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Authors: Connie Johnson Hambley

The Charity (26 page)

BOOK: The Charity
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The article was written by an obvious fan of the young attorney. Attorney General Owen Shea was deeply involved with his community and had kept up the volunteer efforts to help underprivileged youth begun by his wife before her untimely death in a horrible automobile accident several years ago. The article stated that, in spite of the tragic loss of his wife and young child, the young man continued to give back to the community that had helped him through his trying times.

The reporter focused on the young man’s life outside of his demanding career. Owen Shea had carved out a niche for himself fighting organized crime in Boston. His reputation was of one part pit bull and one part vigilante. He was doggedly pursuing one group for its alleged dealings with terrorist organizations including the IRA and its criminal activities in support of those groups. It was widely believed that the death of his wife and child were in retaliation for a series of victories he had. Instead of becoming embittered, he channeled his energies into pursuing an energetic life focused on career and community. The whole gist of the article sounded like a plea for him to take a chance and make a run for Governor of Massachusetts.

Jessica put the paper down briefly as a thought crossed her mind. There was something about the name Owen Shea that sparked bits of memories. She grabbed a discarded
Times
and located the articles on political factions. Eventually, she found a section that mentioned the young attorney general’s efforts against certain groups and his possible run for office. She resolved that she must have seen his name in the
Times
and that was why he seemed familiar.

Gathering the scattered newspapers to put in the trash, a picture in the obituary section of the
Louisville Gazette
caught her attention. The unsettling gaze of two black eyes from a round face stared up from the page. The caption read ‘Rowdy Howe—Outdoors man.’ Jessica snatched the paper up from the pile and read the brief synopsis of the dead man’s life. It stated that he had died in the pursuit of one of his many loves, hiking, and that he was going to be truly missed by everyone, especially those in the racing community. He was known as the ‘Insider’s Insider,’ meaning that he knew the bloodlines and potential of not only the thoroughbreds racing at Churchill Downs, but their owners and trainers too. The final words on the man made an attempt to be charitable, but the impression was that few would truly mourn him.

The paper shook violently in Jessica’s hands in response to her own uncontrolled trembling. She could feel her heart pound and sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades. A headache threatened to consume her. She forced herself to look through the papers again. She made herself stare at Rowdy’s picture. She looked into the unseeing black eyes of the photograph and heard the slow drawl of his words as he pronounced her name “
Why
-iet. Wyeth.” Jessica sat stone still while the effect of the flood of memories paralyzed her. She had no idea how long she sat there.

“Hey, Tess! Are you all right?”

Jessica forced herself out of her internal hell and looked in the direction of the voice. The sun was beginning to set, and her house was nearly dark inside. Only the light beside her chair was on.

She looked up and saw Michael silhouetted in the doorway of her kitchen. “Oh. Hi. Help yourself to coffee.” Her voice was flat despite the inflections she tried to force into it.

“Nope. None left. Are you okay?” Michael strode easily across the room and sat on the old sofa next to her. A streak of concern creased his brow.

Jessica took in a deep breath and tried to resist the energy that Michael exuded. His dynamism always caught her by surprise and drew her to him, but she would not let the effect he had on her impact her thinking. She had to be sharp. Looking at his casual attire of jeans and a sweatshirt she said, “Day off?” Again, unwanted flatness bordering on contempt crept into her voice.

“Just finished. The Human Hurricane booked me on the late shift of helpers for today. I just stopped in to see if you wanted anything special done with the horses for tonight’s bedding down.”

Jessica smirked. “I’ll just bet that you’re the only one scheduled to help out this evening. And I’ll bet that the dinner ‘someone’ dropped off tonight includes a bottle of wine.”

“Right on both points. You’ve been maneuvered into a quiet dinner with me,
after
I’ve performed the required chores.” He looked around at the scattered papers. “What are you doing?”

“I... I was just relaxing.”

“You look kind of pale. Hoyt said you’ve been getting some bad headaches.”

“I’m fine. Really. Let’s get going, okay?”

Displaced feelings of anxiety settled on Electra’s unending attempts at matchmaking. Jessica resolved to make tonight’s attempt the last. The required ‘reporting’ of dinner must convince Electra that matching the Harlan County Sheriff with ‘Tess White’ would be a failure. Jessica tried to straighten out her thoughts as best as she could. Rowdy Howe’s death was connected to her somehow, and she did not want to learn why. The evening must have two desired outcomes. The first would stop Electra’s maddening efforts at playing cupid, and the second would be that tonight’s dinner conversation would convince Michael that she fell off the roof to drive him off the scent of burglary. She resolved to be as relaxed and charming as she could.

Michael and Jessica walked out to the barn. The air had sharpened to a fine point which the wind drove further into them. Jessica spent a long time looking at Snugs. The mare was beginning to show the stresses of pregnancy and was nearing the time to have her foal.

“It won’t be long now, girl.” Jessica rubbed the big neck and gave the mare sugar lumps she always carried in her pocket. “Doesn’t your friend want to visit his horse? I haven’t even had a chance to update him on her condition.”

“He has too many other animals he’s dealing with right now. I guess the sire of this foal is of a lesser heritage than he cares for, so as long as he knows she’s in good hands, that’s the extent of his interest.” Michael completed the distribution of the evening’s feedings of grain and hay, wielding the pitchfork and wheelbarrow with ease.

“I thought you didn’t know your way around a barn. By the looks of it, someone might get the feeling you’ve done this before.” Jessica leaned up against a beam and crossed her arms.

“Living in this part of the country, you have to do all sorts of things to help out your neighbors. Tending horses is just part of the job.” Michael finished mucking out the stalls and threw extra wood shavings into Snugs’ stall. The mare responded to his presence with an affectionate nuzzle.

“I guess she knows a softy when she sees one. It seems like she knows you pretty well. I thought you only transported her for a friend? Usually that wouldn’t be enough of a contact for a horse to remember someone.”

“Yeah. I lucked out. Here, let me help you with that.” Michael walked forward and helped Jessica rake the loose hay from the corridor and slide the massive door of the barn shut behind them.

They were both relieved to get back to the warmth of Jessica’s kitchen. The casserole and fresh bread filled the air with a comforting aroma. Jessica reached into the cabinet and retrieved dishes and mismatched stemmed glasses for the wine, bracing for the sharp pain in her ribs that did not come. Good. She was getting better.

Michael made a fire in the living room’s brick hearth. He poured her a glass of wine and offered it to her.

“It’s nice to see you. From our last conversation, I wondered what would happen.”

Jessica felt the now familiar jolt as he looked at her. “Michael. Look. I’m sorry I behaved so poorly. It’s just that what you were saying didn’t make any sense to me. That fall from the roof knocked my memory right out of me.” She smiled at her own faint attempt to make a joke. “After everyone had said I was just a lunatic on a leaking roof in a storm, you come along and tell me about some burglar. And a dead one at that. Nothing made any sense. I’m just glad it’s over and done with.” Jessica placed added emphasis on the last sentence to indicate her unwillingness to be interrogated further on the subject.

“You’re right, Tess. I was wrong to tell you what I did,” Michael said, looking directly at her.

Jessica accepted the easy victory. She took a mouthful of wine and swallowed it slowly. “I was surprised to learn that you were a cop.”

“Ha! Surprised? I guess you weren’t paying attention. I must have passed you a dozen times while I was on duty before we met and two dozen more afterward.” He paused and studied her face thoughtfully. “Why? Don’t you like the police?”

“I, ah, it’s just that, well no, I mean, of course I do.”

“Forget I said that. I guess that’s my stupid way of getting someone to open up. I just want to get to know you a little better, that’s all. All I know about you is that you’re fantastic with horses and have a soft spot for mentally handicapped kids. I’d like to know more about where you came from.”

She opted for selected information. “I moved to Perc from Saddle String, Utah. I worked on some ranches out there during the warm months and was a ski patrol and part-time instructor at local ski resorts, like Solitude and Snowbird. I heard about this great deal on a small farm and had to check it out myself. It was love at first sight. Lainely Smythe did her best not to sell it to me, but I guess the sellers were more eager for the sale than she was. Funny, huh? You would think a Realtor would jump on a chance to sell a long-forgotten piece of property.”

Michael nodded. “There were some rumors around town that she wanted this piece of property for herself. She was waiting for the price to drop even further.”

“I heard that too. I heard one person say that she wanted to develop this land and had to purchase it at a low enough price to save her money for the legal fight she would have had with the town to get the zoning approved.”

“Sounds like you’re hearing the same rumors I am.”

Jessica liked that the conversation had veered away from her and onto Lainely. She kept the momentum going. “Of all of the people I’ve seen up here giving me a hand, she is one person I’ve missed.”

“Missed? Well, I think she still might be feeling de-throned by you. She used to be the princess of Perc until you arrived. You even look better in her clothes than she does.” A mischievous glint flashed into his eyes.

Jessica blushed. She was happy to be wearing a bulky pullover with her jeans. “I
hated
that dress. I would hope that she can take some solace in knowing that wearing that thing caused me a bundle of embarrassment.” She relaxed a bit more as they shared the joke.

“Tess. Have you considered that maybe someone would like it better if you weren’t here?”

Jessica heard the question and focused her response on Lainely. “I think Lainely just needs to get used to the idea that there is a new face in town. I really don’t think that she, or anyone else, is interested in my little spot on the mountain.”

“You don’t think so? Then what do you think happened here that night, Tess?” Michael had sat forward and grasped the wine glass in his two hands held between his knees. “I’m more than a little intrigued with ‘Tess White.’ A new face in a small town like Perc was bound to get noticed, but you had something more. My usual inquiries always received the same answer. No one knew anything about you or your family. After your fall, I took the opportunity and made more formal inquiries. I spoke briefly to the foreman at the ranch. What was his name? Jake somebody. He was genuinely concerned for you and offered any assistance he could. Nice enough guy. But he has the same trouble with you that I do. You can’t be traced back further than Utah.”

She tried to hold in her growing rage. “Is this just an extension of your official interrogation? Is this the way you try to get information from people? If so, I’m not interested in talking to you about anything. The roof leaked. I went to fix it. I fell. There. That’s it. No burglary. No story. I’m done.” Jessica’s hands trembled as she took a gulp of wine to steady them.

“Tess. I’ve got to be straight with you.” Michael put down his glass and clasped his hands together in a motion of deep thought. He looked into the eyes of the woman seated across from him and was confused by what he saw. In one instant, she was relaxed and happy and in the next, she took on the look of a cornered animal. He knew he had to continue to press her. “I let you think that what happened here the night you fell may have been a burglary. Now I know it wasn’t. What I don’t know is why Rowdy Howe was here and why you had to fight him off.”

Jessica gasped. “I never said such a thing! He’s dead now. The paper said it was a hiking accident.”

“The papers said ‘accident’ since that’s what the imbecile coroner ruled. His was the body we found over the ridge. Someone didn’t want him identified too easily. He had mostly large stab wounds made to look like an animal mauled him. Everything was picture perfect except for one mark on his arm. It was made by a long nail gouged into him. The skin was the same I found on a nail in your upstairs room. It was right under the attic door you clawed your way into that night. Rowdy was the man who made you so upset at Electra’s party. What was so important that he had to break into your house and be killed for his efforts?”

Jessica shook uncontrollably. She forced her hands down on her thighs and willed them to be steady. “I... I don’t know.” Her voice was faint, and she could barely hear herself against the increasing ringing in her ears. She looked at Michael with eyes that pleaded with him to stop.

He would not. “Tess. I checked with the Utah Department of Motor Vehicles. I found your license on his body so I thought I could track down some relatives or friends for you to help you out. The DMV had a record of a Tess White who had her driving privileges revoked five years ago when she reached 89 years old. They showed that it was reissued nearly two years ago after a clerk was convinced of, um, administrative errors.”

Jessica paced the room and wrung her hands red. Michael had found out more about her than she anticipated. She thought she was adept at deceit but now she tangled in her own web. She slowly realized his conversation was a trap that had sprung into place.

BOOK: The Charity
12.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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