Reasonable Doubt Page 2

  “Justin!” Hidden by the trees surrounding the creek, they heard Justin’s aunt calling from the cabin. “Where are you? It’s time to go.”

  Justin’s hand tightened around hers, and Keri rested her head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around her, drawing her close. It was the first time he’d done that, and Keri felt her heart pound at the grown-up gesture.

  Rather than feeling awkward, it felt right, as though she belonged in his embrace. She’d always thought they’d marry some day. Only now…now he was going away.

  “Promise you won’t forget Jesus,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Keri’s heart sank. For once, why couldn’t he talk about something personal? Confess undying love. Kiss her. She loved Jesus, too, but there was a time and a place.

  “Justin Michael Kramer, get up here this instant or you’re going to be in big trouble, young man!”

  Reluctance clouded his eyes and he pulled away. “I guess I better go before she explodes a vein.”

  A sense of panic swelled inside Keri. She grabbed at his black T-shirt. “Kiss me goodbye, Justin.” His startled gaze met hers just before she closed her eyes and lifted her chin.

  Feather-soft lips brushed across hers. Never had Keri experienced the feelings springing to life in her heart in that moment. Justin, her friend, her hero and now the first boy ever to kiss her. It seemed right.

  Only his aunt interrupted the beautiful moment. “Justin!”

  He pulled away and jumped to his feet. A long silent stare followed, then he sprinted toward the edge of the woods.

  “I love you,” Keri called after him. “I won’t forget you, I promise.”

  He turned. “I’ll be back,” he promised before disappearing into the trees.

  “I’ll wait,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you.”

  The squeal of tires accosted Keri’s attention and she jerked around. A blur of red shot past the parking lot, weaving down the road. Horns blared as the pickup narrowly missed a black sedan and a blue hatchback.

  “Gotta go, Rave.”

  “What do you mean you have to—”

  Making a grab for the strobe light, Keri punched off the phone and switched on her siren. Junior Connor—already drunk at 7:00 p.m.—was headed for the bar, which meant he’d brought along his own booze. Mentally, she racked up the charges, from DUI to open container, to manslaughter if she didn’t get to him before he got to that group of teens hanging out on the corner.

  Anger boiled her blood as she slammed the SUV into gear and burned out after the pickup. She wasn’t about to sit by and let that lush take out someone’s kid. Not on her watch.

  Red digital numbers glared; it was just past midnight. Punching his pillow, Justin let out a half growl as he replayed today’s interrogation over and over in his head. He was sick of being called in for questioning by those goons, sick of not knowing who had killed Amelia, and even more sick of being the only suspect the police seemed to have.

  Helplessness sliced at his gut like a dagger. So far, he’d sat back and done pretty much nothing while the detectives worked to find anything to pin Amelia’s murder on his shoulders. He was a sitting duck, just waiting to be arrested for a murder he didn’t commit.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, he flopped over. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he stared toward the ceiling. He needed a vacation. A long, peaceful vacation somewhere away from the media attention, away from the stress of the city and wondering each morning if this might be the day when his worst nightmare became a reality. He closed his eyes, and his mind conjured the image of the only vacation spot he’d ever known.

  Until his parents’ deaths, he’d spent time every summer at the Mahoney cabin on Lake Bennett. He could almost smell the crisp clean lake, could almost see the sun reflecting off wind-rippled water. A flash of freckles on cheeks just below enormous green eyes joined the nostalgic images. His girl. His lips curved upward as he finally succumbed to his fatigue and drifted to sleep.

  Justin awoke slowly, battling the fading images of a sweet, sweet dream, one he didn’t want to forget. He fought to remember a face surrounded by riotous red curls, and pea-green eyes invaded his consciousness.

  “Keri,” he whispered into the still-darkened room. He sat up.

  Determination sent a jolt through his stomach. He was going to do it! Take the boys on a vacation like the ones he’d enjoyed growing up. The Mahoney cabin at Lake Bennett. The twins would love the lake. Too bad it wasn’t summertime. Trout fishing and cutoff shorts were out of the question this time of year, but even in winter, a couple of nine-year-old boys would find plenty to pique their interest.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of the boys spending Thanksgiving in the house where their mother had been murdered. Josh’s outbursts and nightmares were getting worse. The kid definitely needed a little time away. By this time next year, he hoped, they would be able to put the house on the market and begin the process of putting all of this behind them. He prayed so.

  Justin raked his fingers through hair that could have used a pair of scissors three weeks ago. The police had never told him he was under any kind of restriction to stay in Kansas City. He supposed it was implied, possibly understood. But certainly not mandated.

  At a sudden ping, ping against the window, he pushed back the covers, swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked across the freezing wooden floor.

  His gut clenched as he recognized the falling ice. If he waited much longer, the curvy roads between here and the cabin might not be drivable. On a good day, it was a two-hour drive. If this weather didn’t let up, he was looking at three, four, maybe five hours.

  The red digital numbers on the bedside clock glowed 4:30 a.m. Too early to call Mr. Mahoney and ask about using the cabin. He’d try to find a number to call once he was on the road. If he couldn’t rent the Mahoney cabin, there were several others on the lake, a couple of them rentals, as he recalled. Grabbing a suitcase from the closet, he slung it on the bed and started packing.

  Fifteen years. That’s how long he’d been away. He couldn’t help but remember that last day sitting with Keri on the bank overlooking the lake. He smiled at the memory of her sweet kiss. A first for them both.

  Was she still in Briarwood? He didn’t count on seeing her, not in this weather and considering the cabin was at least an hour’s drive away from the small town where he’d spent the first fourteen years of his life. Still, the memories were sweet, and he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had panned out. Better than his, he hoped.

  The twins mumbled their displeasure when he woke them a few moments later.

  “Where’re we going, Dad?” Billy asked with a yawn.

  “You’ll find out.” He settled the boys at the kitchen table. Made them toast, then snatched a leftover ham from the fridge. Just as he started to slice through the meat to make sandwiches for the road, a thud caught his attention, he turned and felt the pain in his finger as the blade nicked the tender flesh of his thumb.

  He winced. “What happened?”

  “Billy fell out of his chair.”

  “You all right, Billy?”

  The child sat up on the floor, sleepy-eyed but nodding. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re bleeding, Dad.” Josh’s voice rang with tension.

  Justin glanced at his throbbing finger. Blood dripped onto the floor. He turned quickly to the sink and ran his finger under the water, grateful it wasn’t a deep cut. He grabbed a bandage and covered the wound.

  When he turned back around, Josh had wiped up the blood from the floor. However, the boy’s face had also lost all color and he sat holding the rag in his hand.

  “Here, give me that, son.”

  Josh relinquished the cloth and turned away.

  With a sigh, Justin ruffled his head. “You two get some movies and toys. Only what will fit in your schoolbags.”

  He watched them, Billy scrambling with his usual fervor, Josh slinking away as though he couldn’t
care less.

  A wave of helplessness washed over Justin. Nothing seemed to help Josh cope with the events of the past months. Counseling hadn’t helped. Not so far, anyway. Church wasn’t restoring the child’s soul. Yet he believed God was faithful. He had built a life and ministry on that belief. Once he’d returned to God, he would have built his marriage on the same belief if Amelia had been open. But religion was never her thing, as she reminded him every time he tried to talk to her about God.

  If only she’d listened. Maybe she’d still be alive.

  Chapter Two

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Junior. No one made you crawl behind that wheel and drive drunk.” The barred door clanged shut with the same finality that rang in Deputy Keri Mahoney’s voice. “You’re in jail because you deserve it, so stop whining.”

  “You just ain’t got no compassion in your soul.” Hours after his arrest for drunk driving, Junior Connor’s words were still slurred, doing little to strengthen his case with Keri. “But I don’t guess I should expect no more from a power-hungry female, doin’ a man’s job.”

  Keri ignored the familiar comment. She was accustomed to the fact that most of the men in Briarwood, Missouri, hadn’t progressed past 1950 in terms of male/female relationships. But that wasn’t Junior’s only problem. He was a drunk. Keri had no tolerance for drunks, thugs or idiots who ran red lights through school zones. Junior embodied all three.

  “Drinking and driving kills people. You remember my mama, don’t you?”

  “Sure, I remember her. Fine woman.” He snorted. “Too bad you ain’t got none of her qualities.”

  Keri stomped back across the lemony-clean concrete floor and glared at him through the bars. He’d already made it to his bunk and his eyelids were half shut, so she knew she was more than likely wasting her breath, but the words hissed from between her clenched teeth like steam from a kettle. “Maybe I’d have gotten some of her qualities if a low-life drunk like you hadn’t killed her before she had the chance to teach me.”

  He opened one eye and shot up straight from his cot. “You know good and well I ain’t never killed no one. Ain’t even all that drunk, if you wanna know the truth of it.” He pointed his gnarly finger. “You didn’t have no call to go arresting me in the first place. I got half a mind to sue the department.”

  Disgusted, Keri didn’t trust herself to answer. If Junior didn’t shut up pretty soon, she might have to accidentally toss the key to his cell out the window.

  “You hear me, girl? I’ll sue you and this whole department. I’ll own the town before it’s all over.”

  “Go ahead and sue, if you can get your lawyer to return your phone calls.” She spun around and headed back to the twenty-five-year-old metal desk, where a stack of paperwork and an extra-large pumpkin cappuccino from the local Quick Shop awaited her. If only Junior would go to sleep and give her some peace and quiet, she’d have it all done before her shift ended at 7:00 a.m. Then she had two weeks of vacation coming.

  Dad had suggested—no, downright insisted—she take her two weeks this year, even if he had to sneak out and flatten all four of her tires once they got to the cabin to make sure she stuck to the bargain. He didn’t have to worry about that. For now, she needed solace. Quiet. Time for reflection.

  Given her history of taking working vacations, Keri had to admit her dad was right to be skeptical. But this year things were going to be different. Her resolve was strong. Under no circumstance was she going to stay home where the chief could drag her out of the house with some flimsy excuse again, as he had every year since she’d joined the force.

  With a weary sigh she plopped into her chair and rolled up to the desk. She scowled at the mountain-high stack of papers. As the only full-time deputy in Briarwood for the past ten years, she held a dead-end job in a dead-end town, and as far as Keri could see, looming before her was a dead-end future unless she could somehow convince the all-male city council that she would be a good replacement for Chief Manning when he retired at the end of the year.

  She balled her fist, ready to pound the desk at the unfairness of generations of chauvinism, but then she thought better of it as Junior’s loud snoring sawed through the air. No sense taking a chance on waking him up—not if she intended to get through months of neglected paperwork.

  Just why the town couldn’t dig up the money for a new jail with an up-to-date computer system when they had recently spent ten thousand dollars on park beautification, she couldn’t fathom. Instead the good folks of Briarwood were stuck with an Andy Griffith jail, and she and Chief Manning were the Andy and Barney jokes of the town.

  Keri sipped a frothy taste of her pumpkin cappuccino. She sighed as the sweet spices licked her taste buds and tempted her memory with pictures of holiday mealtimes at the Mahoney house. She could picture them all sitting around the cherrywood dining table: her two sisters, Dad and Mom.

  Holidays never were quite the same after Mom died. Nothing was the same. Keri was finishing up high school, but her older sisters Raven and Denni were already in college by then. She was alone. If only Justin hadn’t moved away, he’d have been there for her during that time, and who knew where her life might have ended up?

  Impatiently, Keri dropped the drink cup into the wastebasket, as if to toss away the memories, but they persisted. And at the thought of her childhood sweetheart, the memory of Raven’s wretched phone call floated through her mind.

  Keri’s gut tightened. Was Justin a murderer?

  The heater fan roared to life, bringing her back to the present and to Junior’s whining.

  “That thing woke me up. If I don’t get enough sleep I’ll get a headache.”

  “Tough. This isn’t a hotel.”

  “I could sue you for violation of my civil rights. And don’t think I ain’t got a good lawyer.”

  “Yeah, a real good lawyer who couldn’t get you out of jail and won’t return your calls,” Keri muttered.

  He didn’t respond right away, and Keri found herself alone with her memories once again. The thought of her Justin harming anyone, let alone committing murder was almost impossible for Keri to fathom, despite her years as a police officer.

  “I need an aspirin. My head’s killing me.”

  “Be quiet, Junior,” she said without looking up. “I’m busy.”

  There had to be a reasonable explanation. Justin wouldn’t kill anyone. Not her Justin. Someone was making a terrible mistake.

  At least that’s what Keri hoped. A desperate hope. She needed to believe him innocent. If the same gentle Justin who had saved her from bullies and brought her flowers and shared her one and only kiss was a wife murderer, she might as well let Junior out of his cell, hand him a bottle of booze and throw him the keys to his truck. Better yet, maybe she should just join him on his next binge. Belly up to the bar, boys. Here’s to the end of all my dreams….

  Tears pushed at her eyes, but she blinked them away, and forced herself to focus on her paperwork. She made it through the end of the stack before Chief Manning walked through the door at 7:00 a.m.

  “Morning, Deputy.”

  “Morning.”

  “I’m sure glad you’re here, Sam,” Junior called from his cell. “That girl ain’t got no heart. I been askin’ for an aspirin for the last hour, and she’s been ignorin’ me. Now I got me a headache the size of the Grand Canyon. I got half a mind to sue you both for prisoner abuse.”

  Chief Manning took the medicine kit down from the wall and chuckled. “Junior, if you sued us for all the things you threaten, you’d be a millionaire.” He grabbed a paper cup, filled it with water from the bathroom faucet, and crossed the room. “Here. Take this and be quiet for a while before you give me a headache.”

  Junior took the aspirin and water through the bars and grumbled all the way back to his bunk.

  Keri bit back a snide remark. The guy had been arrested for disorderly conduct and public drunkenness so many times he was a regular fixture at the jail. This time it was
different, though. He’d nearly hit those kids. As it was, he’d wrapped his truck around a telephone pole.

  The stunned group of teens milling about the accident scene, with shock-white expressions on their faces, had effectively squelched her last remnant of mercy for the likes of Junior Connor.

  Why didn’t drunk drivers ever kill themselves instead of innocent people?

  She slid the last completed file into place, resisting the urge to slap her hands together to dust them off. Two weeks of solitude awaited her, and she had every intention of using the time to reflect, pray and discover exactly what God was trying to show her by sending discontent into her life. She’d tried to escape its iron jaws, but it gripped her unerringly and Keri was powerless to stop the pain. The melancholy persisted no matter how hard she tried, how long she prayed or how many miles she jogged.

  “Keri?”

  “What?” Keri blinked back to reality at the chief’s gruff call.

  “I asked if anything happened tonight.”

  With a sniff, she sent a dismissive wave toward the cell. “No. Just Junior’s whining. Most of the paperwork is finished.”

  “You still plan on spending your vacation at the cabin?”

  “I sure am,” Keri said, defenses on high alert. “This is our first time at the cabin in years. No phones, no faxes and no radio except in the Jeep, so don’t even think about trying to weasel me out of my vacation this year. I need it, Chief. Dad’s already up there. Even Denni and Raven are coming up to the cabin for Thanksgiving Day.”

  He heaved a heavy sigh and lowered himself to the chair with a grunt. “I know you need it, honey. I just have trouble getting along without you.”

  Keri grabbed her coat from the rack behind the desk. “Better tell that to the town council, because if I don’t get your job when you retire, I’m quitting for good. Besides, Abe will do fine filling in for me.” The part-time deputy was just itching to spend a couple of weeks in her place.