We decided to get lunch and come up with a plan for the rest of the day. Zelda didn’t have a solid address for Stella, but she knew the name of the apartment complex. We picked a place with Wi-Fi and Jed brought in his computer bag. He set up his laptop on his side of the booth and began to search for Shenandoah Apartments, leaving me with plenty of time to think.

I wasn’t sure how to handle what Jed was going through. He and Skeeter went back a long way, so I understood why he felt betrayed, but I had no idea how to comfort him.

“Jed, I think we should talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” he asked as he continued his search.

“Skeeter.”

His fingers stopped typing and he glanced up at me. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s not true. He hurt you.”

His gaze returned to the screen. “He didn’t hurt me.”

“But he did. He’s like a brother to you, and you thought you shared almost everything. When you found out he’d spent all those years working for J.R. without ever telling you . . . that had to sting.”

“I trusted him, Neely Kate.” He didn’t look at me.

I covered his forearm with my hand. “I know.”’

“I knew his story about running off to Memphis to make seed money for the pool hall was a lie, but I didn’t press him. I figured he’d done something he was ashamed of.” He shook his head. “He wasn’t ashamed of it. He came back and worked for the man. He cleaned up your brother’s messes.”

“Joe’s?”

He glanced up at me. “Joe kept him pretty busy at times.”

Joe had rebelled against our father’s expectations, enough so that he’d gotten himself into trouble with the law in his earlier days, despite the fact that he worked for the Arkansas State Police. I’d heard that J.R. had always sent in a cleanup crew to smooth things over. I had no idea that Skeeter was the one who’d pushed the broom.

“Skeeter was always running off to do some secret task. I started to get more and more suspicious about what he was doing, but he’d shut me down straightaway whenever I asked. Then the secretive trips stopped one day five years ago. No explanation. I guess that was when he quit doin’ J.R.’s grunt work, but I never heard a word of any of it until last winter . . . when he was working with Rose.” He shook his head. “Even when shit was goin’ down last fall, he never breathed a word.”

“Maybe he was ashamed after all,” I suggested. “Skeeter’s a powerful man in his own right. Being on J.R.’s leash had to chafe. Even years later. I would guess that could wound a man’s pride.”

Jed seemed to consider my words. “Maybe. But it doesn’t fully explain why he’d keep something so important from me.”

I glanced out the window. “Rose doesn’t know about this part of my life, and I don’t want her to ever know.”

“But you’re telling me.”

I turned back to him. “And I’m dolin’ it out piece by piece. Maybe that’s how Skeeter did it . . . with Rose.”

Jed didn’t look any happier.

“Maybe we need different friends for different things,” I said. “I don’t know why I feel more comfortable sharing this part of my life with you . . . Maybe it’s because you’re more worldly when it comes to seedy doin’s. Or maybe it’s because Rose has always believed in the sugar-spun version of me, and I can’t stand smashin’ that image to bits. But I do know that I always feel like I’m pretending, like someone’s gonna point at me and shout, ‘She’s not wearin’ any clothes.’”

He frowned. “Because you were a dancer?”

I laughed. “No. Because of the story of the emperor’s new clothes.”

He gave me a blank look.

“You know . . . the story about the emperor who gets bamboozled by some tailors who claim they can make a suit only smart people can see. Only, there is no suit and they charge him a lot of money, and the king won’t call ’em on it because he doesn’t want to look stupid.”

“Anyone who would fall for such bullshit is stupid.”

I laughed. “It’s no different than a princess sleepin’ on a stack of mattresses on top of a pea to prove she’s royalty. They’re fairy tales.”

His frown deepened. “There’s no room for fairy tales in my life.”

I held his gaze. “Maybe it’s time you started makin’ room for them.”

His expression softened and the hint of a smile appeared just as the waitress showed up to take our order. When she left, Jed turned back to his computer.

I let the subject of Skeeter drop. Jed Carlisle didn’t strike me as a man who went around talking about his feelings. I was lucky to get what I had out of him.

A few minutes later, with his eyes still on the screen, he said, “Based on satellite maps, the Shenandoah Apartment complex looks fairly small, which means it will be easier for us to figure out where she lives. She has a baby, which should make it even easier. What does Stella look like?”

“She looked like a model. Tall and thin, with long, shiny blond hair. She was a favorite at the club. Men would go in on her nights just to see her. She’s gorgeous . . . or at least she used to be . . .”

He picked up on my train of thought. “Zelda suggested she’s an addict. What would she be using?”

“Meth,” I said. “She used it before. She liked it. A lot. But she fought it.” I looked up at him. “So she might not be as pretty as she used to be.”

He nodded.

The waitress showed up with our food, and I let out a little laugh when she set the large salad bowl in front of Jed.

“What?” he asked as she walked away.

I picked up a fry from the pile next to my BLT sandwich. “You don’t look like you need to go on a diet.”

He had a playful look that made him seem years younger and more carefree. “Have you been checking me out, Neely Kate?”

“It was hard not to notice there wasn’t an ounce of fat on you this morning . . .” I let my voice trail off suggestively, but I was grinning like a fool. Jed made me feel like the seventeen-year-old version of myself, the one who had compartmentalized all the crap from her past and pretended it never existed. The one who had foolhardily believed in love and romance and happily-ever-afters.

But that seemed crazy, in and of itself. Jed was seeing the ugliest bits of me. So why did I feel so much lighter with him? Why did this feel okay?

Belatedly, I worried that reminding him of this morning would make him turn surly again—just like he had after our second kiss—but he grinned back at me. “Maybe I’m tryin’ to be healthy.” He pointed to my plate with his fork. “Maybe I don’t want to clog my arteries.”

I laughed and ate another fry.

We turned quiet for a minute as I took several bites of my sandwich and Jed ate his salad, which I had to confess looked delicious. I picked up my fork and stabbed it into his bowl, fishing out a piece of chicken along with some lettuce and a piece of apple.

“Umm . . . this is pretty good.”

He laughed. “You want more?”

I took another bite, and he reached over and picked up half my sandwich.

It was such a simple thing, but the unstudied intimacy of it floored me.

Not the time or the place, Neely Kate. Here I was back in Ardmore, Oklahoma, reopening my own version of hell, but I was flirting with Jed over a stupid salad and a sandwich. Still, there was no denying he was keeping me suspended above all the bad memories rather than lost in the thick of them. I wanted him to stay—and our visit to Stella would help determine if he could handle the rest of it.

He noticed the change in my mood. “You thinkin’ about Stella?”

I stabbed my fork into his salad bowl again and nodded. “Yeah.”

“How close were you?”

“Close. Or so I thought. After Momma dumped me on my granny, I had a lot of friends in school, but it’s easy to keep people at a distance when you’re popular.” I realized now that I’d held them back out of necessity. “I never had a close friend until Stella.”

“And Stella helped you get the job at Slick Willy’s?”

I nodded. “Zelda tried to stop me, even though she pretended to believe we were working at a bar. I’m not surprised she knew. She was lettin’ us keep our dignity.” I paused. “Or more accurately, me. Stella wasn’t ashamed.”

“If you were so reluctant to do it, how did you handle the job after you started?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Some of the girls at the Bunny Ranch take to it like ducks to water, like Stella probably did. But some of them only stay because they’re desperate. You can always see it in their eyes. The Ranch is literally the last place on earth they would choose to work, but they need the money too much to leave.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “The customers notice, of course, and those girls make less tip money. When that happens, I always try to quietly find the girl another job. Working as a waitress or a maid doesn’t pay as much as the successful performers in the club rake in, but those girls never get to be top earners anyway. Plus, they don’t feel like they’re selling their souls for a wad of one-dollar bills.”

He stared at his salad, looking embarrassed, but I was staring at him. This was further proof of what a good man he was. Leaving Skeeter was the right move for Jed. Granted, Skeeter Malcolm was a better man than I’d expected. Jed and Rose had made me realize he had morals of a kind, a rarity for someone in his position. Still, I knew in my heart that Jed deserved better. Something told me he felt like he was selling his soul, just like those girls at the Bunny Ranch did. Only, I suspected Jed did it out of loyalty.

“It was hard for me at first,” I said, picking up my half of the sandwich. “But I got used to it. I just had to become the person I created on stage, and when I left, I left her there.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard. I was used to pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“Kitty?”

I gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, Stan gave me that name. He could see how shy I was when he interviewed me. He said I was as innocent as a newborn kitten.”

“How long did you work there?”

I shuddered. “Nineteen months.”

“And you worked there until you left town? Stan said you took off after something big happened. You said it was after Branson cheated on you with your best friend. Stella.”

I knew it would be easier to come clean, but I still wasn’t ready to face what happened the day before I left, let alone tell Jed.

“How long had Branson been your boyfriend?”

I released a bitter laugh. “That depends on how you look at it. Did I stop calling him my boyfriend the day I left, or somewhere around the middle when he started doing things to me that no real boyfriend would ever do?”

“The cheating?”

“Yeah. But that was only one small part. The others were worse.”

He let that sink in, and I could see he was full of questions, so I was surprised by the one he chose, the most innocuous of all. “And Stella was one of the women he cheated with?”

I sat back in my seat, my greasy french fries not settling well. “Yeah.”

“When was the last time you saw Stella?”

“The day before I left.”

“The day something big happened.”

“She doesn’t know everything.” My hands began to shake, so I put them under the table. “She only knows parts.”

“Does anyone besides you know everything?” Jed asked.

A tsunami of guilt crashed into me. “Beasley.” Tears filled my eyes as I said his name.

Jed studied me for several seconds. What was he thinking? He knew Beasley had gone to prison. Did he realize it should have been me?

He closed his laptop and started to slide out of his seat. I knew in my gut this was it—this was when he left me. But he surprised me once again by moving to my side of the booth and sliding in next to me. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Out of instinct, I wrapped an arm over his stomach and held him close.

We sat like that for a couple of minutes. The waitress came back to check on us, but Jed told her we were good and sent her away.

“How much danger are you in?” Jed finally asked. “People are looking for you. I suspect the woman was Kate, but I doubt that guy was a cop. The question is, who was he?”

“I have no idea.”

“Was there anything to his missing persons line of questioning?”

I hesitated. “Maybe.”

“Was the missing person he was asking about you?”

“No.”

He was quiet for several seconds. “Can it be traced to you?”

I hesitated again. “Maybe.”

I thought he’d press me for more information, but he went down a different path. “Kate was here asking questions before she showed up in Henryetta at the end of December. Which only supports the idea that J.R. found you thirteen years ago and that your mother ran because of it. Is it possible she might have kicked a few sleeping dogs in regard to what happened when you left five years ago?”

“Yes.” There was one common denominator in all of this, and I was going to have to face him again, sooner rather than later. “After we talk to Stella, we need to find Beasley.”

“I know he was in prison. What was he convicted of?”

My anxiety skyrocketed, and Jed held me tighter.

“You don’t have to tell me yet.”

“But I do.”

“Do I need to know before we talk to Stella?”

“She’ll probably mention it.”

“Are you opposed to me finding out from her instead of you?”

I needed to face this head-on, but learning about Beasley’s conviction would probably only confuse him. Besides, call me a masochist, but better for him to learn that and plenty more from Stella. The ugly truths he’d already learned were only the tip of the iceberg.

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You seemed surprised when Kate told you that Beasley was out of prison. How long was his sentence?”

“Fifteen years.”

“So he could have gotten out on good behavior,” Jed said. “Or he could have gotten out due to outside influence.”

I gasped and sat up. How had I failed to consider that? “Kate?”

“Maybe. Was he incarcerated in Oklahoma?”

“Yeah.”

“Kate would have had more influence in Arkansas, but a lot of her strings must have snapped after her father’s downfall.”

My father’s downfall.

“Still,” he said, “I wouldn’t put it past her.” He paused and then his voice softened. “I know you’re reluctant to give me details, but I’d like to look into his release and see if anything looks suspicious. To do that, I need to know his full name and what he was convicted of.” Another moment of silence hung between us before he continued. “Neely Kate, I need to ask you something else. I noticed your reaction when Kate mentioned his release. Should we be worried for your safety in regard to Beasley? Will he come after you?”

Once, I would have said no. We’d maintained regular contact for years, and even two years ago, he’d eagerly accepted my calls. Something had changed, though—and abruptly—about a year ago. He wouldn’t talk to me on the phone anymore, wouldn’t answer my notes. “I’m not sure.”

His body tensed. “Do you think he’s here in Ardmore now?”

“I don’t know. He had some family here, so maybe. All I know is that I need to talk to him.” I paused. “He’s the only one who knows about the azaleas.”

“Okay,” he said matter-of-factly. “So he goes on the list of people to talk to.” He considered something, then asked, “Were Stella and Beasley close?”

“No. They couldn’t stand each other, but they were kind of stuck together.”

“Why?”

“Because Stella was my best friend and Beasley was Branson’s brother.”

“And where’s Branson?”

“I don’t know.”

And I hoped I never found out.