Page 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Gray stayed with Meredith until her first patient arrived. And when he walked into the police station, he was greeted by two of his officers, Donovan and Brick.

“Told ya,” Brick said to Donovan.

Donovan grinned. “Is it too soon to say welcome to the family, boss?”

“Your wedding is still a few months away,” Gray said. “Still plenty of time for Cassie to come to her senses.”

“Are you kidding? I’m in, man. Got the approval of Granny Quinn. There’s no stopping me.”

Brick gave Donovan a fist bump.

“Don’t you two have work to do?” Gray walked to his office. Donovan and Brick fell in behind him.

“Nope. We’ve scared all the criminals out of town.” Brick buffed his nails on his uniform.

“Yeah,” Donovan scoffed. “Sent ’em straight to Neeson.”

Brick groaned. “Sad but true.”

Gray turned to his men. “Do you really have a quiet morning?”

“We could set up a speed trap?” Brick rubbed the back of his neck. “Or walk around town and be a comforting presence to our citizens?”

“Or”—Gray pointed to the whiteboard in his office—“you could help me brainstorm a few things.”

Both men nodded enthusiastically.

“Get some coffee and your laptops. Give me fifteen minutes to check my inbox.”

They left and Gray blew through his email in record time. Something had been niggling at the back of his brain for a few days now. Maybe if he talked it out, he could pull it to the surface.

Donovan was, like him, a transplant to Gossamer Falls. Brick Nolan was another animal altogether. He was a born-and-bred native, proud of his Appalachian heritage, proud of his state, and proud of the fact that he had no chill whatsoever when it came to March Madness.

Brick had proven to be an invaluable resource. He, much like Cal, knew everyone in town and in most of the towns around Gossamer Falls. He also had a mother who was known as the worst gossip in four counties.

Granny Quinn told Gray early on not to say anything to Brick’s mama that he didn’t want the whole town to know in less than forty-eight hours. Gray had been convinced it was an exaggeration, but Brick had confirmed it.

Donovan and Brick had completely different styles but had meshed well together. Gray hoped their unique perspectives would help him see what he was missing.

When they returned, he had the whiteboard pulled front and center. He’d written Meredith in the middle of the board.

“Um, boss, not trying to tell you how to do your job or anything, but if you have to write her name on a whiteboard, you might need to seek professional help.” Brick slid into the chair closest to the door.

“Nah, man, you got that all wrong,” Donovan added, “he was practicing his spelling.”

He ducked and the marker Gray had thrown at him went sailing past. It hit the wall and left a small green streak.

“You’d better not let Meredith see that you’ve defaced her pretty walls. She’ll be back in here with a paintbrush.” Donovan set his coffee down, retrieved the marker, and eyed the mark. “Yo, Glenda?”

“Yeah?” Glenda called back from her desk.

“You got one of those eraser things? Chief’s marked up the wall.”

Her laughter filtered down the hall. “Hang on.”

A minute later, Glenda had produced the requested item. Gray restored the wall to its previous pristine state, and they were finally able to return to work.

“I want to brainstorm who is after Meredith and why. Mostly why.” Gray tapped the pen on the board.

An hour later, the board looked like a toddler had attacked it. There were lines, circles, squares, a few triangles, and a lot of random question marks.

There were, however, no definitive answers.

“Meredith Quinn is a saint. She makes children like going to the dentist. I’m sorry, but no one likes to go to the dentist.” Brick stared into a coffee cup, his second of the hour, and took a sip. “I don’t like going either, but I go twice a year because Meredith makes it okay. Also because I’ve known her forever and she will hunt me down if I don’t show up.”

“Brick’s right, Chief. As Papa Quinn would say, ‘You picked a good ’un.’”

Gray wasn’t going to tell him that Meredith had picked him and that he had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“But,” Donovan continued, “it’s obvious someone wants her. Based on what you told us about her sneaky activities in pursuit of sainthood, I’d say it’s either that someone wants that girl Meredith helped out of the arranged marriage or they want to scare her so bad she’ll stop going to Neeson.”

“You don’t think they want to kill her?” Brick asked the question before Gray could. “Because that whole thing where they nearly ran her and Bronwyn down sure seemed like they wanted her dead.”

“Too random. Too sloppy. Too likely not to work. They got lucky that they managed to catch them alone and in a place where they could do that. Plus, I’m not convinced Meredith was the target. I think Bronwyn has more to worry about when it comes to people who want her dead.”

“I want to come back to the Bronwyn situation,” Brick said, “but finish telling us why you’re leaning toward them wanting to grab her more than kill her.” Gray agreed, but he wanted to see if their reasoning was the same.

“The fuel line, the bug, the tracking, that’s the thing you do if you either want to catch someone talking about something, or you want to snatch them. And, I hate to be blunt like this, Chief, but if they really wanted her dead, they could have done it before now. You didn’t lock her down until the last few weeks. She’s been rambling all over the mountains for years.”

Donovan nodded. “I agree.”

“Is the girl from the arranged marriage safe? Has anyone checked lately?”

Gray had intentionally left her name off the board, but he’d shared it with the men. Even so, he appreciated that they weren’t using the name out loud now. “Mo knows how to find her. I don’t think he knows where she is.” Not because he couldn’t find her if he wanted to, but because he’d chosen not to. “But he knows the people who helped her. He confirmed her safety a few days ago and sent a warning to her to be on guard.”

“If we knew more about this girl, it might help.” Brick ran his hands over his face. “I hate to say this. I really do. But it might be time for me to bring in the gossip group.”

Gray groaned.

“I can be sly about it. But you know my mother knows all the dirt in a hundred-mile radius.”

“Fine. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but go have lunch with your mother.”

Donovan raised his hand. “Can I go? Please? His mama is a phenomenal cook.”

Gray tossed another marker at Donovan’s head. “You’re marrying a world-class chef!”

“I am aware.” Donovan caught the marker and tossed it back. “And even she says Brick’s mama makes the best chicken fried steak she’s ever put in her mouth. Also the best chow chow.”

“The best what?”

“Chow chow.” Brick nodded sagely. “It’s like a relish. Kind of. You can put it on anything. Mama cans it and gives it away. You haven’t tried it?”

And that was how Gray found himself at Brick’s childhood home two hours later, pulled up to the table as Lorraine Nolan showed him a small glass jar. “This is chow chow. You take this one on home with you later. We’ll have some with our meal.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When Brick called, she’d told him she had a pot of beans on, and they could come over for beans, country ham, and cornbread.

Mrs. Nolan sliced a tomato and some onion but mourned how awful the tomato would be because “you just can’t get a fit tomato in February” and then set the food out for them to dig in.

Gray watched as Brick, Donovan, and Mr. Nolan, who had made it a point to come home at lunch when he heard she was “fixing a spread,” filled their plates, and he copied them precisely.

His first bite was tentative, but the chow chow turned out to be unbelievably good on the beans. And by the third bite, he understood why Brick and Donovan had been so excited.

“This is delicious, Mrs. Nolan.” He took a sip of tea so sweet he could almost stand a spoon in it.

“Thank you, young man. I’m so glad you like it.”

“Bet you didn’t eat like this growing up, did ya, son?” Mr. Nolan asked.

“No, sir. Not like this.”

The conversation was easy, and Mr. and Mrs. Nolan were gentle and sarcastic to each other in turns.

Gray intended to let Brick lead this dance, and he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t start with the main question. “Mama, you got anything we need to know about?”

His dad snorted. “I told you they wanted something.”

Mrs. Nolan gave Brick a look that could strip paint. “What on earth do you think I know, young man?”

“Now, Mama, we all know you know everything. You can’t deny it.”

She pinched her lips together. “I know you’ll not be getting any blackberry cobbler.” She pointed her fork at all three officers. “Not a one of you. You’ll watch him”—she pointed at Mr. Nolan—“eat it and you’ll weep for being scoundrels.”

“We’re the good guys, Mrs. Nolan.” Donovan clasped his hands together. “Please don’t banish me from your kitchen.”

“Mama, you’re gonna get me in trouble with the chief,” Brick implored, and Gray kicked him under the table.

But Mrs. Nolan wasn’t having it. “Your chief should know better.”

“Mama, we were talking about how good your cooking is. We mentioned your chow chow, and one thing led to another. That’s why we’re here.”

“Mm-hmm.” She was miffed.

“Can you blame us for trying to see what’s going on? While we’re here, we might as well catch up.”

That seemed to appease her. Slightly. “I know word has gone out that if you get caught with your honey at Gossamer Falls, the chief won’t rat you out. But he will run you off.”

Gray hid his smile in another sip of tea.

“And I know you”—she pointed a piece of cornbread at Gray—“are sparking Meredith Quinn. And it’s about time too. What took you so long?”

Gray had never heard the term “sparking,” but he figured it out in context. Given the way she was looking at him, he decided the question hadn’t been rhetorical. “I’m an idiot, ma’am, but I’ve come to my senses.”

“Glad to hear it. She’s an angel.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Although, I heard tell that she’s caused some stir in Neeson. You might want to tell her to take it easy up there.”

Gray tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’ll do that, ma’am. Is there anything specific?”

“Oh, I’ll say there is. My cousin’s second ex-wife is from Neeson. We talk. Dena said there’s a rumor that old Johnstone’s got himself a couple of kids that nobody knew about.” She nodded grimly. “He’s been married to the same woman for going on forty years, but rumor is there’s at least two kids in town who look an awful lot like him, even though they’re no relation. Or they aren’t supposed to be.”

“How old are these kids?” Brick asked.

“One’s not more than five, but Dena says her mama says he looks just like Marvin Johnstone did as a kid. Same eyes. Same hair. There’s a teenager, and then there’s that girl that run off. She didn’t look like him a bit. Spitting image of her mama. Not even sure if Johnstone knew about it for a long time.”

Gray forced himself to take a bite. The food was delicious, but his gut was churning.

Mrs. Nolan buttered a piece of cornbread and kept talking. “The rumor is that the girl didn’t know but found out somehow and that’s when she disappeared. You’d think her mama’d be worried about her, but she isn’t. Of course, the other rumor is that she ran off with some guy twenty years older than her. That one might have more truth to it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Now, Chief, you know Johnstone wouldn’t have let her go. He won’t let his other kids go either. Not if he knows they’re his. I hear the ones he knows about, he helps take care of them. Not in person, of course, but he gives the mamas money.”

“Why would he take care of them?” Donovan asked. “I mean, if they don’t know?”

“Just ’cause they don’t know doesn’t mean everybody else don’t know.” Mr. Nolan shook his head. “It’s not right. He doesn’t acknowledge them, but at least he doesn’t leave ’em to starve either. ’Bout the only good thing I can say about the man, and that’s precious little.”

“He can’t very well claim them without ruining his reputation.” Mrs. Nolan’s mouth was pinched into a line so thin you couldn’t see her lips anymore.

“That’s rich.” Brick took a big bite of his beans. “Everybody knows he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah, but they pretend they don’t. Dena says he goes to church. Gives big to the building fund and missions. Has coffee with Kirby once a week.”

“And runs drugs the rest of the time.” Donovan set his fork down. “Do you think he would have hurt this girl? The one who ran off? If she found out he was her dad and was disgusted by him?”

“I don’t rightly know. She was a pretty little thing. And such a pretty name. What was it?”

Gray tensed.

Mrs. Nolan snapped her fingers. “Amara. That’s it. Isn’t that pretty? And so unusual.”

Gray shared a look with Donovan and Brick, and he saw the same realization in their eyes that he knew was in his.

Meredith had helped Marvin Johnstone’s illegitimate daughter escape him.

And somehow, Johnstone knew.