack pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine, but he didn't move. Nor did he look at her. He seemed to be waiting for something—and she had an idea what it was.

"Did you know?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. As soon as I got out of the hospital, I put my smashed truck up on a lift and examined it. Whoever did it didn't know squat about vehicles. Probably looked up what to do on the internet. I knew nobody wanted Evan dead—he was the good son—but Roy made a lot of enemies. They might want to take it out on me instead. It wasn't until after we found the bodies at a house I had bought that I began to think there was a connection."

"Does Sara know?"

"I told her about the brake fluid being drained, but I blamed it on some rough terrain I'd been driving. I didn't tell anyone I thought it had been done on purpose. Why should I scare you two?"

They still hadn't looked at each other. Kate's heart was pounding and she tried to quiet it. "You let everyone believe you may have been driving drunk."

"Wish I had been," he whispered. "Wish Evan had stayed home."

She turned to look at him. "I'm so sorry about all this. Your friend and your brother. You've lost the most from this."

He opened his door. "Which is why I plan to keep on searching for the bastard who did this. Flynn and his cowardice can go to hell for all I care." He paused. "But I want you and Sara to stop. I'll—"

She flung open the door. "Come on, let's buy you some fruit." She climbed out, then watched across the seat as he wrestled with his cast and crutches. "You think they have any pink grapefruits? I love pink grapefruit. Burt's Bees has a lip balm that smells like it and I would like to smear it all over my body."

"Can I help?"

She'd set him up for that one, but she was glad to see his teasing, smart-aleck, devil-may-care smile return. "Can you help choose fruit? Sure."

He gave a snort of laughter and shut the door.

They first went to the huge produce section. Jack began filling plastic bags with fruit, while Kate went for the vegetables.

"Get the ones already cut up," he said.

"They're more expensive."

"I've got two houses you can list for me. We'll be able to afford them."

"We," she whispered as she grabbed bags of broccoli, green beans, brussels sprouts and peppers. All for her new family. Was there anything more soul-satisfying than belonging?

"So what did Sheriff Flynn want from you?" Jack put three colors of grapes—all seedless—in the cart.

"A date."

He gave her a half-hooded look.

"He told me that I'm sane, that you and Aunt Sara aren't, so I'm to reason with you and make you stop investigating." She left out the details of how Jack could have ended up in prison. "Did you know he and your father and mine ran around together?"

"Based on Flynn's wimpiness, my dad might have knocked him up."

"I'd laugh at that if you hadn't called my entire sex ‘wimpy.' But it does say something about the preferences of your father."

Jack laughed. "You win. No, I didn't know. Roy and I weren't chummy. No fishing trips together. And no, I don't remember ever having met your father. What did Flynn say about him?"

"That he was charming. He said my dad made people laugh, cheered them up."

"Like you."

"Thank you." She put two bags full of yellow onions in the cart. "So what do we do next?"

"You and Sara stay home while I visit Arthur Niederman."

"You plan to visit him alone? Without us?"

"I take it you don't approve of that idea. How about if you and I visit Mr. Niederman while Sara stays home and writes?" He was putting tomatoes on vines in a bag.

"Aunt Sara won't like that."

"Then I take it that you don't want to protect her? You think she can stand up to whatever Flynn dishes out if he finds out we aren't quitting this case?"

The way he put it, it was impossible not to agree with him. And besides, he knew Sara much better than she did. She decided to change the subject. "I've been meaning to ask what you thought of Alastair Stewart when you were growing up."

Jack looked like he was about to make a joke but didn't. "I was in awe of him. Rich, blond, very tall, great athlete, four-point-oh average. When I was a kid, I wanted to dye my hair because everyone kept saying I looked like Roy."

"And Cal."

Jack picked up lemons and put them in the bag Kate held open. "Yeah, and Granddad."

"So what's your grandmother Donna like?"

Jack shook his head. "Grans is the opposite of Sara in every way."

"Except in her love of Wyatt men."

"No." Jack held up a big avocado. "Not really. Roy was her favorite. Granddad and I were a bit of a nuisance to her."

"The baddest boys get loved," she murmured. "Anyway, back to Alastair."

"Again." Jack headed toward the big glass seafood case, Kate close behind him.

"Do you think Cheryl would have been interested in Alastair?"

"Maybe. I was eleven; Stewart was a senior. We didn't exactly share lunches. But my guess is that all females like him. He called dibs on you ten minutes after you arrived and you said yes, yes, yes."

She ignored his statement. "You knew Cheryl. Who was her type? What fish do you want?"

"Sara likes the red snapper. Get whatever you want."

"Right. Real men eat whatever is put in front of them."

"Now who's being a Mean Girl?"

"Me!"

She spoke with so much delight that Jack laughed as he waited for her to give the order to the fishmonger.

They got shrimp and scallops as well as the fish, then started going up and down the aisles. Jack vetoed whole wheat pasta, calling it "extruded tile grout."

They were at the canned goods before he answered her question. "I don't know what kind of man Cheryl liked. I sure as hell wanted to be whatever it was. One day I showed up wearing one of Roy's leather motorcycle jackets and she thought it was funny."

"You were so cute that it would have been."

Jack groaned. "Cute. The death word for a man's libido." He put three cans of artichoke hearts in the cart. "If Cheryl liked Alastair Stewart, I never heard a hint of it. If I had, I definitely would have dyed my hair to look like his."

"What about Dan Bruebaker?"

"I don't remember him specifically. All those football guys hung out together. In their eyes, we little kids didn't exist."

"And when you were a senior, were you the same way?"

"Oh, yeah. My one and only year of being king of my realm." He ignored Kate's snort. "Have you learned anything that points to a murderer?"

"No. It's getting worse. Suspects are piling on top of each other." They were in the paper aisle and she was filling the bottom shelf of the cart. "Why wouldn't her boyfriend acknowledge a hottie like Cheryl?" When Jack didn't answer, she looked at him. "Oh. Her mother. He wouldn't have wanted to be associated with them—might've affected his reputation."

Jack nodded in agreement.

Kate paused with a big pack of paper towels in her hand. "I wonder who started the gossip? Who inflamed it? Who kept it going?"

"Yet another good question that we don't have an answer for." He took the towels from her, put them in the cart and started moving.

"Cheryl wanted to do better in life—but she felt she had to do it here in Lachlan. I think there was someone in this town who made her want to stay."

"And Verna was the same way. She could have left town," Jack said. "I mean, she had a good job in a big city but she gave it up to return to Lachlan. Why?"

Kate was putting packets of bacon in the cart and she halted. "I don't remember hearing about her having a good job and giving it up."

Immediately, Jack looked guilty. "Get the thick-cut kind." He swallowed. "Maybe Cheryl told me. I'm not sure."

"And you're just now remembering that important fact?"

Jack gave a weak smile. "Guess so. You want some hot dogs?"

"No. They're poison." Kate pulled her cell out of her bag.

"Calling anyone I know?"

"Your mother. You deserve a time-out. I cannot believe you forgot to tell us that. What else—? Hi, Heather. Could you help me find out something about Verna?" She told her what Jack had said about the job Verna had given up, adding in her annoyance with Jack for keeping it from them. From the look on Kate's face, Heather agreed with her.

When she hung up, he was smiling. "You and my mom get along well, don't you?"

"Better than you and I do. Wait until I tell Aunt Sara this. What kind of cheese do you want?"

"All of it. Did we get any crackers? I like it when you make a plate of things. You do it so it's very pretty. And tasty."

She knew he was complimenting her so she wouldn't be angry at him. She started tossing packets of cheese in the cart. "Come on, let's go. We need to get to Mr. Niederman before the sheriff talks to him and he runs away in terror."

"That would be difficult, since he can't use his legs."

She glared at him. "So help me, if you just remembered that, I'll throw that big round of Gouda at you."

"Somebody told me recently," he said. As Kate grabbed the end of the cart and began pulling, he added, "I think."