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Echo Of Danger
Marta Perry
In peaceful Pennsylvania Dutch country, a young mother discovers a shocking danger—and an unexpected allyA whisper of a threat looms over widow Deidre Morris. She and her young son have unwittingly become prisoners of her intimidating father-in-law’s power. One wrong step could find her son torn from her and in the hands of the influential judge. But when Deidre collides with an intriguing stranger, the prospect of a new friendship gives her renewed hope…until a devastating murder rocks the quiet community of Echo Falls and Deidre learns first impressions can’t be trusted.Attorney Jase Glassman’s assignment is straightforward: befriend Deidre, gather incriminating evidence…and allow her dogged father-in-law to take custody of her child. Anything else, including losing himself in her honest charm, will compromise the job he was hired to do. Yet when a murderer ushers danger into the town, Jase’s only instinct is to protect Deidre and her son—no matter the sacrifice.


In peaceful Pennsylvania Dutch country, a young mother discovers a shocking danger—and an unexpected ally
A whisper of a threat looms over widow Deidre Morris. She and her young son have unwittingly become prisoners of her intimidating father-in-law’s power. One wrong step could find her son torn from her and in the hands of the influential judge. But when Deidre collides with an intriguing stranger, the prospect of a new friendship gives her renewed hope...until a devastating murder rocks the quiet community of Echo Falls and Deidre learns first impressions can’t be trusted.
Attorney Jase Glassman’s assignment is straightforward: befriend Deidre, gather incriminating evidence...and allow her dogged father-in-law to take custody of her child. Anything else, including losing himself in her honest charm, will compromise the job he was hired to do. Yet when a murderer ushers danger into the town, Jase’s only instinct is to protect Deidre and her son—no matter the sacrifice.
Praise for Marta Perry (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416)
“Abundant details turn this Amish romantic thriller series launch into a work of art.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Where Secrets Sleep
“Crisp writing and distinctive characters make up Perry’s latest novel. Where Secrets Sleep is a truly entertaining read.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Perry’s story hooks you immediately. Her uncanny ability to seamlessly blend the mystery element with contemporary themes makes this one intriguing read.”
—RT Book Reviews on Home by Dark
“Perry skillfully continues her chilling, deceptively charming romantic suspense series with a dark, puzzling mystery that features a sweet romance and a nice sprinkling of Amish culture.”
—Library Journal on Vanish in Plain Sight
“Leah’s Choice, by Marta Perry, is a knowing and careful look into Amish culture and faith. A truly enjoyable reading experience.”
—Angela Hunt, New York Times bestselling author of Let Darkness Come
“Leah’s Choice is a story of grace and servitude as well as a story of difficult choices and heartbreaking realities. It touched my heart. I think the world of Amish fiction has found a new champion.”
—Lenora Worth, author of Code of Honor
Echo of Danger
Marta Perry


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416),
Welcome to Echo Falls, a small Amish and English community in north-central Pennsylvania, where the isolation builds both a strong sense of community and a dangerous habit of keeping secrets. When someone or something threatens to reveal those secrets, the danger can be very real and very deadly.
I love writing about isolated communities, because that creates a sense of danger lurking around every familiar corner. In Echo of Danger, Deidre’s daily balancing act between her devotion to her child and the task of placating her powerful father-in-law becomes horrifically complicated by the murder of a close friend—in Deidre’s own house. Nothing, she finds, can be more dangerous than trusting the wrong person.
Please let me know how you feel about my story. I’d be happy to send you a signed bookmark and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can email me at marta@martaperry.com, visit me at www.Facebook.com/martaperrybooks (http://www.Facebook.com/martaperrybooks) or at www.martaperry.com (http://www.martaperry.com), or write to me at HQN Books, 195 Broadway, 24th FL, New York, NY 10007.
Blessings,


This story is dedicated to my husband, Brian, with much love.
Death isn’t the greatest loss in life.
The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.
—Amish proverb
Contents
Cover (#uc0756dea-e7f8-54a8-90a7-efb8f9324f28)
Back Cover Text (#ucd898fdc-9870-54ff-a986-4787e22254f6)
Praise (#ub846f74b-0961-5cbe-961b-9d1ec2d47d4c)
Title Page (#u86bb5f1f-7960-54e7-82a6-cec452860a3d)
Dear Reader (#u7ccc6713-8a5f-5f2d-ad3c-80276b4b2448)
Dedication (#ua3980d42-7dfb-5de2-be7e-234ed2a2a4a9)
Epigraph (#ua2593335-0059-5b70-9fc4-9bd600ae561c)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua2b1a9dd-baed-580b-8de5-3be0e222bee1)
CHAPTER TWO (#ua1de6e4a-54de-58b5-9207-ade9e72096ff)
CHAPTER THREE (#u83924395-dee4-5f7e-ae7c-5f4ebf342f41)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u56766b60-f0b4-5381-81bf-37fa6f0274f9)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416)
HER FATHER-IN-LAW SET down the coffee she’d poured for him and glanced around Deidre Morris’s sunny, country-style kitchen. “I’ve found a buyer for your house.”
The seemingly casual words, dropped into what had supposedly been an impromptu visit to see his grandson, sent ripples of alarm through Deidre. Her own cup clattered, nearly missing the saucer. “I... What did you say?”
Judge Franklin Morris gave her the look he’d give an unprepared attorney in his courtroom. “I said I’ve found a buyer for you. He’s offering the best price you can expect for a place like this. And you’ll be able to move into Ferncliff by the end of the month.”
Deidre pressed suddenly cold hands against the top of the pine table that had belonged to her grandparents. She should have guessed that there was something behind this visit. Judge Morris was far too busy to drop in on anyone. And nothing he said was ever casual.
She was going to have to take a firm line, clearly, and that wasn’t easy with a man who was accustomed to speaking with the force of law. Stupid, she lectured herself. He can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, even if he is Kevin’s grandfather.
“I’m afraid there’s some misunderstanding. I have no intention of selling this house.” And certainly not of moving into the chilly mansion where every moment of the day was governed by her formidable father-in-law’s wishes.
“I realize you have a sentimental attachment to your family home.” He seemed to make an effort to sound patient. “But since you won’t have any need of the house once you and Kevin move in with us, selling seems the sensible solution. You can invest the money for the future. However, if you prefer to rent, I suppose that can be arranged.” He’d begun to use his courtroom voice by the end of his little speech.
But she was neither a plaintiff nor a defendant. And this house had been home to her family for three generations, now four. “I don’t want to rent or sell. This is my home, mine and Kevin’s. This is where I plan to live.” Surely that was clear enough.
The judge’s face stiffened, making it look very much like the portrait of him that hung in the county courthouse, marking his twenty years on the bench. The firm planes of his face, the small graying moustache, the piercing gray eyes—all seemed granted by providence to make Franklin Morris look like what he was, a county court judge.
The chink of a glass reminded her that they were not alone. Kevin sat across from her, his blue eyes huge and round above the chocolate milk that rimmed his mouth. Deidre’s heart clenched. A five-year-old shouldn’t be hearing this conversation.
“Kevin, why don’t you run upstairs and finish the get-well card you’re making for your grandmother. That way Grandfather can take it with him when he goes.” She gave him a reassuring smile, wishing someone would send reassurance her way about now.
“Yes, that’s right.” The judge’s face softened into a smile when he regarded his grandson in a way it seldom seemed to do otherwise. Maybe he felt he had little else to smile about, with his only child dead at thirty-two and his wife constantly medicating herself with alcohol. “She’ll love to have a card from you.”
Kevin nodded, his chair scraping back. Without a word, he scuttled from the kitchen like a mouse escaping the cat.
Her son’s expression reminded Deidre of the most important reason why they’d never be moving into Ferncliff. She wouldn’t allow Kevin to grow up the way his father had, doubting himself at every turn, convinced he could never measure up to what was expected of him. She turned back to the table to be met by a stare that chilled her.
“Deidre, what is this nonsense? I could understand your reluctance to make a move in the immediate aftermath of Frank’s death. But you’ve had nearly a year. It was always understood that you and Kevin would move in with us. We have plenty of room, and it’s the sensible thing to do. With Frank gone, I’m the only father figure the boy will have.”
And that was exactly what Deidre feared most. This was her own fault, she supposed. She should have stood firm when the subject had first come up, but she’d still been dazed at the suddenness of Frank’s death, unable to come to terms with the thought of the screaming, shrieking crash of his treasured sports car against the bridge abutment.
She hadn’t been in any condition then to mount a major battle with the judge, so she’d taken the easy way out, claiming she couldn’t possibly make any more abrupt changes in their lives until they’d become accustomed to the tragedy. When both the family doctor and her minister had chimed in with their support, the judge had graciously backed down.
But now it was the day of reckoning. Taking the easy way out had only postponed the inevitable.
“I realize that you hoped to have us close, especially after Frank’s death.” Deidre chose her words carefully. No matter what damage she considered he’d done to Frank by the way he’d raised him, the judge had lost his only child. “But Frank and I chose to live here, and all of our plans for the future included this house as our home.”
“All that has changed now.” The judge brushed away the years of her marriage with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “Without my son...” He paused, and she feared his iron control was going to snap.
He’d never forgive himself or her if he showed what he’d consider weakness in front of her, and a spasm of pity caught at her throat. His only child gone, his wife an alcoholic... Small wonder he had all his hopes centered on his grandson.
The judge cleared his throat, vanquishing whatever emotion had threatened to erupt. “I’m only thinking of what’s best for Kevin. We can offer him so much more than you can alone. Surely you realize that. An appropriate school, the right background... These things count for something in the world beyond Echo Falls.”
Ambition, in other words. That was what he’d wanted for Frank, and he’d never let Frank forget what he’d supposedly given up by coming back to Echo Falls and marrying her instead of going out into the glittering future his father had wanted for him.
But she could hardly use that as an argument with her father-in-law. “Kevin’s only five. There’s plenty of time to be thinking about the right school for him. At the moment, he needs security, warmth and familiarity in his life, and that’s what he has.” She saw the argument shaping in his eyes and hurried on. “Please don’t think I don’t appreciate all that you and Sylvia do for Kevin. You’re a very important part of his life and nothing can change that.” She managed a smile. “After all, we’re less than a mile away as it is.”
Less than a mile, yes, but to her mind there was a huge difference between the comfortable family house on the edge of town, surrounded by fields, woods and Amish farms, and the cool, elegant mansion on the hill.
Her father-in-law’s chair scraped back as he rose, standing rigid to look down at her for a long moment. “I’m sorry you can’t see the sense of my offer, Deidre. It would be easier all around if you did.”
He turned, stalking without haste from the room, down the hall and toward the front door. Deidre, hurrying after him, reached the door in time to have it close sharply in her face.
Well. Her hands were cold and trembling, and she clasped them together, needing something to hold on to. Surely she must be imagining what seemed to be a threat in the judge’s final words. Hadn’t she?
“Mommy?” Kevin scurried down the stairs, waving a sheet of construction paper. “Grandfather left without the card I made.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess he forgot.”
Deidre put her arm around her son to draw him close, taking comfort from his sturdy little body. She held the picture he was waving so she could see it. Kevin had drawn himself, holding a handful of flowers in all sorts of unlikely shades of crayon. He’d printed his name at the top in uncertain letters.
“But my picture...” He clouded up. “I made it especially for Grandma.”
“We’ll put it in an envelope and mail it to her right now, okay?”
That restored his sunny smile, and Kevin ran to the drop-front desk in the corner of the living room. “I’ll get an envelope.”
“Good job, Kev. I know this will make Grandma feel better.”
She hoped. A report that Sylvia was ill usually meant that she’d gotten hold of something to drink. Once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Much as Deidre grieved for Sylvia, she didn’t mean to expose Kevin to the difficulties inherent in living with her.
That was one more reason why the judge’s plan was impossible. She just wished she could get rid of the sinking feeling that Judge Franklin Morris didn’t give up on anything until he had what he wanted.
* * *
JASON GLASSMAN HAD been in Echo Falls, Pennsylvania, for less than twenty-four hours, and already he was wondering what he was doing here. He’d elected to walk the few blocks from his new apartment to the offices of Morris, Morris and Alter, Attorneys-at-Law, so he could get a close-up look at the town that was supposed to be home from now on.
Small, that was one word. He’d imagined, given that Echo Falls was the county seat, that there’d be a bit more to it. It was attractive enough, he supposed. Tree-shaded streets, buildings that had stood where they were for over a hundred years and would look good for a hundred more, a central square whose fountain was surrounded with red tulips on this May day.
He passed a bookshop and spotted the law practice sign ahead of him. Morris, Morris and Alter would, if all went as planned, be changing its name to Morris, Alter and Glassman before long. He should be grateful. He was grateful, given that the alternative would have been practicing storefront law in a city where everyone knew he’d escaped disbarment by the skin of his teeth and where disgrace dogged him closer than his shadow.
He didn’t often let the memories flood back, keeping them away by sheer force of will. Now he let them come—a reminder of all he had left behind in Philadelphia.
He’d gone to the office unsuspecting that morning, kissing Leslie goodbye in the apartment building lobby as they headed toward their separate jobs—he at the prosecutor’s office, she at a small, struggling law firm.
And he’d walked into a firestorm. The materials that had been so painfully collected as a major part of the prosecution of George W. Whitney for insider trading and racketeering had unaccountably been compromised. Someone had given away their source, who was now swearing himself blue in the face that he’d never been in touch with Jason Glassman, that the records had been altered, presumably by Glassman and that the whole case was a put-up job designed to vilify a valuable and civic-minded citizen.
The case lay in shreds at their feet. All the hours of tedious work, all the manpower that had been poured into it, were wasted. The district attorney had needed to find someone to blame, and he hadn’t gone far. Jason had found himself out of a job and lucky to escape arrest.
Disappear, the district attorney had said. Don’t give statements to the press, don’t try to defend yourself, and we won’t pursue criminal charges or disbarment.
A devil’s agreement, he’d thought it, but he hadn’t had a choice. He’d left the office, driven around in a daze, had a few drinks, which hadn’t helped, and finally headed for home, trying to think of how to explain all this to Leslie.
But Leslie hadn’t been there. All of her belongings had vanished, and she hadn’t bothered leaving a note. Clearly she’d heard and decided it was too dangerous to her career to continue an association with him.
He’d thought that was all it was, and that disappointment had been bad enough. It was three days before he learned that Leslie was now an associate at Bronson and Bronson, the very firm defending George W. Whitney.
So all those nights when he was working at home, when she’d leaned over his shoulder looking at his progress, offering suggestions and support, had just been so much camouflage for an elaborate betrayal.
He’d been incensed. But when his first attempt to confront her had resulted in a protection-from-abuse order being filed against him, he’d had just enough sense left to cut his losses. The last he’d seen of her had been an elegant, expensively dressed back disappearing into the recesses of Bronson and Bronson while he was dragged away by security guards.
And here he was in Echo Falls, Pennsylvania.
Jase paused, hand on the door of the firm’s office. Franklin Morris had made a generous offer to his son’s law school classmate, especially since Jason and Frank had never been close. But Jase knew perfectly well that Judge Morris wanted something in return.
The receptionist seated behind the desk in the spotless, expensively furnished outer office was fiftyish, plumpish and looked as if she’d be more at home baking cookies than juggling the needs of a busy law practice, but the judge had said she knew more about the law than most young law school graduates. She greeted him with a smile and a nod of recognition. Word of his arrival had obviously preceded him.
“Mr. Glassman, of course. I’m Evelyn Lincoln. Welcome to Echo Falls. The judge is waiting for you.” Not pausing for a reply, she led the way to a paneled oak door bearing Franklin Morris’s name in gilt letters, tapped lightly and opened it. “Mr. Glassman is here, Your Honor.”
He followed her in, not sure what welcome to expect.
“Jason, I’m pleased to see you again.” Morris’s smile was polite but restrained, suggesting that it was up to Jase to be sure this was indeed a pleasure. “Come in.” Without rising from behind the massive cherry desk, he nodded to the leather client’s seat.
“Thanks. And thank you, as well, for lining up the apartment for me.”
Judge Morris waved the gratitude away. “Evelyn took care of all that. You’ve met her already. Trey Alter, my associate, is out of the office today, dealing with another matter for one of our clients.”
“I look forward to meeting him.” He’d been wondering how Alter would react to the judge’s hire.
“You’ll want to take some time to move into your office and get up-to-date on the cases we have in hand,” he continued briskly. “Trey will be relieved to have someone to share the load, since my judicial responsibilities keep me from taking a more active role.”
Jase nodded. Judge Morris couldn’t be involved in anything that might conceivably appear before his court, but that still left plenty of work. It had been assumed that the judge’s son would take over, but his death had changed things. There was obviously a need here.
He just wasn’t convinced that he was the right man to deal with it. He suppressed a grimace, thinking that old sayings became clichés because they were true most of the time. Beggars can’t be choosers.
“I’ve gone over the case material Alter sent me, and I’m ready to dive in right away.” He hesitated, but it had to be said. “As for the other matter we discussed, it’s not going to be easy to investigate your daughter-in-law in a town this size, not without making people suspicious.”
Morris’s jaw tightened. “I don’t expect you to mount a stakeout. Something a little subtler is required.”
“I see that, but I’m not sure what you think I can do.” Jason tried to keep his distaste for the strings that had been attached to the job offer from showing in his voice.
Swinging his chair around, the judge reached out to grasp a framed photo from the shelf behind him. He thrust it across the desk so that Jase could see it clearly. “My son. And my grandson.” The boy was hardly more than a toddler in the picture, face still round with babyhood curves. Frank hadn’t changed much from law school, still a good-looking guy, attractive to women, but with an ominous weakness about his mouth and chin.
Judge Morris paused, emotion working behind the facade of his judicial face. “Deidre was never good for Frank, never. He had a brilliant future here, could have become the youngest county court judge we’ve ever had. But she didn’t encourage him. From the day they married, she tried to separate Frank from his family.”
Not that unusual a story, was it? In-law relationships were notoriously dicey. Jase sought for a way to deliver an unpalatable truth. “Even so, I’m afraid that’s not a basis to file for custody of your grandson...”
“I do know something about the law.” Morris’s tone was icy. Maybe he realized it, because he shook his head quickly. “Of course not. My goal isn’t to take Kevin away from Deidre. She is his mother, after all. But she’s always been rather unstable, subject to irrational likes and dislikes, making quick decisions that end up hurting someone. If Frank were alive, he could serve as a balance to that...but he’s not, and I’m determined to do what I can to protect his son.”
This was becoming more unpalatable every minute. But how did he say no to someone who’d just given him his future back? “If you don’t intend to sue for custody, then what?”
“Leverage.” Judge Morris pronounced the word heavily. “I need leverage to convince Deidre that she and Kevin should move in with us. Once that happens, we’ll be able to provide the stability and the good life the boy needs. Without a father, subject to his mother’s whims... Well, I’m concerned about what will become of him.”
It sounded like the kind of messy, emotional case that had sent him into specializing in financial fraud, where the only emotion involved was greed. “Naturally you’re worried about your grandson. But I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Deidre is having an affair with a married man.” His expression was harsh with condemnation. “At least, that’s what my son thought. For all I know, that might have been what sent him speeding into a concrete wall. Find me proof, and I’ll know what to do with it.”
“If you’re sure of your facts...” he began.
Judge Morris stood abruptly, the framed photo in his hands. He stood at the window, staring down at the photo and then setting it back on its shelf, centering it carefully.
“In my position, I have to be careful. It wouldn’t do for a county court judge to be seen as collecting evidence against his own daughter-in-law. I don’t expect you to shadow her or sneak around taking photographs. You’re close to Deidre in age, living right next door. It shouldn’t be hard to gain her confidence and keep an eye on the situation.”
He caught Jase’s expression and gave a thin smile. “It wasn’t a coincidence that Evelyn rented the apartment in the old Moyer house for you. Deidre’s family home is the white colonial to the left as you face the house.”
“The place with the swing set in the backyard.” He could hardly help noticing it. His bedroom windows overlooked the property. Obviously the judge’s staff work was excellent. “There’s no guarantee that I can find anything to help you,” he warned.
Judge Morris gave a curt nod. “I accept that. Don’t imagine that your position here is conditional on success.” A muscle in his jaw worked. “Deidre is a manipulative woman who betrayed my son. I have to keep her from damaging my grandson.”
Manipulative. Betrayed. Did Judge Morris know that those words would strike fire in him? Maybe, maybe not, but it didn’t really matter. He already knew what his answer had to be.
“All right. I’ll do my best.” Now his jaw clenched. He didn’t have a very good track record when it came to outwitting a manipulative woman. But this time, at least, he was forewarned.
* * *
DRESSED FOR HER evening meeting, Deidre peeked into Kevin’s room. He’d been determined to stay awake until the arrival of Dixie, her neighbor, who’d offered to babysit tonight. But he was already sound asleep. She tiptoed to the sleigh bed that had been hers as a little girl and bent to kiss his smooth, rounded forehead. Kev slept with abandon, as always, one arm thrown over his head and his expression concentrated.
“Sweet dreams,” she whispered.
She’d told him that the bed, with its curved headboard and footboard like an old-fashioned sleigh, had always brought her good dreams. Maybe it worked for Kevin, too. Although he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, he never seemed frightened, going back to sleep as quickly as he’d wakened.
Leaving the door ajar so Dixie would hear him if he called out, Deidre hurried downstairs, glancing at her watch. This first meeting of the Echo Falls Bicentennial Committee would probably be a fractious one, with representatives of every segment of town life in attendance. She’d promised to arrive early at the library and start the coffee—one of the inevitable chores falling to the only person on the library board who was under seventy.
A tap on the front door heralded Dixie’s arrival, and she came in without waiting for Deidre to answer. “Am I late?”
She slung her jean jacket over the nearest chair and pushed her black hair over her shoulders with a characteristic gesture. She eyed Deidre’s tan slacks, blue shirt and camel sweater with disappointment. “You look as if you expect this meeting to be boring. Why don’t you spice things up a little?”
Dixie herself wore a scarlet tank top that clung to every curve of her body. Her voluptuous body, Deidre amended. When they’d been kids together, and every other twelve-year-old girl had been straight as a board, Dixie had seemed to mature overnight into someone who’d befuddled the boys in their class and even drawn covert looks from a few male teachers.
Even though Dixie had returned after years away, divorced and apparently ready to start over, some things hadn’t changed. She still attracted males like a magnet. After all, single women their age were a rarity in Echo Falls.
“I’m representing the library board, remember? Besides, I don’t have the figure to wear something like that outfit.” She nodded to Dixie’s bright top and formfitting jeans.
Dixie tossed her hair back, laughing. “Sure you do. And I’d like to see the expressions on the old girls’ faces if you turned up in this.”
One thing about Dixie...she never apologized for anything she wore, said or did. It must be nice to feel that confident. Deidre never had, and she’d settled for an updated version of her mother’s style, typically small town, middle-class and designed not to raise a single eyebrow.
“I’m almost ready, and Kev is sleeping. I promised him you’d come in and kiss him good-night, but I didn’t promise you’d wake him up.” She retrieved her cell phone and tucked it into her bag.
“Okay, will do.” Dixie picked up the television remote but didn’t switch the set on, a sign she had something to say. “Did you see the new tenant next door yet?”
“Someone moved into the second-floor flat at last?” The old Moyer place had been converted into three apartments, with Dixie renting the top floor. “I hope they’re not going to be noisy.”
“Not they, he. Thirtyish, single and sexy. Just what we need in the neighborhood.”
Deidre gave her a look. “Had a long chat with him, did you?”
Dixie grinned. “We barely exchanged two words. But believe me, I didn’t need conversation to make up my mind about him. Lean, dark and tough-looking. He’s the brooding, dangerous type, and that suits me fine.”
She could only hope Dixie didn’t intend to launch herself headlong into a new romance. Her past was strewn with the guys she’d been convinced were the real thing. Needless to say, they hadn’t been.
“Who is this paragon? And what brings him to Echo Falls? Maybe you’d better be sure he’s going to hang around before you make a dead set at him.”
“That’s the thing.” For a moment Dixie looked uncertain, an unusual expression for her. “I hear he’s actually the new lawyer in your sainted father-in-law’s firm.” Dixie gave her a sidelong look. “You hadn’t heard?”
No, she hadn’t heard. Silly, to be bothered by the news that someone was taking Frank’s place. After all, it had been almost a year, and the firm was constantly busy.
“I knew they needed someone, but didn’t know they’d made a decision. Funny that the judge didn’t mention it when he was here today.”
She didn’t think her expression had changed at the mention of that visit, but Dixie knew her well.
“What’s he up to now?” She held up a hand to stop Deidre’s protest. “Don’t bother denying it. The judge is always up to something, isn’t he?”
Deidre shrugged. It would be a relief to vent to someone, and she and Dixie had been friends long enough for her to know Dixie was safe. “The same conversation we had before. I thought it was settled, but apparently not. He wants us to move in with him and Sylvia.” A chill slid down her spine at the thought.
Dixie abandoned her lounging posture on the sofa to sit bolt upright, anger flashing in her dark eyes. “You can’t be considering it. Move into that mausoleum? I’d rather be dead.”
“No, of course I’m not considering it. If I wouldn’t move in there when Frank was alive, I’m certainly not going to do it now. I couldn’t raise Kevin in that...” She couldn’t find a suitable word that was compatible with her sense of politeness.
“Mausoleum,” Dixie repeated. “Good. Don’t you even think of giving in to him.”
“I’m not,” she protested. “But you know what the judge is like.”
“He’s a boa constrictor.” Dixie spat out the words with more than her usual emphasis. “Get caught in his coils, and the next thing you know you’ll be digested, just like that poor wife of his.”
“Sylvia has other problems. I’m not sure her husband can do much for her.”
“He’s probably the one who drove her to alcohol to begin with,” Dixie muttered. “And you know how he treated Frank when he was growing up. You can’t let him get his hands on Kev.”
“I’m not going to.” She didn’t know when she’d seen Dixie so passionate. “All I have to do is keep saying no. He can’t force me. Honestly, Dixie, there’s no need to get so upset about it.”
“You’re too trusting, you know that? You think everyone’s as nice as you are. They’re not.”
Dixie’s reaction was fueling her own, and she had to look at this sensibly. “I’ve got to get going. Again, thanks so much for staying with Kev. And don’t worry about the judge. I’m not. Really.”
Deidre reminded herself of those brave words as she drove to the public library, just off the square in Echo Falls, and pulled into the parking lot behind the building. No worrying. Obsessing about Judge Morris’s plans wouldn’t do any good.
She shifted her focus firmly to the upcoming meeting. At least she wasn’t the first arrival. The lights were already on, a welcome given the fine mist that was forming.
She picked up the tote bag with the coffee and doughnuts and ducked through the mist to the back door, hurrying inside. In the flurry of greeting people and getting the refreshments ready, she managed to shove Judge Morris firmly to the back of her mind. Like Scarlett, she’d worry about that tomorrow.
The meeting was being held in what was normally a quiet reading area in front of the fireplace. Folding chairs had appeared to supplement the sofa and love seat donated by some library patron who’d probably been redecorating. Concentrating on refilling the doughnut tray, Deidre didn’t notice that someone was coming toward her until he spoke.
“Hard at work as always, I see.” Adam Bennett, the pastor of Grace Church, was mature enough to be aware of the status his collar gave him and young enough to be made a bit uncomfortable by it. He flushed now, as he often seemed to when he spoke to her.
“Not very,” she said, smiling. “Will you have a doughnut?”
“No, no, thank you.” He shied away as if his wife had lectured him about the dangers of fatty foods. “I wanted to introduce someone to you. Deidre, this is Jason Glassman, the new associate in Judge Morris’s office.”
For an instant Deidre could only stare at the man who’d come up behind Adam. Brooding and dangerous-looking indeed, as Dixie had said. His tailored suit and tie would be more at home in a big-city office, and his lean face gave one the impression of a man stripped down to the essentials and ready for action. There was nothing casual about the assessing look he turned on her, and she was suddenly aware of the sticky icing on her fingers.
When in doubt, take refuge in good manners, her mother always advised. Deidre wiped her hand on a napkin before extending it.
“Mr. Glassman, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure my father-in-law is relieved to have someone to...” She’d started to say assist, but this man didn’t look as if he’d ever been an assistant to anyone. “To take over the extra caseload. I know the office has been very busy.”
“Please, call me Jason.” His deep voice held nothing more than conventional courtesy, but the clasp of his hand lingered a bit too long, and his dark eyes studied and probed, as if to warn he’d know everything about her before he was finished. “I’m just getting settled in. I understand we’re neighbors, as well.”
“We’re all neighbors here in Echo Falls.” Adam glanced from one to the other as Deidre pulled her hand away, his voice uncertain. “I was just telling Jason how happy we’ll be to have his help with planning the celebration.”
“Not planning, just listening. I understand no one else was available tonight, and the judge thought the office should be represented. I’m just holding a watching brief.” The way his eyes held hers made it sound as if she were the one he was watching.
Deidre gave herself a mental shake and took a step back behind the protection of the coffee urn. Jason Glassman would have better luck turning his measuring look on Dixie. She’d know just how to respond.
“I see the chairwoman is ready to begin.” She nodded toward the fireplace, where Enid Longenberger was shuffling through her notes. “Maybe we’d better take our seats.” Busying herself with the arrangement of trays, Deidre gave the two men plenty of time to find chairs before she slipped into one as far away from Glassman’s disturbing presence as possible.
What had the judge been thinking? Surely he couldn’t picture this man settling into a quiet career in Echo Falls. He looked as if he’d be bored to death in a week. Certainly he did nothing to dismiss that opinion as he sat, eyes half-closed, through the inevitable suggestions, ranging from the mundane to pie-in-the-sky ideas that would only happen if a benevolent billionaire decided to lend a hand.
The meeting dragged on even longer than she’d expected, with Enid obviously determined to give everyone a chance to offer an opinion. Deidre found herself taking surreptitious glances at her watch. Dixie claimed to enjoy staying with Kevin, and she’d never let Deidre pay her, so she made a special effort not to keep Dixie out too late.
Finally, the subcommittees had been assigned, a general outline of ideas approved and the last grumbler had been satisfied. Enid banged down her gavel with an air of decision, and people started filing out the doors, some lingering to rehash the meeting with their friends, as they often did. Deidre kept herself busy clearing up the coffee service as the room slowly emptied. She didn’t think Jason Glassman would approach her again, and she didn’t want to give him any excuse to do so. Something about the man set her nerves on edge, and she didn’t think it was the attractiveness and underlying masculine sexuality that Dixie had obviously noted.
When she went outside, locking the back door behind her, Deidre realized she had dallied almost too long. The lot behind the library was empty except for her sedan, and darker than it usually seemed—or maybe that was just her mood.
The streetlamp in front of the building was blocked by the roof of the library, and the closest one in the other direction didn’t extend its light this far. The massive brick block of the bank building on the other side of the lot effectively hid it from view of anyone passing on Main Street, giving it an isolated feeling.
Deidre walked quickly to the car, heels echoing on the concrete, fingers clasped around her keys. She’d never felt unsafe in Echo Falls after dark, and she wasn’t going to let an odd case of nerves make her start now. Unlocking the car, she slid in and slammed the door, feeling like a rabbit darting into its hole.
She turned the key in the ignition, listening for the comforting purr of the motor. The engine gave a sputter, a grinding sound and then stopped. Nothing. She tried again. She couldn’t have stalled it. But there was still nothing. The engine was dead.
It was pointless to keep turning the key. Fumbling for her cell phone, she tried to come up with the most sensible course of action. If she called the auto club, they’d undoubtedly send someone out from Williamsport, a good thirty miles away, and she’d be stuck here for an hour. She could try one of the people who’d been at the meeting, but they wouldn’t be home yet, and she suspected none of them were entered on her cell phone. If Dixie weren’t babysitting—
A sharp rap on the window next to her sent her heart jolting into overdrive. She turned to see Jason Glassman peering in at her, his strong-featured face an ominous mask in the dim light.
“Trouble?” He raised an eyebrow, giving his face a hint of caricature, and she was swept with a feeling that trouble was exactly what the man represented.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416)
JASON TILTED HIS face to the available light, making sure the Morris woman recognized him. With a slight nod, Deidre lowered the window manually, apparently deciding he was trustworthy.
She was wrong. Her car wasn’t starting because he’d made sure it wouldn’t. Nothing serious. A mechanic would spot the loose connection in thirty seconds, but he was banking on Deidre not even looking under the hood.
“My car is dead.” She glanced at her watch. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong.”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a mechanic, but I’ll be glad to wait with you while you call your garage. Or my car is here, and I can easily take you home.”
Now she managed a smile. “The garage will have closed at five, and nothing short of a three-car pileup would get George Frazer away from his television at this hour. If you’re sure you don’t mind...” Deidre was already opening the door.
“Not at all. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?” So easy. She didn’t suspect a thing. Too bad the drive was so short, but at least he’d have some chance of talking with her. “I’m parked out front.”
They walked together along the alley toward the street, their footsteps echoing on the concrete. Shadows lay around the building, and it surprised him that Deidre didn’t seem warier. Maybe small-town living deadened the instincts.
“I appreciate the offer. It’s certainly time I relieved my babysitter.”
“Teenagers always have the meter ticking, I suppose,” he said lightly, wondering who watched the judge’s grandson when she wasn’t there.
“It’s not that. A friend of mine is staying with my son. I hate to call a teenage sitter on a school night, especially when I think a meeting might be lengthy.”
They’d reached his car, and he opened the passenger-side door so she could slide in, then went around quickly to get in and start the car. “It wasn’t my imagination then. It did go on and on.”
“And on,” she said, amusement in her voice. “I’m afraid it wasn’t a very good introduction for you. But typical. Everyone has to have their say.”
“Even if someone else has already said it.” He slanted a smile at her.
“Especially if someone has already said it. No one wants somebody else claiming credit for his or her good idea. I have a theory that the amount of work that gets done is in inverse proportion to the number of people on the committee.”
He had to laugh at Deidre’s dry tone.
“I shouldn’t laugh at them,” she said, shaking her head. “They all mean well. I just hate keeping Dixie out late, even though she insists she doesn’t mind.”
“Dixie?” The name rang a bell. “I think there’s a Dixie in my building.”
“The same one. Dixie James. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, although she just moved back to Echo Falls a couple of years ago. Speaking of which, I hope you’re settling in all right.” She sounded like a good hostess, checking on a guest’s comfort.
All in all, he was beginning to wonder if Deidre Morris, with her honey-colored hair and candid blue eyes, wasn’t just a little too good to be true.
He suspected a show of candor on his part would win her sympathy. “I don’t know if I should bring it up, but I hope...well, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I seem to be taking your late husband’s position in the firm.”
Jase didn’t think he imagined a hesitation before she spoke.
“Not at all. I know the firm needed another person. Trey Alter’s been overworked, especially during the times when court is in session and the judge is unavailable.”
That last bit sounded a tad formal. He should have asked the judge what his current relationship was with his daughter-in-law. If they were in a state of open warfare, he’d have to step cautiously.
He’d been wondering if he should mention her husband or play dumb. But anyone might let it slip that they’d been in law school together. Better play it safe.
“I was sorry to hear about Frank’s death. I noticed it in the alumni newsletter. Guess I should have sent a card, but...well, you wouldn’t have known who I was.”
She turned in the seat to look at him. “Were you a friend of Frank’s?” So that had caught her attention.
“A classmate. I was working too hard to have much time to socialize. But he was a nice guy.”
“Yes, he was.” She didn’t sound overtly mournful, but it had been about a year, and she was probably used to dealing with condolences by now. “When you see our son, Kevin, I think you’ll notice the resemblance.” She was smiling now, maybe at the thought of the kid. “At least, I always thought he looked like Frank, although Frank didn’t agree.”
“Frank thought he looked like you, did he?”
“He claimed Kev was Pennsylvania Dutch through and through. That’s my side of the family, the Wagners. You’ll have to get used to all the German-sounding names in an area like this, especially with the number of Amish we have.”
She was talking more easily now. He’d made some progress, despite the fact that they were pulling up to the house already. She’d feel as if she owed him a favor, and that would make it easier to pursue an acquaintanceship that the judge seemed to feel would pay off.
Jase drove past his own driveway and turned into hers. “I’ll drop you right at the house. No point in walking across the lawn in the dark.”
“You don’t need...” Deidre stopped, staring.
He followed the direction of her gaze, and his nerves went on alert. The front door of her house stood open. That couldn’t be normal.
Deidre grabbed for the door handle, and his hand shot across to arrest the movement.
“Stay here. Call the police. I’ll check it out.” He slid out of the car, not looking back to see if she’d obeyed him. Something was wrong, and there was a defenseless child in that house.
It took him seconds to reach the porch. Deidre was right behind him, and he didn’t waste his breath telling her to stay back. They hit the doorway at the same time, and he grabbed her arm, stopping her from plunging inside.
His gut clenched. A woman lay on the area rug in front of a sofa, blood from a head wound soaking into the fibers. Dixie, he supposed. The child—
Deidre gave an anguished cry that sounded barely human. She yanked free of his restraining hand, running toward the stairway at the back of the room. Then he saw what she had. That small bundle on the bottom step, tangled in a blanket, had to be her son.
* * *
DEIDRE STUMBLED TO her knees next to Kevin, reaching for him. Some rational part of her mind shouted for her to be careful, not to move him suddenly.
She had to hold him—had to know he was breathing. Sliding her arms around him, she managed to cradle him against her. His lips were slightly parted, and a gentle breath moved against her cheek. Relief flooded through her.
Please, God. Please, God, let him be all right...
Deidre’s fingers found a fluttering pulse. But he was pale...so pale that the faint blue shadows under his eyes looked like bruises.
“Kevin, baby, can you hear me?”
Nothing, but she could see the vein pulsing at his temple.
Someone knelt beside her, and she realized it was Jason. “Careful. Don’t move him.”
“No. His head...”
Jason bent over her son, seeming to trace the swelling behind Kevin’s ear with his gaze. “EMTs are on the way. They’ll be here soon. Two ambulances, I told them.”
“Dixie...” She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Kevin long enough to look. And now, when she tried, Jason’s solid body blocked her view.
“Head injury,” he said briefly. “It looks...bad.”
Deidre’s sluggish wits started to move again at that moment. Kevin must have fallen, but Dixie... How could she have gotten a head injury sitting on the sofa?
“What...what happened to her?” Ridiculous to think that he would know any more than she did.
“Someone hit her. She couldn’t have done that much damage falling.”
Amazing that he could sound so calm. Dixie had been attacked. How could that be true? That meant that someone had come into her house and done this.
Jason had turned, surveying the room. Looking for evidence? Deidre cradled Kevin closer, trying to control the trembling that had seized her. She had to be strong. She had to be there for Kevin. She couldn’t fall apart now. Frank was gone, and she was all Kevin had.
Jason’s hand came down on her shoulder, his firm grip steadying her. “It’ll be all right.”
He didn’t sound as if he believed the words. She didn’t. How could anything be all right again when the unthinkable had happened?
Sirens wailed. Jason stood up. “I’ll go signal them. Hold on.”
Deidre managed to nod. She’d hold on because she had to. She couldn’t lose Kevin.
In what seemed a moment, her small living room was filled with people. They’d obviously called out both of Echo Falls’s paramedic teams. One surrounded Dixie while the other moved swiftly into place around Kevin.
“You’ll need to move back just a little.” It was a female voice. “I’m just going to slide your arms out from under him, okay? You don’t need to worry. Joe has him.”
She must have made some sound as hands pulled her away, because the woman patted her. “Just ease back a bit. You can put your hand on his foot, okay? That way he’ll know you’re still here.”
Her throat was too tight to allow for speech. All she could do was close her fingers around Kev’s bare foot, sticking out of the blanket. The superhero pajamas he’d insisted on wearing were getting too small for him. She should get him a new pair. Clinging to the thought was holding her to normalcy for a moment. She held on to a world in which the biggest threat to a small boy was outgrowing his favorite pj’s.
The paramedics talked to each other in low tones, and then the woman put her arm around Deidre. “We’re going to transport Kevin to the hospital in the ambulance. You can ride with him, okay?”
Deidre nodded, unable to think beyond the moment and the clasp of her hand around Kevin’s foot. Voices murmured in the background, people giving orders, asking questions, making arrangements. All she could do was move when they told her to, watch Kevin being lifted onto a stretcher and maintain a tenuous hold on the feeling that assured her he was still alive.
As they made their way toward the door, someone moved in front of her. A police officer, saying something she couldn’t take in, focused as she was on Kevin. Then Jason was deflecting him, drawing him away.
“I was with Mrs. Morris. I’ll answer your questions.”
Good, because she wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t going to let anything or anyone separate her from her son.
Lights flashed in the dark outside, turning the trees odd colors. Someone helped her into the back of the ambulance. She slid to a position as close to Kevin as she could get, all her attention focused on him, shutting out everything else. The paramedics murmured to each other, but her mind couldn’t seem to sort out the words.
They slid out of the driveway, making the turn toward town and the hospital. The siren wailed, and they sped along. People would be looking out windows, wondering who and what.
Kneeling in the ambulance next to Kevin, Deidre was barely aware of the journey until they came to a smooth stop. She glanced up to see the lights of the emergency room, and then they blurred in a flow of smooth, controlled activity as the doors opened and the ER staff moved to join the paramedics. Kevin was so small—there hardly seemed to be enough space for everyone to work on him.
In seconds they were out on the pavement. As Deidre followed the gurney carrying Kevin inside, another ambulance wailed into the drive behind her. Dixie. She breathed a silent prayer. But Dixie of all people would understand that she had to stay with Kevin.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR LATER, she stood alone in the small room set aside for families waiting for news of their loved ones. With its neutral-toned upholstered furniture and muted landscape prints, it had been designed to convey a balance between hope and comfort. She should know—she’d been on the hospital auxiliary committee that decorated it. A discreet plaque on the wall informed anyone who noticed that the lounge had been given through the generosity of Franklin and Sylvia Morris.
She clenched her hands, trying not to give way to fear, to panic. The door opened, and her breath caught. But it wasn’t one of the doctors. It was Judith Yoder, her neighbor, her friend. Deidre’s control broke, and she stumbled into Judith’s outstretched arms.
“Hush, hush.” Judith patted her as if Deidre were one of her children. “Don’t cry. You must be strong for Kevin. You can be, I know. Let the gut Lord help you.”
Judith’s Amish faith might seem simple to an outsider, but it was bedrock strong and would carry her through anything. It seemed to bolster Deidre’s own faltering strength.
Deidre choked back a sob and straightened. She managed to nod. “How did you know?”
“Eli saw the flashing lights from the bedroom window. He could tell it was at your house.”
She knew it hadn’t been as simple as that. Eli, being a volunteer firefighter, had probably run to the phone shanty to call dispatch and find out what had happened. Then he’d have called an Englisch neighbor to drive Judith to the hospital. But nothing would be too much trouble for either of them when a friend needed help.
Judith sat beside her on the sofa, clasping her hands as Deidre spilled out everything that had happened in a probably incoherent stream.
“They took Kevin for tests. I heard someone say to have an operating room ready. I haven’t heard anything about Dixie. I don’t know what’s happening.” That was the worst thing—not knowing.
“When someone said a woman had been seriously hurt, I thought it was you.” Judith’s previously calm voice trembled.
Deidre closed her eyes for an instant, seeing Dixie lying on the rug in her living room. “If I’d been home...” She struggled for breath. “Dixie was only there because she was doing something kind for me.”
Judith’s grasp of her hands tightened. “Ach, Deidre, you must not start blaming yourself. This is the fault of the person who did it, no one else.”
She tried to accept the words, but guilt dug claws into her heart. She hadn’t been there. Kevin had been in danger, and she hadn’t been there.
Judith seemed to understand all the things she didn’t say—the fear, the panic just barely under control. She talked, a soft murmur of words that flowed around Deidre in a comforting stream even when she didn’t fully listen.
The door opened and closed as others began to arrive—the judge, gray-faced and controlled, demanding answers no one had; the minister, looking young and uncertain; even Jason, who surely realized he didn’t need to be here at all but seemed unwilling to leave.
Deidre roused herself to speak to Jason. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure you’d prefer to go home.”
It was her father-in-law who answered. “I’ve asked Jason to stay, for a time, at least. He can deal with the police and any reporters who show up.” His tone implied that any reporter unwise enough to attempt to speak to them wouldn’t have a job for long.
One of the aides carried in a tray with coffee and tea. Deidre shook her head, but Judith insisted on fixing her a mug of hot tea with plenty of sugar.
“It will make you feel better. Drink it up, now.”
It was easier to obey than to argue. And Judith was right. The hot liquid eased the tight muscles in her throat and warmed her cold hands.
The judge paced. Jason leaned against the wall, solid and apparently immovable. After what seemed an eternity, Kevin’s pediatrician, Elizabeth Donnelly, came in, accompanied by a tired-looking older man.
“Deidre.” Liz came quickly to clasp her hands. “Kevin’s in good hands, and it looks hopeful. This is Dr. Jamison, who worked on Kevin from the moment he came in, and he can explain what’s happening...”
“Is the boy going to recover? Is he awake? Does he know what happened?” Judge Franklin rushed into speech, demanding the attention of everyone in the room.
“As Dr. Donnelly said, it looks hopeful.” The older doctor seemed unfazed by the rapid-fire questions. “Kevin has what I would consider a fairly severe head injury, but nothing that we feel requires surgery at the moment. We’re monitoring him closely, and we plan to keep him in a medically induced coma for a day or two to help minimize any damage. If the brain should swell, we might need to go in to alleviate the pressure, but if not, we could see a fairly rapid recovery.”
Deidre’s thoughts had hung up on one word. Damage. “Do you mean—Will Kevin have brain damage?”
Liz squeezed her hand. “We just don’t know yet. The next twenty-four hours will tell us a lot. Hang in there.”
“Thank you.” The words were automatic. “Can I see him?”
The two doctors exchanged looks. “For a few minutes, at least,” Liz said.
“I’m coming, as well.” The judge grasped Deidre’s arm, and she thought it was the first time in a year that he’d voluntarily touched her.
She glanced at him, and then looked away. The pain in his face made it indecent to stare.
They followed the doctors down the hallway, and it seemed to Deidre that she was moving as awkwardly as a robot. She had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, and she longed for Frank’s presence beside her. But Frank was gone, and he had never seemed so far away.
Then a door opened, and she saw her son. Despite the machines and wires that formed a mechanical cocoon around his bed, Kevin looked as if he were sleeping, his head turned slightly to one side as it always was in slumber. She slipped forward, able to move now that she could see him.
She folded her fingers over his hand. He was alive. Whatever happened, she would deal with it, but Kevin was alive.
Liz moved a chair up to the bed and nudged her into it. “Just sit here with him for a few minutes. Don’t attempt to wake him. The nurse may have to ask you to leave at some point. I know I can count on you to cooperate.”
Don’t make a fuss, in other words. But she wasn’t the type to fuss, was she?
Liz turned away, and Deidre reached out to catch her hand. “My friend, the one who was with Kevin, do you know how she’s doing?”
Liz’s eyes clouded. “I’m sorry. I’ve been told that Dixie James died without regaining consciousness.”
* * *
JASE SLIPPED OUT of the waiting room and watched as Deidre and her father-in-law trailed the doctors down the hall. They disappeared from sight into the boy’s room. An unaccustomed emotion wrenched at his heart. Poor little guy. Still, things did sound hopeful regarding his recovery.
He’d really been pitchforked into trouble when he’d set out to meet Deidre Morris tonight. There was a bright side to his actions in sabotaging her car—at least she hadn’t been alone when she’d made that grisly discovery.
So why did the memory of his actions bring with it a wave of guilt?
Jase glanced back at the waiting room, but he was too restless to sit in there. He had to talk to the judge as soon as possible. Given what had happened, he’d surely want to delay any action against his daughter-in-law, and Jase would be relieved to be out from under the burden of that task. Whatever Deidre’s other failings, there’d been no mistaking her anguish over her son. He didn’t doubt that she’d have changed places with the boy in an instant.
Kevin’s injury had been bad enough, but at least it had looked like an accident. But the woman—that had been deliberate. He was no expert, but he’d be surprised if anyone could have survived that blow to the head. What on earth was going on in this supposedly peaceful small town?
The hall was as quiet as a hospital ever was, the lights slightly dimmed and most of the patient room doors closed. Two nurses were having a conversation about their weekend plans at the nurses’ station, their voices as cheerful as if it was the middle of the afternoon.
He moved toward Kevin’s room, making little sound on the tile floor. A talk with the judge was definitely in order. He’d done his best to answer the cop’s questions, automatically not volunteering anything extra. But the police would have to question Deidre sooner or later, and if he was meant to represent her, that had to be clarified.
Pausing, he watched the door, reluctant to make a move. It swung open, and he had a brief glimpse of the child on the high, narrow bed, with Deidre sitting next to him, her eyes intent on his face. Then the door closed as the judge, still gray-faced, approached him.
“Can we have a word?” Jase kept his voice low.
Judge Morris glanced around, nodded and led the way to the window at the end of the corridor, safely out of earshot of the nurses’ station.
“How is the boy?” He sounded awkward. Not surprising, since he felt awkward. Dealing with emotion had never come easy to him.
“You heard what the doctor said, so you know as much as I do. It’s a matter of waiting.” Judge Morris looked as if the concept was completely unfamiliar to him.
“I’m sorry.” Jase hesitated. “Under the circumstances, I take it you won’t want me to proceed with any further investigation.”
Morris’s face froze. “Then you take it wrong. It’s more important than ever now.”
“But with your grandson in the hospital...”
“That’s the point,” Morris snapped. “Why is he here? Was he injured because something Deidre did put him in danger? I have to know, or how can I protect him?”
Jase got where he was coming from, but at the moment there seemed nothing to tie Deidre to the attack on the woman. “It’s possible it was an attempted burglary that turned violent. Nothing to do with either Mrs. Morris or Ms. James.”
The judge shook his head impatiently. “A burglar would have seen the lights and known someone was home.”
“True, but even so, the violence was directed at Dixie James.” It seemed to him more likely that, if it wasn’t a burglary or a random attack, someone had either followed Dixie or had known she was babysitting that night.
“We have too little information to speculate, I suppose.” The judge glanced around, as if expecting that information to materialize because he wanted it.
“Deidre is unlikely to do anything to raise questions about her behavior while her son is in the hospital,” Jase pointed out, trying to be the voice of common sense.
“I suppose not, but I still want you to represent her with the police. And help her deal with any reporters.” The judge turned away, and then turned back as if struck by a second thought. “I’ll have a word with the chief of police to make sure he keeps you abreast of what’s happening in the investigation. It’s best to be prepared.”
Being prepared to the judge obviously meant pulling as many strings as necessary to ensure that he took care of his grandchild. Jason couldn’t fault his goal, whatever he thought of his methods. In any event, he didn’t have much choice.
“All right.” Movement down the hall caught his eye. “Looks as if the cops are here.” Two officers, one young enough to look as if he were growing into his uniform and the other a silver-haired older man, had just emerged from the elevator.
The judge looked at them and stiffened still more. “Under no circumstances are they to attempt to question my grandson. I won’t have his recovery jeopardized by an overeager policeman. See to it.”
Jason nodded, privately thinking that not much effort would be necessary. The doctors would no doubt do that job for him. “They’ll be wanting to speak to your daughter-in-law tonight. They do have an assault to solve.”
“Murder,” Morris corrected. “The doctor told us the woman didn’t survive. I’ll have a word with them on my way out, and I’m relying on you to make sure their questioning is as brief as possible.”
Jase nodded. He suspected that would be an easy matter after the judge spoke to them. Judge Morris clearly carried a lot of clout in this town, and the police would be more aware of that than anyone.
He watched as the judge approached the two, spoke for a moment and then gestured to Jase. Obeying the summons, he approached to find himself being surveyed coolly by the older man.
“Chief Carmichaels, Jason Glassman. Glassman is the new associate at the firm. He’ll be handling anything necessary for my daughter-in-law.”
With a curt nod, the judge stalked to the elevator and pushed the button. Even the elevator obeyed him, opening promptly.
By what seemed to be common consent, the three of them waited until the doors had closed before turning to business. “I hear the boy’s in a bad way.” Chief Carmichaels’s expression softened. “Poor little guy.”
“I understand the doctors are hopeful that he’ll recover. But they’re keeping him in a medically induced coma for the next few days.” He trusted he didn’t have to spell it out for the man.
Carmichaels nodded. “Meaning we won’t know what, if anything, he saw until he comes out of it.”
“Maybe not even then,” Jase pointed out. “People sometimes have no memory of the events leading up to a head injury. And I doubt you can expect much from a five-year-old, anyway.”
“We have to try.” Carmichaels’s tone was mild, but Jase didn’t miss the steel in his eyes. This was a man who would do his job, no matter what anyone said. Still, he’d probably try to do it without antagonizing anyone, which would help.
“As for Mrs. Morris...” Jase began.
“Now, Mr. Glassman, I’m sure a big-city prosecutor like yourself knows we have to talk to her, no matter how inconvenient it might be. This is now a murder case.”
In other words, his reputation had preceded him. It would have been foolish to think otherwise.
“She’s sitting with her son at the moment.” If the chief’s words had been a challenge, he wouldn’t take it up. “I’m willing to ask her to come out for a few minutes, providing you keep it brief. I was with Mrs. Morris the entire time and probably better able to observe the situation, since I wasn’t personally involved.”
“I understand you drove her home from a meeting at the library. You went together, did you?” The chief’s silver eyebrows lifted slightly, as if it seemed unlikely to him.
“No, I just met Mrs. Morris for the first time at the meeting. Afterward, I noticed she was having trouble getting her car started, so I offered her a lift home.”
“And you went into the house with her,” Carmichaels added.
“Only because I noticed the door standing open. We city-dwellers are always on alert for signs of a break-in, as you can imagine.”
The chief nodded, as if satisfied with that explanation. “If you’ll ask Mrs. Morris to give us a few minutes, then we’ll get out of the way.”
Jason frowned as a thought occurred. “Are you leaving someone on duty here?”
“I don’t have a big enough force to spare a man, but I can ask the security guard to check in often. You have a reason to think the child is in danger?” There was an edge to the cop’s voice.
“I’ve only been in town two days. I know next to nothing about the situation, but if the child might be a witness to murder...” He let that trail off, satisfied that he’d made his point.
“We’ll make sure he’s never left alone.” He glanced toward the door meaningfully, and Jase took the hint. He wanted to see Deidre, and he didn’t appreciate being told his business by an outsider. Nobody did, but maybe an outsider saw more by virtue of the fact that everything was unfamiliar.
He slipped into the room, pausing for a moment to be sure he wasn’t startling Deidre or the boy. But Kevin was deeply asleep, his chest barely rising and falling as he slept, and Deidre looked up immediately at the change in light when the door opened.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he murmured. “Chief Carmichaels needs to ask you a few questions. If you’ll just come out for a minute or two...” He could see her instinctive response.
“I can’t leave Kevin. What if something happens?”
“I’ll get someone to stay with him.” But even as he spoke, a male nurse, identification plainly displayed, entered the room.
“I’ll be here with Kevin for a few minutes.” He gave Deidre a reassuring smile. “I’d have to ask you to step out, anyway. And I won’t leave until you come back, okay?”
Seeing she had no choice, Deidre removed her hand slowly from her son. She bent over and whispered something to him before coming to Jase.
“It’s all right,” he said quickly, putting a hand on her elbow. If she got any paler, she’d be whiter than the sheets. “I’ll make sure the cops don’t overstay their welcome.”
She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze with a look of surprise and gratitude that startled him. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in this at all. If you hadn’t been so kind as to give me a lift, you could have been safely home by now.”
Kind. There was her child lying in a coma, and she thanked him for being kind when he was the one who’d sabotaged her car. He couldn’t feel any lower if he tried.
CHAPTER THREE (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416)
“KOMM, NOW, YOU must eat.” Deidre’s cousin, Anna Wagner, pressed a container of hot chicken soup into her hands. “Mamm made it this morning just for you. She didn’t want you eating hospital food.”
Deidre could imagine the disdain with which her aunt had said those words. Amish mothers had a profound distrust of institutional food of any sort.
She didn’t feel like eating, but Deidre obediently put a spoonful in her mouth. To her surprise, her tight throat seemed to relax at the warmth, and she discovered she was hungry, after all. No wonder they called it comfort food.
“It’s great. Thank your mamm for me.”
Anna’s normally cheerful young face sobered as she looked at Kevin. “We’re all praying. And he looks a little better, ain’t so? His color is most natural.”
“I think so.” Maybe it was the effect of the chicken soup, but Deidre dared to look ahead, just for a moment, to the day when a normal Kevin would be clattering down the stairs and sliding across the hall.
She couldn’t imagine getting through this without being surrounded by people who loved and cared about her and Kevin. Anna was getting up, obviously ready to leave, but there’d be someone else in the waiting room, ready to come in and join her silent vigil... Relatives or friends, they’d be here.
Someone tapped softly and pushed the door open a few inches. Jason Glassman hesitated. “May I come in?”
Anna snatched up her bag and kissed Deidre. “Ja, it’s fine. I’m just going.” Cheerful, outgoing Anna gave him a smile that was accompanied by a speculative gaze before she slipped out.
“My cousin,” Deidre said. Realizing the container was empty, she set it down as he approached.
“He looks better,” he said, as everyone did who came in. Some of them were just trying to be encouraging, but Jason had seen Kevin at the worst, and that meant something.
“I think so. But I’d like to hear it from the doctor.”
“I’m sure.” He glanced toward the door. “You have an Amish cousin?”
“I have thirty-four Amish cousins, to be exact. That’s not counting their children.” She took pity on his baffled look. “My father grew up Amish, but he left the church when he was a teenager. He maintained a good relationship with his parents and siblings, and so they’ve always seen me as one of their own.”
“Someone mentioned that you have a business selling Amish crafts. Do you do that with your Amish relatives?” Jason took the chair next to her where Anna had been sitting.
Had he been asking about her? Natural enough, under the circumstances, she supposed.
“Not exactly, although some of them do participate. I do a web-based business that allows Amish craftspeople to sell their products online. My partner is Judith Yoder, my neighbor. Although our family trees probably interconnect if you go back far enough.”
Jason looked from Kevin to her. “I guess this isn’t the best time for small talk, is it? Have the police been back?”
“No, thank goodness.” She edged her chair a little closer to the bed, needing to be able to reach out and touch Kevin.
“They will be.” Jason sounded certain, making her frown.
“What’s the point? I can’t tell them anything more.” Everything she had seen, he had, as well.
“They’re waiting for Kevin to wake up.” He sounded as if that should be obvious. “They’re hoping he saw what happened to Dixie.”
“No.” The word was wrenched from her as her heart cramped. “If he saw that...” She put her hand over Kevin’s as if that would protect him. “No child should have to bear that.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I put that badly. If he saw anything at all when he came down the stairs, it could help the police find the person who attacked your friend.”
She pressed her free hand to her temple, wishing she could push the thought out of her mind. Dixie, laughing, generous Dixie, was gone forever. She’d never hear her caustic comments or feel Dixie’s rare, warm hug. Deidre’s heart clenched painfully.
And Kevin might have seen something. Must have, surely, to cause him to fall. She didn’t want to consider it, but it had to be faced, and by bringing it up now, Jason was helping her to prepare. That had probably been his aim. An attorney had to think of that sort of thing for a client.
“I see that they have to find out. But they can’t do anything to endanger his recovery. He’ll need love and assurance, not questions.”
“I know. Believe me, I’ll do everything I can to hold them off. I can ensure that we’re present for any conversation the cops have with him. And it will only take place when his doctor says he’s well enough.” He leaned toward her, his eyes dark and intent. “That’s the best you can expect.”
Deidre managed to nod. He was trying to help, she knew. And at least she wasn’t having this conversation with her father-in-law. “All right. I guess it sounds as if I’m not even thinking of Dixie, but I am. She was a good friend, and...” Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t go on. The image of Dixie lying there was too vivid, stabbing at her heart.
“You told the police that you’d locked the door when you left the house. Are you sure?” He was probably trying to get the conversation back to a less emotional level, not that anything could.
“Positive. I remember doing it.” She shrugged. “When I was growing up, I don’t think my parents ever locked the doors. But things are different now, even in a town like Echo Falls. I locked it and double-checked, as I always do.”
“There was no sign of a break-in. That means either they had a key or your friend let the person in.”
She was already shaking her head. “The only person I can think of who has a key is my partner, Judith. If we’re away, she comes in to deal with things for the business and to water my plants.”
She was tempted to ask him why he was so intent about this. He’d have some sense of responsibility simply because he’d been with her, but it would surely be more natural for him to want to walk away afterward.
Of course, the judge had asked him to represent her. No doubt he saw it as part of his job.
Jason frowned, his lean face taut. “So Dixie probably let him in, whoever he is.”
“I suppose so.” She hadn’t even thought of it, and she tried to focus, but her mind kept straying back to her son. Surely the doctor would come in soon. “But I can’t see her letting someone in when she was staying with Kevin. Dixie was...” She hesitated, trying to think of how to explain Dixie to someone who hadn’t known her. “She gave the impression of being interested in having a good time and nothing else, but at heart she was so warm and giving. She loved Kevin, and she was very careful with him. She...”
Her voice broke, the memories overwhelming her. Dixie and Kevin laughing together over some silly knock-knock joke. Dixie giving up her afternoon off to take him to a children’s movie...
“Sorry.” He must have regretted opening the subject, but he didn’t seem inclined to back off. “Does Kevin often get up at night?”
“No.” It was another thing she hadn’t spared the time to ponder. “If he were frightened or ill, he’d call out to me or come to my room, but he ordinarily sleeps through the night.”
But not with the intensity and stillness he displayed now. Her fingers squeezed his.
“Would he be likely to wake up if he heard voices downstairs?”
Jason was far more demanding than the police had been. Deidre reminded herself again that he probably thought it was his duty. “He might, but...” The thought struck her. “He knew Dixie was coming, and he’d tried to stay awake to see her. I guess if he heard her voice, he might have had the idea of going down to talk to her.”
She could picture him heading for the stairs, trailing the blue blanket that he still liked to have when he went to sleep. She gasped and fought for control, closing her eyes.
Jason’s hand closed strongly over hers. “What is it?”
“Nothing. It... I just pictured it too clearly.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice seemed to deepen, as if he understood.
How could he? He barely knew her. Deidre took a steadying breath. “Kev didn’t necessarily see anything. He could have tripped on the blanket.”
“Possible.” Jason drew back, letting go of her hand. “But the police have to find out. Whoever killed your friend is still out there. He has to be found, both for her sake and your son’s.”
Fear jagged through her. “You mean Kevin might be in danger if that person thinks he knows something.”
“I mean the sooner the police know everything he knows, the better,” he said bluntly. “Then he can’t be a danger to anyone.”
That made sense, but somehow it didn’t offer a lot of comfort. Would the person who attacked Dixie reason that way?
“I just don’t understand it. If someone broke in, intending to rob the house... But they’d hardly do that when someone was there, would they?”
“The police couldn’t find any signs of a break-in.” His flat tone seemed to eliminate that possibility. “You’ll want to check, but there was no obvious indication that someone was trying to rob you.”
Deidre rubbed her temples. “Surely no one would have come there to deliberately hurt Dixie. How would they even know she was there? And if they thought I was home...” She didn’t finish the sentence. It made even less sense that way.
“That’s a good question. You’d expect, if someone was targeting her, they’d do it at her apartment, not at your house.”
“I can’t imagine anyone hating Dixie that much. She had some rough edges, but she hadn’t had an easy life. And she was so good-hearted. She’d have done anything for Kevin.”
“She was divorced, I gather. Any problems with the ex-husband?”
She ventured a glance at him. His face was stern, maybe judgmental. “Not anything recent. I don’t think she’d been in contact with him at all since she came back to Echo Falls. His name is Mike Hanlon. I don’t know where he lives.”
The police would look into that, of course. Didn’t they say that the spouse was often responsible in a murder?
“Would she have let a boyfriend in while she was there with Kevin?”
“No!” Her temper, already frayed, unraveled at that. “Dixie dated, but there wasn’t anyone serious, and even if there had been, she wouldn’t have invited him to my house. She wasn’t a teenager.”
Skepticism showed in his narrowed eyes. “You can’t be sure of that.”
“Yes. I can.”
She glared at him, knowing what was happening. He’d heard rumors linking Dixie with one man or another. He’d added that together with the way she dressed and the fact that she worked at a bar, and he’d come up with an answer—categorizing her.
Jason looked ready to snap back at her. But the door swung open, and Liz Donnelly came in, a chart in one hand. Deidre started from her chair, everything else dismissed by her need to know what Liz and the other medical personnel thought. She couldn’t seem to find words to ask the question.
Liz smiled. “It’s good news, really it is. All the tests we’ve done so far show little or no brain swelling, and his brain function looks normal.”
Deidre sagged against the bed. She’d been so braced to face whatever came that the relief was overpowering.
Liz patted her shoulder and then moved to the bed, taking a look at Kevin while she gave Deidre time to compose herself. “Everything here seems fine. Blood pressure right where it should be. Temperature normal. Breathing fine.”
“He’s going to be all right.” She had to hold back the tears.
But Liz seemed reluctant to go that far. “We can’t say positively what effects the injury might have until he’s awake, but if all continues to go well, we’ll wake him up slowly tomorrow morning.”
And when Kev woke up, they’d know. They’d know if he’d seen the attack on Dixie, and she’d have to find a way to help him through the consequences, no matter what.
* * *
STILL THINKING ABOUT the situation with Deidre and her son, Jason walked the few blocks from the hospital to the office. One thing he had to say about Echo Falls—nothing was very far. The town stretched along the valley floor, making Echo Falls narrow and long as it followed the contours of the land.
The ridges on either side were heavily forested, increasing his sense of isolation. Not the sort of place he’d ever imagined himself settling down. How long was he going to be able to take it?
For the moment, he didn’t have much of a choice. If he could hang on here for a few years, rehabilitate his reputation, have something positive on his résumé, he’d stand a chance of making a fresh start in a city more to his liking. Until then, he was stuck.
Just like he was stuck in this tangled situation between the judge and his daughter-in-law.
How much of Morris’s dislike was based on fact and how much on unfair prejudice against his son’s wife? He couldn’t tell. His job at the moment was to protect the kid, nothing more. But the more he saw of the situation, the less he liked it. He was torn between the judge’s opinion of who Deidre was and the woman who sat in agony waiting for the doctor’s verdict on her son.
And what did he do with the lingering thought that the tragic circumstances had brought him into just the sort of relationship with Deidre that the judge had suggested.
Jase walked into the reception area of the office to find a guy about his own age perched on Evelyn’s desk, apparently joking with her, to judge by their smiles. Since he was wearing a coat and tie, Jason deduced that this must be the partner he hadn’t met yet.
They both turned toward him at his entrance, Mrs. Lincoln adjusting her smile subtly. The man slid off the desk and held out his hand. “You must be the new guy. I’m Trey Alter. Welcome.”
Jase had a quick impression of something a little guarded behind the welcoming smile, accompanied by the kind of self-assurance that only came to those born to the position they occupied.
“Jase Glassman.” He shook Alter’s hand, revising his estimate of the man’s age. He was probably a few years older than Jase, fit and solid with an easy smile.
“Sorry I wasn’t around when you got in. I had a case that went to the federal court in Williamsport. I hear you’ve had quite an introduction to our little town.”
Obviously he’d heard all about it. Probably everyone in town had by now.
“Not what I expected, I admit. I’m just glad I happened to be around so that Mrs. Morris didn’t walk into the situation on her own.”
“A lucky coincidence.” Trey’s voice was dry. “I understand the judge asked you to act for Deidre...Mrs. Morris.”
Was he thinking that it should have been him? Most likely he was another person who’d known Deidre Morris her entire life. But he couldn’t have any idea of exactly why the judge had pushed Jase into this position.
“I was on the spot,” he said, careful not to sound defensive to someone who obviously belonged here.
Before Alter could respond, the outside door opened. Chief Carmichaels came in, nodded all around and zeroed in on Jase. “I’d like a word or two, Mr. Glassman.”
“Of course.” He wasn’t sorry to be interrupted. “Come through to my office.”
He led the way, reflecting on the fact that it hadn’t been his office long enough to feel a sense of possession. The wall of bookshelves wasn’t full yet, although it probably would be by the time he unpacked the cartons sitting in front of the shelves. He’d been a lot busier than he’d anticipated.
“Have a seat, won’t you?” Jase gestured to the client’s seat and sat back in the leather desk chair that still seemed molded to its previous occupant’s shape.
But Carmichaels paced to the window instead, staring out for a moment at what he probably considered his town. “This used to be Frank’s office.” His voice was neutral, but Jason wondered if there was implied criticism in the words.
“I know.” What else was there to say? “Frank was a classmate of mine at Dickinson Law.”
Carmichaels grunted, turning to face him. “I figured there had to be some connection. So...you’re representing Deidre Morris’s interests, right?”
Jason nodded. The chief was taking his time getting to the point of this visit. “She doesn’t need an attorney, but the judge wants me to shield her and the boy as much as possible. So far we haven’t had any problems with reporters, but...”
“If you do, you let me know. I’ll give them a quick boot on their way.” The chief came down heavily on Deidre’s side at the mention of the press.
“Good.”
Carmichaels walked to the desk, frowning. The silver hair and slightly thickened body made him look older, but he probably wasn’t much more than in his early fifties. He gave the impression of shrewd intelligence hidden behind a stoic facade.
“So I tried to sound out Kevin’s doctor today. She referred me to you.”
Jase leaned back in the chair. “You didn’t really expect her to tell you anything, did you?”
They seemed to cross swords for an instant, but then Carmichaels gave a shrug and a half smile. “It was worth a try. Look, Judge Morris asked me to cooperate. That’s all very well, but this is murder. I’ll cooperate with you, but not at the cost of my investigation.”
The judge’s power to control events might not be as strong as he apparently thought it was. But Jase still had a client to represent.
“Relax, Chief. I’ve already prepared Mrs. Morris for the fact that you’ll have to talk to Kevin. She understands, but she insists it can’t be until his doctor says so. And not at the cost of the boy’s well-being.” He deliberately echoed Carmichaels’s words.
Apparently deciding he meant it, the chief gave a short nod. “Okay. You’ll let me know as soon as I can question the boy.” It wasn’t a request.
Now it was Jason’s turn to want something. Time to see how far this cooperation extended. “Any progress on the case?”
Chief Carmichaels gave him a long look. “I’d think it a burglary gone wrong, but no one broke in. No evidence of ransacking, everything in perfect order except for the woman lying on the floor. You saw.”
“Was there any evidence that she fought back? You’d expect that, wouldn’t you?”
“None,” he said flatly. “From all we can see, it looks as if the woman was sitting there quietly when someone walked up and hit her. Used the heavy base of the lamp from the end table.”
“So deliberate.” Jase tried to think through what that meant. “No one who got that close could have mistaken Dixie James for Deidre.”
“No. Whoever did this knew who he or she was attacking. I can’t make it fit any other way. But finding out who and proving it are two different things. You know that.”
Was that intended as a barb? Maybe not, since the man was already continuing.
“Dixie James had a bit of a reputation as a partier since she got back to town. There were plenty of boyfriends, and the most likely scenario is that one of them came to the house that night. She let him in, things got out of hand, turned sour.” He shrugged. “If so, we’ll get him.”
“Mrs. Morris says that Dixie would never have let someone into her house when she was babysitting.” He wanted to hear the chief’s reaction.
Carmichaels didn’t speak at once. “I’ve known Deidre Wagner...well, Morris...since she was a kid. A good person. Honest, kindhearted, just like her folks were. Now, with her father gone and her mother remarried and living clear out in Arizona, she doesn’t have anyone to rely on.”
“I didn’t realize she was so alone.” He probably should have, but the subject had never come up.
“She has all her Amish kinfolk. Like them, she doesn’t easily recognize dishonesty in others.” He paused. “That’s a good quality, but it’s dangerous, too.” He focused on Jase, and his expression seemed to hold a warning. “I’d be upset if anyone hurt her.”
Was that warning intended for him? Or was the reference aimed at Dixie James? Carmichaels couldn’t know about the judge’s plans, or the extent of Jase’s involvement in those plans.
“As her attorney, I feel the same,” he said, carefully expressionless.
But he was going over what Carmichaels had said about Deidre in his mind. The man’s opinion of her was as far from Judge Morris’s as possible. Maybe he was right, maybe not.
But one thing he’d said Jason couldn’t buy. In his experience, honest women weren’t just rare—they were an endangered species. And he didn’t suppose he’d found one in Deidre Morris.
* * *
DEIDRE HAD RUSHED home early the next morning to shower and change, leaving Judith with Kevin. She wouldn’t have left without being sure there was someone there he loved, just in case he woke up.
She’d nearly forgotten that she’d left her car at the library, but Jason had brought it back, running again, and handed her the keys. He had waved off her insisting on paying the garage bill, saying it had just been a loose connection.
Now she willed the elevator to get to Kevin’s floor more quickly. Even knowing someone would call her cell if there’d been any change, she had to see for herself.
Nothing had changed in the quiet room. Judith smiled at her from the chair beside the bed. “It’s been perfectly calm and quiet while you were gone, but I’m certain sure Kevin’s color is better today.”
“Has the doctor been in?” She drew up a chair next to Judith and put her hand over Kevin’s, needing the skin-to-skin connection.
“Not yet.” Judith touched her arm comfortingly. “Soon, I’m sure.”
Now that she’d seen for herself that Kevin was safe, Deidre could manage to widen her thoughts to include someone other than her son. “I’m really sorry to drag you out at this time of the morning. How will Eli manage getting the children fed and off to school?”
Judith chuckled. “He probably gave them cold cereal out of a box, but that’s all right for once. It’ll make him appreciate me more, ain’t so?”
Since they both knew Eli and Judith had the happiest of marriages, Deidre didn’t think Eli needed any prompting. “You be sure he knows how much I appreciate it. Do you have a ride home? I could ask...”
“It’s all settled. One of the ladies from your church offered to drive me. I hear they’ve all been standing by to take turns doing whatever needs done.”
Deidre nodded, and the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed for Kevin filled her eyes at the kindness. “So many people have helped me since this happened. I don’t know how I’ll be able to thank them all.”
“Seeing Kevin well is all the thanks anyone needs.” Judith glanced at the clock that was mounted above a mirror on the far wall. “I should probably go down. I don’t want her to have to drive around waiting for me.” She studied Deidre’s face. “If you want me to stay...”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. I’m just eager to talk to the doctor. She said they’d probably let Kevin wake up today if all continued to go well.” Her heart lurched at the thought of seeing his eyes open, of knowing he recognized her. “Please, go on home. I’m fine now.”
Judith embraced her. “We are all praying,” she whispered. And then she was leaving, passing Pastor Adam in the doorway.
“I don’t want to intrude, but I had to see how Kevin’s doing.” He gave her a tentative smile. “Better?”
“I think so. The doctor should be in soon, so...”
Adam nodded. “I understand. I’ll leave you.” But he didn’t. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then he came closer and put his hand on her shoulder. “You know how much I...we all care. If there’s anything, anything at all, just...”
He sounded so eager to help that Deidre wished she could think of something for him to do. “I’ll call you, of course. Thank you, Adam.”
He nodded, patted her shoulder. “I’ll go now. Be sure you call me.”
Finally he was gone. Alone with her son, Deidre wrapped Kevin’s hand in both of hers. “You’re going to wake up soon.” She kept her voice soft. “All the boys and girls from your kindergarten class have made cards for you. When you open your eyes, you can look at them, okay?”
She heard the door and stopped, but Liz Donnelly just smiled and nodded. “It’s okay to talk to him. But right now Dr. Jamison and I want to have a few words with you.”
Jamison followed Liz into the room. He stood silent for a moment, studying a chart he carried, and Deidre’s heart began to thud. At last he looked up and focused on her.
“As we explained to you earlier, the reason for the sedation was to allow the brain time to rest and recover by reducing swelling.”
He seemed to expect a response, so she nodded.
“All of the tests we’ve run are looking good, so we’ve ordered to stop the sedation. Once your boy wakes up, we’ll be able to assess the situation in a different way.”
“Does that mean you’ll be able to tell if there’s been any permanent damage?” Her throat tightened as she said the words, and her hands felt clammy.
Jamison looked at Liz, as if passing the question off to her. Liz came and sat down knee to knee with Deidre.
“We just don’t know. Once Kevin is awake, we’ll want to see if there are any overt signs of damage. But signs can be very subtle, and there’s also the fact that he might demonstrate some impairment at first and then have that completely disappear as his brain continues to heal.” She patted Deidre’s hand. “It’s a game of wait and see at this point, but we’re agreed that we don’t see any indication of trouble now.”
Deidre managed to nod. What it boiled down to was that they really didn’t know. But when she looked at Kevin, his cheeks rosy as they always were when he slept, she found it impossible to believe he wouldn’t simply be himself when he woke.
“When do you think he’ll wake up?”
Liz glanced at her watch. “Anytime in the next hour or so. You can talk to him the way you were, but don’t make any other effort to rouse him. It’s better to just let him come out of it gradually on his own.”
Again Deidre nodded, but with a flicker of irritation. What did they think she was going to do—try to shake him awake?
“Good.” Liz rose, and Dr. Jamison was already halfway out of the room. “We’ll leave you with him, then. When he starts responding to you, just ring for the nurse and have her page me. I expect to be here in the hospital.”
“All right.” Much as she liked Liz, she was ready to have her go. Talking about the possibilities of difficulties with Kevin’s brain made them uncomfortably real.
But apparently she wasn’t destined to be alone with Kevin, because no sooner had the doctors left than Jason came in. “You haven’t been left by yourself, have you?” He seemed to echo her thoughts.
She managed a smile. “You just missed Pastor Bennett. And Judith was here before that.”
“Good.” Apparently he, like everyone else, thought she needed company. He looked at Kevin and nodded, as if pleased with his appearance. “What’s the verdict? Are they waking him up today?”
“Yes.” There was a world of relief in the word, but it was tinged with anxiety.
Jason seemed to pick up on what she didn’t say. He studied her face and then came to sit next to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, trying to deny the longing to spill out her worries and fears.
“There must be something, or you wouldn’t look that way.”
She couldn’t help smiling at his words. “You’ve only known me a few days. You can’t possibly know what my expressions mean.”
“Granted, it hasn’t been long, but they’ve been eventful days. You get to know a lot about people when you see them in a crisis.” Jason’s face tightened, making her wonder what had induced that grim look.
“Kevin’s going to wake up soon.” She squeezed the small hand that lay in hers. “When he does, we’ll have an idea of whether there’s any permanent damage. And we’ll know what he remembers.”
That was on everyone’s mind, it seemed. The police, of course, but maybe also the person who’d attacked Dixie. Was he still here in Echo Falls, waiting? Or had he fled? Surely that was what he’d have done.
“Whatever happens when he wakes up, at least you’ll have him back again.” He put a hand on the back of her chair rather than on her shoulder, as Adam had done.
She blinked back sudden tears. “Yes. Maybe I’ll be able to take him home soon. I won’t know what to do when we get back to real life.” She gestured to their surroundings. “This...all of it...doesn’t seem real.”
Jason seemed to consider her words. “It’s not normal, anyway. Well, today is the first step back. By the way, Judge Morris sends his apologies. He wanted to be here this morning, but he had to be in court.”
So that was why Jason had come. It wasn’t anything personal. Surely she wasn’t disappointed. She couldn’t be relying on the man. She barely knew him.
“I’m sure. I’ll call and give Sylvia the latest news once Kevin is awake.”
Sylvia hadn’t come to the hospital to see Kevin, and Deidre had been glad for that. It wasn’t that Sylvia didn’t care; it was that she was too fragile emotionally to be helpful.
Kevin’s hand stirred in hers—just a butterfly touch at first, then a definite movement.
“Kevin.” She leaned over him. “Baby, are you awake?” She sensed, rather than saw, Jason snap to attention next to her. “Kevin?”
Nothing happened for a minute that seemed to last forever. Then Kevin moved, wiggling a little as he did when she woke him for Sunday school. His forehead wrinkled.
“Wake up, baby,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “It’s time to get up now.” They were the same words she said every morning.
And, just like all those other mornings, Kevin blinked and opened his eyes. At first he stared, seeming puzzled, at the ceiling. Then he focused on her face. His blue eyes widened and he smiled. “Mommy.”
She’d never heard anything better in her life. It took a giant effort to keep her voice calm, her manner casual. “You awake, baby?”
“Sure.” He started to get up, then stared at the tube leading into his arm. “Mommy?” His voice shook. “What’s happening, Mommy? What’s that thing?”
“It’s okay.” She eased him back on the pillow, putting her arms around him. “You had a little accident and had to come to the hospital. But you’re getting better now.”
“Oh.” He settled down but still looked troubled. She thought he was trying to remember. “Did I fall out of the tree? That’s what happened, right? You told me not to climb so high, but I wanted to see.”
“Climbing the apple tree, you mean?” At a movement from Jason, she glanced at him. “That morning,” she said quietly. “Is that what you remember, Kev?”
He frowned. “I remember climbing up high in the tree. That’s all.”
Kevin was making up his own story about what had happened. It was a story that probably seemed normal and comforting to him.
Comforting because he didn’t know how he got hurt. Here was the answer everyone had been waiting for. Kevin didn’t remember anything about the attack on Dixie. However the police might feel about it, Deidre couldn’t help but be relieved.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ua9cdbaf1-35e7-5193-8ead-4738655b6416)
FROM WHAT JASON had seen during the time he’d spent at the hospital, Kevin awake was going to be quite a handful. It would try everyone’s patience keeping a lively kid like that quiet. But it was a lot better than watching him lie in the hospital bed unconscious.
Sitting unobtrusively while Deidre talked to the doctor, Jason had come away with an answer that troubled him. From what the pediatrician had said, she hadn’t been at all surprised that Kevin didn’t remember what had happened in the hours prior to his injury. Apparently that occurred often with head injuries. So for the moment, Kevin could be of no help at all to the police. Chief Carmichaels would be disappointed.
But there was also the possibility that the memory would come back as the child’s brain healed from the trauma. And if it did, what then?
Deidre had wanted to reject that result. Her fear had been palpable. But he couldn’t entirely dismiss the judge’s comment that something Deidre had done had put Kevin in danger.
Not intentionally, he was sure. He’d seen enough of her devotion to the boy to know that. But what did he really know about her?
For that matter, what did he really know about the judge? This situation was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment. He’d been desperate enough and raw enough emotionally to grab at the lifeline the judge had offered him. But the strings attached to that offer were pretty ugly when viewed impartially, and right at the moment, he didn’t see a clear way out of the position he was in.
He’d nearly reached the edge of town, where the row of graceful old Victorian houses petered out and farmland took over. He’d offered to pick up some toys to keep Kevin occupied, so he had a legitimate reason for going into Deidre’s house alone. He had the key she’d lent him so that he could complete his errand.
Pulling into Deidre’s driveway, he parked and slid out. The front door was locked, of course, but it responded readily to the key.
His fingers closed over the key as he stepped inside. Would the judge expect him to take advantage of the situation to have a copy made? Possibly. But even though his values had taken quite a battering during the events of the past six months, he wasn’t willing to compromise them that much.
He spared a flickering thought for Leslie, who hadn’t had any such compunction, and then dismissed her. Maybe it was a good sign that he’d been too busy to think of her more than once since he’d arrived in Echo Falls.
Jason came to a halt in the living room and had a cautious look around. The previous time he’d been here, he’d been focused on the emergency and the need to act. He’d barely been aware of the surroundings. He looked first at the spot where Dixie James had lain, on an area rug in front of the sofa. That rug was gone now, maybe to the police lab or maybe disposed of, and in its place was an oval braided rug, whose mellow colors blended with the blue upholstery on the sofa and chairs.
The room seemed furnished for comfort rather than style, as if a family had acquired pieces they liked over a couple of generations. A child’s toy airplane nosed against a framed photo of an older couple on an end table, and several magazines had slid to the floor from an overburdened rack. It wasn’t messy, just lived-in, he supposed.
He could imagine it annoying the judge, though. He’d already noticed that everything in the office had to be exactly the way the judge liked it, down to the way the pens were arranged on Evelyn’s desk.
He moved through the adjoining dining room, where tulips drooped in a vase, dropping their petals onto the polished surface of the table, and on into the kitchen. Deidre had apparently resisted the current urge toward steel appliances and granite. The cabinets were painted wood, and geraniums bloomed in a pot on one windowsill, while what were probably herbs grew on the other.
Beyond the kitchen he found what must be the headquarters of Deidre’s business. On one side, shelves and racks held packing supplies, while two walls were covered with shelves holding a variety of handcrafted items—everything from placemats to quilts to wooden toys and more. He zeroed in on the computer at one end of a long wooden table.
He switched it on. Deidre apparently hadn’t seen the need to password protect it, and he easily accessed the files. The computer seemed devoted to the business, though, with sales records, addresses, sample newsletters and photographs of items offered for sale.
Searching her email was similarly nonproductive—it contained only correspondence related to the business. If Deidre had personal emails, she obviously kept them elsewhere.
Glancing at his watch, he retraced his steps and started upstairs. He couldn’t take too long completing his errand, or Deidre might become suspicious. Still, he might not have another chance to prowl around her house undetected.
The police would have gone over the stairs with meticulous care, but as far as he knew, there had been no indication that Kevin’s injury had been anything other than accidental. He’d started down the stairs, tripped and fallen. Whether he’d tripped in shock from what he’d seen was an open question.
Four rooms upstairs. Which one was Kevin’s was obvious—typical little boy’s bedroom, decorated with train wallpaper and bright curtains to match. The items he’d come to fetch would be there, but for the moment, he wanted to see the rest of the upstairs. There was a guest room and next to it what might have been a study for Frank, furnished with bookshelves and a desk. He considered taking the time to search the desk, but if Deidre were hiding anything about an affair, it was unlikely to be there.
Her bedroom was the likeliest place. He moved into the room, feeling like an intruder. But that was part of the job, wasn’t it? Like the living room, this room had an air of permanence, as if the furniture had stood where it was for a lot of years and was comfortable there.
Jason dismissed the thought. This was no time to get nostalgic for a permanence he’d never experienced. He went quickly to the dresser, a massive affair of highly polished maple, and pulled open a drawer. Moving quickly, he felt under clothes, looking for any crinkle of paper or odd shape.
In the third drawer he found it—a sheaf of something under the drawer liner. He drew out the bundle. Cards, greeting cards, stretching back over the years, it seemed. A birthday card signed “Mommy and Daddy,” a graduation card, several Valentine cards. He opened one that read: “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you. You are my strength.” It was from Frank.
Feeling like a Peeping Tom, he shuffled through the rest and came up with nothing. As he put them back into place, he felt something else, something tucked back into the corner under the paper. He was reaching for it when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Closing the drawer as quietly as he could, he managed to be in the center of the room when Judith Yoder appeared in the doorway. She didn’t look surprised, but then she’d have seen his car in the driveway. But she did look suspicious.
When she didn’t speak, he hurried into speech. “I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you can help me. Deidre asked me to pick up a few things for Kevin, and I haven’t been able to spot the first one on the list. Do you know where his handheld electronic game might be?”
The suspicion in Judith face wasn’t allayed. “Not in Deidre’s bedroom.” She jerked a nod toward the next room. “Komm. It’ll be in here.”
He was very aware of her covert glances as she took the list from his hand and began collecting the items. A couple of small toy train pieces, a few books, a pack of crayons, the electronic game.
“Thanks. I’m afraid I’m not up on little boys’ toys.”
Judith tucked everything into a bright tote bag. “Please tell Deidre I’ll be in later this afternoon.” She handed him the bag. “Let me see you out.”
He’d gotten the bum’s rush a few times in his life, but never with so much politeness. Judith closed the door firmly behind him, and he headed to his car.
So she’d be seeing Deidre this afternoon, would she? What exactly would she have to say about this little episode? It seemed to him that his relationship with Deidre Morris might be ending sooner than either he or the judge had expected.
* * *
A FEW DAYS LATER, juggling a backpack and a shopping bag provided by the hospital, Deidre ushered Kevin into the house at last. It had seemed like forever, and she wondered how long it had felt to Kevin. She kept a close eye on him as they walked into the living room. Would being home bring back memories?
But Kevin seemed perfectly normal. He spotted Judith coming out of the kitchen with Benjamin and rushed over to them.
“Hey, Benjy, did you know I was in the hospital? I had my own room and a television, too.”
Benjamin grinned. He wasn’t too fluent in English yet, but the two of them chattered together in a scrambled mixture of English and Pennsylvania Dutch. “Me and Mamm brought whoopie pies.”
“Wow!” Obviously that was far more important than the hospital stay. “Can we have one now, Mommy? Can we?”
Deidre glanced at Judith and got a smile and a nod in response.
“Okay, you two. One each. Kevin, don’t run.”
Heedless, the two boys raced to the kitchen. Judith chuckled. “I wonder how many times you’ll say that in the next few days.”
“I might as well save my breath, but I have to try. The doctor said to keep him quiet.”
“Does the doctor have a five-year-old boy?” Judith asked innocently. “Might as well try to stop the wind from blowing.”
“True.” Dropping the bags, she gave Judith a hug. “Thanks for the treat. Maybe we’d better see if there’s any milk for them before they choke on mouthfuls of chocolate.”
“No need. I already poured it. And made sure you have what you need in the refrigerator. I knew you wouldn’t want to run to the store first thing. Your cousin Anna dropped off chicken potpie for your supper, so all you have to do is heat it up.”
Deidre had a ridiculous urge to cry. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Everyone has been so kind, coming to sit with Kev, cleaning the house, running errands...”
“Everyone wants to help.” Judith hesitated, and her serene oval face actually looked troubled. “That makes me think of something I must tell you.”
“Something bad?” She was instantly apprehensive.
Judith considered. “Maybe not. It bothered me, is all. The other day when I came over I found somebody here. That Mr. Glassman. He said you’d asked him to pick up some things for Kevin.”
Deidre’s tension slid away. “Actually he offered, but it was really helpful. Kevin was just about bouncing out of the bed, and I needed something to entertain him. It’s okay that he was here. I had lent him my key.”
“Ja, that’s what he said. But I found him upstairs in your bedroom.”
“In my room?” Odd, but she could easily see reasons why that would be. “Maybe he was just trying to find the things on the list. And he hadn’t ever been upstairs before.”
“Maybe.” Judith didn’t sound convinced. “But I’d think he’d have seen that Kevin’s toys were in his room, not yours.” She hesitated a moment. “He is a stranger.”
He was. She kept forgetting that. Natural enough, since he’d been with her through one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. But how much did she know about him?
“You’re right to tell me. Thank you, Judith. Denke.” She used the Pennsylvania Dutch word for thanks automatically.
“What will you do?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll have to decide soon.” She glanced at her watch. “He’s coming over so he can be here when Chief Carmichaels talks to Kevin this afternoon.”
“Ach, that man and his questions.” Judith looked exasperated. “He even talked to Benjamin, and what could Benjy tell him? Benjamin was in bed and asleep, and he hadn’t even seen Kevin since the morning.”
“I guess if they didn’t ask questions, they wouldn’t be able to find out what happened.” She tried to be fair, although her sympathies were with Judith. She glanced at the boys, sitting at the kitchen table and chattering around mouthfuls of chocolate and cream filling. “But I hope it doesn’t upset Kevin to have them asking him about that night. Maybe it’s wrong of me, but I hope he never does remember.”
They stood for a moment, watching their sons. Even though their lives were different in so many ways, she and Judith valued the same things: home, family, tradition. Judith would say that she was content in the place God had put her. It was a good place, despite what had happened to Dixie.
“We should go, since you’re expecting people.” She swept into the kitchen. “Ach, look at the two of you. Such dirty faces. Let’s get clean, and then Benjamin and I must get home.” She smiled at the expected outcry. “Benjamin can visit tomorrow, if your mamm says it’s okay.”
While Judith supervised the cleanup, Deidre put the milk away, noting that the refrigerator was filled with dishes she hadn’t put there. Obviously the neighbors were intent on seeing they didn’t go hungry.
By the time the front doorbell rang, Judith and Benjamin had already gone out the back. “Somebody’s here!” Kevin started to run to the door, but Deidre was close enough to grab him.
“You’re not supposed to run, remember? Just for a few days.”
Kevin nodded. “I know. But it’s hard to remember.”
“Try,” she said. “Okay, let’s answer the door.”
Jason had arrived before Chief Carmichaels was due, as they’d arranged. At first the judge had insisted that he be personally present for this interview, and he hadn’t taken kindly to her obvious negative reaction. Imagining the tension that could so easily develop any time her father-in-law was present, she’d been relieved when he’d given in to Jason’s reminder that he was representing her and Kevin. It had been hard enough running interference between the judge and the doctors, let alone trying to referee between him and the chief.
Jason came in, giving Kevin a friendly smile. “So, you’re home at last. Bet it feels good.”
Kevin nodded, instantly at ease. After a couple of visits with Jason at the hospital, Kevin had decided, apparently for reasons that made sense to a five-year-old, that Jason was an okay guy. “The hospital wasn’t bad. But being home is better.”
“Right.” He sent a questioning glance to Deidre. “Did you tell him about Chief Carmichaels yet?”
“No, I was just about to.” She reminded herself that she ought to ask him about what Judith had said. But not now. She touched Kevin’s shoulder. “Kev, Chief Carmichaels is coming over in a few minutes. He wants to ask you about your accident.”
“You mean when I fell out of the tree?”
Obviously she should have cleared that up for him before this, but she’d wanted to let him hold on to his comfortable story for as long as possible.
“You didn’t fall out of the tree, sweetie. It was later when you fell. During the evening. You fell down the stairs.”
His small face crinkled, and he shook his head. “But the tree...”
“You’ve forgotten some things from that day. That happens sometimes when a person gets a bad bump on the head.”
Kevin seemed to digest that. “Okay. I remember Chief Carmichaels from when he came to kindergarten to talk to us about safety. He let me wear his hat. Remember, Mommy?”
“Yes, I remember.” Kevin had been so proud, standing there in the cap that was way too big for him.
“But why does he want to know about me falling?”
“Well...” How did she explain that without getting into the thing she didn’t want to say?
Jason squatted down to Kevin’s level. “See, Kev, it’s this way. Sometimes the police look into accidents to see what caused them. Like if anyone was to blame.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Okay.”
Jason rose, opening the attaché case he’d carried in with him. “I hear you like trains, and I thought maybe you’d like this one.” He held out a new locomotive for Kevin’s train set.
“Wow.” Kevin’s eyes widened. “Wow. It’s for me?”
“For you. In honor of coming home from the hospital.” Jason grinned. “Think it’ll work?”
“It’s great.” Seizing the train, he raced for the stairs. “I have to put it on the track.”
“Don’t run,” Deidre cried as he reached the stairs.
“I’m not,” he protested, scrambling up them.
Deidre’s breath caught, her chest tightening as he scooted past the place where he must have tripped.
“It won’t always be this bad.” Jason’s voice was low and infused with more than simple empathy. “Even the worst memories fade with time.”
She looked into his face, but it didn’t tell her anything. He was too good at hiding his feelings.
“That sounds like personal experience talking.”
He shrugged. “I guess we all have bad things we don’t want to remember.” He turned, glancing out the front window at the sound of a vehicle. “Looks like Carmichaels is here. Are you ready?”
“I guess I’ll have to be, won’t I?” Deidre straightened her shoulders and tried to summon up some courage. Whether Judith was right or wrong in her opinion of Jason, at the moment Deidre was glad he was with her.
* * *
JASON DIDN’T KNOW where that need to reassure Deidre had come from, but he’d better get back to a more professional stance with her in a hurry. It was not part of his assignment to get that involved with her. All he wanted was evidence, one way or the other, to either prove or disprove the judge’s opinion of her.
Carmichaels entered, greeting Deidre with an avuncular hug. “Bet you’re glad to have that boy of yours home. How’s he doing?”
“Fairly well, so far.” She glanced at Jason as if asking him something, and he nodded.
“Before you talk to Kevin, I think Mrs. Morris wants to set up some guidelines.”
Carmichaels’s gaze went from Jason to Deidre, speculative. “Now, Deidre, you know me well enough to know I’m not going to bully the boy.”
“Of course, but I’m still concerned.” She seemed unconscious of the fact that her hands were clasped tightly. “He doesn’t remember anything about most of that day. He won’t be able to help you.”
“We won’t know that until I talk to him, will we?” Carmichaels glanced around. “Where’s the best place for us to talk?”
“Sorry.” Deidre’s fair skin flushed. “Come and sit down.” She looked at the sofa and seemed to change her mind, leading the way into the dining room instead. “We’ll sit here at the table, all right?”
Carmichaels might have preferred the scene of the attack, but he didn’t argue, just pulled out a chair and sat down, planting his elbows on the table. “How about calling Kevin, and we’ll get this over with.”
“Not yet,” Deidre said quickly, gesturing Jason to a chair. She glanced at the stairs, as if afraid Kevin would appear too soon. “Since Kevin imagines he fell earlier in the day, he doesn’t remember Dixie was here. So he doesn’t know that she’s... That she died.”
“Deidre, you don’t believe you can keep it from him, do you? Kevin could hear about it from almost anyone. Lord knows the whole town’s been talking about nothing else.” Carmichaels looked disapproving, and Jason had to agree with him on this one. What was she thinking?
“I know he has to be told.” Deidre’s color was high, and there was a stubborn look to the way her chin was set. “But I thought it was best if he heard it in his own home. I’ll tell him soon, but you’ll have to respect my decision as to when and how.”
That was Jason’s cue to do his job. “If we don’t have your assurance that you won’t mention the James woman’s death in the boy’s presence, then I’m afraid I can’t allow you to question him.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.” Carmichaels shrugged heavy shoulders. “Okay, I won’t say anything about her death. But he’s a smart kid. He’s going to figure it out soon enough.”
“All right, then.” Deidre seemed ready to accept the chief’s word. “I’ll get him.” She walked to the bottom of the steps and clutched the newel post. “Kevin, come down for a minute, please.”
It said something about the way she’d brought up her son that he didn’t embark on a shouted argument. Instead, he appeared at the top of the steps.
“Don’t run,” she said quickly, and he suspected that the words had become a kind of talisman for her. If she could keep him from running, she could keep him safe. Deidre wouldn’t believe that rationally, but the instinct was still there.
“Okay, Mommy.” Kevin put his hand on the railing, sliding it down all the way to the bottom.
“Remember, I told you Chief Carmichaels wanted to ask you a few questions about your accident, Kev.” She led him to the table, one hand on his shoulder.
Kevin didn’t look upset at the prospect, but when Deidre sat down and held out her arms, he climbed into her lap and leaned against her.
“This won’t take long, Kevin. Then you can go back and play, okay?” Carmichaels was clearly making an effort to keep it low-key.
Kevin nodded, his expression wary.
“Well, now, what can you tell me about your accident? Just say anything you remember.”
Kevin leaned against his mother, turning his head to look up into her face. She nodded in encouragement. “It’s all right. Just tell the chief what you remember.”
“I remember climbing in the apple tree,” he said promptly.
At Carmichaels’s baffled look, Deidre explained, “That happened earlier in the day. It seems to be the last thing he remembers.”
“You don’t remember being on the steps in your pajamas?”
Kevin shook his head. Again he looked up at his mother. “Is that where I fell?”
“That’s it. You must have tripped on your blanket and tumbled down.” She kept her voice even, but Jason could see that it was a struggle.
“Let’s go back a little bit,” Carmichaels said. “What did you have for supper?”
Clearly Kevin didn’t like not knowing the answer. His face scrunched up. “I don’t know.”
“Do you remember that Dixie was coming to stay with you?”
Jason thought Deidre stiffened at the mention of Dixie, but she didn’t interrupt.
“No.” He twisted to look up at his mother again. “Did Dixie watch me that night, Mommy?”
She stroked his hair. “Yes, sweetie, she did.”
“That’s easy, then.” Kevin’s face relaxed in a smile. “You just ask Dixie what happened. She’ll tell you.”
Before Carmichaels could speak, Jason rose. “I think that’s enough, Chief. Kevin can’t help you.”
“Maybe if we talked a little more...”
“No.” Deidre put both arms around her son as if shielding him. “No more.”
“That’s it.” Jase defied the man to argue. Deidre was within her rights. “The doctor who tended Kevin will tell you that he shouldn’t be pushed to remember.”
Carmichaels planted his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. “Okay. You’ve made your point. Thanks for talking to me, Kevin.”
The boy nodded, but then he burrowed his head against his mother’s chest. Her arms tightened around him.
“I’ll show you out.” Jason conducted Carmichaels to the door. In a way, he sympathized with the man’s frustration. He had a murder to solve, and the only potential witness couldn’t remember. But Jason had to protect his client, even if it threw a roadblock in the way of the investigation.
When he’d closed the door behind the police chief, Jason turned back into the room. He was just in time to hear Kevin’s voice, trembling a little. “Mommy, why did everyone look so funny when I said to ask Dixie? She’d know what happened. Why don’t you ask her?”
Tears shone in Deidre’s eyes, but she managed to maintain her calm. “I’m afraid we can’t. You see, Dixie got hurt that night, too.”
He looked up at her, frowning a little as if he struggled to understand. “Did she go to the hospital, like me?”
“Yes. She went in an ambulance, like you did. But she was hurt a lot worse than you were, Kev.” She stroked his head, and Jason could see her fingers shaking. “I’m afraid Dixie didn’t make it. She died.”
Kevin didn’t move for a moment. Then his lips began to tremble, and tears welled in his eyes. “Like...like Daddy?”
A spasm of pain crossed Deidre’s face. “Yes. Like Daddy.”
Kevin began to cry...huge, wrenching sobs that shook his whole body. He buried his face against his mother’s chest, clinging to her.
Deidre held him close, rocking back and forth. Above her son’s head, Deidre’s gaze met his, and Jason saw the anguish there. It ripped at his own heart, too.
* * *
ONCE KEVIN WAS tucked up in bed that evening, Deidre found it impossible just to kiss him good-night and leave the room. Usually he was the one who tried to prolong bedtime. Now it was she who suggested another story, another song.
But when he drifted off in the middle of a favorite book, she knew she had to let him rest. If she curled up on the bed next to him, as she very much wanted to do, she’d be telling him there was something to be afraid of. She couldn’t plant that idea in his mind.
Bending down, Deidre kissed Kevin’s soft cheek. He snuggled into the pillow, and his breath came slow and even. She forced herself to slip out of the room.
Stopping in the hallway, Deidre glanced down the stairs, seeming for an instant to see it the way Kevin must have that night, stretching out endlessly, with only the glow of the table lamp to dispel the darkness.
She ought to go down to the workroom and catch up on orders, but for the first time it seemed very far away. Finally, she went to the linen closet. It took her a couple of minutes to unearth the baby monitor she’d stowed on the top shelf ages ago. Setting the base just outside Kevin’s door, she carried the wireless receiver down with her. Kevin would be humiliated at the idea, but he need never know, and at least she’d hear him if he woke up.
Even with the precaution of the monitor, Deidre found it hard to concentrate when she reached the computer. There were several orders waiting for confirmation, and a few inquiries about special orders—mostly people who wanted an item made with a particular design or color. Focus eluded her. If she wasn’t thinking about Kevin, she was reliving the events of the afternoon.
She still hadn’t managed to talk to Jason about what Judith had said. But it had hardly been the time when he was so helpful in dealing with Chief Carmichaels, and so sympathetic while she told Kevin about Dixie.
It seemed unfair. Kevin had experienced too much loss in his young life. Not that losing Dixie compared to his father’s death, but he had loved her, too.
And she had loved Dixie, too. Their friendship had been different from hers with Judith, of course, even though she’d known them both as children. But where Judith shared her values, Dixie had been much more of a free spirit.
In her own way, Dixie had helped her through the painful time after Frank’s death. Dixie’s core of solid warmth was as dependable as it was surprising to people who judged her only on her exterior. Now she was gone, and tears clogged Deidre’s throat at the thought.
Deidre pushed away from the computer and rubbed her temples. Life would even out again. She knew that. But right at the moment, it was difficult to believe.
The telephone rang. Deidre frowned at the displayed number for a moment. It wasn’t one she recognized, and she answered cautiously.
“Deidre? Is that you, Deidre? It’s Lillian James.”
Dixie’s mother. Deidre’s throat tightened. She should have called her. “Lillian, I’m so sorry. So very sorry about Dixie.”
“Letting me get that call from the police... I’d think the least you could have done was call me yourself.”
Deidre stiffened. She’d forgotten what a negative person Dixie’s mother was. She’d always had something to complain about. But in this case...
“I’m sorry, Lillian, but the police insisted they had to be the ones to give you the news. I know what a shock it must have been.”
“You don’t know what it was like, hearing news like that in the middle of the night.” Lillian’s tone sharpened. “Terrible, and I didn’t have a soul there with me to help. You just don’t know.”
Actually she did, but there was little point in saying so.
“Poor Dixie. My poor little girl.” Her voice quavered. “It’s not right. Why haven’t the police done something about it?”
Deidre rubbed her forehead again. “I’m sure they’re doing their best to find the person responsible.”
“Heartless, that’s what they are,” Lillian continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “They were on the phone again today asking me what arrangements I’d made. As if I could be thinking of that when I was flat out with shock.”
“It’s hard on you, I know.” She tried to remember where Dixie had said her mother was living now. Somewhere near Pittsburgh, she thought. “Would you like me to refer you to a funeral director here? I’m sure they...”
“I can’t!” Lillian’s voice rose to a wail. “Nobody can expect me to do that. I’m too shaken up to even think about it.”
“But Dixie is your daughter. Surely you want to do this last thing for her.” Maybe that was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn’t come up with anything else.
“I can’t. I just can’t. That’s why I called you. You were Dixie’s closest friend. You’ll do it, won’t you?”
Unable to sit still any longer, Deidre paced across the room, the phone pressed to her ear. “I really don’t think that’s possible. Kevin just came home from the hospital, and...”
“Poor little lamb. He loved Dixie, too. I’m sure he’d want you to do it.”
Deidre clamped her lips together to hold back a sharp retort. She stopped in her pacing at the side window, staring out blankly as she tried to think of the proper response. Unfortunately, she knew what it would come to in the end. She wasn’t capable of refusing.
Dixie had never minced any words about her relationship with her mother. She’s a manipulator. Dixie’s voice seemed to ring in her mind. She goes through life using people. Well, I’m done letting her do that to me anymore.
Maybe Dixie could have managed that, but Deidre didn’t have her toughness. She glanced idly toward the building next door, toward the darkened windows of Dixie’s apartment, letting Lillian’s complaints flow on unheeded.
Averting her eyes from the windows, she noticed the clump of rhododendron at the corner of her property nearest the street. Its immense purple blossoms nearly hid the car that was parked at the curb.
No, not parked. Someone was sitting in it, though all she could make out was a man-size shadow. Her nerves seemed to snap to attention. What was he doing there?
“Deidre, did you hear me?” Lillian’s voice was sharp in her ear. Deidre dropped the curtain she’d pulled back and moved away from the window. She was jumping at shadows.
“What did you say?” She forced herself to concentrate on Dixie’s mother.
Lillian sighed. “I said you’re the logical person to make the arrangements for Dixie. After all, you were her best friend. And she died in your house.”
Deidre realized she was rubbing her forehead again. She’d give it until she’d finished this phone call. If the man was still there, she’d call the police and tell them someone was watching the house.
“I suppose you want me to clear out her apartment, too.” There was a certain amount of sarcasm in her tone, and she pulled herself up short. No matter how they’d gotten along, Lillian had lost her only child.
“Sure, that would be great,” Lillian said quickly. “I don’t want the stuff. You can sell it and just send me the money.”
“What about the funeral costs?” Deidre moved close to the window again, but this time she just pulled the edge of the curtain back an inch or two so she could see out.
The car was still there, and it seemed to her that the man was leaning forward, peering intently at her house. She dropped the curtain back into place, her hand closing into a fist. If Frank were here, he’d laugh at her for being afraid of the dark. This was the time of day she missed him the most. The house felt empty without him.
“Funeral costs?” Lillian contrived to sound as if she’d never heard the phrase. “I thought you’d want to take care of that. Seeing as how you were such good friends and all.”
Deidre found she was clenching her teeth so tightly that her head throbbed. Somehow she didn’t think anything she said was going to force Lillian to take on this responsibility, but Deidre would be darned if she was going to pay all the costs, as well.
“I’ll deal with everything,” she said, suddenly eager to escape the call, “once I receive written authorization from you allowing me power of attorney. And any money in Dixie’s account or realized from selling her personal belongings will go toward the funeral expenses.”

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