Secrets in a Small Town (22 page)

“Any other deep dark secrets we should know about?” her father asked, his gaze speculative. “Like you’ve become a conservative or you’ve joined a spacey cult that thinks the next comet is going to wing them to heaven as long as they’re wearing the right shoes?”

Her father was joking but Piper knew he was asking for anything else she might want to come clean about. She toyed with the idea of telling him about Owen, but seeing as she didn’t know where that stood, she figured why risk blowing the feel-good moment over something that may be a nonissue, so she simply shrugged and shook her head. “Just the same old me. Except for the meat-eating part.”

“I guess I can live with that but I’d keep it on the down low with your mom. You know how she feels about that stuff.”

Yeah, she knew. She imagined if she came out and said, “Mom, I eat meat and I’ve given my virginity to Owen Garrett,” it’d be a toss-up which declaration would cause Coral to fall in a faint to the floor.

Her mother came back to the room and handed a thick manuscript to her. But as Piper began to scan the pages, eager to start, Coral stopped her with a gentle hand. “Not here. Take it and read it at home. Frankly, I’m relieved to see it go. It’s been under our roof for too long.”

Piper nodded her understanding and leaned in for a kiss on her mother’s cheek. She inhaled the sweet scent she associated with her mother and smiled.

“This is in good hands,” she promised, and then gathered her purse. She couldn’t wait to start reading. Hopefully, something stood out…something that might point her in the right direction.

He picked it up, the first real smile of the day finding him, but it died when he heard the somber tone of his foster brother’s voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, fear eating his gut. “It’s Mama, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Thomas answered. “You need to get a flight home. Now.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You know those tests the doc ordered? Routine, she said. Well, turns out maybe they weren’t so routine but she hadn’t wanted to worry us. They found something. A tumor. It looks like cancer of some sort.”

The strength went out of his legs, and luckily, he was near the sofa when it happened. Cancer? Mama Jo? She was tougher than rawhide. He wiped his palm down his jeans leg and swallowed the damnable lump that kept rising to choke him. “How bad?”

“I dunno. Just come home. She needs to see you, man.”

“Of course. I’ll take the next flight.”

“See you then. Call me with your flight details. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“You got it.” He clicked off and sat for a long moment, staring at his phone, unable to process the horror and fear of what was happening. Mama Jo…she was their anchor point, their touchstone. If she were gone… Tears gathered and fell. He wiped at them but they kept coming until he was sobbing, the sound hoarse and rasping as his heart poured out all the terror he’d known as a small boy alone in the world until Mama Jo filled the empty space with plenty of love. He couldn’t imagine her not being in this world, making it a better place.

He should’ve made more time to visit. Hell, he should’ve dragged her stubborn butt onto the plane so he could show her a slice of his world here in California. But he hadn’t. He’d been consumed with all the things that cluttered his life with crap. He’d forgotten what was important: family.

And damn it, all his family was back east…not in Dayton.

He went to his closet and pulled out a suitcase and started throwing clothes into it. When it was full, he zipped it up and placed it outside his door. He dialed up Timothy and asked him to look after Timber for a few days, maybe even a week, and then after placing a key under the mat for Timothy to pick up later, he threw his suitcase in the back of the truck and climbed inside to leave. But Piper, driving like a madwoman, pulled in beside him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not in the mood to chat. He didn’t wait for her answer. He had a plane to catch. “I was just leaving.”

“Wait,” she called out, her voice a high screech. She clutched a sheaf of papers to her breast as she chased after him. “I have to talk to you,” she said breathlessly, climbing into the truck in spite of his unwelcoming glare. “It’s about your dad. I think I’ve found what I was looking for that will prove your father’s innocence.”

“Get out,” he demanded, startling her with his curt response. “I have to catch a plane.”

She looked hurt—wounded even—but she covered well. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

She frowned. “To…Bridgeport?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

He gritted his teeth, unable to even say the words without tearing up. Man, what a big sissy he’d turned out to be. “My family needs me. Mama Jo…she’s sick. I’ve got bigger problems to deal with than your single-minded focus to earn a Pulitzer,” he added with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“Okay, I might have deserved that one,” she allowed, even though her stare narrowed. “But I really think you should hear this.”

“It can wait,” he said, reaching across and opening the door for her in a not-so-subtle motion that said
get out.

She glared at him and purposefully shut the door, placing the papers firmly in her lap. “If you want me out of the this truck you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“Damn it, Piper, I’m not messing around.”

“Neither am I.”

Holy hell, how’d he get messed up with this crackpot? “Fine,” he said, getting out and going around to the other side of the truck to jerk open the door and grab her by the waist and flip her over his shoulder. She shrieked in surprise and barely managed to hold on to her papers, but that didn’t stop her from jabbering as she started making her case to his backside. “My mom wrote a research paper on the behaviors of the purists with the hopes of publishing it for her PhD when they were at Red Meadows.”

“Figures,” he grumbled. “Another person trying to capitalize on Red Meadows.”

He deposited her firmly on the ground and started to walk back to his truck but she refused to let him go. She jumped in front of him, blocking his door. “My parents were pretending—like your dad—to get inside information, but for different reasons. They managed to document some of the events and people involved without anyone’s knowledge.” She lifted the papers in her hand and shook them at Owen until he batted them away with a scowl but she didn’t quit. “Now will you listen to me?”

She posed a persuasive argument even if he wanted to walk away and leave the experience with Piper Sunday as an unfortunate memory but he had a commitment to Mama Jo. “We’ll talk about it when I get back,” he said, giving a little. But that wasn’t enough, and Piper countered with her own idea.

“Let me go with you,” she suggested. “We can read on the plane. Besides, didn’t you tell me your brother Thomas works for the FBI? That’s perfect. He might be able to answer some questions I have about the investigation part of the case.” She scrambled to her car and pulled an overnight bag that was in her trunk. He stared, dumbfounded and she explained with an efficient grin. “I’m always prepared at a moment’s notice. You never know when the next big story is going to break or where it will take you. Besides, my dad always insisted I keep emergency stuff in my car, like flashlights, water, granola bars and a change of clothes in case I find myself in a predicament.”

How could he argue with that logic? “I don’t know, Piper…this is my family and they’re going through something terrible. I think I should do this alone.”

Her lovely, stubborn mouth firmed as she shook her head, tossing her bag into the truck alongside his. “That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do. Being alone isn’t a badge of honor or courage, Owen. And there’s no shame in admitting that you don’t want to be alone.”

Had he admitted that? He canted his gaze at her, realizing she wasn’t going to quit. It was either take her along or fight her all the way to the airport, where she’d probably end up finding her way on the plane anyway.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, beaming, as she pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I happen to have some frequent-flyer miles I never found time to use so you don’t even have to worry about a ticket. I’ll log on while we drive so that by the time we arrive at the airport, it’ll all be set.” She hopped into the truck and motioned to him. “Well, c’mon, slowpoke. We’re going to miss our flight!”

Owen couldn’t quite believe it but he was going to Bridgeport…with Piper Sunday in tow.

“So tell me about Mama Jo,” she said, hoping to break the ice between them. There was still plenty that needed to be said but she figured a plane cabin wasn’t the most appropriate location, so she sought to distract him for now. “Tell me what it was like when you first came into her home.”

Owen shifted in the tiny seat, clearly uncomfortable with their accommodations but he seemed grateful for something to focus on aside from whatever turmoil was in his head.

“I was the first in Mama Jo’s care. I was twelve and she’d been taking in troubled kids for a while by that point but her home was empty when I arrived. I was a mess when I got there,” he admitted.

“I can only imagine. How did you cope with a black caregiver, given your background?”

“Ah…not well,” he said, his gaze clouding. “I was a real jackass for a few weeks. But she wore me down with kindness and firm discipline. And in the end, I was still a brokenhearted kid who’d been abandoned by circumstance and she seemed to understand that somehow.” He cracked a grin as he shared a memory. “Mama Jo had a belief that anger was an emotion that had to be physically worked out or else it just festered beneath the surface to show up later. So you can imagine how three messed-up kids acted when they got hot under the collar. Her answer to that kind of stuff was to send us out back to chop wood.”

Piper smiled, finding that little bit of information delightful. “Did it work?”

“Hell yes. By the time we were finished chopping wood, our arms felt about ready to fall off and we didn’t want to bother with anything else.” His smile deepened. “She’s one smart woman. She knew a thing or two about raising boys.”

“She didn’t have any children of her own?”

“One. Cordry. He died in a group home for troubled youth. I guess that’s why she got into foster care in the first place. She wanted kids who had nowhere to turn to have a safe haven somewhere. But she said when she met me and my brothers, Thomas and Christian, she’d found her true purpose for being a foster parent and that was to find her boys.”

“Wow. That’s so awesome.”

“Yeah. She’s something else.”

“So what’s going on with her right now?”

He looked away, out toward the view across the wing and into the clouds below. “She’s sick. Cancer.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Piper said softly, reaching over to tuck his hand into hers. “It’ll mean a lot to have you all there for her.”

He nodded, his gaze finding their entwined hands and he gave her fingers a soft squeeze. “I should’ve done this earlier. It’s been too long since I’ve been home.”

She remained quiet, sensing his admission didn’t require a rejoinder. Taking a risk, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She resisted the urge to sigh contentedly. There was still an ocean of problems between them but for now, she was going to enjoy the moment. Within minutes, she’d fallen into a blissful sleep.

They messed around for a minute as they loaded the luggage but soon they were in the car and driving to Bridgeport.

The sights and smells took him back, and the trip into the past was powerful stuff. He’d left so soon after high school and it’d been a long time since he’d even come home for a visit. Sobering, he asked after Mama Jo. “So, what’s the word? What kind of cancer are we talking?”

“Breast. But the doc says we caught it early so there’s a good chance she’s going to beat this.”

“Is she getting good care? What’s her health insurance like?” he asked.

“Well, she’s on Medicare and that’s at least better than nothing, but me and Cassi have been picking up some of the tab for her treatments.”

“I want to pitch in, too,” he volunteered immediately. “What about Christian?”

“Yeah, he’s helping, too.”

“Good.”

Piper remained quiet in the backseat of Thomas’s truck, observing their interaction with something of an enigmatic smile on her face.

Thomas glanced at Piper in his rearview mirror. “So you two friends or something?” he asked, fishing for details that Owen wasn’t ready to share.

“Or something,” Owen answered for her making her frown. “She’s that reporter I told you about.”

Thomas’s brow inched upward in surprise. “The same reporter who…”

“Who was trying to make my life a living hell,” he supplied for his brother. “The very same.”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to do that. We have a difference of opinion on that score,” she retorted, pausing to give Thomas a blinding smile. “Piper Sunday. So pleased to meet you.”

Thomas was likely dying to know why he’d brought the “yellow journalist” home with him but Owen would have to fill him in later. Right now, he wanted to focus on Mama Jo, so he gave the basics of his association with Piper. “We’re working on a project together and time was an issue, so she offered to come with me.”

She opened her mouth to add her own twist but he quelled her with a look. He didn’t need his brother knowing their personal business. She snapped her mouth shut and turned to gaze out the window, effectively closing him out and promising an earful later, but he’d deal with her ire behind closed doors.

“What project?” Thomas asked, curious.

“Later,” he promised. “I’m beat from the flight and the peanuts I ate on the plane didn’t go very far. Mind if we stop and get a bite before we head to Mama’s?”

“If I bring you home with a bag of fast food I’ll be disowned. You know better than that.”

He scowled. “Mama Jo doesn’t need to be worrying about feeding people right now. She needs to consider her health. She should be resting.”

Thomas cut Owen a sidewise glance. “Man, it has been a long time since you’ve been home. Have you ever known Mama Jo to slow down even when she ought to?”

“No, but maybe that’s the problem. She’s run herself into the ground taking care of others.”

“Cassi is back at the house, helping Mama Jo. When she heard you were coming, she set to making enough cornbread to feed an army.”

His mouth watered at the memory of Mama Jo’s cooking but he felt like a toad for the jump in anticipation. “Cassi’s helping out?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s about the only one Mama Jo lets in her kitchen these days.”

“Things good between you?” he asked.

Thomas cracked a wide grin. “They’re good.” The self-satisfied smile said more than good. Owen shared his brother’s happiness. They all loved Cassi. For him and Christian, she was the sister they never had. For Thomas, she was the one.

“Who’s Cassi?” Piper chimed in from the back.

“My wife,” Thomas answered. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet her when we get to Mama Jo’s.”

Owen chuckled to himself, imagining how Piper’s jaw would drop when she found out how Thomas and Cassi got together. It made for interesting conversation when your brother was tasked with arresting his secret first love when she was on the run from the law. Owen still couldn’t believe how they ended up happy and in love after they’d both traded punches before the “you’re my soul mate” part started. And according to Thomas, Cassi had a wicked left hook.