God, it would be so easy to discover the truth—if anyone really knew where to look.
“You’re gonna be sorry you treated me this way,” he shouted.
A moment later, the engine of his truck roared to life. When she peered through the window, she saw him back up and spin out on her lawn before disappearing down the street.
You’re gonna be sorry… echoed in her ears.
He won’t do anything, she told herself. Clay wouldn’t let him.
But Joe wasn’t their only worry. All that business about Jed’s locked file drawer frightened her.
Her phone rang.
“You okay?” Clay asked as soon as she answered.
She wasn’t sure. She wanted to pack up and head back to Jackson, to hide beneath the law-and-order persona she’d created and the pile of work she did each day. But something told her it was already too late. “He…he’s never liked me,” she said.
“Why’d he come by?”
“Just to remind me of that, I guess.”
“You’re not going to let him get under your skin, are you, Grace?” Clay asked.
She’d certainly let Joe and his friends unsettle her in high school. But she wasn’t in high school anymore. She was stronger now. The past thirteen years had to stand for at least that much.
“As far as I’m concerned, Joe Vincelli can go to hell,” she said.
“Good girl.”
Grace called her mother first thing the following morning. She might’ve waited too long to make the initial contact, but she wasn’t going to hurt Irene a second time. She’d come to Stillwater to salvage her relationship with her mother, not destroy it. “Would you like to come over for breakfast?” she asked, propping herself up in bed against her pillows.
As Irene started to speak, Grace heard a man’s voice in the background.
“Is someone there?” she asked.
“Of course not,” her mother replied quickly. “It’s only eight o’clock.”
Grace frowned. Could it have been the television? Or…“If you’d rather do this some other day, Mom—”
“I don’t want to put it off. You’ll be leaving too soon as it is. Just…just give me an hour or so to get ready.”
And get rid of whoever had probably spent the night.
“Okay…”
“See you soon.”
When her mother hung up, Grace dialed Madeline’s number. “I think whoever Mom’s seeing might be over there right now,” she said when her sister answered.
“Did she say she had company?”
“No, but I definitely heard someone.”
“It’s weird how she’s acting.”
“I don’t get why having a boyfriend is such a big secret. Does she think it might upset one of us? We’re all in our thirties, for crying out loud. Except Molly. But even she’s twenty-nine.”
“Maybe she’s seeing someone she’s afraid we won’t approve of.”
“Who could that be?” Grace kicked her sheet to the bottom of the bed.
“I have no idea.”
Irene was still an attractive woman. If not for that night eighteen years ago, and all its consequences, Grace suspected her mother would’ve remarried years ago. Especially once she no longer had four children at home. “I guess she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
“I suppose,” Madeline agreed.
Grace got up and walked to the window. This morning she was wearing a spaghetti-strap T-shirt with her panties, but after yesterday, she was careful to stand to one side as she looked down at the garden.
The weeds were gone, the rows carefully tended. Grace found the sight of everything she’d done gratifying, even though her muscles were so sore she could barely move. “I wonder if Mom has to work today.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I was thrown by the deep voice in the background.”
Madeline laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be going to work. Mrs. Little depends on her to run the boutique pretty much every day—except Sunday and Monday, when they’re closed.”
“Could it be Mr. Little?”
“Mr. Little?” Madeline repeated.
“Maybe Mom’s having an affair with a married man.”
“God, I hope not. For lots of reasons, but mainly because folks around here would crucify her.”
“They’ve never allowed her to keep a low profile.”
“She’d better be particularly careful right now.”
“Why?” Grace asked.
“Because you’re back. Their interest is piqued.”
Besides dealing with Evonne’s family and the real estate agent on the house, and visiting the pizza parlor and grocery store, Grace had kept to herself. How could she be the cause of heightened attention? “What difference does that make?”
“You’ve been gone so long folks are curious. So many people have asked me about you, I was thinking of doing another piece in the paper.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Grace said. “Why would anyone around here want to read about me again?”
“You’re attractive yet aloof. That combination drives people crazy. Anyway, I think they should hear about everything you’ve accomplished in the past thirteen years.”
Forever the advocate. What would the family have done without Madeline? “You’ve already made sure of that. Mother sent me the article you wrote last year.”
“I didn’t write it because you’re my sister. It’s not every day that someone from Stillwater graduates first in her class at Georgetown, then goes on to become an assistant D.A. who never loses a case.”
“So? I’ve only been working for five years. I’m sure I’ll lose in the future. Anyway, you know what the good citizens of Stillwater think of me, Madeline.”
“Which is why I like to let people know how badly they’ve misjudged you.”
Grace doubted Madeline’s articles would change anyone’s views. They’d always remember how she’d behaved when she was a teenager, when she was trying to save herself and destroy herself at the same time. “No article.”
“We’ll see how hard up I get for news this week,” Madeline said as if it was all decided. “What’re you doing tonight?”
“Nothing.” For once, Grace didn’t have a pile of cases to clutter her desk or her mind. She knew she’d get an occasional call from the office to ask about something she’d worked on in the past, but all her cases had been reassigned.