Secrets in a Small Town (18 page)

They weren’t deceitful people. They were painfully and embarrassingly honest and blunt, particularly about things that made other people blush or uncomfortable, such as sexuality, politics and religion.

So what could they be hiding?

She pushed a sizeable lump down her throat, recognizing it as fear but she didn’t turn around and skip out, even though the idea became more appealing the closer she came to the answers she sought.

Her father saw her first and the giant smile wreathing his face as he watered his prized roses broke her heart just a little. Maybe she should ask another time. The answers could wait.
No,
another voice said sternly, steering her straight to the patio chair and depositing her firmly.
Get this over with. You’re a professional. Act like one. Pretend they’re not your parents and get the answers you need.

Right. Not her parents.

“Hey, peanut,” Jasper called out as he adjusted the water stream to the gentle rain setting. “Fancy seeing you here. I think there’s some tofu balls in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Coral came from the garden shed with her shears and smiled brightly when she saw her. “Did you get a good picture?” she asked, referencing the tree-sit. “I hope you got one that accurately depicts the righteous anger and sense of indignity at the injustice—”

“I got a decent picture,” she said, cutting her mother off, impatient to get to the real reason for her visit before she chickened out. “We need to talk.”

At her seriousness, they both stopped and gave her their utmost attention, which is what they always did when she made dramatic declarative statements. But no doubt, they weren’t expecting what was going to pop from her mouth today.

“What is it?” Coral asked, concerned. “You look all bound up like you’ve eaten a block of cheese for breakfast. We have fresh prunes…”

“I don’t need prunes, Coral,” she retorted, newly irritated. “What I need is straight answers from the people who always professed to be honest with me.”

Coral and Jasper exchanged looks, but Piper couldn’t tell if the look was conspiratorial in nature, as in our-goose-is-cooked or confused because their ordinarily easygoing daughter was going all psychobitchy on them without provocation. “Why didn’t you tell me you were at Red Meadows?” she asked, throwing it out on the table like a big, stinky dead fish. Funny, her parents’ reaction seemed appropriately aghast as if she had indeed thrown a cod their way.

“What are you talking about?” Jasper asked, twisting the valve so the water trickled to a stop. “Who told you this?”

“Classic deflection. Nice try,” she said, refusing to allow her love for them to soften her questioning. “A good source has informed me that you and Coral were, in fact, at Red Meadows when the raid happened, which oddly, is something you’ve failed to mention in all the times I’ve asked you about Red Meadows.”

Coral’s smile faded to something ghastly as her cheeks lost the color from the sunshine and turned an ugly, unhealthy hue that made her look years older. Instead of answering, she turned a baleful eye on Jasper and said in a tone that Piper had never heard her mother use, “I told you she wouldn’t stop,” she hissed, letting the shears drop with a dull thud to the grass. She jerked her gardening gloves from her fingers and held them tightly in her palm. “I knew this day would come. I said I wanted to send her to New York to spend time with your awful sister but you assured me everything would be fine. Well, it’s
not.
” She stalked past a stunned Piper and disappeared into the house, closing the sliding-glass door so hard Piper thought the glass might shatter. She whipped around to stare after her mother, unable to process what had just happened. She returned to her father, whose usually sparkly eyes were dull, and fear came crashing down on her. Maybe she wasn’t ready to know what happened.

“Dad?” she ventured, unsure of what to say in the face of her mother’s freak-out. “What’s going on?”

In all her years, she’d never seen her father look so haggard, so ashamed. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice miserable. “Haven’t I told you how much pain is associated with Red Meadows? This town wants to forget, not dig it back up again.”

“William Dearborn is dead,” she said. “Killed like Mimi LaRoche. Someone committed murder then and someone is doing it now. What if they’re the same person and they’re getting away with it?”

At the mention of William and Mimi, Jasper’s eyes clouded and a mournful sound escaped him. “How’d William die?” he asked.

“Shot in the back of the head, execution style. Nothing was taken, or stolen, which rules out robbery, but it seems highly suspicious that shortly after William shared with me certain details about Red Meadows, he ends up dead.”

Jasper looked at her sharply. “What kind of details?”

“I’m not at liberty to share at the moment,” she said, unable to believe she was giving her father the common line she gave strangers when she wanted them to stop fishing for information that only she was privy to. His mouth pinched at her answer, clearly unhappy with her evasion. “What’s going on? Is there something I should know? What was Coral talking about? I get the sense that you two are hiding something terrible and it’s really freaking me out.”

“You should be wary of the information given to you by William. He wasn’t right in the head. That’s why Olivia left him. She was afraid for Farley’s safety.”

She drew back. “Was he violent?”

“He was a different man back at Red Meadows.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t the only one,” she retorted, frustrated with her father’s evasive answers. She wasn’t getting far and she needed more. “Help me to understand why my parents were living at a racist compound when they are plainly, at least to my knowledge, the furthest thing from racists that a person can be.”

“It was a different time and we were different people, like so many at Red Meadows. Ty Garrett was—”

“Working with the FBI to bring down the Aryan Coalition,” she supplied hotly, righteous anger for a man she never knew, for the son he’d been forced to leave behind bubbled to the surface. “And he took a bullet meant for his son. What do you know about that?”

“Again, if your information is coming from William, I’d say it’s unreliable, at best, and grossly misleading, at worst. Ty Garrett wasn’t a hero.”

“What do you mean?”

“He seduced a young girl and then when she became inconvenient…”

She held her breath, not wanting to hear this but it was her father and how could she not believe him?

Jasper shook his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “She was a good, sweet person. And what happened was a tragedy and a crime.”

“Are you saying Ty Garrett killed Mimi LaRoche?” she asked on a gasp.

“Nothing was proven. He died innocent…of that particular charge, but he was guilty of plenty others.”

When she arrived, she found a flurry of activity, including a parked ambulance. The EMS crews exited the small office building with Gretchen on the gurney, clutching Owen’s hand with tears rolling down her face. She stared at Owen, surprised by the pinch of jealousy that followed at seeing him so attentive and obviously focused on the pregnant woman. They loaded Gretchen into the ambulance and Piper called Owen’s name, prompting him to turn and hastily tell her to bring Gretchen’s daughter Quinn to the hospital. He didn’t wait for her agreement, just climbed into the awaiting ambulance and she watched as it drove away.

She frowned, coughing and waving at the dust trail that spewed behind the ambulance and realized there was someone else left behind. He couldn’t be the father, otherwise he’d be the one holding Gretchen’s hand instead of Owen. “Friend?” she asked the compact, intense man beside her. He looked as if granite had been poured into his muscles because everywhere she looked she saw hard, solid strength. He must be a faller, she surmised, remembering Owen’s description of the various jobs on the site. She held out her hand. “Piper Sunday,
Dayton Tribune.
”

“I know who you are,” he said, dismissively. “You’re the one making all that trouble for Big Trees Logging. I got nothing to say to you.”

She withdrew her hand, stung, though she should’ve seen that coming. No one, aside from Owen, had ever been overly pleasant with her. Not that she blamed them, per se, but it still sucked to play the part of the villain. “Just doing my job,” she said stiffly, glancing sidewise at the man. “And you are?”

“Not interested.” And then he walked away, leaving her to stare after him. Oh, that was perfect. A perfect cherry on the top of the day she was having. And he had terrible manners. She chased after him, tapping on his shoulder for his attention. He turned with a grunt. “What?”

“You don’t have to like me but you could at least be civil.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” She jutted her chin out. “Now, why don’t you try and redeem yourself and tell me what happened here?”

“Why should I? You gonna put it in the paper?” he asked, suspicious.

“No. I’m…worried. Gretchen is pregnant and nowhere near her due date, right?” she asked, surprised when that impassive mask slipped, revealing true concern in the lug’s face. “I’m supposed to get Quinn and take her to the hospital. What should I tell her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, looking helpless, which was a strange look on a man who appeared made from steel. “I guess, the truth is a good place to start but the kid’s been through so much already.”

“You care a lot about Gretchen and her daughter,” she said, casting for information, going on a hunch.

“’Course I do,” he retorted. “She’s a good office manager…and a good woman.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’ve got feelings for Gretchen. Does she know?”

He looked ready to deny it, but Piper fixed him with her best knowing stare and he crumbled like an over-baked cookie. “Is it that obvious?” he asked roughly, his stubbled cheeks coloring under the scruff.

“Maybe not to some, but I’ve got a sixth sense about this kind of stuff. So, why aren’t you riding beside her in that ambulance?”

“Owen’s taking good care of her. She needs him.”

No, Gretchen needed a man who was available and Owen certainly wasn’t. “Are you the kind of guy who waits for opportunity to fall in your lap or do you go after what you want?”

He scowled. “What do you mean?”

“
Hello?
I mean, the woman of your dreams is right there beneath your nose and you’re letting her get away. You’re the one who ought to be by her side. If you don’t show a woman how you feel, she’ll never know. Make a declaration and stand up for what you want.”

He stared, looking caught between wanting to run after the ambulance and being rooted to the spot, but she gave him credit for stepping up when he said, “I see what you’re saying.”

“Excellent.” She nearly clapped her hands in delight. Here she was suffering from pangs of jealousy when, in fact, this man right here had it bad for the preggers office manager. Thank God. She hated the idea of chasing off a pregnant woman for Owen’s affections. She eyed him, then came upon an idea. “How about this…give me your cell number and I’ll call and give you an update as soon as I hear about Gretchen.”

“You’d do that?” he said, narrowing his stare at her as if he didn’t entirely trust her but desperately wanted to know what was happening with Gretchen so he was willing to do just about anything. He had the look of a man who might camp out at Gretchen’s door, out of sight, but within reaching distance if she needed anything. “All right,” he agreed, giving her the cell number. “Call me as soon as you know. But you don’t have to mention to her that you’re doing it, okay? I don’t want to bother her too much.”

She smiled and lied, “Of course not. It’ll be our secret.”

He seemed reluctant to accept those terms—being beholden to a reporter seemed a dicey deal to most—but he nodded and then climbed in his truck and rumbled down the street.

She checked her watch. School was nearly out. Time to get the kid and take her to the hospital and then find Owen.