Chapter Thirteen

Luke Butler sat across from me at the table in the Lilac Room at Turner Family Funeral Home the next morning. He’d relented and let me go home the night before. He’d arrived so hot under the collar I thought he was going to arrest me to get me to go to the station to answer questions. I won’t lie. I shed some tears. He agreed to wait until the next day. He also agreed to come to me since my car was currently being processed as a crime scene.

Luke rubbed his hand over his face. He looked tired and a bit older. Or maybe I was starting to see him for who he was now rather than the obnoxious high school boy who had been close to the bane of my existence. “So you were going around town confronting blackmail victims in order to ascertain which one might also be a murderer?” he asked.

It wasn’t how I would have described it, but it wasn’t factually incorrect so I said, “Pretty much.”

He slammed his fist down on the table. “Damn it, Desiree!”

I jumped. Orion jumped and squeaked. The newspaper on the table shuffled. Uncle Joey stuck his head in the door. “Is everything okay?”

Luke shut his eyes and took several deep breaths before answering. “No. Everything is not okay. Your niece is endangering herself unnecessarily.”

Uncle Joey took a step inside the room. “We’ve tried to dissuade her. She’s hurting business.”

“Well, she damn near became one of your customers last night and I simply won’t have it. I won’t.” I thought he was going to pound his fist again, but he seemed to think better of it. Luke was a big guy, but Uncle Joey was bigger.

This wasn’t actually the response I’d been hoping for. I’d hoped that he would leap into investigative mode. Apparently, Luke didn’t leap anywhere at anytime unless there was a beer involved. I shooed Uncle Joey away. He didn’t need to hear all this. “I didn’t know what else to do,” I said.

He threw his hands up in the air. “Talk to the police? There’s a crazy idea.”

“I tried. You wouldn’t listen,” I reminded him.

Now it was his turn to look chastened. “So give me the names of the people you spoke to.” He pulled out his notepad and pen like he was about to make a grocery list.

I was afraid that was where he was going to go. I shook my head. “Nope.” I needed him to dig out the bullet and check ballistics and fingerprints and all that stuff the super smart people do on those TV shows with the labs and stuff. The people thing? Well, that was going to have to stay with me.

He looked up, surprised. “Why?”

“I’m protecting my sources.” Violet had asserted power over these people by threatening to expose them. They’d all made mistakes. They’d all done things they shouldn’t have done. They’d all found ways to straighten out their lives and to make amends. That deserved to be protected, not threatened.

Luke shoved back in his chair. “So now you’ve got journalistic integrity?”

My face grew hot. I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve always had journalistic integrity. I didn’t have discretion, but integrity I had up the wazoo.” Discreet people didn’t mock their boss on a hot mic. I knew that. It didn’t make me a bad reporter, though.

He blew out a breath and tapped his foot for a few seconds. “I could take you before the court.”

“Go ahead.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I still have Janet Provost on speed dial. You want to go up against her?” I held up my phone.

He shuddered and for good reason. Janet was a damn good lawyer and a formidable opponent. He’d gone up against her before and it hadn’t worked out in his favor. Plus anytime you dealt with her, you’d probably gain five pounds because she also liked to bake. “Can I see what else is in the box? Maybe someone got wind of what you were doing and tried to head you off at the pass? If you haven’t talked to them yet, you can’t have made any promises to them.”

I thought about it. Then I shook my head. I wasn’t sure how many more of the things in the folder were illegal, how many people I’d be getting into trouble, how many people had turned their lives around because of Violet’s threats. I wasn’t sure how my father was involved in the whole mess. “Nope. Definitely not.”

He stood and loomed over me. His fists that were clenched tight enough that the knuckles were turning white. “I can probably subpoena you.”

I shrugged. “Go for it, big guy. Until then, though, it’s time for you to leave.”

If I’d thought the wrath of Luke Butler was the only thing I was going to have to face, I had a whole set of other thinks coming. He was barely out the door when Donna came in and sat down across from me, arms crossed over her chest. Uncle Joey followed her in. He sat on her side of the room. “You promised,” she said.

I cringed. “I know.”

“You pinky swore.”

“I know.”

“You double pinky swore.”

“I know.”

“Then you did whatever you wanted anyway.” She threw her hands in the air. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that if I could prove Violet had really been murdered then everyone would understand that they wouldn’t be randomly accused of killing their loved ones when they brought them to Turner’s.” I crossed my arms over my chest and uncrossed them right away. It pulled at my stitches.

Uncle Joey tilted his head as if he was considering the validity of my statement. Donna did not look like she would ever consider the validity of anything I ever said again. She put her face in her hands. “Someone shot at you. With actual bullets.”

“Bullet, singular. At least, as far as I know.” I reached down to pat Orion.

She straightened up fast and glared at me. “Don’t make jokes about this. It isn’t funny. It’s … it’s …” She didn’t get farther than that. She cried.

“I’m fine,” I said, rushing over to her and kneeling by her chair. “Look. I’m totally fine. It’s only a few stitches.”

She slapped my shoulder. “But you might not have been fine. You might have been hurt. You might have been … dead.” Then the sobbing began in earnest. “Stupid pregnancy hormones.”

Then Orion was there, nosing into our embrace. He pressed his head against the two of us.

It took us a few minutes to get ourselves back together, but we managed it. I got a doggie treat for Orion and tissues for Donna.

Uncle Joey pointed at Orion. “Does he always do that when you cry?”

“I haven’t actually cried that much in front of him, but you should have seen him with Annamarie Oh. He put his chin on her lap and let her cry on him as long as she needed to. She thought he was a therapy dog.” I gave Orion another treat. I mean, he was doing an awfully good job.

Donna went a little still. “We don’t have a therapy dog.”

“I know. It’s not like I told her he was one. She assumed he was one because of how he acted.”

“I understand.” She blew her nose again. “You’re not getting rid of this dog, are you?”

It wasn’t a question. I shook my head. “No. I don’t think I can. I think my heart might break if I did.”

“Then why don’t you find out what you would have to do to make him into a real therapy dog. Then he could earn his keep around here.” She reached down and scratched behind his ears. “Because then you would be a very good dog, a very good dog indeed.”

Orion thumped his back leg.

Then Donna turned back to me. “You really have to drop this Violet Daugherty thing, though. It’s too dangerous.”

I was going to have to come clean and tell her everything so she’d understand why I couldn’t do that. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Color me not surprised.”

I didn’t think the situation called for that much sarcasm, but there were too many important issues here. “There was a picture of dad on that thumb drive of Violet’s.”

She grabbed a tissue and mopped at her eyes. “So?”

“It was a photo of dad in front of a house I didn’t know with a car he didn’t own talking to a little girl I didn’t recognize.”

“Show me,” she demanded.

I went upstairs and got the laptop and thumb drive and came back down. I pulled up the photo and turned the laptop so both Donna and Uncle Joey could see.

Uncle Joey took a shuddery breath.

I reached over and put my hand on top of his. He covered my hand with his other one. It was like being sandwiched by giant paws.

Uncle Joey is a big man and with his size comes a certain kind of gravitas. Not all big men have it, but a lot of the good ones do. They’re aware of their presence and they use it to calm things, to make things more serene, to defuse situations and emotions. Because of that, sometimes their own emotions got overlooked, or at least Uncle Joey’s did.

Except by Zenia. She apparently didn’t overlook them at all.

I was pretty wrapped up in how much I missed my dad. I was aware of the ache that Donna felt when she thought of him. Sometimes I forgot how much Uncle Joey must miss him, too. My dad was more than his brother. He was his business partner and his friend. When Grandpa Turner—a blessed memory—died and left the business to the two of them, there’d been an immediate and easy divvying up of the tasks associated with running a funeral home. Uncle Joey was responsible for the behind the scenes work. Dad took over the front office stuff. I didn’t remember ever seeing them argue about anything. Not that they didn’t disagree. They totally did from time to time. They just didn’t fight about it. They discussed.

When Mom died, Dad wanted to be the one to lay her out. Uncle Joey backed away and let him while staying close enough to steady his hand when it was needed. In the photos we had of Dad and Uncle Joey’s childhoods, they were almost always in the same photo because they were so rarely apart. I asked Dad about it one time. “We get each other,” he’d said. “I never had to explain anything to him and he never had to explain anything to me.”

Uncle Joey had lost that person in his life—a person like Greg was to Donna knowing that she needed the salt before she knew it herself—and instead of losing it like I had, he’d done what he’d always done. He’d provided that big strong solid presence for Donna and me. He’d been our rock. I’d forgotten that sometimes rocks can break.

“No,” Donna said. “No, no, no. We’re not going down this rabbit hole again, Desiree. This photo could have been taken anytime, anywhere.”

“Or it could have been taken a few months ago. I don’t recognize that house or that child. I’m pretty sure that car is the same one I saw months ago out at Cold Clutch Canyon. Back when someone left that little hiking boot charm on my car.” Dad’s old car, I added in my head.

“You can’t tell one gray Element from another. There’s no way.”

She was right about that. I also wasn’t even one hundred percent certain it was even gray anymore. I told them about the storage space, too. “Don’t you think it bears some looking into?”

“You’re losing it, Desiree. You have to drop this stuff about Dad. It’s making you nuts and it’s going to destroy our business, his life’s work.” Donna pounded the table with her fist. Her face had gone red. “My life’s work. Maybe you can decide to waltz out of here whenever you want, but I can’t. If you destroy this place chasing a ghost, you destroy me, too.”

“Don’t you see? This must mean I’m getting somewhere. I’m getting close. Plus, whoever it is that took a shot at me thinks I know more than I do. If I’m right and it’s the same person that killed Violet, they’re willing to do whatever is necessary to keep their secrets. If I don’t push through and find out who it really is, I’ll never be safe. We’ll never be safe. People will always think I make up crazy stories. It’s the only way to stop the destruction of what we’ve built here.” I paused before I brought my next point. “And even Tamara Utley doesn’t think Dad’s a ghost. She said she hasn’t been able to contact him and she’s tried.”

Donna opened her blue eyes wide. “You’re using Tamara Utley as evidence Dad isn’t dead? If there were such a thing as ghosts, Dad’s ghost wouldn’t talk to Tamara. He really didn’t like her.”

I knew she was right, but I felt a little deflated nonetheless.

Uncle Joey asked, “What do you know so far?”

I gave them the rough outlines. The insulin. The blackmail—without details of who and why and how. The strange fact that Violet’s attempts to extort people had actually helped them turn their lives around.

Uncle Joey stroked his beard. “So far everyone you’ve talked to really wouldn’t have any reason to want to kill you, would they?”

I thought about it. “They wouldn’t. Although, I’m not sure anyone was trying to kill me. I think maybe they were trying to scare me, to make me back off a bit.”

Donna shook her head. “They clearly don’t know you well.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Well, that’s one more hint as to who it might be, I guess. Someone who knows who I am, but doesn’t know who I am.”

“Don’t play word games.” Uncle Joey shook his head. “This is serious.”

I held up my hands. I hadn’t meant to play games. “Fine.”

Donna’s face went white and her hand fell to her stomach.

“What? Are you having cramps? A contraction? Do I need to call Greg?” I got halfway up out of my chair, but she motioned me to sit back down.

“No. Not a cramp or a contraction. Just a sharp kick in the ribs.” She settled back onto the couch.

Donna threw her hands in the air. “Desiree, don’t you see how all this highlights why you should be keeping your nose out of this?”

“Which means there’s something there.”

“Which means you should let someone else handle it. Someone like Luke. It’s kind of his job, right?” Donna said.

“This was all sitting there for him to investigate. He didn’t see it. Even after Nate and I pointed it out to him. He certainly doesn’t seem interested in following up on anything I tell him.”

“Don’t you think you getting shot at would make him a believer?” Donna asked. “And one more thing. If Dad disappeared, has it occurred to you that he might not want to be found?”

Before I could answer, the doorbell rang. Uncle Joey went to answer it and came back with Rafe Valdez on his heels. He stopped in the doorway, hands on hips, “What the actual hell, Turner?” he said by way of greeting.

“And top of the morning to you, too, Mr. Valdez.” I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the coffee table. Uncle Joey rolled up a newspaper and whacked my foot with it. I put my feet back down on the floor.

“Are you freaking kidding me? What are you on to that someone is taking pot shots at you?” He sounded angry, which surprised me. I was onto something. My editor should be happy about that. People don’t shoot at reporters when they’re not pursuing something interesting.

“I’m not sure. I thought I the thing with the mayor was the big scoop, but apparently there’s something even bigger.” I sat up straighter, sure that he’d be on my side about digging deeper into whatever it was I was excavating.

“What’s the scoop?” he asked.

What was it? What was in that box that had someone worried enough to shoot at me? “The only thing I know for certain is that this town is way more interesting than I remember it being when I was in high school.”

“I don’t care if it’s bona fide Peyton Place. There is no story worth you getting hurt. None.” He clamped his jaw shut so hard I could almost hear the click.

The front door opened and seconds later, Nate came in. “For once, I agree with Rafe. Are you okay?” he asked, giving me a hug.

“Fine, thanks. You?”

“No one is shooting at me. I’m completely fine. You on the other hand? You I’m not so sure about.”

“Well, I’m fine.” I tucked my injured arm beneath the other one.

Nate sank down into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. “This is because of Violet Daugherty, isn’t it?”

“I can’t prove that yet, but it seems to make sense.”

He put his head in his hands. “This is my fault then. I put you put to this. I encouraged it. I egged you on.”

“I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“You’re responsible for all this?” Donna glared at Nate.

Nate nodded, looking miserable. “But she’s going to stop now, right? We drop it now.”

“Now? Now we know we’re getting somewhere. We can’t drop it.” Now was the time to push forward. It was like the end of a race. You didn’t slow down when you saw the finish line. You turned on the after burners and went for it.

He shook his head. “Desiree, someone shot at you.”

“I was there. I saw the glass shatter. I’m pretty well aware of what happened.” It wasn’t like I didn’t comprehend the issue. I had a near constant throbbing in my arm at the moment to remind me.

He lifted his head and stared at me. “Then you should understand why this needs to stop. It’s too dangerous. We’re dropping this.”

Rafe moved to stand next to Nate. “I agree. This is over. Now.”

I looked over the people standing ranged around me. Every one of them stared at me, jaws set, eyes hard, arms crossed. Suddenly, I felt very tired. I dropped my head. “Fine,” I said. “It’s over.”

I pled exhaustion and took Orion back upstairs with me. I could hear them all still talking downstairs. I didn’t care. I lay down on my bed, but despite feeling like exhaustion was making each one of my legs weigh about eighty pounds, I couldn’t sleep. My mind still raced. I might as well get some work done. I grabbed my laptop and sat up, crisscross applesauce.

I had a long list of e-mails. Most of them were junk. I was about to look for the unsubscribe button on an e-mail from the Fresno Post, but something in the body of the e-mail caught my eye. I scrolled back up to start at the top.

Dear Ms. Turner,

I caught your article on the corruption scandal in Verbena. Excellent work. Great story and great voice in your write-up, too. We’re actually looking to expand our staff here at the Post. We specifically need someone who can bring in stories that impact our readers and can’t be found anywhere else. I’d love to talk to you about the opportunity if you’re interested.

Sincerely,

Loreta Godfrey

I blinked a few times, then reread the e-mail. Then I read it again. A real reporting job. Away from Verbena.

I’d come back because my family needed me and because I had destroyed my career. Now I was destroying their careers and maybe the people of Fresno needed me. It wasn’t like I was getting a whole lot of appreciation from the people of Verbena.

I hit reply.