7. Thad

The next day I called Atticus and asked if I could come by for a chat. He said I could stop by anytime. Annie had another month before she had to return to work. In the meantime, after returning from their honeymoon, they were enjoying a quiet life with Scout.

Annie answered the door upon my arrival, all smiles as she welcomed me inside. "Atticus said you were stopping by. You know you don't have to call first?"

"I know. But there's something important I wanted to talk to him about. Actually, both of you if you have time to join us?"

She pushed copper curls away from her face. "Sure. Can I get you anything? Atticus is on the patio."

I declined the offer of food or drink and headed outside. Atticus sat under the shade of the awning, Scout at his feet. They both looked up as we approached. Scout ambled to her feet to come over and give my hand a kiss. I knelt to give her a good pet before sitting next to my oldest brother. Annie scooted in next to her husband to share the love seat.

"What's going on?" Atticus asked. "You look like the weight of the world's on your shoulders."

"I need your help. Or advice, as the case may be."

"Whatever you need, I'm here." My oldest brother gave me one of his gentle, encouraging smiles. All my life, he'd been my hero and still was.

"I'd like to preface all of this with a confession," I said. "I'm in love with Sammie."

Neither Atticus nor Annie said anything, simply nodded, as if this didn't surprise them in the least.

"I told her how I felt last night."

"Well done," Atticus said.

"What did she say?" Annie leaned forward slightly, her eyes ablaze with clear delight.

"She told me why she's really here," I said. "And it's not good."

"Go on," Atticus said.

I told them Sammie's story, watching their reactions closely. They nodded when I described the abuse, clearly not surprised. Their countenances grew more concerned as I went into John Underwood's family and the power, they had over what happened in the small town of Fremont, Tennessee. "Basically, the Underwoods run the town, including the police. They'd have been of no help if she'd turned him in or called them out to the house." Next, I shared what had happened the night Sammie had tried to escape—their expressions changed from sympathetic to horrified. "She fought him, using her kickboxing techniques she'd learned, but instead it backfired. During the struggle, his gun went off. He died. Right there in front of her. Then she took off, knowing what would happen once Underwood's cop brother and cousin got involved."

"Right. She didn't have a chance," Atticus said under his breath.

"She'd already arranged for the new license and identity," I said. "Hoping to disappear so he wouldn't be able to find her. However, after what happened, it was even more necessary for her to hide, not only from his family but the police." I told them about the obituary being the only thing we could find on John Underwood's death.

"So, they haven't reported it as a murder," Atticus said. "Interesting."

"They don't want the truth about him exposed," I said. "These are people who do things outside of the law."

"Poor Sammie," Annie said. "All these months I've suspected she was running from an abusive husband, but I had no idea he was dead."

"Or that she accidentally killed him," Atticus said.

"Same here," I said.

Atticus spoke softly, almost as if speaking to himself. "So, what we've got here, basically, is a woman who will lose everything if she's found. There's the stolen identity on top of a manslaughter charge. She'll go to prison and leave Chloe to the bastard's family."

"That's right. What do we do?" I asked.

Atticus didn't say anything for a few minutes, getting up and pacing around the patio. He'd told me once he always did his best thinking while moving.

"If he beat her regularly," Annie said, "surely people knew. Not much is kept secret in a small town."

"Did she have friends?" Atticus asked.

"No. Underwood isolated her after her father died," I said.

"That's what they do," Annie said.

Atticus came to a stop behind the love seat, placing his hands on the back cushion. "Seems to me we have three options. One is to keep going like we are, hoping no one finds her. The downside there is she'll have to live with this hanging over her head. She'll never be able to move on, always worried her past is going to catch up with her."

"Right." Annie nodded, glancing over at me. "In which case, she won't be able to marry again or have any kind of life."

She spoke my thoughts exactly.

"She could turn herself in," Atticus said. "Hope for an acquittal based on self-defense. We'd hire the best attorneys we could find."

"How will she pay for that?" I asked.

"She won't," Annie said. "I will. What good is all the money they give me for playing dress-up if I can't help family?"

"Your work's more complicated than dress-up," Atticus said, smiling.

"You know what I mean," Annie said, with a self-deprecating shrug.

"Why would you do such a generous thing?" I asked.

"She's my friend. And I love you, Thad Moon. Since you were this high." Annie mimed patting the head of a small child. "You've always had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. If you love her, then we love her. Just like you all loved me, even though it was complicated."

"That's a great point, Mrs. Moon." Atticus, still behind the love seat, planted a kiss on the top of Annie's head. She reached up to take his hand, brushing her lips against his knuckles.

"There's a third idea," Atticus said. "We could hire a private detective to do a little digging around down there. See if he or she could find anything we could use against the Underwoods."

"Like for leverage?" I asked. "Isn't that risky? I don't want all of us going to jail."

"If this Underwood family runs Fremont, it wouldn't surprise me if they were involved in some illegal enterprises, if you know what I mean. Maybe we can find something and then threaten to expose them unless they agree to leave Sammie alone."

"How do you find a good private detective?" I asked.

"Leave that to me," Annie said. "Hollywood's full of them."

* * *

Thirty minutes later,Sammie and I sat in guest chairs in Atticus's office. Atticus was busy behind the computer, with Annie perched on the corner of the desk.

"It's just as you've said, Sammie. There's nothing about his murder anywhere," Atticus said. "And I can't find anything about a report of a missing person or child."

"Right." Sammie's hands shook as she gripped the arms of the chair. "They would have kept it all hidden. If people knew I'd run away, there would be questions about why. It's better for them if they take care of me on their own."

"It's weird that no one's noticed you're missing," Annie said.

"If anyone went to the cops, they'd be ignored," Sammie said. "The girls I worked with at the diner won't ask any questions, because they know how things work there. No one wants to mess with the Underwoods."

"Yeah, here's the obit from the local paper." Atticus paused, reading silently. "Nothing about how he died, just a few sentences about leaving a loving wife and child behind. According to this, he was a pillar of the community, church leader, and successful local businessman."

"All lies," Sammie said.

"Does your father-in-law run the newspaper too?" I asked.

"Not officially, but yes," Sammie said. "They print whatever he asks them to."

"It says in here they were having a private burial and a celebration of life sometime in the future," Atticus said.

"I don't get it," Annie said. "Why wouldn't the cops treat his death as a homicide? Wouldn't the paramedics have been called? A bullet wound doesn't happen by itself."

Sammie had flinched at the word homicide. "You have to understand what it's like there. The messiness of the whole thing is not something they'd want public. If they told everyone he was shot in a scuffle with his wife, it would open up a lot of questions. Why was there a fight? Why did he have a gun? What reason would I have had to kill him? I grew up there. People would find it hard to believe I was a cold-blooded killer. Everyone thinks the Underwood's walk on water. The family wouldn't want the whole thing examined, so they brushed it under the rug. It's not the first time they lied about what really happened. They had a construction worker a few years back who died under mysterious circumstances. The widow made a fuss, trying to get answers. Next thing we knew, she was gone. My guess is they bought her off and asked her not-so-politely to leave town. Either that or they killed her." Sammie shuddered and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Good Lord, who are these people?" Annie asked.

Sammie's complexion had whitened, and her features tightened, resembling candle wax. "They kept the details quiet, which proves that instead of going through the legal system to punish me and open up all the sordid details for public consumption, they're planning on dealing with me themselves."

"If they can find you," Atticus said.

"They will," Sammie said. "Eventually. It's only a matter of time."

The thought chilled me.

"We have money," Annie said. "Which makes us just as powerful."

"But how?" Sammie asked. "What can we do?"

Atticus and I exchanged glances.

"We want to hire a detective to go down and see what he can dig up on the Underwood family," I said.

"And use that knowledge to our advantage," Atticus said. "As leverage. We keep quiet, they leave you alone."

"You mean like extortion?" Sammie asked, eyes wide with obvious horror.

Atticus winced. "I hate that word, but yes. It's a sordid business, but your life's on the line, not to mention little Chloe. Which calls for drastic measures."

"Yeah, okay," Sammie said. "I have to protect Chloe. That's what matters most."

"And she needs to be with you," I said. "We're going to make sure you keep her."

* * *

By that evening,Annie had found a private investigator for the job. He'd completed successful cases in which he'd been tasked to find evidence, to prove someone either innocent or guilty.

We talked with him over video conference back at Atticus's. Tom McCall of McCall's Investigations was a tall, awkward-looking fellow, so skinny his collarbones protruded through the fabric of his T-shirt and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed.

Annie informed us she'd already negotiated his retainer and fee. All Sammie needed to do was tell him everything she knew.

Sammie did as asked, telling McCall everything she'd told me.

"I've assumed a new identity," Sammie said. "But they're resourceful people. They'll find me and my daughter eventually."

"Okay, so let me get this straight. Whatever I find, you'll use to ensure your safety?" McCall asked, Adam's apple bobbing. "Last I checked, that's illegal."

"Basically," I said. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No sir. Just wanted to know my intention. I've found that's the key in life. If you know what you want, then it's much easier to get it."

I hadn't expected to get life coaching from a private dick but hey, who was I to judge? As long as he figured out something that could keep Sammie safe, I didn't care if he had a vision board or a dartboard.

"Miss Scott, answer me this—for real, did you kill him on purpose or was it an accident?" McCall asked.

"I told you it was an accident," Sammie said in a small voice. "He was trying to kill me."

"Do you need to know the answer to that question?" I asked, irritated. "In order to find what we're looking for?"

McCall shook his head. "No, I'm just a naturally curious guy."

"He came after me, we struggled, and the gun went off. I'd been planning on leaving him after he passed out but he came home wanting to hurt me."

"Okay, good," McCall said. "I just wanted to make sure I understood. This is a family who wants revenge for the killing of one of their own. Got it. I'll see what I can find and get back to you as soon as possible." With that, McCall slammed his computer shut and we were disconnected.

I glanced over at Sammie. She seemed so tiny sitting in one of the easy chairs in Atticus's den. Before I could ask her how she was feeling, Chloe scampered into the room, holding Slurfpig to her chest. "Mama, can I have ice cream? Stella said you had to say yes, or I couldn't have it."

"A small bowl," Sammie said. "And remember to say thank you."

My mother had come by to look after Chloe while we were on the call with McCall. When I called to ask her to come over, she hadn't hesitated. God bless her, once she'd arrived, she hadn't asked why Chloe needed looking after. She hadn't commented when the four of us went immediately to Atticus's office, where we remained for the better part of an hour.

But now, I looked up to see Mama in the doorway. "What are you guys doing?" Mama asked.

"Nothing," I said, feeling like a kid caught doing something they weren't supposed to.

"Nothing to worry about, Mama," Atticus said.

"That's not what I asked," Mama said, frowning. "Is someone in trouble?"

"We'll explain it to you later," Sammie said. "You should know what's going on, but right now it's a little complicated for young ears." She discreetly motioned toward Chloe.

"Right, got it. That's good enough for now, but I want answers. I've seen that look on both my boys' faces before, and it usually leads to trouble." Mama held out her hand to Chloe. "Come along, sweetheart. I'll get you that ice cream."

"Do you think we should tell the whole family about this?" Atticus asked after Mama and Chloe were gone. "So that everyone's aware in case trouble comes our way?"

"You mean, like if one of the Underwoods' thugs comes to visit?" I asked.

"That's right," Atticus said.

"I don't want everyone to know." Sammie's eyes filled. "It's so embarrassing."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Annie said. "There are people to blame, but you're not one of them."

"Yes, and in this case, knowledge is power," Atticus said. "If everyone understands what we're up against, then they'll stay alert in the weeks to come."

Sammie's eyes filled. "Thank you. Truly, from the bottom of my heart."

"You're family now," Atticus said. "No thanks are necessary."