Page 101 of A River of Crows

“You know what? You’re right.” Sloan retrieved a pair of scissors from the kitchen to cut open the box. “We haven’t put up a tree together in twenty years. I’d say we waited long enough.”

Ridge brought down the box of ornaments, and Sloan pieced together the tree as Randy Travis sang in the background.

“This feels like something Dad would do,” Sloan said, stepping back to admire their work. “Christmas in July.”

“I thought the same.” Ridge straightened the crooked star on top of the tree. “He was always an outside-of-the-box kind of thinker. Remember those weird questions he’d ask?”

Sloan grinned. “Do you think leprechauns are related to gnomes?”

“Or how about, is cereal soup?” Ridge added.

“Oh!” Sloan slapped his shoulder. “If peanut butter wasn’t called peanut butter, what would it be called?”

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Ridge collapsed on the carpet. “I remember we used to lie under here and look up at the lights.” His words were slightly slurred. He scooted under the tree and laughed. “Come on; it’s even cooler when you’re drunk.”

“Isn’t everything?” Sloan lay beside him and had to admit it was still pretty magical to stare at the twinkling lights through the branches.

“Merry Christmas,” Ridge said, taking her hand.

“Merry Christmas.” Sloan squeezed his hand, then laughed. “What’s mom going to think when she wakes up to this?”

Ridge pushed himself up. “Speaking of, I better get back to the RV. It’s late.”

“You can’t walk all the way out there this late. You’re drunk.”

“And you’re not? I’ll get some coffee on.”

“Don’t bother.” Sloan sat up too quickly and saw twinkling lights all around the living room. “Just sleep in our old room. Lock the door. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

“And how am I supposed to get out in the morning?” Ridge asked.

Sloan grinned. “The same way I snuck out to meet Noah for five years—through the window.”

“Alright. I am pretty beat.” He rose to his feet and stumbled forward a few steps. “Night, Lo.”

Sloan stood up. “Hey! You almost forgot something.” She tossed Blue at his stomach. Ridge caught the stuffed animal and smiled—the same little boy smile she remembered.

Sloan realized she could have asked her brother anything she wanted tonight, and the alcohol would have loosened his tongue enough to answer. But she didn’t care. Her heart was full for the first time in forever. Maybe remembering was more important than knowing.

Chapter 29

Mallowater, TX, 1989

Attending Jay’s trial became Caroline’s favorite pastime. She enjoyed the smell of the treated wood in the courtroom, the clack of the prosecuting attorney’s shoes across the polished floor, and the way Jay squirmed in that uncomfortable seat every time he saw Caroline.

She would never forget the look on his face when she walked in the first day. She shoved the swinging doors open and clicked her heels loud enough that everyone, including Jay, noted her entrance.

The proceedings had not begun, but Jay was already seated with a young public defender to his right.

When Jay saw her, his entire face softened, his eyes glistening with tears. He rose to his feet and pulled in an expansive breath. She saw the hope in his expression as she approached. What did he expect her to do? Kiss him in front of his wife? He was so pathetic.

Caroline stopped in the middle of the courtroom, locking her gaze with Jay’s. She pressed her lips into a thin line, making sure her face remained emotionless. Then she pivoted and sat behind the prosecutor. A front-row seat to Jay’s destruction. What more could any woman scorned ask for?

She faced the front of the courtroom but glanced at Jay in her peripheral. His entire face had fallen, like a boy who had just watched Santa Claus skip his house. It took all the composure Caroline had to keep herself from smiling.

Caroline never testified against him, even though the District Attorney had discussed it with her. In the end, he didn’t feel it necessary. Jay’s attorney wasn’t denying the murder per se; the only question was whether PTSD would work as an insanity defense. Caroline’s witnessing of past episodes would only help Jay’s case.

Caroline sometimes wished she would have lied to the police like she had to Libby and told them Jay was abusive. She had no idea that defendants had been acquitted using PTSD as a defense until Jay’s lawyer cited two cases from other states. The D.A. assured her just as many had been convicted when trying this new defense and that the media storm around Jay’s lifestyle would make the jury less sympathetic. Not to mention, this was only the second case this public defender had tried, and it showed.