A Texas Family
Jena had to put her trust in Carson, and she found the thought oddly disturbing and uplifting at the same time.
Hilary swerved into the driveway, headlights blinding Jena. Jumping out, Hil said, “Hey, sis, I brought chicken-fried steaks for supper.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had Mabel’s chicken-fried steak.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. I brought chocolate pie with mile-high meringue, too.”
They walked toward the steps, and Hil suddenly stopped. “Didn’t get the yard mowed, huh?”
“Why didn’t you buy a self-propelled mower?”
Hil shrugged. “They cost more, and the guys usually mow, but they’ve been busy. I thought I’d get it done by the time you arrived.”
“I did the back, and, believe me, my muscles will be protesting tomorrow. As I was pushing that blasted thing to the front, the constable drove up.”
“What did Carson want?”
“To ask questions about that night.”
“Is he going to do anything?”
“Yes. I believe he is.”
“Hmm. You sound different than you did this morning. Are you developing a soft spot for the constable?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
“If you say so. But he’s s-o-o good-looking if you like tall, strong and masculine.”
“Shut up.” She held the door open and Hil laughed, walking inside.
“Hey, Mama, time for supper,” Hil shouted.
Norma clicked off the television. “I wondered where you girls were.”
“She seems fine,” Hil whispered in the kitchen.
“She’s been that way all afternoon.”
“Told you. It comes and goes.”
Hil ran around the kitchen in her cute cowgirl boots like a bunny on steroids, putting the meal on the table and fixing tea.
“How much coffee have you had today?”
“Enough.” Hil made a face.
They sat around the old Formica-and-chrome table and ate. It was reminiscent of better times. Before her dad started drinking heavily. Before Jared. Before...
“It’s nice to have my oldest home,” Norma said. “I was going to bake a cake, but I couldn’t get the stove to work.”
“It’s just temperamental,” Hil replied. “I can make it work, but I brought food and pie. We’re good.”
“Okay.” Norma continued to eat, but Jena noticed a change in her. She became quiet and stared at the refrigerator. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Norma mumbled, “It’s getting chilly. We’ll probably have ice in the morning. I saw on the TV it was snowing somewhere.”
Hil choked on her pie, coughed and took a quick gulp of tea. “What the hell was she watching?” Hil mouthed.
“Wheel of Fortune,” Jena mouthed back.
Hil shrugged. “It’s not that chilly, Mama.”
“I wonder where my flannel gown is.” Their mother stood and meandered to her room.
They cleaned the table and put the containers in plastic bags. “I’ll take the trash to the café in the morning.” Hil tied the top of the bag into a knot.
“What do we do about Mama?” Jena asked.
“I don’t know. I just agree with whatever she says. That seems to work best.”
They went to their mother’s bedroom and found her standing near the bed in a flannel nightgown, looking confused. “Where’s my electric blanket, Hilary?”
“It’s on the bed.” Hil winked at Jena.
“Good. I wanted to take a bath, but it’s just too cold.”
“That’s okay, Mama.” Hil helped her into bed.
“Is the blanket on?”
Hil knelt and pretended to fiddle with something. “How’s that?”
“Much better.”
Her sister got to her feet and kissed their mother. “Night.”
“Now, don’t you girls talk all night. You have school tomorrow.”
“We won’t.”
Her mother was in another time and another place. Maybe after all she’d been through it was a better place for her. And she had the resilient strength of Hilary to help her. Once again Jena was amazed at her sister’s patience and compassion.
She kissed her mother’s forehead. “Night, Mama.”
“I’m so happy to have my beautiful daughter home.”
“Hey. What am I? The ugly duckling?” Hil teased.
“You’re my sweet, good daughter.”
Hil flicked off the light. “Yeah, like that’s gonna get me a date with Ryan Reynolds?”
“The actor?” Jena asked as they walked out.
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t he married?”
“So? I’m not picky.”
“You’re a nut.”
Before Hil could respond, Jena’s cell buzzed, and she ran into the bedroom to get it. “It’s Blake,” she said.
“I’ll take a bath and give you some privacy.” Grabbing a T-shirt out of a drawer, Hil disappeared into the bathroom.
“Hi, Blake.” She sat on the bed.
“I was getting worried. You didn’t call.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted me to.”
“Of course. I worry about you going back to that place.”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you talk to the constable?”
“Yes, and he’s being very cooperative.”
“I don’t know why you don’t let me handle it. Then you wouldn’t have to go back there.”
She drew a deep breath. Blake was a master manipulator. “My mother and my sister are here, and I wanted to see them. If I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”
There was a long pause. “The office is not the same without you.”
“I’ve been gone one day.”
“It feels like a month.”
She gripped her phone. Blake was ten years her senior and good to her, but he tended to push too hard and that immediately sent alarms sounding through her. When she’d started working for Blake’s firm, she was hired as a receptionist, and she was happy to get the job. It paid well. Then one evening Blake and his team were working a major high-profile case and one of the assistants called in sick. Blake’s secretary asked if she could stay late and help out.
The next day Blake complimented her on her hard work and that made her feel good about herself. The personal assistant who’d been ill soon quit because she was having a difficult pregnancy. Blake offered Jena the job, and she’d gladly accepted. Her job was basically being at Blake’s beck and call. Between his secretary and Jena, they kept him on track and on time. Jena usually joined the entourage who went with him to court, and she loved that part of her work.
Jena looked on Blake as a father figure. He looked on her as something more. They’d gone out a few times, and she made it clear she wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment he wanted. She didn’t know if she would ever be.
Of course, he’d wanted to know why. She had to be honest, so she told him about her ordeal in Willow Creek. As a lawyer, he was outraged and determined to get justice for her. He offered to do it pro bono.
But she refused to let him fight her battles. If she did, it would move their relationship to another level, and she didn’t want that. She listened when he told her that her rights had been grossly violated and Asa Corbett should be in jail. Nine years was long enough, she’d decided. She had to face her past. She had to know about her child.
“Jena?”
“Oh...sorry.” She’d drifted away from the conversation. “I’ll probably stay longer than I’d planned. My mom is not well, and I need to help my sister with her.”
“Take as long as you need, but don’t let that country constable take advantage of you.”
“I won’t.” She couldn’t imagine Carson doing that, but then, she hardly knew him.
“I could take care of everything, and you wouldn’t even have to see the Corbetts.”
She gritted her teeth. Blake did not get the meaning of the word no. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call tomorrow. ’Bye.” She clicked off and slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Through?” Hil asked from the doorway in a T-shirt that had Kiss My Grits on it.
“Yeah.” She got her nightclothes out of her suitcase and went into the bathroom to calm down. Blake could be so sweet. Other times he was controlling. She would only ask for his help as a last resort. She could handle this on her own.
When she came out, Hilary was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, her head resting on the mattress as she stared at the ceiling.
Jena followed her gaze and slid down beside her, looking up. “You painted that?” A mural of a baby-blue sky, fluffy white clouds with a rainbow shooting across, graced the ceiling.
“Yeah. It’s relaxing, isn’t it?”
“Mmm.”
“I sit here or lie in bed and dream about what’s at the end of the rainbow. A place where the phrase ‘poor white trash’ doesn’t exist. Where rumors and gossip are unheard of. Where there are beautiful homes with manicured lawns and gorgeous flowers. And I live in one of them with a man who loves and respects me.” Hil turned her head to look at Jena. “What do you dream about?”
She swallowed hard. “I dream one day this big empty hole in my heart will be filled. I’ll wake up one morning and be free from the past. But most of all I dream of holding my child in my a-arms.” Even though she tried to stop it, her voice cracked.
“Oh, Jen-Jen.”
Hilary hugged her, and then they both burst into tears—two girls from the wrong side of town dreaming of a better way of life. For Hilary, her dream would probably never come true. She was stuck in Willow Creek. That broke Jena’s heart.
For herself, her dream was just within her grasp.
CHAPTER THREE
ASA DIDN’T FEEL well and went to bed early. Aunt Fran gave him something to help him rest, so Carson didn’t get a chance to talk to him. The next morning Asa was still asleep when Carson had to take the kids to school, but he told his aunt to call when Asa was up. He wasn’t sure how to confront his father, considering the man’s mental state, which was precarious, but he had to do it.
He had a sick ache in the pit of his stomach at what had been done to Jena Brooks. For he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her baby had been taken by his father. He just couldn’t figure out why, especially since Asa didn’t believe the baby was Jared’s.
A life for a life, his dad had told her. Could that mean...? He couldn’t even finish the thought in his head. What kind of a monster would kill an innocent newborn? Not one he wanted to be related to.
There had to be an answer somewhere. There were other people involved in this, and the only way to find out who, was to look through Bernard Milliner’s files, as he had been the constable at the time. Since Jared’s case was a murder, the sheriff’s office would have handled the investigation, but it happened in Bernie’s precinct, and he would have been there on the scene of both murders.
When Carson reached his office, he started looking through the files. His office was filled with regular office equipment and filing cabinets. He also had a small storage room that housed old files. Nothing much happened in Willow Creek, but all cases were documented, and the records went back over fifty years.
He found the paper work and sat down to read. Jared’s body had been found by Roland at 8:12 p.m. on a Thursday. Bernie had a note jotted on the side: Asa sent Roland to look for Jared when he didn’t come home. Carson already knew this. He had been able to fly home three days after the murder, and Asa was still ranting and raving about revenge. Carson had asked the doctor to give him something to calm him. But Asa had still been frighteningly angry. To him, it seemed Lamar’s death wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Did he get what he wanted?
It had been a horrific time, and Carson didn’t look forward to the thought of reliving it. To find answers, though, he had to go back.
Lamar Brooks was found at his house at 6:05 a.m. the next morning. Just like Jared, he’d been killed with a shotgun blast to the chest as he got out of his truck. Asa was the logical suspect, but ballistics could not match the gun with Asa’s. The murder weapon had never been found and neither had the murderer. What a mess.
The door opened and his friend Levi Coyote strolled in with two cups of coffee. “Hey, I haven’t seen you in a week, so I thought I’d stop by for a minute. I even brought coffee.” He and Levi had been friends since they were kids. Along with Ethan James, another friend, they’d been as inseparable as brothers growing up. Ethan was a detective in Austin and Levi was now a private investigator, but their roots ran deep in Willow Creek.
“Thanks. I could use it.” He took a sip from the disposable cup.
Levi pulled up a chair. He was a tall, muscled guy. Carson and Ethan decided a long time ago that in case of a fight it was always good to have Levi on their side.
“What’s the hangdog expression about?”
“Jena Brooks is back in town.”
“Shit.” Levi almost spit coffee all over the room. “Is her child with her?”
“No, and that’s the problem.” He told his friend what Jena had told him.
“Man, that’s quite a story.”
“Yeah, but she’s not lying. I found the bloodstain in the basement.”
Levi shook his head. “Asa’s always been a little off-kilter, but since losing Jared he’s been way off.”
“He hasn’t been able to cope with Jared’s murder, and I’m so afraid...that baby is dead.”
“If he did something so heinous, you’ll never find the body on the Bar C. It’s too big. Where would you start digging?”
“Oh, man.” He ran his hands over his face. “This is hell. I might have to arrest Asa. I can’t do that, Levi. I can’t do that to my own father.”
“Just take it slow. You’ll need more than that stain in the basement to prove Asa was involved. Start searching for info. You know people around here love to talk, and I’ll help. I’ll be away on a case today and tomorrow, but I’ll check with you when I get back.”
“Thanks.” Carson placed his hand on the papers on his desk. “I’ve been going through the murder files, and I can’t understand why Lamar would kill Jared. You were around at the time. Did he hate Jared?”
“Just the opposite. He bragged about his daughter marrying a Corbett. She’d never want for anything.”
“Did Jared ask Jena to marry him?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I remember he was crazy about her.”
“Maybe it was more about the sex than something long-term. Maybe Lamar confronted Jared and demanded he marry his daughter and one thing led to another.”
Levi shrugged. “Could be. But it was real stupid of Lamar to leave his shotgun at the scene.”
“Mmm.” Carson flipped through the files. “After my dad was ruled out as the murderer, no one else was ever questioned.”
“Nope. They closed the case and no one objected.”
“Why? That’s not normal police procedure.”
“I was clocking a lot of hours as a cop in Austin at the time, but Pop said the sheriff investigated and a Texas Ranger got involved. Then suddenly the case was closed. Like I said, no one was too concerned who killed Lamar Brooks. He’d murdered an innocent boy, and everyone felt he got what he deserved.”
“That’s not justice.” Carson had a bitter taste in his mouth that so much about what had happened back then seemed to be overlooked and easily forgotten.
Levi shrugged.
Carson shifted through the papers. “Bernie doesn’t have too much, but I’ll read through all of it, and then I’ll go to San Marcos to see what the sheriff has on the murders.”
“Don’t expect too much.” Levi crushed the cup in his hand. “The case was wrapped up quickly. My advice is to talk to Minnie again. She’s your weak link. And, of course, Asa.”
“He had a bad night. When he wakes up, I plan to confront him.”
Levi stood and aimed the cup toward the trash can. It landed perfectly. “Bam. Three points. Coffee’s on you next time.”
“You got it.” He picked up the lawyer’s card from his desk. “Ms. Brooks works for a criminal attorney now. She’s giving me a chance to find her child, and then she’s turning it over to the attorney.”
“Damn. That’s the last thing you need.”
“Yeah. Because of Pa’s involvement I can’t let her do that. I’ll have to call Ms. Brooks and ask for more time.”
“Do you think she’ll agree to that?”
“I don’t know. She seems...nice.”
“Nice?” Levi lifted an eyebrow.
“She was determined at first, but when I talked to her last night she seemed more amenable. She just wants to know what happened to her child, and I understand that. I feel for what she’s been through.”
“Oh, crap.”
“What?”
“You’re getting...hmm?” Levi’s eyes narrowed in thought. “What is that word women keep telling us we don’t have?” He snapped his fingers. “Emotions. Yeah, that’s it. You’re letting your emotions rule your head.”
“I am not!”
“This is how it starts, you know. The dance. The romance.”
Carson leaned back in his chair. “I can honestly say there will never be any romance between Ms. Brooks and me. There are a million reasons why. The number one reason is her father murdered my brother, and there’s no love strong enough to overcome that. Besides, I have no romantic interest in Ms. Brooks. My goal is to find her child and try to keep my father from being arrested.”
“What does she look like now?”
“What?” He was thrown for a second.
“She was a pretty teenager. I bet she turned into a beautiful woman.”
“I didn’t look that closely.” He frowned at his friend. “Besides, the first time I saw her, she was hurling accusations right and left, and I just wanted to get her out of my office and out of my life.”
“Good.” Levi glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to run. Talk to you when I get back.”
As Levi walked out, Carson linked his hands behind his head. He had lied to his friend. He knew exactly what Jena Brooks looked like: she had sad, soulful dark eyes, dark flowing hair and a smooth curvy body that was titillating when bathed in sweat. He’d never admit that to anyone but himself. Since Beth, he hadn’t even looked at another woman, and it bothered him that he’d noticed Jena.
No, there could never be anything between him and Jena except a past they both wanted to forget.
* * *
JENA WAS ON her way back from Dripping Springs. Last night she and Hilary had talked until after midnight. Jena wanted to do something for Hilary in appreciation of everything she’d done for their mother. That led to a long discussion. Hilary didn’t want anything. She was her mother, too, she’d said. In the end, they agreed to fix up the house. It was long overdue.
Hilary wanted a buttercup-yellow house with white shutters, so Jena bought all the supplies and Hilary’s friends would do the work. In a fit of indulgence, she went ahead and bought shingles to finish the roof.
Her cell buzzed and she reached for it in the console. “Hey, Hil.”
“Did you get everything?”
“Yes. A soft yellow, just like you wanted. It’s going to look so nice with the white shutters. Are you sure the guys will do this?”
“Yes. I told them this morning, and Billy Jack said he’d bring the paint sprayer over tomorrow.”
“I went ahead and bought shingles. And we have to get new screens, but I have to measure them first.”
“Wow. You are being generous.”
“I left everything at the store for Billy Jack to pick up.”
“Good deal. I can’t wait to see the new look. I’m tired of that drab house.”
“That’s why you paint murals all over it?”
“Yes, I... Hold on. I’ve got another call.”
In a minute Hil was back. “Sis, it was Carson. He wants to see you. You didn’t give him your cell number.”
“Oh, crap. I forgot. I’ll check on Mama and then head over to his office.”
“I’ll check on Mama. You go to his office. He might have some news.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.” She clicked off and felt a rush of excitement run through her. Maybe he’d talked to his father. Maybe he knew... Oh, God. Her hands grew clammy on the steering wheel.
She turned into the parking area of the constable’s office and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Grabbing her purse, she got out and stared at the building. Was it only yesterday she’d come here with every word rehearsed in her head? With every dream intact in her heart?
Opening the door, she went inside. Carson sat at his desk, reading through a big file.
“Come in,” he said. “Have a seat.” His eyes looked worried and his hair was tousled as if he’d been running his fingers through it.
She sat in a chair, placed her purse on the floor and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Yesterday she’d been dressed in her best clothes. Today she was casual in white capris, sandals and an olive-green sleeveless top. She was thinking inane things when the most important subject was almost too painful to broach.
“Did you find the bloodstain on the basement floor?” she asked, her heart beating a steady tattoo against her ribs.
“Yes.”
“And you talked to Asa?”
“No. Sorry.” He looked up, his green eyes tortured.
She ignored that look. “You saw the stain, but for some reason you haven’t talked to your father?”
“No.”
She got up, grabbed her purse, intending to leave and call Blake right away. This was unacceptable.
But he was faster than her, blocking her path to the door. “Please, Ms. Brooks. I’m asking for more time.”
“I’ve been without my child for nine years. That’s enough time.”
“Please.”
Something in that one little word said in earnest got to her and she weakened. Or maybe it was the broad chest and wide shoulders that held her attention. A light citrus scent teased her nostrils. Swirls of brown chest hair peeped out from the V of his white shirt. Jared had had boyish good looks, but Carson had a raw masculinity that made her aware he was a man and she was a woman.
“I was going to talk to him last night, but he wasn’t feeling well and my aunt gave him a sleeping pill so he could rest. When he wakes up, I’ll try again, but you have to understand he’s not the strong domineering man you remember. He’s never gotten over Jared’s murder, and he’s very fragile in his body and in his mind.”
“I understand that.” She hitched the strap of her purse higher. “My mom is not doing well, either. She’s in her own little world. The tragedy has affected so many people, and it still lingers. My father’s murder was never solved. Either the authorities covered up for Asa or they didn’t care.”
“Could we talk about that?”
“The murders?”
“Yes. I have a lot of questions.”
She sighed. “What good will that do except to dredge up old heartaches and pain?”
“The cases were closed very quickly, and I feel there is still evidence out there to help corroborate your story.”
What was it about this man that made her see his point of view? “Okay. Okay. I’ll answer questions. Again, I might add.”
“I appreciate that.”
She turned toward the chair and noticed he was still standing by the door. “Are you afraid I’m going to sneak out?”
“Just making sure,” he replied with a half grin. The tired expression was gone from his face, and she knew he could be quite persuasive if he applied himself.
She resumed her seat, as did he. As she placed her purse back on the floor, she noticed the photo on his desk. Her nerves had been so helter-skelter when she was in the office before she hadn’t even seen it.
“Your children?” She pointed to the photo.
“Um...yeah. Trey and Claire.”
The boy had brown hair and favored Carson. The little girl was her mother all the way. She remembered Beth Corbett—a beautiful blonde. Hilary had told her about Beth’s death. That had to have been hard to lose his brother and wife within a few years.
“I’m sorry about your wife.” She felt she had to say something.
“Thank you,” he replied in a neutral tone, signaling the subject was off-limits.
He shuffled through the file. “Why did your dad shoot Jared? Was there an ongoing feud between them?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You mean because of me?”
“Yes.” He looked up, his green eyes intense.
“It may surprise you to know that my father had no interest in my or my sister’s lives. When he learned I was pregnant, he said at least I had enough sense to sleep with someone who had money.” She clenched her hands in her lap. Her childhood had been riddled with strife. Her father had been a decent person until he started drinking. Then he became abusive. They used to dread the sound of his truck in the driveway. Their mother would get them out of their beds and hurry them outside in the dark to hide. She would then take the brunt of his drunken rage.