The Sweet Gum Tree (22 page)

He nodded. “That’s because you’re still a Morgan, the closest thing to royalty this town has, and that makes you fair game. It’s different with Nick. Some of what I’ve heard is just plain vicious. Think about it, Sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I better get to the house before your mother sends the troops after me. The girls are in the midst of planning a trip.”

“To where?”

“Hardy. I’ve been nominated to take them Friday morning so they can spend the weekend buying out the craft stores. We’ll probably stay with your Uncle Vern, so you’ll have to keep an eye on the Judge.”

Uncle Vern had moved to Hardy after he’d retired. He said his social security check went further there, and he could spend his time hunting and fishing.

“I will.” I didn’t add that as little as three months ago, it would have been a given that I’d go along with them. I loved Hardy, an old town on Spring River, in the Ozark foothills, that catered to tourists. Its single main street was lined with ancient buildings that now held craft shops of every shape and variety. Camping and canoeing on the river was also a big draw.

A dull ache settled around my heart as I watched my father walk away. I’d never felt so lonely in my life, so alienated from the women in my family. It was as if the supports had been knocked out from under me, leaving me teetering on the edge of a void I hadn’t known was there. I had Jenna, of course, but it wasn’t the same, and she had her own busy life to lead. Mentally, I made a note to do something to thank her, maybe send her a nice bunch of flowers.

I looked down at the black and white kitten sprawled across my arm, sound asleep, and thought about what my father had said. I knew exactly what he’d implied. I may have left Hugh, but the town still regarded me as a Morgan. Plus I was the owner of Southern Supply, a store quite a few people made their living from. A few well-chosen words from me in the right places could probably stop, or at least slow, the gossip about Nick.

Depositing the limp kitten on the bench, I went back into my room. I didn’t know what to do. If it had only been Nick and Lindsey, I wouldn’t give a flip what people were saying. They were adults, they should be able to handle it the same way I did. But there was also Daniel, and I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, even though that small, mean spirit that lives in all of us wanted me to, kept whispering that he was the product 124

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of Nick’s betrayal. And yet the saner, rational part of me knew that none of what had happened was the boy’s fault. Plus, he looked too much like Katie for me to ignore.

There was one thing I could do, and that was talk to Cody. As the sheriff, he would know if anything could be done legally to Nick, and he knew when to keep his mouth shut. At least that would tell me what I’d be up against and give me a few more days to think about it.

But deep down, I already knew. I couldn’t let Daniel be treated the same way Nick had been treated growing up. He was Katie’s brother, and even though I’d only discovered his existence a few hours ago, in my heart, I felt getting to know him would somehow bring me closer to her. If that meant saving Nick from the good people of Morganville in the process, so be it. In a strange way, we’d come full circle and were right back where we’d started. The thought didn’t thrill me.

God, how do I get myself into these messes?
I thought, taking the aspirin bottle out of the medicine cabinet.

* * * * *

Cody looked at me inquiringly from across my desk as I handed him a cup of coffee. I had to admit, he’d turned out pretty darn good. He’d even lost his northern accent, speaking now like a native son.

Why he’d never married was a mystery to me. The way he looked in his uniform caused normally respectable women to act like a gaggle of giggling school girls when he walked into a room. It was disgusting, but Cody seemed to take it all in stride, never failing to be polite even while he remained uninterested. I knew he dated occasionally, but it always seemed to be women from out of town, and it never got serious.

I’d called him first thing that morning and asked him to stop by when he had a chance.

“What’s up?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

“You know Nick Anderson is back?” I relaxed in my chair, trying to look casual.

“Sure.” He took a sip from the cup, his eyes narrowed against the steam as he watched me over the rim. Unlike Sheriff McAbee, his predecessor, Cody made it a point to know everything that went on in the county.

“And you know what happened fifteen years ago?”

“I’ve read the file.” His voice remained noncommittal.

“So, what do you think?” I waved a hand nervously in the air.

He set his cup down carefully and tipped the brim of his hat back with one finger.

“You mean, does Nick have a legal right to come back?” He crossed an ankle over his knee, settling deeper into the chair. “Alix, Sheriff McAbee had no legal right to force him to leave. I haven’t seen anything that would lead me to believe Frank Anderson’s 125

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killing was anything but self-defense. If Nick had put up a fuss, there wasn’t much McAbee could have done about it. Too many people knew Frank was abusive.” He hesitated. “McAbee was from the ‘good old boy’ school of law enforcement. If he didn’t want to honor a law, he just did an end-run around it. By all rights, there should have been an arraignment. I’ve always figured the Judge twisted his arm a little that night because he didn’t want to put Nick through all that.” That news left a bitter taste in my mouth. Had Nick known they couldn’t force him to leave and chosen to go anyway? It wouldn’t surprise me.

I took a deep breath. “Could the case be reopened? Could he be tried for murder after all this time?”

“There’s no statute of limitations on murder, so hypothetically, yes, it could be reopened. But there would have to be some pretty solid evidence for me to consider it, and I don’t see it happening. Why the sudden concern about Anderson?” My shoulders tensed. “I’m not concerned about him. But there’s been some talk, and I don’t want to see his son get hurt.”

“Uh-huh.” He picked the coffee up and took another sip. “You and Anderson used to be pretty close.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long.” He finished the coffee and stood. “Be careful, Alix. Your marriage just ended and you don’t need to rush into anything else. I’d hate to see you get hurt again. As for the talk, that’s all it is. People will forget about Nick as soon as something new comes along to gossip about.”

“Believe me. You have nothing to worry about.” I stood and came around the desk.

“Heard from Casey lately?”

“Naw. But you know how he is.”

I did. Casey had gone on to law school at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock after college. It was there he’d met his high-priced wife, and together they’d set up a ritzy practice in our capitol city. We rarely saw him these days and suspected he had his eye on a career in politics. It seemed he was always too busy for family.

“Well, when you do, tell him hello for me.” I kissed his cheek. “And thanks for coming by.”

* * * * *

I got my first chance to make some headway on the gossip about Nick a lot faster than I’d wanted or expected, and in a way that rendered a few repercussions I hadn’t planned on.

The sky was a uniform gray when I left Southern Supply that evening, the clouds low and slow moving, and a fine rain misted my windshield as I drove through town. It 126

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wasn’t heavy enough to soak, just enough to make me feel damp and uncomfortable. I knew from experience that in a few hours fog would cover everything like a fluffy white blanket, and I decided to stop at the IGA on my way home instead of waiting until I changed out of my work clothes.

The IGA was owned and run by Mr. and Mrs. Burgess, lifetime residents of Morganville. Their prices were a bit higher than the big chain grocery stores in Jonesboro, but I’d always figured the convenience and the savings in gas made up the difference. Besides, their son, Neil, worked for me. He was a nice young man with a sweet wife and two babies, and he worked hard at his job.

The store was full of people who had the same idea I did. I ignored them for the most part, merely giving a nod and a smile when someone spoke to me. It had been a long day. I only wanted to get the items I needed, go home, take a hot shower, and curl up with a book for the evening.

There were two checkout counters, situated so close together there was barely room to walk between them. Mrs. Burgess manned one, Mr. Burgess the other. Mrs. Burgess was currently busy checking Gretchen Treece’s groceries, although it looked like they were doing more talking than checking. I went to Mr. Burgess’ lane. I’d always liked him better anyway.

We exchanged perfunctory greetings as I placed the handbasket holding my items on the counter, then reached into my purse for my checkbook. Mr. Burgess’ fingers flew over the cash register keys as he tallied up my items. By the time he finished, both lines had filled up with customers waiting their turn.

Gretchen chose that moment to notice me. “Why, Alix. I swear, I haven’t seen you at the club in ages.”

No, and if I had anything to say about it, I’d never set foot in the place again. But I made myself smile. “Really?”

“I suppose you heard that Nick Anderson is back?” Her eyes were avid with curiosity. Immediately, I tensed, but before I had a chance to respond, Mrs. Burgess jumped into the conversation.

“Well, I think it’s just awful, letting a murderer run around loose like decent folk. I can promise you he won’t be doing any business here. We don’t need his money.” Without thinking, I snatched back the check I’d handed Mr. Burgess. “Well, since you obviously don’t need any more business, I’ll just take mine elsewhere. And while I’m at it, I’ll spread the word that people should find another place to shop. I know Acres will appreciate the extra business.”

Acres was a store out on the highway and the bane of Mrs. Burgess’ existence.

While smaller than the IGA, they carried much the same stock and she constantly complained about the competition.

Mr. Burgess took my check back and glared at his wife. “Ain’t nobody ever been refused service in this store, and there ain’t never going to be. Do I make myself clear?” 127

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Mrs. Burgess’ face reddened, but she kept her mouth shut, probably remembering suddenly that her son worked for me. Unfortunately, Gretchen was only getting warmed up.

“Now, Mr. Burgess, you know we have to set a high standard for this town. If we don’t, degenerates and perverts will overrun our streets, corrupt our children. And it all starts with people of low moral standing. They’re the ones we need to keep out of Morganville.”

I swear, I don’t know what hit me. Maybe it was all those years of watching Piggy throw herself at anything in pants, doing her best to make my life miserable. Whatever the reason, a fierce elation welled up inside me as I spoke.

“Oh, really?” I purred. “I wasn’t aware that Peggy was leaving town, but since we don’t allow people of low morals to live here, I guess it is for the best.” You could have heard a pin drop, the silence behind me was so deep. I could almost feel the other customers leaning forward, ears straining to catch every word.

The blood drained from Gretchen’s face, but her nose went up in the air and she sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then allow me to enlighten you.” I braced both hands on the counter. No doubt I was a fearsome sight to behold right then, because Gretchen took a hurried step back.

“Since Peggy turned thirteen years old, every woman in this town has known to lock their husbands up when she was around. Not that it did them much good. Your daughter seems to have no qualms about climbing any man in her vicinity. Including my husband.” I lifted one hand and examined my nails casually.

“I will admit, though, she must not be that good. That was one of the shortest affairs Hugh ever had.” I lowered my hand and looked her right in the eye. “Of course, I
had
to divorce him after that. There was no way I could sleep with him knowing where he’d been. I’d have had to boil him first. What if he picked up some disease from her?” A shudder I didn’t have to fake ran through me.

Gretchen sputtered furiously and looked like she was ready to faint, but I had one more point to make. “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Gretchen.

You might want to remember that before you start trying to run someone out of town.” Calmly, I picked up the bags Mr. Burgess had packed for me, then paused to let my gaze sweep the crowd. Most of the women were smiling, as if they were tempted to let loose with a spontaneous cheer. The men were a different story. The majority of them looked worried, their gazes skittering away from mine, guilt written all over their expressions. Probably wondering how much I knew, I decided. And after those looks, I knew quite a lot. In sheer numbers alone, Piggy had managed to put Liz Swanner to shame.

My adrenaline rush lasted long enough to get me home, but as soon as I put my groceries away, I collapsed on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” I chanted, rocking back and forth. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. Maybe Helena was right and I really did need a shrink.

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Until this evening, I’d never shared any aspect of my personal life with anyone.

Now I’d told half the damn town that I knew about Hugh’s affairs. Well, if nothing else came of it, maybe they’d stop looking at me as the poor, deluded little woman who didn’t have a clue what her husband was up to.

The image of a volcano popped into my mind, one with small steam vents on its side to release the pressure, and a shaky laugh tore its way from my throat, the first honest amusement I’d felt in years. That volcano was exactly what I felt like. It was so wonderful, so freeing, to finally turn loose and say exactly what I was thinking. And while I normally wasn’t a hurtful person, if anyone had deserved it, it was Gretchen with her holier-than-thou attitude.