Long Lost Winter, page 8
His scowl was softer now. He almost looked like he might cry. Her heart ached when it shouldn’t.
She didn’t let that ache bleed into her voice. “Or you can stand up and face it. And we find some answers for you.”
His brows drew together. “Wait … you’re still going to help me?”
“Unless I find evidence that says I shouldn’t, you came to me for help. So I’m going to help. Unless you don’t want me to anymore.”
“No, I do. I…” He took a few halting steps toward her. “I’m not trouble. I swear.”
She knew it was dangerous to believe without proof. But his earnestness poked at her. The desperate need to not be seen as trouble. But if it was true and all she cared about was the truth, a little empathy couldn’t get her into too much trouble.
“I’m going to be in court all week, and probably the next couple. So, for now, I’m going to have you work here weekends. Come by Saturday morning and I’ll run you through your duties.”
“O-okay. Yes. I’ll be here.”
“Good. In the meantime, I’ve got some homework for you.” She got the notebook she’d put together last night when she couldn’t sleep.
And yes, she should have called Nate. She would have, if she thought he’d stay put at the ranch. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor. She needed to handle things on her own.
But she’d wanted an ear. Instead, she’d done work.
It was the Sam Price way.
“You’re going to go through the notebook and answer all the questions I put in there. You can write them in the pages, you can type them up and email them to me. Hell, you could even record yourself answering them and send me the audio file. Whatever you choose, be thorough. Be honest. Bring it back with you on Saturday.” She held out the notebook.
For a moment, he only looked at it. Then he blinked and nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and finally took the notebook. “I’m not trouble,” he said earnestly, those dark eyes so much like Nate’s.
She sighed, wondering how much it was going to fuck up her life that she couldn’t help but believe him. “I believe you, Bo. Now let’s prove it.”
Chapter Eleven
The Harrington Cabin
Jill was supposed to be working, but instead she was planning Aly’s bachelorette party slash bridal shower. There wasn’t exactly that much to plan considering the guest list was … three people total.
But once the trial was all over, Aly was going to need something fun. Something happy. And she wasn’t the kind of woman who would have enjoyed a big, raucous party anyway. This small gathering would be exactly what suited Aly.
Jill certainly hoped the wedding could be that happy for all of them, but she wanted as many things in place as possible as a reminder for her friend that no matter what happened, life had great things to offer.
Maybe it was a reminder for herself too. The trial had her tied in knots even though she wasn’t a part of it. Grandma had submitted a written statement—both at the time of finding the evidence against Mr. Bennet, and when the lawyer had asked for a more detailed account a few weeks ago.
Jill couldn’t help but worry that wouldn’t be all. She worried they’d somehow demand Grandma go on the stand. She worried that Grandma’s continued secrets connected to the Bennets. Worse, Marie Bennet, the victim. Jill worried and worried and there was nothing to do with that worry except plan Aly’s party and procrastinate the book she was supposed to be writing.
Because God knew Grandma wouldn’t answer any of her questions or concerns. And Jill just wasn’t any good at pushing, demanding. Not when she loved her grandmother as much as she did.
The knock at the door caused her to jump. It was pretty much unheard of to get unannounced visitors up here. Like all her worries had conjured up something terrible.
Which was ridiculous.
Maybe it was Aly, but she usually called first. And she should still be in court. No one else should be at their door, that was for sure.
At least Grandma was taking a nap. Jill crossed the short distance to the door and her heart dropped to her stomach when she recognized her visitor.
“Detective.” She’d dealt with Detective Hayes a handful of times over the past few months. He was always calm and professional, but him showing up at her door unannounced just … couldn’t be good.
He smiled. He had kind eyes and a handsome face. A tiny hint of salt at the temples of his dark hair. He was dressed casually, but there was nothing casual about the gun on his hip. Jill tried not to stare at it. Three years in Montana should make her used to guns, but she still wasn’t, even if Grandma had taught her how to use one. Even if he was a police officer, so it wasn’t just casual.
Jill didn’t like it, no matter how many people told her it was necessary.
“Ms. Harrington, I’m sorry to drop by unannounced. I tried to call, but it wouldn’t go through.”
Jill glanced at the phone in the kitchen. She often unplugged it when Grandma was napping as she had today.
“Sorry about that. Is everything okay?”
“Absolutely,” the detective assured her. “I have a few questions for your grandmother about her written statement. Some things Mr. Vanderbilt and I want to get straight before it’s brought into the trial.”
“Oh.” Jill looked behind her. “Um, she’s taking a nap. I hate to wake her up. These cold days are hard on her.”
“If you’d rather, we can always set up a meeting in town at the police station, but I was under the impression your grandmother didn’t … travel well.”
Again, Jill looked back at the little hallway where Grandma’s bedroom was. She traveled fine enough, but Jill hadn’t wanted Grandma to have to deal with the lawyer in some clinical office. Worse, a police station. It wasn’t that Glenda couldn’t handle it, it was just…
Jill didn’t have the vocabulary to explain how much she wanted to protect her grandmother from whatever had traumatized her into being incapable of speech. Grandma hated going to town, grew agitated about it. Jill didn’t want to push it unless it was necessary—like for doctor’s appointments.
Jill never wanted to push anything.
“I can wait,” the detective offered. When Jill hesitated, he gestured to his car parked out front. “I can just sit in my car for a bit. You can come get me when she’s awake.”
He was being so nice and patient. It was just foolish not to accept this was something that had to be done.
Jill shook her head, opening the door wider. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”
He stepped into the cabin. He was a large man, and it made the space feel small. Jill tried not to be nervous, but it was a hard-won thing. She didn’t quite know what about him made her nervous when she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Maybe because you’re still worried Grandma did.
She shook that thought away and closed the door behind him. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
“Well, if you’re offering and it isn’t too much trouble, a cup of coffee could go a long way in getting me through the day.”
“Coffee it is.” She forced herself to smile and move into the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, going through the steps to making coffee. The cabin was tiny, so it was easy to talk to him while she worked, and he sat on the couch. “Why are you asking the questions instead of Mr. Vanderbilt? I mean, I know he’s in court, but he handled the last statement.”
Detective Hayes nodded. “Just because the trial is ongoing doesn’t mean we’re not still investigating the case as a police department. Evidence is always a good thing. And if I take Mrs. Harrington’s statement today myself, then it’s something I can testify about as well when it’s my turn.”
Jill supposed that made sense. She finished the coffee, poured the detective a mug, and handed it to him when he said black was fine. Before she could pour her own mug, Grandma’s bedroom door creaked open.
Grandma stepped out. Jill tried to smile cheerfully. “Grandma, Detective Hayes is here. He’d like to ask you a few more questions about your written statements.”
Grandma was still for a moment, then gave a sharp nod, and held up a hand in a sign to wait. Then she shuffled down to the bathroom.
“She’ll be right with you,” Jill told the detective.
“Is there a room you could go to, so I could talk to her one-on-one?”
Jill frowned at him. “But … she doesn’t talk.”
“I know, but she writes. I know some sign language as well. It’d go a long way if it was just me and her in the room. Easier for the testimony. Cleaner.”
Jill stared at the hall, then him, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t like the idea of you interrogating her alone.”
“I won’t be interrogating her,” the detective said with a gentleness that Jill had to admit was soothing. “You’re friends with Aly Cartwright, aren’t you?”
Jill nodded.
“Then we’re all on the same side. I’m not going to unduly upset your grandmother.”
Jill wrinkled her nose. “Unduly.”
The detective’s smile was sheepish. “Well, the whole trial is upsetting. But the goal is not to upset. It’s to seal this case tight. To put Benjamin Bennet away for good. I realize that can be upsetting, since your grandmother knew the deceased. But we’re all working toward the same goal, right?”
“Yes.” The same goal. Everyone wanted Benjamin Bennet punished for what he’d done. Put away for good so he couldn’t terrorize anyone anymore.
“But she…” Jill had to step closer so she could lower her voice.
She didn’t want Grandma hearing this part, even if it wasn’t a secret. Grandma knew why she was the way that she was. But they didn’t discuss Grandma’s problems. They pretended they weren’t there.
“She’s not physically mute, Detective. It’s a psychological response to some unknown trauma. Her communicating with you without me there … it’s … she might not handle it well.”
“Psychological response,” he echoed. He took a sip of his coffee, something in his demeanor changing. “Seems to be a lot of that going on.” For the first time, there was no kindness or gentleness in his tone.
Jill stared at him. There was only one other person he could be talking about. “You don’t believe Cal?” Shock didn’t begin to cover it. So much of the trial rested on Cal’s traumatic memory loss returning. If the detective didn’t believe it…
“It isn’t my job to believe or disbelieve Bennet. It’s my job to collect evidence. And build a case.”
“I saw Cal. I know it’s true,” Jill said, needing somehow to get through to the detective. She lived with a woman whose brain was affected by trauma. She knew it was real, it happened, and it wasn’t controllable. Not by the victim. Not by the people who loved the victim.
And she’d been there when Cal had dealt with some of his returned memories. She’d seen the haunted, hunted look about him. The physical repercussions of remembering.
“I saw the way that memory affected him. You should believe him, Detective. You absolutely should believe him.”
The detective eyed her. She wasn’t sure if it was wariness, disbelief, or something else in his gaze. But it didn’t matter. Grandma appeared from the bathroom before Jill could think of anything else to say to plead her case. Cal’s case.
Grandma paused once before she came into the detective’s view, then straightened her shoulders and came around the corner. She eyed the detective warily but nodded. She moved toward the living room, then signed to Jill in her way. Basically saying, I can handle it on my own.
“Grandma…”
Grandma patted her arm as she walked past. A clear I’ve got it sign. And Glenda Harrington was a grown woman. Who’d lived through heartache and strife and something that had stolen her voice.
Jill didn’t need to protect her grandmother. Glenda was strong. Glenda could handle it. Jill might hate it and wish she didn’t have to, but she knew her grandmother could.
Jill forced herself to smile at the detective while Grandma settled herself into the chair opposite him. “I’ll just be in my room.”
“Thank you for the coffee, Ms. Harrington. I appreciate it and this.”
Jill couldn’t bring herself to say You’re welcome, so she walked away.
Hoping this wasn’t another disaster waiting to happen.
Chapter Twelve
Crawford County Courthouse
Sam had managed to slip into the courtroom right before court started. She had figured after her little morning argument with Nate, she’d have to scramble to find a seat. Instead, he immediately spotted her and raised a hand and motioned her over.
Like he’d been waiting for her. And he clearly had, because he’d saved her a seat.
Which wasn’t that big of a deal. They were kind of all in this together, even if he was pissed at her. But still, it eased one of the knots that had been tied tight in her chest since he’d left so abruptly. Not staying to deal with Bo.
He’d seemed so angry with her. So … she didn’t know. She just thought they were in a fight, and now he was acting like they weren’t. Which eased some things, but heightened anxiety over other things.
If they weren’t fighting, what were they doing? Because she doubted very much he was suddenly down with Bo Lake.
And Detective Jake Hayes.
Buy a clue, Sam.
He’d said that so disgustedly. And like it was obvious why there was tension there. When she didn’t think anything was obvious. Yeah, Nate had been a little weird about things when Jake had asked her out last summer, but it wasn’t like he’d … done anything about all that weird.
And she hadn’t ever gone out with Jake because everything had felt too unsettled and weird.
Still did, somehow.
She slid into the seat next to Nate just as the judge brought the court to order. Casually, Nate rested his arm on the back of her chair. Like he was physically including her in their little group.
Even if that hadn’t unnecessarily choked her up a little, the progress of the day would have.
The lawyers finished their opening statements and then the prosecution began to lay out its case. The witnesses today were all people who’d dealt with Marie Bennet’s dead body. Fire. Police. Coroner.
They painted a gruesome picture of what they’d found of Marie Bennet’s body and tomorrow would be worse. Getting into the medical examiner’s report and the early days of the investigation. Or maybe it just felt worse because every step was a bad memory for the Bennets, and worse, a day closer to the Bennets having to take the stand.
And her. Having to go over why she’d focused on Benjamin Bennet as a teenager determined to set her father free. Maybe if Sam had been able to do that back then, before his prison time had caused him to … lose his grip on humanity, or whatever it was, she would be happy to get up there and have been right all along.
But it felt like a moot point now. Tragedy compounding tragedy.
When court was adjourned for the day, Sam filed out of the courtroom with the Bennets. Into another freezing cold night. There was supposedly a storm front coming that would dump a foot of snow on them overnight. Sam wasn’t sure if she hoped it wouldn’t delay court or would.
“Well, see you tomorrow,” she offered, spotting Nate’s truck parked in the opposite direction of hers.
“Actually, I’m going to follow you back. I want to talk to you about something.”
He sounded so casual. So normal. She didn’t know why she felt weird. Maybe this morning wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he’d come to see her way of things. He wanted to have a conversation about Bo—good or bad. They could do that.
“Okay,” she agreed. She gave a little nod then walked over to her car. She glanced back at him.
He was watching her. The weirdness intensified. But she got in her car and drove back to Honor’s Edge. She parked around back like she always did, Nate pulling his truck in next to hers.
Sam got out of her car the same time he got out of his truck. God, it was cold, but she found herself hesitating. What was this about? Was it a conversation best suited to a cold so frigid she’d be too frozen to cry?
Had he not come around to seeing her way? Had he, in fact, done the opposite and this was going to be some kind of … break. A refusal to deal with Bo. With … her? Yeah, she really didn’t know if she wanted to go inside for that. Still, she was already shivering.
“Um, so, did you want to go inside or—”
“I bought the house.” He stood at the back of his truck, leaning against the tailgate. Like he wasn’t cold. Like he was as comfortable as could be.
And he’d bought the house.
Sam blinked. Of all the things she’d considered, she hadn’t really expected … good news. “Already?”
“I put in an offer this morning on the way to court. Had a message from the Realtor at lunch that the buyer accepted—they were motivated, like she said. Hoops to jump through yet and I won’t close until next month, but hopefully the trial is over by then and it can be like … a fresh start.”
A fresh start. God, what would that feel like? Well, if anyone deserved one, it was Nate Bennet.
“That would be great, Nate. I’m glad. You’ll have to let me know how my aunt takes finding out her easy mark isn’t staying put any longer.” She smiled and mostly felt it.
He didn’t laugh at the joke. He just kept standing there, leaning against his truck, studying her in a way she didn’t know how to parse. She wasn’t sure he’d ever looked at her with such … determined intent.
Determined to do what, though? Intent for what? She didn’t have a clue, and it made her weirdly nervous when she was almost never actually nervous around him. It almost reminded her of that first time she’d seen him as an adult, when she’d tracked him down to his loner cabin in Tennessee.
Like whatever portent had skittered across her then was coming to call.
“We should celebrate,” Nate said, pushing off the truck and walking over to her. “You’re a big reason I bit the bullet. You asked some great questions when we walked through. Let’s celebrate.”
