Page 102 of The Formation of Us

He gripped Archer’s fishing rod and walked home with it. He found Adam helping Faith and Cora rake leaves. A smile covered Cora’s face as she ran to greet him with a hug. He tweaked her side, and set her back on her feet. “I need to talk to your mother and Adam alone,” he said. “Go play on the swing for a few minutes.”

“Will you push me?” she asked.

“I can’t, princess. I’m working.” He gave her a pat on the head, and she scampered off.

“What’s the matter?” Faith asked, tugging a pair of worn gloves off her hands. She approached him warily, like a snarling dog she was unsure of.

He couldn’t blame her. He’d snapped at her a dozen times since learning about the brothel. Her attempts to stroke his hackles back into place only antagonized him. He needed to work out his anger alone, and figure out how to get them out of this mess without losing everything he and his family had worked for.

A worried look creased Adam’s forehead as he dropped the rake, but when he saw the fishing rod, his eyes lit up. “Did you get a new rod?” he asked, stopping in front of Duke.

The genuine excitement in his face unbalanced Duke. He’d expected to see fear or feigned innocence, not boyish enthusiasm.

“Where were you last Sunday afternoon, Adam?”

The boy’s gaze shifted slightly and became guarded. “In the gorge.”

“Did you at any time go into Wayne Archer’s barn and remove this fishing rod?” he asked, finding that a direct question could sometimes shake loose an honest answer.

“No, sir,” Adam said, his scowl deepening. “I don’t even know where Mr. Archer lives.”

“Melissa Archer said she saw you leaving her father’s barn with this fishing rod Sunday afternoon at two-thirty.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “She’s lying.”

“Then you’re saying you were in the gorge?”

Adam’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”

“What were you doing in the gorge?”

“Skipping stones.”

“You told me you were going fishing.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Did you put my rod back in my boat?”

“I didn’t take it out. I just stayed in the gorge and skipped stones.”

“Then you never went to my boat?”

“No, sir. I haven’t been there since the day you took me fishing.”

“If you’re telling me you didn’t take this rod from his barn, then I want to know how it got on my boat.”

Adam clenched his jaw and said nothing, his stubborn silence increasing Duke’s ire.

“Adam . . .” Faith rubbed his shoulder, coddling him, which made Duke madder. “Do you know anything about this?”

The boy shook his head.

“All right then.” She glanced at Duke. “I believe him.”

She would. It irritated Duke that she accepted Adam’s word without considering the facts. “How did this rod end up on my boat if Adam didn’t put it there?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but I know when Adam isn’t telling the truth.”