Small Town Justice. Valerie HansenЧитать онлайн книгу.
that that made much sense.
“That would do it,” Jamie muttered, realizing belatedly that she had actually voiced her conclusion.
One quick peek told her he had heard. Before he could start asking more questions, she said, “In case I didn’t tell you yesterday, thanks for saving my neck.”
“I got the idea you were grateful,” he replied.
A flush of color on his cheeks reminded her of the way she’d thrown herself into his arms after hearing that her little dog was safe and well.
“That hug was for saving Ulysses,” Jamie insisted, once again burying her face in the small dog’s silky fur.
“If you say so.”
“I do. He’s family.” The moment those words were out, she realized she’d opened another can of worms.
“What about the people in your life?” Shane asked.
“I—uh—I was raised by my great-aunt.”
“Your parents...?”
“Are gone,” she said, using the familiar expression to tell the truth while giving the impression both were deceased. For all she knew they might be.
“I’m sorry.”
Jamie Lynn nodded. “Me, too. So, how far is it to my truck? And how long will it take you to fix it?”
“I thought you’d want to go back to the motel. You know, kick back and rest. Maybe grab some lunch.”
“I ate at the hospital and I’ve done nothing but rest since yesterday. What I need is wheels.”
“Fine. We’ll swing by the garage I own so you can see the tire damage for yourself. Believe me, I’m not exaggerating. Nobody could repair those cuts.”
“Do you accept credit cards?”
“Sure. We may be rural but we aren’t primitive.”
Jamie couldn’t help smiling. “Oh? You could have fooled me.” They were passing the antebellum courthouse and modest businesses around the old square. “This place looks like it belongs in history books.”
“It does. One of the battles of the Civil War was fought on Pilot Hill.” He leaned over the steering wheel and pointed. “Right up there where the radio towers are now. See the flashing beacons?”
“Yes.” Leaning back against the seat, she closed her eyes and sighed. There was another page of Serenity’s history that interested her far more—the one that involved her brother and both parents.
As soon as news got out that she was in town to investigate the crime that had destroyed her family, chances were that most folks wouldn’t want to talk to her, let alone offer their help. The current sheriff had studied her as if he were close to figuring out who she really was when he’d interviewed her in the hospital. It was only a matter of time until somebody remembered Jamie Lynn Henderson, put two and two together and got four.
Correction, Jamie Lynn thought. Someone had already added it up. Whether her attackers had found her at the old farm or followed her there, their orders had been clear. They’d said it themselves. It was their job to eliminate her before she made any progress on her brother R.J.’s behalf.
Progress that might not only prove her big brother was innocent of vehicular homicide but also point the finger of guilt at someone else.
She knew she was on the right track precisely because they had sent thugs after her. Although her enemies might be ruthless, they were functioning on an emotional level rather than a rational one. As long as she kept her wits about her and stayed out of abandoned buildings, chances were she’d eventually dredge up enough truth to help her brother get a new trial. In a new venue.
She glanced at her handsome companion, chagrined that her goal was to disprove the accepted story of his father’s death. But could she trust him?
Who she could and couldn’t trust in that town was one of the first things she needed to know. Confiding in the wrong person could be worse than doing nothing.
* * *
As the hours passed, Shane was beginning to think the young woman was never going to ask to be taken to her motel. Considering the way she’d made herself and Useless comfortable in his tiny waiting room, he wondered if she intended to spend the entire afternoon. That would have been troubling by itself. Added to the concentrated attention she was giving him and his workers, it was getting downright creepy.
He pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number of his buddy Charlie.
“Tire shop.”
“It’s Shane again. Any word on those tires I called about?”
“You asked me the same thing an hour ago,” Charlie said. “Keep your shirt on. I’ve checked my own inventory and don’t have four alike but I think I’ve located a good used set in Batesville.”
“Think, or know?” Shane eyed his office through the grimy window between it and the garage. Being the only auto repair shop in town sometimes had its drawbacks. “It looks like she is planning to sit right here until I get her truck back on the road.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t like it.”
“What’s the matter, is she ugly?”
Shane shook his head and turned his back on the window. “No. She’s actually a knockout.”
“So, she’s raising a ruckus?”
“Not that, either. There’s just something strange about her. Maybe it’s the way she’s been staring at me. I don’t know.”
“You saved her life, right?”
Shane nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably got a bad case of hero worship.”
“I suppose that could be it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Give me a call as soon as you know anything definite, will you?”
“If she’s as pretty as you say, why not just enjoy her company?” He chuckled. “If I wasn’t so busy here I’d drop by and take her off your hands.”
Shane was shaking his head as he said, “No way. She’s not that kind of woman. She’s... I don’t know, sort of fragile.”
“Skinny?”
“Not at all. I can’t explain it. All I know is she seems lost. Even lonely. The first time she opened her eyes and looked up at me after the fire she reminded me of an injured deer surrounded by a pack of hungry coyotes.”
“Sounds to me like you’re as scrambled as she is. I’ll get back to you ASAP.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Shane pivoted when he heard the back door slam.
A bundle of energy raced toward him, arms raised, and Shane swung his five-year-old son off the ground. “Hey, buddy. Why are you here so early?”
“Memaw’s gonna go get beautiful.”
“Did you tell her she already is?”
Kyle’s head bobbed, making his honey-blond curls bounce. “Uh-huh. But she didn’t believe me.”
Holding the boy close, Shane looked past him to smile at Marsha. “Hey, Mom, we both think you’re pretty enough.”
“Well, I don’t. Look at all the gray in my hair. I don’t want Otis to start thinking he married an old lady.” She began to fan her overly rosy cheeks and giggle like a love-struck teenager.
It had pleased Shane when his widowed mother had finally fallen in love again and remarried, but it was still hard to picture Otis Bryce as a father figure, let alone see his own mother as a blushing bride. Just short