Fall 2012, Dutton
As Kate left the library, she was so upset by Will’s reaction that she almost missed Doris calling to her from down the block.
“Hey, how are you?” Doris asked, running up to her and giving her a hug. “I tried calling you.”
Kate glanced past Doris and down the street. She noticed two of Trudy’s friends standing on the corner, looking their way and whispering.
“You’re not afraid to be seen talking to me?”
Doris followed Kate’s gaze, then turned toward her and took her arm. “Bunch of narrow-minded people,” she muttered. “Let’s really give them something to gossip about.” She tugged on Kate. “We’re going to the Four Corners Café for coffee.”
Kate pulled back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said with hesitation.
“Sure it is,” Doris answered with a wink. “You’re not going to let those old busybodies scare you, are you?”
Kate took a deep breath and fell into step next to Doris. When they entered the café, all conversation ceased and all eyes turned toward them. She lifted her chin a notch and, following Doris, breezed past them to a booth in the back.
“That was fun,” Kate muttered after taking a seat, and the hum of conversation resumed.
After placing their order, Doris leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
Kate related the events of her arrest, and when she’d finished, Doris nodded.
“Rose did good. Darwin Brown has a statewide reputation.”
“I don’t know.” She paused for a moment. “I might regret it.”
She explained her disagreement with Rose and how threatened she’d felt by Will.
“I don’t understand it, Doris. On the one hand, they talk like the past doesn’t matter—yet at the same time, they won’t talk about it.”
Doris dumped creamer and two packets of sugar into her coffee. “People have long memories, and Will was right—his great-grandfather worked hard to establish his reputation.” She slowly stirred her coffee. “Because of his mother, he had to overcome a lot of prejudice. Joe’s murder has everyone riled up, and they’ve begun to rehash Jacob’s. Willie’s reputation might lose some of its glimmer in the process.”
“You know Will’s family. Did you know that they’ve always believed Joseph might have somehow engineered what happened to Hannah?”
“It doesn’t surprise me. It’s my guess that there’s been a lot of closed-door discussions lately. Will has always acted like the past isn’t a big deal, but I don’t know if I believe it.”
“But his family’s done well.”
Doris chortled. “You bet they have. They could buy and sell Joe’s side of the family ten times over.”
“No kidding?” Kate’s eyes widened in surprise. “I never would’ve suspected that from the way Will acts.”
“They’ve always kept it on the down low, and his family’s never bragged or lorded it over people. They’ve been more concerned about carrying on the legacy they feel they inherited from Willie.”
“Philanthropy and social activism.”
“Exactly. They’ve been involved in Essie’s House from the beginning. The money for the new mental health clinic at Braxton County Hospital came from them.”
“And Will’s afraid that this could hurt his family’s reputation?” Kate shook her head. “I’m not buying it. There has to be more to it than that.”
Doris laid a hand on the table. “No—listen—they’ve dedicated decades to preserving the way this community sees them. If it were you, how far would you go to protect that? Any scandal—even an old one—might damage it.”
“Trudy hinted that there might be a few skeletons rattling around.”
“Did she say what?”
“No, she talked about the night Jacob was killed—said only Hannah and Willie were in the house that night.” She thought for a moment. “She made a vague reference to Willie being present when the county attorney died.” Kate lifted an eyebrow. “Which made Will mad when I brought it up.”
Doris leaned forward, her face animated. “You don’t suppose? Nah.” She waved a hand. “That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“Suppose Willie killed Jacob?” she asked in a whisper.
“That’s a terrible thought,” Kate said in a stunned voice. “He was a child.”
“A child who’d witnessed his mother’s abuse at the hands of his father.”
“That’s crazy,” Kate answered with a shake of her head.
Doris sat back deflated. “I suppose you’re right. By all accounts, Willie grew to be a peaceful, gentle man. Not someone you’d suspect of committing patricide.”
A strange thought popped into Kate’s mind, but she failed to share it with Doris.
What if Willie’s life hadn’t been driven by selflessness, but by a need for redemption?
All the talk with Doris had planted suspicion in Kate’s mind. No matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, their reaction to her interest in Hannah had been abnormal. They were desperate to keep the past buried. She’d been a fool to blindly trust people she barely knew. Not only did the friendship between Rose and Will go back for years, Will was connected to Rose’s pride and joy—Essie’s House.
After pulling into the driveway, Kate sat in the Jeep, her mind racing. It was as if her doubts opened a floodgate of crazy ideas and she couldn’t move.
Joe had been jealous of Will and he knew something damaging about Will’s family.
Joe was in financial trouble. Will’s family had money.
No, she thought, trying to shove her theories away.
She failed. She’d already started to wonder if Will was bitter over his lost heritage and had argued with Joe. What had Doris said? How far would you go to protect a reputation that had taken years to build? Kate couldn’t stop the idea forming in her mind.
Had Joe attempted to blackmail Will? Had Will killed him to protect his secrets?
There—the questions were asked, and they made her sick.
Rose had hired Darwin Brown. They were setting her up, just like Hannah had been.
Discouraged, Kate dragged herself into the house and the first thing she heard was that damn music box with its skipping tune.
“That’s it,” she muttered, striding over to the box and slamming the lid.
She looked around quickly and didn’t spot Trudy. After tucking the box under her arm, she hurried from the house and crossed the yard to Joe’s office. After opening the door, she paused. The last day she entered this room had been the day Joe died. The memories of the hope she’d felt that day turned her mouth sour.
Squaring her shoulders, she moved to Joe’s desk and started to rummage for a small screwdriver. She finally found one small enough.
She sat in the chair and studied the box, screwdriver in hand. In a way, she hated dismantling the antique, but the constant missed note was driving her crazy. There wasn’t much in her life that she could fix at this point, but at least she could do something about this.
Carefully, she removed the movement from inside the box and placed the box on the floor. Leaning over, she studied it. One of the prongs responsible for playing the tune was missing.
She bent over in the chair and lifted the lid of the box. The missing prong lay in its corner—right next to words someone had roughly carved into the bottom.
THE SINS OF THE FATHER