“You served as assistant pastor?”

“I did. I assisted my father in every way I could. He was starting to slow down back then, you see. It was his dream-and mine-that I gradually take over for him. The plan was that someday, we’d reverse roles, and I’d be taking the lead and he’d be assisting me.” He appeared totally defeated now. “That wasn’t to be for long, as you can see.”

“Surely you could have continued to preach…?”

“I was in therapy for a very long time after my accident, Agent Shields. The church needed someone who could fully minister to the congregation. Thank God my Paula Rose was ready and able to step in and serve.”

“Did your father spend a lot of time in the company of your daughter, Mr. Randall?” Andrew asked pointedly.

“Of course he did. Shannon helped out in the office.”

“Alone?”

“Well, certainly, she sometimes-” He stopped in midsentence as Andrew’s meaning became clear. His eyes narrowed and he gripped the arms of his chair with knuckles that had gone white. “My father was a man of God, Agent Shields. I won’t have you maligning his name. He no more would have done such a thing than I would have.”

“Are you willing to take a lie detector test, Mr. Randall?” Andrew asked coolly.

“Get out of my house,” Franklin said darkly. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.”

“I’ll be asking formally for the test.” Andrew stood. “In the meantime, if you think of anyone else I should talk to, you have my card.”

Andrew turned and left the room, and the magazine Franklin flung after him hit the doorjamb and flopped to the floor.

16

“Agent Shields.” Judith stood near the front door, gazing out, watching as the last of the reporters packed up and left.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Andrew attempted to walk around her to get to the door, but she placed one hand on his arm to detain him. He held his breath. If she’d heard any of the conversation he’d just had with Franklin, she’d be unloading on him all over again.

“I was thinking about what you said when you were here last time. Wondering if maybe Shannon had tried to contact us and we didn’t realize it.” She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “I snapped at you, threw you out of my house.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Randall. I understand that you’ve been through a lot-” He opened the door to leave.

“I’m thinking maybe I reacted a little too hastily. Should have thought that through some before I jumped all over you.” She followed him out onto the porch, still holding on. “I’m thinking now maybe…at least, I’ve been wondering if maybe…”

“Maybe?” He paused at the steps. Apparently she hadn’t overheard his conversation with her husband after all.

“Maybe she did try, and we just didn’t know.” Another hard swallow. “There were hang-up calls, but you know, everyone gets those. Wrong numbers and such. But there were times when it seemed that whoever was on the other end stayed on for longer than you’d expect for a wrong number. Well, I always figured those for kids playing a prank, you know how they do? I’m wondering now if…do you think that maybe…”

“I think it’s possible, in retrospect. I think if you were my mother and I was far from home, I’d reach out to you,” he said as he patted the hand that gripped his arm.

“There was something else, I’m wondering now if maybe it should have made me think a little. Maybe I should have given more thought to it at the time.”

“What was that?”

“For a while there, envelopes came to the house that had just a tiny something in it, if anything at all.”

“What kind of things?”

“One time it was a little white clover flower.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Most times it was nothing at all.”

“Do you remember where they were postmarked?”

“The one with the little flower was from Nashville. I remember that one because I always wanted to go there, never did. Didn’t know anyone there, either.” She forced a half-smile. “I always used to say that in my next life, I was going to come back as a country-western singer. That I was going to sing at the Grand Ole Opry.”

“Do you remember where the others were from?”

“Not really. Just places.” She was crying now, tears spilling onto her face. “There was a postcard from Memphis once. It came on my birthday, about eight years ago. It had a picture of Graceland on the front. The girls used to tease me because I’d told them I was a big Elvis fan back when I was just a girl.”

“Did you recognize the handwriting?”

“No. It wasn’t Shannon ’s, if that’s what you mean. I would have recognized that. I would have known.”

“When did you receive the last envelope?”

“Oh, it’s been some time now.” She gazed upward as if searching for the answer. “Maybe four years or so.”

“And the phone calls? Do you remember the last time someone called and hung up?”

“Oh, it seems we always get those, but maybe just a few months back there was one like the others. Like someone was there and didn’t want to hang up but they wouldn’t speak.” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t that have been something, if that had been Shannon?”

“Mrs. Randall…the empty envelopes. Who did you think they were from?” Andrew couldn’t help but ask.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think much about them at all. I just figured someone had sent us something and it had fallen out because it wasn’t sealed in the back. The flaps were tucked inside the envelope, not sealed.”

“How often did these envelopes arrive?”

“Oh, every few years or so. Not frequent enough that it would make me think about it so much.” She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her face. “Though that clover…that did make me wonder some. It never occurred to me that it could have been from her, that she could still be alive. But it should have made me think just a little.”

It was the second time she’d used that phrase.

“Think about what?”

“ Shannon always made those little clover chains, you know? She used to fashion them in a big circle and I’d have to wear it on my head.” Judith was openly weeping. “She used to say I was the clover queen, and she was my princess…”

Andrew took a step toward her, to comfort her, when Franklin appeared in the doorway.

“I told you to leave! Get the hell away from my wife. Get off my property!” He banged furiously at the closed screen door. “Judith, get in this house immediately! Do not speak to that man!”

“ Franklin, what on earth…” Judith turned to her husband.

“Thank you, Mrs. Randall, for sharing your recollections with me,” Andrew said quietly.

“You stay away from my wife, stay away from my family!” Franklin rolled his chair out onto the porch and wheeled past his stunned wife. “You hear me? Bastard!”

With Franklin Randall’s curses following him all the way to the end of the block, Andrew was more than happy to reach his car and escape the harsh aftermath of his interview with the man. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. He could have sworn he could still hear Franklin yelling.

He turned on the radio to drown out the voice ringing in his ears, but it didn’t help, so he snapped it off. Suddenly, he felt very tired, and wished he was home. Or if not home, then someplace, anyplace, where kids weren’t abused by people who were supposed to love and protect them, where kids didn’t cut themselves, didn’t prostitute themselves, didn’t give up bright futures in attempts to bury their horrible pasts.

He drove through quiet Hatton, his stomach rumbling. He called Dorsey to let her know he was on his way back and was grateful to learn she had in fact saved him some pizza. He parked his car in a space between her room and his and ignored the reporters who’d returned to the motel in hopes of getting some extra tidbit from him. He walked toward her room, prepared to knock, but when he raised his hand to the door, she opened it while keeping out of sight.