CHAPTER TWELVE
REVEREND THOMPSON HAD hoped that Colie might come home after her husband died. But she’d said that she liked living and working in Jacobsville, that she had family and friends there. He knew why she wouldn’t come home. She didn’t trust herself around J.C. and she didn’t want to make things worse for her father. But she was lonely. Ludie made up for a lot. The child was the color in her life now. She lived for her daughter.
J.C. asked about Colie from time to time. The reverend shared the videos she sent of Ludie, as she grew. It was one of the few things that made J.C. laugh, seeing the child take her first steps, say her first words. Underneath it was a terrible sadness, though. J.C. would never know the child.
The reverend hadn’t mentioned the Friday night chess games to Colie. He was growing quite fond of J.C., but she never spoke of him. She went on with her job and seemed perfectly happy where she was. One day, he reasoned, she might come home again and make things up with J.C. The man he was coming to know had some wonderful qualities, behind that mask he wore.
But it had been two years since her husband’s death, and now the reverend went to Texas to see his daughter and granddaughter. Colie was reluctant to come back to Wyoming, especially with Ludie, when everyone remembered how things had been with Colie and J.C. As the child grew, her hair became a riot of red-gold curls and she had pale gray eyes that were a mirror of J.C.’s. It would start gossip all over again, unsettle her father. And Rod was still around with his so-called friend, who would think Colie was coming home to tell people what she knew. She couldn’t risk it. Her father was precious to her. She wouldn’t put his life on the line. Or her daughter’s. J.C. had said that he had regrets, but he’d never mentioned any possibility that he might want to get married even now. Without all the complications, it would still be painful for Colie to be around him, knowing that she’d just eat her heart out with every sight of him. Better to stay in Jacobsville, where she had a good job, relatives and friends.
* * *
“YOU’RE PANTING LIKE an underfed steam engine,” J.C. commented during one of their Friday chess matches. “You should see a doctor.”
The reverend made a face. “It’s pollen,” he commented. “It’s autumn. I always get shortness of breath when the fall flowers come out.”
J.C. didn’t believe that. He’d been around the reverend for over two years, now. He saw Ludie as she grew, on the videos Colie sent her father. It had been a revelation, how much he enjoyed those simple, poignant glimpses of the child he wasn’t supposed to know was his.
He’d wanted to go and see Colie, but he had cold feet. He’d caused her too much pain. He wasn’t certain that she could forgive it, and his pride stood up and rattled whenever he thought of lowering it to ask for a second chance. J.C. had never asked for anything in his life.
He knew why Colie wouldn’t come home. It was for Ludie’s sake, because people would see her and speculate, knowing that Colie had lived with J.C. for several weeks. Perhaps she also thought that J.C. was of the same old mind-set, that he’d never offer commitment. He couldn’t blame her. He’d never given her any reason to think he’d changed. But he had.
It was pride that kept him from going to Texas and pleading with her to come home. She stayed away out of choice. He could only assume it was because of him. She loved her father and the local law firm would have created a job for her. But she didn’t want to come back. Maybe the possibility of gossip stopped her. More than likely it was the fact that J.C. had managed to kill the love she’d had for him. She didn’t care enough to come back.
Still, photos and occasional videos were better than nothing. He laughed as they watched a video made four months ago of Ludie scooping up a spoonful of ice cream at her second birthday party and flinging it across the table at a little boy who called her a name. It was one they’d watched several times since Colie had sent it to her father.
“She’s got a temper,” the reverend chuckled as he watched the video with J.C.
“Justified, in this case,” J.C. replied. His face had hardened. “I hate having her called a witch. Colie was like that, she saw things that other people didn’t...”
“Yes, like Tank Kirk’s wife does,” the reverend interrupted. “In any community, there are people with gifts that set them apart from other people.”
J.C. studied the older man curiously. “Shouldn’t you be disturbed by paranormal things?”
The reverend just smiled. “Most gifts come from God, my son,” he said simply, noting the effect that last word had on a man who’d barely known his own father, and not in a good way. He and J.C. had become close. “You look at the fruits. If they result in good things, how can that be evil?”
J.C. drew in a long breath. “I suppose so.” He smiled reminiscently. “My paternal grandmother saw far. My father’s father was a shaman in the Blackfoot nation. I suppose such gifts are taken for granted among native peoples.”
He was insinuating that Ludie’s gift came from his side of the family. He knew Ludie was his. The reverend had long since realized that, but he didn’t comment on it.
“Will Colie ever come home, do you think?” J.C. asked after a minute while he concentrated on a chess move.
“I don’t know, J.C.,” came the sad reply. “People gossip. Even though she was married, most folks around Catelow know that she spent most of her time with you...” His voice trailed off.
J.C. let out a long breath. “Ludie would suffer for it,” he finished for the reverend. His chiseled mouth curved down. “She’s a beautiful child.” He looked up. “You don’t know how much it’s meant to me, seeing her through the photos and videos. She’s...” He searched for a word past the lump in his throat. “She’s exceptional.”
“Yes, she is.” He leaned back in his chair. “You never thought about going to Texas and telling my daughter that you know the truth about Ludie?” he asked after a minute, revealing that he knew J.C. had worked that out.
“I did. I thought about it a lot,” he replied. “But I’ve hurt her too much already. She seems very happy where she is.” He looked up with troubled silver eyes. “I’m a bad risk,” he said suddenly. “I don’t know what a good home life is. I come from a badly broken home. I have trust issues.” He looked down. “It’s helped, having you to talk to,” he confessed. “But the wounds are deep. I’m not...sure,” he said finally, “that I wouldn’t hurt her all over again. I couldn’t bear to do that. Not when she has Ludie to care for.”
“Ludie is growing up without you,” the reverend said gently.
J.C. actually winced. Yes, she was, and it hurt him. His child had another man’s name. She didn’t know her real father. She might never know. “Colie doesn’t want me to know about Ludie.” He looked up in time to see the flash of pain in the older man’s face. “You know that.”
The reverend leaned forward. His color was high. Odd, that he’d be flushed when the room was so cool. “There’s a reason Colie hasn’t come home, and it has nothing to do with you,” he said suddenly.
J.C. was interested. He raised both dark eyebrows.
Reverend Thompson fought to get a breath of air. Odd, how difficult it was to breathe. His chest felt as if someone was sitting on it. He was nauseous, as well. Must be the chili he’d had for supper, he reasoned.
“Have you seen my son lately?” Reverend Thompson asked suddenly.
“Rod avoids me,” came the terse reply. “You can probably guess why.”
“Because you were a policeman,” the older man said. “You still have those sterling ideals of what the law should be, despite your troubles. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”
J.C. was touched. “Thanks.”
“My son has learned to live without...scruples,” the other man said heavily. “I know he’s mixed up in something illegal, J.C. He hardly ever comes home now. He only calls at holidays, and then it’s just a terse greeting and nothing more.” His eyes held a faraway look. “He’s never far from that friend of his from Jackson Hole. He hasn’t worked for the hardware store for a long time, but people I know say that he’s driving a new Jaguar and wearing handmade suits. We both know he doesn’t make that kind of money selling tools.”
J.C. just nodded.
The reverend put a hand to his chest. “If anything happens to me,” he said quickly, “you have to make sure...that Colie’s safe,” he said urgently, his eyes full of worry. “That Ludie’s safe, as well.”
J.C. frowned. “What do you know, sir?” he asked respectfully.
The older man was struggling for breath. “Colie mentioned a case the lawyers at her job are working on. It has ties to a notorious drug lord in Jackson Hole. They’re defending a member of a gang who has ties to it, and...evidence they’ve gathered may expose the man. Their client has a friend who is going to name the dealers and suppliers, turn state’s evidence, to defend the client Colie’s employers are representing. There have already been threats.”
J.C.’s heart jumped. “Rod’s involved.” It was a statement.
“I believe so. Please, do whatever you can to protect my daughter and granddaughter.”
“I’ll never let anyone hurt Colie, or the child,” the younger man promised. “I swear it.”
“Thank you.” The other man looked pale now, where he’d been flushed before. “You’re like a son to me, J.C.,” he said unexpectedly. “I wish... Why does it hurt so much?” he broke off, gasping for breath.
J.C. had been too mesmerized by what the older man was saying to notice the symptoms of a heart attack.
“Dear God,” he whispered huskily. He got up and eased the other man to the floor. He whipped out his cell phone and called 911.
“Take care...of Colie! Tell her, I love her...” the reverend managed before he lost consciousness.
* * *
COLIE WAS HAVING supper with her cousins, Annie and Ty Mosby. Ludie, in her high chair, had been given her baby food and was playing with a teething ring when she suddenly dropped the plastic toy and looked at her mother with wide gray eyes.
“Gimpa,” she said. “Gimpa sick!”
Colie lost color. She’d felt that something bad was in the offing, but with no idea what. She grabbed for her phone and pressed in her father’s number. The phone rang and rang.
It was Saturday night. Her father almost never left the house then. But a member of his congregation might be sick. Or he might be working on his sermon and not realize that the phone was even ringing...
There was a click. “Colie?”
It was J.C.’s voice. Or was it? What would J.C. be doing at her father’s house? “I was calling Daddy...”
“The ambulance just came. I’m riding in to the hospital with him. You need to get here as quick as you can, honey. I’m sorry. I think it’s a heart attack.”
“Oh, dear God,” she choked.
“He’d tell you that there’s a reason for everything,” he managed. It was choking him up, too. He loved her father. “He said to tell you he loved you.” He paused. “Come as fast as you can, okay? Call me when you have an ETA, I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“I will,” she choked. She bit her lip. “Thanks, J.C.”
“Hurry.” He hung up.
She turned to her cousins, white in the face. “It’s Daddy. J.C.’s with him. A heart attack, he thinks... I have to go to Catelow!”
“I’ll have them prep the jet right now,” Ty said, getting up.
“I’ll help you pack,” Annie volunteered.
“I have to call the office,” Colie began and then realized it was Saturday. “I’ll call Mr. Donnally at home,” she amended. “I don’t know if I can get back by Monday. I have vacation days that I haven’t used, they can get a temp,” she rambled as she followed her cousin to the bedroom with Ludie in her arms.
Ludie reached up a little hand and touched her mother’s wet face. Her gray eyes were wet, too. “Gone,” she said in her clear, soft little voice. “Gimpa gone, Mommy.”
Colie felt the pain all the way to her soul. But maybe her daughter was wrong. She discounted all the times she’d been right in her young life. “We’ll go see him,” she assured her daughter. “He’ll be fine. Of course he will!”
“Gone,” Ludie repeated and burst into tears.
Her cousin winced. She knew, as Colie did, that the child had an uncanny knowledge of future events. “We’ll get you packed and on the jet,” she said. “I can go with you, if you need me.”
“J.C.’s meeting me at the airport,” Colie said huskily.
Her cousin’s eyebrows arched. “He was with your father. I didn’t think they got along.”
“Neither did I. Maybe Ren sent J.C. over to Daddy’s house with soup or something. Merrie makes it for him when he’s not feeling well.” Tears were pouring down her cheeks. “My coat. I’ll need my coat. It gets cold in Wyoming in autumn. Ludie will need hers, too.”
Her cousin hugged her. “We’ll get it all together. Try not to worry.”
Colie wanted to. But her daughter’s eyes were pouring tears...
* * *
J.C. WAS WAITING for them at the concourse. He looked older, worn. His face was taut with emotion as he saw Colie for the first time since her father had had the appendectomy, over two years earlier.
His eyes went from Colie to the little girl in her arms. He actually winced when he looked at the child. Her red-gold curls bounced as her mother walked, and her pale silver eyes sought his and held there, as if she knew him.
“How’s Daddy?” Colie asked at once.
He tried to find words and failed. “I’m so sorry,” he said roughly.
“Gimpa gone,” Ludie said, her lower lip trembling.
J.C. actually gasped as he looked at her.
“She knew that something had happened to him before I tried to call him,” Colie said, swallowing hard. Tears rained down her pale cheeks. She was never going to see her father again. It had been so sudden!
He reached out and touched Colie’s face, brushing away the tears. The child caught his big fingers in hers and looked at him with his own eyes.
“You play with Gimpa,” she said in her clear, sweet childish voice.
J.C. was reeling. “Yes.”
“Play?” Colie asked.
“Chess,” he said shortly. He reached for the wheeled suitcase and the carry-on bag that held all the things she needed for Ludie. “We should go.”
“My brother,” she managed.
“Haven’t seen him,” he bit off. “I tried to call him, but he’s changed phones. I called Jackson Hole and talked to the police chief. He’ll find him and notify him about your father.”
“Is he still at the hospital?” she asked as they moved down the concourse toward the exit.
J.C. ground his teeth together. “No. They’ve transported him...”
“Yes,” Colie interrupted. She didn’t want to hear him say “to the funeral home,” even though she knew that was coming.
“There’s a bad man, Mommy,” Ludie said as they went out toward the parking lot. “A bad, bad man. Coming to see us.”
J.C. exchanged a stunned glance with Colie.
“What bad man, sweetheart?” Colie asked the child.
“Bad man. Got a gun.”
Colie bit her lower lip, hard.
“Does she do this often?” J.C. asked curtly.
“All the time.” She held Ludie closer. “It’s all right, honey,” she said softly, kissing the wet little cheek. “It’s okay.”
Ludie clung to her. “Mommy,” she wailed.
J.C. was disturbed by the child’s gift. He hadn’t known it was so developed. She was only, what, a little over two years old? He wondered if his grandmother had been able to do this when she was two.
The familiar black SUV was parked near the entrance. Except that it was a newer model.
Colie managed a smile. “Nothing changes.”
He chuckled. “I like black.”
“Oh, gosh, I forgot the car seat!” Colie groaned. “I was going to bring it, but I was so upset...” Her voice trailed away as she noted the child’s car seat, a very expensive model, already strapped into the back seat when he opened the door.
“I planned ahead,” he remarked simply.
Colie was too shocked for words.
“You’re nice,” Ludie said to the tall man and smiled at him. She had dimples. Her silver eyes gleamed with something like affection.
“You’re nice, too, little one,” J.C. said huskily.
Colie strapped her into the seat. “We’ll be home, soon, okay?” she asked the child, handing her the teething ring that she loved.
“Okay, Mommy.”
Colie shut the door and let J.C. put her up into the high seat. She was wearing jeans and a white sweater with her red Berber coat. Ludie had a white down jacket that she’d begged for in the children’s shop back in Texas.
“At least you two dressed for the weather,” J.C. remarked as he started the engine. He had on jeans, too, and a new shepherd’s coat. No hat. Just like old times, Colie thought with a stab of pain.
“I remembered how cold it got,” she said simply.
* * *
THEY DROVE THROUGH town on the way to her father’s house.
She looked at the new construction. “What’s that going to be?” she asked.
He chuckled. “A new fish place. The old one burned down last year.”
“They had good food,” she said before she thought.
“Yes. I miss it.”
She glanced at him, noting the hard lines in his handsome face. “Why were you with Daddy?” she asked suddenly.
He managed a faint smile. “We missed our usual Friday night chess match because he had to go see a member of his congregation who was in the hospital. We postponed it until last night.”
“Usual chess match,” she faltered. Her father hadn’t told her any of this.
He nodded. “Sometimes he’d cook, sometimes I would.” He stopped, because he was choking up.
Colie saw that, fascinated. The man she remembered was all but incapable of emotion. At least, any that showed.
He drove without speaking for a long time, until he came to the turnoff that led to her father’s house.
The trees were dropping leaves, but the glorious colors of autumn were much in evidence all around the house. Colie felt such pain as she saw the house and remembered all the good and bad memories that dwelled in it.
J.C. pulled up at the front door and helped her get her suitcases inside. She noticed that the chessboard was still set up, pieces out of order as they’d been when the attack had come.
“He said that it felt as if someone was sitting on his chest. I knew what it was at once,” J.C. said, his pale eyes riveted to the chessboard. “I got him on the floor and called for an ambulance. I did CPR until it arrived. But I knew before they got him on the gurney that it was too late.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Not the first heart attack I’ve ever seen,” he added quietly. “This one would appear to have been massive.”
“They show things like that on TV,” she faltered. “They do CPR and then they put in stents...”
He turned to her. “Honey, a severe heart attack kills most of the heart muscle almost at once. Necrosis of tissue, massive necrosis,” he said gently. “If he’d been sitting in the emergency room with a trauma team it would have made no difference. As he liked to say, when your time comes, nothing will stop it... Colie,” he whispered, wincing as she wept.
He pulled her into his arms, with Ludie in hers, and held her close, rocking them both in the shelter of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He was the kindest man I ever knew,” he added, almost choking on the words.
She drank in the familiar smell of J.C. that she’d never been able to get out of her mind. Even after all that had happened, the closeness was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of it.
His arms tightened. “I called Lucy while I was waiting for your plane to get in,” he added. “She’ll be over soon.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“I called the youth minister, as well. He said he’ll organize everything.”
“The funeral home,” she choked.
“He told me some time ago exactly what he wanted,” he said over her head. “I already called them. I’ll drive you over in the morning and you can finish the arrangements.”
She drew back and looked up at him from tear-wet green eyes. “Thanks,” she managed.
His lean fingers drew down her wet cheeks. “It was little enough to do. He loved you both very much. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save him,” he bit off.
Why, he loved her father! She was surprised, not only at the revelation that he’d been a frequent visitor here, but that he cared so much.
“He was kind to me,” he said after a minute. “When he probably shouldn’t have been.”
She nodded. “He said that life was useless unless we forgave people. It’s what faith is supposed to be all about.”
He smiled gently. “Life goes on. Death is just another step in the journey. He’s out picking wildflowers with your mother right now,” he added.
It was so close to what she’d been thinking about Darby and his late wife when he died that she drew in her breath.
“You’re the one who should have said that, by the way, not me,” he added.
She searched his pale eyes. “You’re not the same.”
“Time changes us. Sometimes, it actually changes us for the better.” He looked over her head at the chessboard and sighed. “I’ll miss him, Colie.”
“Me, too.”
J.C.’s phone rang as he was trying to find the right words to tell Colie just how much time had changed him.
He answered the ring. “Calhoun,” he said.
“It’s Chief Marcus,” came a deep voice over the line. “I found Mr. Thompson and told him about his father. He said he’ll be there later today.”
“Thanks,” J.C. replied. “I owe you one.”
“You know much about him?” came the quiet reply.
“A little too much,” he said.
“Well, he’s got a friend who’s just a few inches short of the FBI’s Most Wanted list, if you get my drift,” the other man said. “The friend’s attached to him like a tick. Something’s going down pretty soon, and your buddy may be right in the middle of it. I gather that he’s viewed as a security risk by the friend. Just a word to the wise.”
“I was a policeman for two years. I still teach them, over in Iraq,” J.C. told him. “I know how to watch my six.”
“Be sure you do. Big money involved in this. People get itchy when their ill-gotten gains are threatened. We’ve got feds here investigating. Court case coming up in Texas that could blow this whole thing sky-high.”
“I’m aware of that. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Come by when you’re in the area,” the other man said on a chuckle. “We can talk over old times.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks again.”
Colie was watching him with curious eyes.
“The police chief in Jackson Hole was in combat with me,” he explained. “He found your brother. Rod said he’d be here by the end of the day. And his friend’s coming with him.” His eyes went to Ludie, who was now sitting on the sofa playing with her teething beads. He looked worried.
“He’s not staying here,” Colie said curtly. “I won’t let him in the front door.”
J.C.’s pale eyes went back to her. “I’m not leaving you here alone,” he said shortly.
She started to protest.
He held up a hand. “I worked it out with Lucy,” he interrupted. “She’s coming over to stay with you until after the funeral.”
Her expression was more eloquent than words. She was relieved that J.C. hadn’t announced he was going to stay there with her. It hurt him, but he hid it. He was used to hiding wounds.
“Cody Banks is our sheriff, and he’ll come at the drop of a hat if he’s needed.” He paused. “I had a talk with him about Rod. But I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.”
“About...?” she asked hesitantly.
“Your law firm is defending a client who has ties to Rod’s operation, Colie,” he replied. “I can’t believe you didn’t already know that.”
She lowered her eyes to Ludie. “Yes. I knew,” she said sadly.
“So did your father. He was concerned about the two of you, although he held out hope that one day Rod might see the light.”
She looked up. “You and my father, playing chess,” she said, and her tone was wistful. “I can hardly believe it.”
“Neither could I, the first time I came over, after you were here for his surgery,” he added. “He invited me to play chess.” He smiled sadly. “It was a beginning. Years too late, of course.”
She was thinking of a poem, about the saddest words being it might have been. It was absolutely true. “How are Merrie and Ren?” she asked, for something to say.
“Doing well. They’d love to see you, if you’re going to stay for a few days before you go back home.”
“I don’t know how long it will take, to wrap things up.” She was fighting tears again.
“I’ll do anything I can to help. He was a good man. The best I’ve ever known,” he added curtly.
She searched his eyes, those pale gray ones that looked so much like Ludie’s. She wondered if he’d ever suspected that the child was his. He probably wouldn’t have believed it if she’d told him.
“Well, I’ll get home,” he said after an awkward silence. “If you need anything, you can call me.”
“Thanks for bringing us home,” she said.
“It wasn’t a problem.” He glanced at Ludie, who was still watching him with open curiosity. The sight of her was painful. He’d missed so much of her life.
Colie saw the pain he couldn’t hide, but she wasn’t admitting anything.
“If Rod shows up here, you call me,” he said abruptly. “Or you call Cody Banks. Don’t play with fire.”
She drew in a breath. “He’s in a bad place. I’m not sure he can dig his way out, or that he wants to. But I meant it. I won’t let him in the front door.”
She didn’t realize, and he didn’t tell her, that a determined man would barrel right past her and Lucy. Verbal threats would be useless from a woman.
“Keep your cell phone handy.”
“I always do.”
He walked out, reluctantly. As he drove away, he saw Colie, holding Ludie, standing in the doorway. It was a poignant sight, the family he might have been part of. Now, his only thought was to protect them, to keep them safe.
On the way home, he phoned Cody Banks.
“I spoke with the police chief in Jackson Hole, who said Rod was mixed up in some bad company,” he said, after revisiting Rod’s excessive lifestyle. “If he comes back here, Colie says she won’t let him stay in the house. But the police chief seems to think he’s bringing his friend with him—the drug supplier.”
“If he comes here looking for trouble, he’ll find some,” Cody said simply.
“Colie and Ludie are going to be alone, except for her friend Lucy,” he replied. “I would have offered to stay, but it would start gossip all over again. I don’t want to hurt her reputation any more than I already have.”
“Noble thought, but a man in the house would be more help than a dozen cell phones with 911 preprogrammed.”
“I know that,” J.C. said abruptly.
“Sorry.” There was a pause. “Don’t we know a man she might trust to stay with her?”
“Ren might volunteer, if I asked him,” J.C. said after a minute. “Or even Willis. He could bring his wolf,” he added with faint humor.
“Oh, I can see it now, a little girl who liked bologna sandwiches and a three-legged wolf hungry for meat...”
“Stop that,” J.C. chuckled. “You know the wolf’s tame.”
“No wild animal is ever tame, and you can quote me. Or have you forgotten my one experience with trying to raise a tame fox?”
“Ouch,” J.C. replied, and tried not to laugh.
“Damned thing almost took my thumb off, and I’d raised it from a kit,” he sighed. “I guess dogs are better, anyway. My Siberian husky is five years old now. My wife gave her to me for Christmas, the year before she died,” he added quietly.
J.C. didn’t reply. He knew the story, as most local people did. Cody’s wife, a doctor at a hospital nearby, had died of a contagious illness some years back. He’d mourned her and never remarried.
“I had a husky when I was a boy,” J.C. commented. “I’d take him on the toboggan with me and we’d go down the most dangerous hills I could find. He was a great pal.”
“They usually are. Except that if you’re ever burgled, the husky will follow the thieves around to show them the best stuff and then help them carry it out to the getaway car,” he added, laughing. “A watchdog, he is not.”
“True, that.”
“Tell Colie that if she needs me, she can call anytime,” the sheriff added. “I don’t sleep much and I’d love a chance to put her brother where he belongs. Don’t tell her that last bit,” he added.
“I won’t. But I feel the sentiment, just the same. He’s mixed up in dangerous company. It’s just a matter of time until he’s called to account for his crimes.”
“Now you sound like a cop again,” Banks chuckled.
“I guess I do. Thanks for the backup.”
“No sweat. Is Colie staying long, or did she say?”
“She’s got a job back in Texas,” J.C. replied heavily. “And she seems to be happy there.”
“Too bad, about the husband.”
It stung J.C. to think about the man who’d followed him in Colie’s life. “She said he loved the little girl.”
“What did he look like?” Banks asked suddenly.
“Her husband? I’m not sure.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just a sec...” There was a pause and some static. Banks came back on the line. “We’ve got a pileup on the interstate. I’m en route. Talk to you later.”
“Sure.”
He hung up. For the first time, he wondered what Colie’s husband looked like. He’d assumed that the child was his. Apparently, so had Reverend Thompson. But what did the man look like? Was he redheaded? Did he have light eyes? If he did, then all J.C.’s imaginings about the child might be completely wrong.
He was surprised at how disappointing the thought was.