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“Sheila told me this morning. But how did you know?”
“Susan told me last night at the funeral home.”
“See, she told you because she knows she’s going to need you. She’s going to need all of us to get through these next few months. Knowing you, I figured you’d think you owed it to Lowell to see his killer brought to justice and to take care of his wife and child.”
“I owe Lowell my life,” Hank admitted. “But I’m not sure that staying here in Crooked Oak is the right way to repay him.”
The brothers walked together toward Commissioner Kelly, who had been joined by two other county commissioners in a corner of the room that proudly displayed Susan’s old-maid aunt’s antique dining room suite. A feast, brought in by friends and neighbors, covered the mahogany table and desserts of every kind lined the ornately carved buffet. Dalton Kelly sliced off a bite of apple pie with his fork and lifted it to his mouth.
Rufus McGee shook hands with Hank. “Good to see you again, Hank. Just hate that it’s under these circumstances.”
After washing down the pie with a swig of black coffee, Dalton swiped his mouth with his hand, then said, “Has Caleb told you what we want to ask of you?”
“Yes, he just mentioned it,” Hank said.
“And what do you think, boy?” Rufus narrowed his eyes, staring directly at Hank. “Are you willing to take a little time off from the FBI to come home and settle things for Lowell? We’d be mighty grateful if you would.”
“Why me?” Hank asked. “I’d think y’all would be talking to Richard Holman about the job. I know Lowell trusted Deputy Holman completely and felt he was the best man he had working for him.”
“Richard’s young and doesn’t have enough experience,” Dalton said. “Besides, it’d only be for a year, just until next year’s election. You could give up a year for Lowell, couldn’t you?”
“The whole town is expecting you to come home,” Rufus said. “They’re sure you’ll want to be the one to capture Carl Bates and bring him to justice. And they’re expecting you to take care of Susan for Lowell. We know her delicate condition is suppose to be a secret, but well—” Rufus grinned “—Lowell’s chest was so swelled with pride the day they found out about the baby, he was popping buttons off his shirt. He told a few friends, and you know how word spreads around these parts.”
Hank’s stomach knotted painfully. He’d been on assignment when word reached him of Lowell’s death. When he’d checked his answering machine on a quick stop at his Alexandria apartment, he’d heard Lowell’s happy voice asking him to call him as soon as possible. No doubt Lowell had wanted to tell him about the baby.
“I’ll need some time,” Hank said. “I’ll have to go back to Washington and...I’m not sure this is the right thing to do, but—”
“It is, my boy. It is,” Dalton assured him. “Just think about what Lowell would have done if you’d been murdered in the line of duty, leaving behind your killer on the loose and a pregnant wife who needed somebody to lean on. Wouldn’t he have done everything he could have for you? He’d have put your killer behind bars. And he’d have taken care of your wife and baby.”
Hell! He was caught dead to right. The whole town knew that not only were he and Lowell best friends, but that he owed Lowell his life. When they’d been teenagers—he thirteen and Lowell fourteen—they’d gone swimming at the old abandoned rock quarry, as they had so often that summer. But he had gotten a severe cramp and would have drowned if it hadn’t been for Lowell’s quick action. The event had sealed their friendship for life, and to this day, Hank felt he owed his life to his friend.
He’d do anything for Lowell. Even now. The way he saw it, he really didn’t have any choice but to put his career on hold and return to Crooked Oak. Was a year of his life too much of a sacrifice to come home and settle his best friend’s affairs? No, of course it wasn’t. If only those affairs didn’t include Lowell’s pregnant wife!
Once this crowd cleared out, he’d have to talk to Susan—alone. Lowell’s death had placed them in an awkward situation and the last thing he wanted was to complicate his life or cause Susan any unnecessary pain.
Susan sat on the bed in the quiet, semidark bedroom that she had shared with Lowell the past two years. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to sleep in this room again, not unless she completely renovated it and bought all new furniture. Everything in the large, airy room reminded her of her husband. The smell of his spicy cologne still lingered on the bed linen. His clothes filled the left side of the closet. Their wedding photograph sat like a sentinel on the nightstand.
If only she could cry. Dear Lord in heaven, she silently pleaded, let me cry. But she was beyond crying, the pain too severe, yet tempered by the blessed numbness that cocooned her.
A shudder racked her body. Ricky gazed up at her with his big, black Boston terrier eyes, as if questioning her. She scratched his ears and whispered, “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”
Seeing that his mistress was paying attention to Ricky, Fred waddled across the room, hopped up onto the bed and parked his fat little bulldog body alongside Ricky. “Oh, so you’re jealous, huh?” Susan rubbed the other dog’s ears, then heard a soft, subtle purring. Resting at the foot of the bed, Lucy, a red tabby, and Ethel, a white longhair, mewed for their share of attention.
A sigh of relief escaped Susan’s lips. Relief that something remained normal and unchanged in her life. Her animals were now, as they had been all her life, a source of companionship and comfort. She loved animals and they her. She supposed that was another legacy from Aunt Alice—the old-maid great-aunt who had taken her in and raised her after her mother’s death. She’d been six when she’d come to live with Aunt Alice in this big, old Victorian house filled with priceless antiques, several spoiled cats and one feisty Boston terrier pup, Ricky’s grandmother. Susan had grown up around animals, so her job at the animal shelter was a natural career choice.
In the darkest, loneliest hours of her life, her animals were at her side. Loving her. Supporting her. Comforting her. She lifted both dogs onto her lap and hugged them tenderly. A lone tear escaped from her eye and trickled down her cheek. Then another followed. Her lungs swelled. Her chest ached. She gasped for air. Her shoulders trembled. And then the tears began in earnest. Filling her eyes. Flooding her face. Moistening her chin and neck.
Susan didn’t know how long she cried, whether it was minutes or hours. No one invaded her privacy, not even when she cried aloud as sobs racked her body.
She knew that Tallie and Sheila and Donna were taking turns guarding her bedroom door against all intruders. She was a lucky woman to have such good friends. She and Tallie and Sheila had been best buddies since childhood and then Donna had joined their inner circle several years ago.
Susan lifted her head from her hands when she heard a soft rapping on the door. “Yes?”
“It’s us,” Sheila said. “Tallie and Donna and me. May we come in?”
“Of course.” Susan wiped the moisture from her face and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Her three best friends entered the room and quickly made a semicircle around her. She offered them a tremulous smile.
“Just about everybody’s gone,” Tallie said.
“Hank and Caleb and Peyton are still here, of course,” Sheila said.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you tonight?” Tallie asked.
“No, really. I’ll be all right.” She glanced back at the big bed on which she sat. “I won’t sleep in here. I slept upstairs last night, in Aunt Alice’s old room. Being in her room comforted me. It made me feel close to her.”
“I’d like to stay.” Donna sat down beside Susan. “I can run home and pack a few things and stay with you for as long as you need me. Believe me, I know how difficult these next few months are going to be for you.”
Susan grabbed Donna’s hand and squeezed tightly. “I know you understand better than anyone. But—”
“I insist. Unlike Sheila and Tallie, I don’t have a husband and children at home.”
“Thank you.” Susan nodded. “It would be nice to have someone here for a few days. Just until—” Susan choked on the tears in her throat. “Just until I—” The dam burst again, releasing a torrent of tears.
Donna took Susan in her arms, stroking and comforting, while Sheila and Tallie hovered nearby. The three women tried valiantly not to cry, but within minutes they, too, were weeping.
“I’ll stay until you get back,” Hank told Donna Fields.
“Thanks. I really don’t think she should be alone.” Donna patted Hank on the shoulder. “She’s going to need all of her friends and Lowell’s friends to see her through this.”
Hank opened the door to Donna’s Corvette and waited until she backed out of the driveway before he returned inside the house. Before they left, his sister and sister-in-law had cleared away the tables, packed the food in the refrigerator and freezer, loaded the dishwasher and vacuumed the floors.
A hushed stillness enveloped the house, a big ginger-bread-trimmed Victorian that had been built outside of town more than ninety years ago by Susan’s great-grandparents. Their youngest daughter, Alice Williams, had inherited the place, and Miss Alice, as everyone in Crooked Oak had called her, had become the local eccentric. The old-maid schoolteacher with a hundred cats.
But actually, there had been only five cats, and Miss Alice, though a unique personality, hadn’t been wealthy enough to qualify for eccentric status. He had liked and admired Miss Alice, and because he’d been an excellent student, she had taken a special interest in him. She had been the first teacher who’d made him realize that he was intelligent and that by using that intelligence, he could escape the poverty of his life in Crooked Oak, Tennessee.
“Would you care for some coffee?” Susan asked.
Hank turned abruptly to face her. He hadn’t realized she was standing there, in the hallway. He’d thought she was still barricaded in her bedroom.
“No, thanks,” he replied.
“What about some tea? I’m going to fix myself some herbal tea.”
“I don’t like hot tea.”
“Oh. All right then.”
Damn! He suddenly realized that Susan felt as awkward as he did. The two of them alone here in her house. The house she had shared with Lowell for two years.
But they had to face facts. Lowell was dead. God, how that admission hurt him. He could not imagine a world without Lowell Redman. But no matter how much they wanted things to be different—and they both did—neither of them could undo what had happened. Not what had happened two days ago when Lowell had been ambushed by Carl Bates. And not what had happened in a doctor’s office four weeks ago when Susan had been artificially inseminated.
“We need to talk,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen.
“Yes, I suppose we do.” She filled the teakettle with water and placed it on the stove.
“I’ve been asked to take over Lowell’s job until next year’s election.”
Biting her bottom lip, Susan removed a china teacup and saucer from the cupboard, then opened a canister and retrieved a tea bag. “Are you going to accept the offer?” Her hand quivered ever so slightly as she placed the tea bag in the cup.
“Yes.” Why wouldn’t she turn around and face him? Would it be that big a problem for her to have him back in Crooked Oak for the next year? “I think I owe it to Lowell to bring in Carl Bates and see that he goes to trial. And I think Lowell would want me around to look after you while you’re pregnant.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. The teakettle whistled. As she lifted the china cup and saucer from the table, her shoulders shook and her hand trembled. The cup and saucer crashed onto the hardwood floor.
“Susan?” Hank rushed over to her, stopping her as she knelt to pick up the pieces of broken china. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
She hummed with sorrow, crying in a low, mournful chant. God in heaven, what was he supposed to do? He wanted to touch her, but did he dare? He had to take her in his arms. He had to! She was falling apart right in front of him.
The moment he touched her, surrounding her slender body with his, taking her into his arms, Susan melted against him. Every nerve in his body screamed.
“It’s all right, Susie Q,” he told her, using the nickname he’d given her when she’d been a kid. “You go ahead and get it all out. I’ll be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She clung to him. Sobbing. Trembling. Moaning. He held her as gently as he could, all his protective instincts on high and putting him on edge.
She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll be all right.” She stepped out of his embrace and took a wobbly step backward. When he reached out to steady her, she moved uneasily away.
“I realize that you want to do what you can to bring Lowell’s killer to justice...” She paused, took a deep breath and then continued. “If you move back to Crooked Oak—”
“When I move back to Crooked Oak,” he corrected her.
“Yes. When you move back, I’m sure we’ll see each other from time to time during the next year. That can’t be avoided. People will expect us to...to...”
“To be friendly toward each other.”
“Yes. And I want that. I want us to be friends. Lowell would have wanted us to be... If I need you, I’ll call you. But I have friends who’ll be here for me and, most importantly, I have my baby. Having my child to think about will see me through the rough times.”
“My child.” Hank had said the words without thinking, his voice a strained whisper.
“No!” she protested. “This baby is Lowell’s child.”
“I realize you think of the child as Lowell’s, but we both know that I fathered your baby.” Hank laid his hand over her flat belly.
She froze on the spot. “The agreement was for you to donate your sperm because Lowell didn’t want a stranger to father our child.” Susan snatched Hank’s hand off her stomach. “Lowell trusted you to keep our secret, to let this baby be his completely.”
“And if Lowell had lived, I would have adhered to the terms of that agreement. But Lowell is dead. He can’t be a father to your baby.”
“Yes, he...Lowell is...” Tears streamed down her face.
Hank grasped her shoulders. “The child you’re carrying is mine. And whether you like it or not, now that Lowell is dead, it’s my responsibility to take care of you!”
Two
Lowell had been dead ten days. Ten of the worst days of her life. All their plans for the future had died with him—the happy family life that they had envisioned when their baby was born. But Lowell would never see their child—the child he had so desperately wanted. A child that he had known she wanted more than anything on earth.
When the doctors told them that it was unlikely, if not impossible, that Lowell would ever impregnate her, he had been the one to embrace the idea of artificial insemination. She had been reluctant at the thought of a stranger fathering her child, but she’d become even more reluctant when Lowell had suggested asking Hank Bishop to donate his sperm.
“Hank’s said more than once that he’s not the marrying kind,” Lowell had told her. “He doesn’t want a wife and kids.”
“What makes you think Hank would agree to—to donate his sperm so that we can have a baby?”
“Because Hank thinks he owes me for saving his life when we were kids. Besides, he’s the only man I know I’d want to be the biological father of our child. Hank’s smart, a real man’s man and the best friend I’ve ever had.”
At first she had refused to even consider Hank as the donor, but eventually Lowell had worn down her resistance. Lowell and your own foolish girlhood dreams! an inner voice taunted.
“Need any help in here, Mrs. Redman?” Deputy Nancy Steele asked as she poked her head inside the door.
“No, thanks, Nancy. I’ve got just about everything packed away.”
“Well, when you’re ready to put the boxes in your van, let me know and some of us will take them out for you.”
“All right. Thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
“Oh, Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to leave a message for Hank Bishop.”
“Certainly. We’re expecting him sometime this afternoon,” Nancy replied. “Do you want to leave a written message or a—”
“Verbal. Please tell Hank that I wish him well and that I appreciate—” Susan’s voice cracked. She appreciated what? That he was going to be in Crooked Oak for the next year? That he had promised her quite vehemently that he was going to be around to look after her and the baby? His baby! He’d let her know in no uncertain terms that, with Lowell dead, he intended to take over Lowell’s responsibilities for her and the child.
“I understand, Mrs. Redman.” Nancy looked at Susan with pity in her eyes. “But I’m sure Mr. Bishop...er, Sheriff Bishop will be stopping by your house to check on you.”
Dear God, that’s what I’m afraid of, Susan thought. No one knows that this child I’m carrying isn’t Lowell’s biological child—no one except the doctors in Nashville, Hank Bishop and Sheila. Would the townspeople believe Hank’s attention to her was nothing more than a good friend looking out for his buddy’s widow?
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. After all, Hank was Lowell’s oldest and dearest friend. It would be only natural that he’d keep an eye on me, especially...”
“We’re all so sorry about Lowell. He was the best man I ever knew. But you have his child and that should be a comfort to you.”
“Yes, it is.” Susan almost choked on the lie. But this isn’t Lowell’s baby, she wanted to scream. Don’t you see, that’s the problem?
“I’ll go so you can finish up in here. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” Nancy exited the office and closed the door behind her.
Susan sat in Lowell’s big, swivel desk chair and glanced around his office. No, not Lowell’s office any longer. Not after today. Appointed by the governor, Hank Bishop would be sworn in as the new Marshall County sheriff tomorrow morning.
