Hannah frowned at the pictures of the finches and took another sip of wine. Why were the males of the species always so much more flamboyant than the females? Show-offs.
She cocked her head. Jed had stopped clanking pots and pans in the kitchen. “Did you find the dishwashing liquid in the pantry?”
He appeared before her on silent feet, a dark cloud marring his features. “I got sidetracked.”
“Sidetracked?” She wrinkled her nose. Jed always did have a fascination for that pantry.
“Yeah, I tripped over the box containing files about my case.”
Her heart skipped in her chest, and she put one hand over it. “I—I can explain that.”
His jaw tight, Jed crossed his arms. If a face ever personified, “I’m waiting and I won’t believe you, anyway,” Jed’s had it down.
“Sit down.” She shoved the computer from her lap and patted the cushion next to her. “Please.”
He rolled his broad shoulders and took the seat next to her on the couch, his weight causing her to tip to the side, her shoulder tapping his. He shifted away from her.
“I wasn’t checking up on you or trying to verify the evidence that cleared you.”
“Or looking for clues that would tie me to Zoey’s murder?”
She whipped her head back and forth, her ponytail lashing the side of her face. “Don’t be absurd. I, and everyone else, know you had nothing to do with Zoey’s murder...or Stephanie’s.”
“Thanks for throwing Stephanie in there, too.” The corner of his eye twitched.
“When we were at the Mitchells’ you accused my father of setting you up for Zoey’s rape.” She scooped in a deep breath. “It got me thinking. I knew he kept notes on cases at home, and I wondered if he’d kept anything about yours that would implicate him.”
He rubbed at the twitch. “Why would he do that? He’d want to destroy any evidence, not enshrine it in a memory book.”
“You didn’t know my father.”
“Maybe if I had known him better, I never would’ve allowed myself to fall into his trap. I realized he didn’t approve of the two of us getting closer, but I never imagined in my wildest dreams that he’d go so far as to set me up for a crime. Once I was serving my sentence, I had a lot of time to think and piece things together.” He smacked his hand on the arm of the couch. “That’s when I figured out what he’d done.”
“But what did he do and why?” She held up her hands. “I know you believe he did it to break us up, but he could’ve achieved that a number of ways. Trust me. He still held the purse strings. He could’ve threatened to cut me off, not pay my college tuition, taken away my car.” She lifted one shoulder. “I wasn’t very strong back then. We’d had a long friendship but had just started getting romantic.”
“So, you would’ve taken the car over me?”
She searched his face for a telltale sign of humor—the raised eyebrow, the quirk in his lips—nothing.
She cleared her throat. “I’m just saying, my dad ruled the house. My mom never said one word against him, totally did his bidding.”
“Like pretending to mail your letters to me?”
“Exactly.” She brushed her hands together. “But back to the point. My father didn’t need to send you to prison to keep us apart. If he did set you up, and I’m not disagreeing that’s a possibility, he must’ve had another reason. You didn’t have anything on him, did you?”
“Me?” He poked himself in the chest. “Dumb kid from the wrong side of the falls? If I did have anything on the sheriff, I would’ve used it. I didn’t know a thing about your father—except that he didn’t much like me.”
“Okay, that’s why I went into the attic to snoop around. As I pointed out before, you didn’t know my father. He held on to everything related to work.” She pointed at the ceiling. “That’s why he has those boxes up there. All his case files would be at the station and all digitized by now. He had no reason to save boxes of stuff from work, but he did.”
“You think he went up there and caressed his files or something?”
“Ugh. Don’t put that image in my head.” She stuck out her tongue. “He had a huge ego. If he pulled off something like setting you up for a crime, he’d want to hold on to that proof.”
“Sort of like a serial killer hanging on to trophies?”
“You’re determined to give me nightmares about my father, aren’t you?” She trailed her fingers down Jed’s forearm, corded with veins and muscle. “Do you believe me? That I didn’t have some nefarious reason for snagging that box from the attic?”
He glanced down at her fingers and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Just gave me an unwelcome shock when I saw it in the pantry. I thought you were...investigating me.”
“I don’t need to investigate you, Jed Swain.” Her eyelashes fluttered beneath the intense stare from his dark eyes. “I know you inside and out.”
Weaving his fingers into her hair, he cupped the back of her head and landed a savage kiss on her mouth. “Don’t be so sure of that, Hannah. You knew a boy, and now I’m a man—an ex-con.”
She put her fingers to her throbbing lips as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Don’t call yourself that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never should’ve been in prison, and now everyone knows that.”
He released her, the fire dying from his eyes as a sad smile played across his mouth. “Doesn’t alter the fact that I did time. That changes a man.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Who was she to argue with him? He may have changed, but that kiss proved the chemistry between them still sizzled.
Bracing his hands on his knees, he pushed up from the couch. “Did you find anything?”
“In the box?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that Jed had loosened from her ponytail. “I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”
“I meant on the finches.” He strolled into the kitchen and started running water in the sink.
Her mouth gaped open for a second. He wasn’t interested in what she discovered about her father or his case?
Clutching her empty wineglass, she followed him into the kitchen. She sidled next to him at the sink and rinsed out her glass. “You’re not curious about what’s in the box?”
Jed swirled the suds in the baking pan with the dish sponge and seemed mesmerized by the little whirlpool he’d created. Then he dumped the water down the drain. “I don’t know if I want to find out how he did it or even why. It’s enough that he ruined...no, interrupted my life. He didn’t ruin it. I never gave him that satisfaction or power over me.”
She bumped his hip with hers. “Well, I am curious, especially now that someone has murdered Zoey.”
“What does Zoey’s murder have to do with anything?” He rinsed the dish and reached across her for a dry towel.
“Just got me thinking about her. If my dad did set you up, he had to have been doing so with Zoey’s knowledge or approval. Zoey knew damned well you didn’t rape her. If my father tweaked some evidence or planted something, she would’ve known about it.”
“Your father knew Zoey from her friendship with you, right?” Jed flicked the dish towel over his shoulder. “I can’t imagine he’d let you hang out with someone without fully vetting her first.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Zoey came over when my father was home. They exchanged casual conversation, just like any of my friends...just like with you.”
He snorted. “My conversations with your father didn’t fall into the category of casual. The man grilled me half the time.”
“How come you never told me that?” She snatched the towel from his shoulder and hung it on the oven handle. “I never heard him giving you the third degree.”
“It didn’t bother me, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.” He shook his head. “I never realized his suspicions of me would turn into a vendetta.”
“I want to find out why.” She jabbed her finger toward the pantry. “And I’m going to start with that box.”
Hooking a thumb in his belt loop, he asked, “Are there more?”
“This box had the date of the crime on it. There was another box that contained supplies from his desk—maybe from when he retired. With everything that’s been happening around here, I haven’t had a chance to look through it.” She nudged him. “Do you want to start now?”
“I thought we were supposed to be researching finches.”
“We haven’t had much luck with that, have we? I even tried ‘symbolism of finches’ and ‘ceremonies with finches’—didn’t find a thing.”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Ceremonies with finches? I would hope you didn’t find anything about that. That’s just weird.”
“I was desperate.” She crooked her finger at him. “The box?”
“Okay.” He yanked at the paper towel roll and tore off a length of paper. “Let’s get some of that dust off first.”
He followed her to the pantry, and she opened the door. He crouched beside the box and ran the paper towel over the lid and down the sides, picking up a gray film of dust. Then he wadded up the paper and hoisted the box in his arms. “Where to?”
“Put it on the coffee table in the family room.” She scurried ahead of him. “I’ll move my laptop over.”
When she got to the family room, she shoved her laptop to one side of the coffee table and patted the gleaming wood surface. “Right here.”
Jed lowered the box to the table and lifted the cardboard lid. Sitting on the edge of the couch, he peered into the box. “Files, papers, photos. This stuff isn’t official, is it? Or copies of official case documents? He retired. He probably shouldn’t have taken those.”
“I have no idea. My father did what he wanted with that department.” She sat beside him and dug into the box before lifting out a sheaf of papers.
Jed flipped open a file folder. “These are copies of the statements. This is Zoey’s statement—her false statement.”
She leaned over his arm and ran her finger down the page. She tapped some words highlighted in yellow. “What did he mark here?”
Jed squinted at the page. “The time of the so-called attack.”
“She said it was between eleven and midnight.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “You remember that?”
“I remember because you were at my place that night, and you left your wallet here.” She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “The wallet they never found at your house.”
“Yeah, the wallet that was part of my alibi. I had driven to the all-night convenience store when I left your place but before I even walked inside, I realized I’d left my wallet at your house.”
“You should’ve called me or driven back over. Then I could’ve been your alibi.” She swiped the back of her hand across her tingling nose.
“Thank God you weren’t dragged into it any more than you already had been.” He flicked the edge of Zoey’s statement with his finger. “If I hadn’t left my wallet, I would’ve walked into that store, maybe talked to Jerry for a while. I would’ve bought my beer and had a receipt to prove my presence there. Instead, the camera on the parking lot wasn’t working properly, and I didn’t have any other way to prove I was there. Jerry never saw me drive up on the side of the store. Nobody walking in or out at the time.”
“And then you drove to the falls by yourself.” She gave a little shiver. So many innocent choices conspired against Jed that night. “And we never found your wallet. At least if the wallet had been at our house, that would’ve supported your explanation of why you didn’t go inside the store.”
“Yeah, my wallet conveniently disappeared from your house and turned up near Zoey’s place.”
“D-do you think my father had something to do with that, too?”
“Of course.” His fingers dug into the paper underneath his hand, crinkling it. “Maybe that’s why he circled the time of the assault on Zoey’s statement—he needed to destroy my alibi.”
Hannah put her hand to her mouth. “It’s so diabolical, but I can’t believe my father did all that just to keep us apart. Hell, we might’ve gone our separate ways when I returned to college in the fall, anyway.”
“Do you believe that?” He smoothed the wrinkled piece of paper against the folder in his lap. “I don’t know if I’d have ever let you go once you were mine.”
Her breath caught in her throat. At that time, she’d already spent her freshman year away at college, dating other boys, even losing her virginity to someone else, but Jed had always been on her mind through it all.
She traced the tip of her finger along his bunched knuckles. “I guess we’ll never know now.”
His gaze dropped to her parted lips, but this time he blinked and flipped the folder shut. “I don’t know that it matters now why he did it or even how. I’m sure he found my wallet at this house and planted it outside Zoey’s house. That wasn’t enough to convict me, but it didn’t look good.”
“I think I need to know.”
“Maybe you do.” He rubbed his eyes and dropped the folder into the box. “I need to know what happened to Michael’s sister. Do you think you can use those keys and let me into Zoey’s house?”
“Sure.” She tossed a pen back into the box. She owed him that—and a lot more, if her father really did set him up. “I’m going to be pretty busy tomorrow. I have another appointment with Sheldon, and I may be talking to Stephanie’s daughter, too.”
“Sounds like a tough day.” He rose to his feet and snagged his hoodie from the chair, then patted the pocket for the bagged bird. “If I get any more information from Michael about his sister, I’ll let you know so you’ll have some background dealing with Chrissy.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She circled the air over the box with her finger. “I’m still going to look through this box.”
“You do that.” Siggy had jumped up on the back of the couch, and Jed scratched behind his ear. “Sorry about the bird, buddy. Maybe I’ll bring you something, next time, you can sink your claws into.”
Hannah’s mouth lifted on one side. At least it sounded like he’d be back—and he liked Siggy.
“I’ll keep looking into the significance of finches.” He shoved his arms into the hoodie. “Thanks for dinner.”
She swept up Siggy as she walked Jed to the front door. She didn’t want any awkwardness between them while saying goodbye. Would he kiss her? Did she expect him to? Did she even want him to? Siggy would function as a barrier between them.
Jed stepped onto the porch and stroked the pad of his thumb over the stripes on Siggy’s head. “I’ll update you if I discover anything, and if you’re too busy tomorrow, I can take Zoey’s keys and let myself in.”
She smacked his upheld palm with her hand. “That would be a very bad idea, and you know it. I’m sure I can find some time tomorrow to go out there. My session with Sheldon might even warrant another visit—at least that’s what I’ll tell the sheriff’s department when they ask me about the keys.”
“That’s a deal.” He rubbed his hand on his thigh. “And, Hannah? Don’t get too lost in that box.”
She ducked her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow when I have a better idea of when I can go to Zoey’s house.”
He gave Siggy a final pat on the head, and then turned toward the long path and the driveway where he had parked his truck.
She watched him lope to his vehicle. He turned when he reached it and raised his hand.
She shut the door, leaned against it and sighed. Why couldn’t things be easy with Jed anymore, like they used to be? She’d felt more comfortable with him than anyone else. That’s when, after a year of college, she realized that what they shared could blossom into something more than a friendship.
He must’ve realized the same thing at the same time. The heat between them positively sizzled that summer—and that’s when the problems with Zoey started.
She pushed away from the door and obliged Siggy, twisting in her arms, by releasing him. He jumped onto the floor and sniffed under the kitchen table in the hopes she and Jed had dropped some food.
“Jed’s already teaching you bad habits, isn’t he? Don’t think you’re going to get table scraps from me at dinnertime.”
Jed had done a good job cleaning the kitchen, leaving her nothing to do but hit the lights.
She threw a final glance at the box on the coffee table before going upstairs. She’d thought Jed would’ve shown more eagerness about going through those files. He was so confident in the truth about her father that he didn’t need to see any proof. But she did.
She trudged up the steps to her bedroom. She didn’t want to deal with it now. She had to prepare her office tomorrow for two lost, traumatized children.
She rushed through her bedtime routine, skipping the floss, and crawled between the covers and pulled her pillow in for a hug. What would it be like to sleep with Jed? They’d never gotten any further than a kiss—then or now. And the kiss he’d planted on her tonight was completely different from the shy, tentative smooches he’d teased her with many years ago. She tapped her bottom lip, which still buzzed with the sensation.
Siggy’s mad dash into the bedroom and under her bed startled her out of her daydreams. Hannah leaned over the bed and lifted the bed skirt. Siggy’s eyes glowed back at her in the dark.
“What is your problem?” Hannah scooted farther off the bed and reached for the cat, her hand skimming over his quivering fur.
She flicked on the bedside lamp with unsteady fingers. The only thing that spooked Siggy like this was an unwelcome visitor.
Hannah swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet hitting the area rug that protected her from the cold hardwood. She said aloud for her benefit as well as Siggy’s, “There can’t be anyone inside the house. The alarm would’ve gone off.”
She padded across the floor and stuck her head out the bedroom door, holding her breath. Only the sounds of the creaking house met her straining ears.
She crept downstairs, wishing she had one of her father’s pistols locked and loaded in her hand. She’d left Siggy by the bay window in the family room that had a view of the front yard.
Kneeling on the window seat’s cushion, she cupped her hand against the glass and peered outside, her breath fogging the window. She stared into the pitch black, and then pulled back with a gasp.
The porch light should be illuminating the scene. The bulbs over the driveway were connected to motion sensors, but the porch light stayed on all night. It had been on when she ushered Jed out the front door.
She tiptoed to the door and disabled the alarm. She unlocked it and eased it open.
Her heart slammed against her chest when she spied the broken glass from the bulbs that usually lit up the porch. But then it stopped cold when she saw the dead bird next to it.