“Lie upon lie, secret upon secret,” Jeanette muttered. “Sin upon sin…”

Matt reached across the table for her hand. “I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I’d give anything to go back in time and make this right, for Eric and for you, to do what I should have done.”

She stared at him for a long thoughtful moment. “I believe you would.”

“Momma?” Tim spoke up. “What are we going to do now?” He waved the gun as if to remind her he still had it. “You see any point in shooting him?”

Jeanette sighed. “Hell, I guess I don’t want anyone to die. But I did want someone to answer for what happened to Eric. I guess you’ve done that, best as anyone can.”

“I think the ones we need to be shootin’ are Kimmie and Mrs. Taylor,” Tim said.

“We’re not shootin’ anyone. Let it go, son.” Jeanette stood. “It’s time to just let it go. We got some answers, that’s more than we had yesterday.”

“What about them?” Tim waved the gun at Matt and Dorsey. “We just let them go?”

“Yes, and put that damned gun away.”

“How do you figure we’re gonna get out of here without them”-Tim pointed toward the yard-“blowin’ our heads off?”

“I can take care of that, if you’ll give me my bag,” Dorsey said.

Jeanette handed over the bag and Dorsey searched inside for her cell. She dialed Andrew’s number.

“Tell everyone to stand down. This has all been a big misunderstanding. We’re all coming out now, and I want your promise that Mrs. Beale will be free to leave, and that no charges will be filed against her or Tim.”

“Are you kidding?” a skeptical Andrew asked.

“No, I’m not kidding.”

“Are you sure everything’s all right? They’re not making you say this at gunpoint?”

“No, it’s fine. I swear it.”

“All right. I’ll take care of it, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Thanks, Andrew.” Dorsey hung up and turned to Mrs. Beale. “He just needs a minute to get everyone calmed down.”

She looked at the gun Tim was still holding. “You plannin’ on puttin’ that away before we open the door? Someone might get the wrong idea, they see you walkin’ out with that thing in your hand.”

“How do I know you’re not trickin’ us?” Tim asked Dorsey.

“Agent Shields gave me his word. He’ll keep it.”

“Don’t know that I’m ready to trust you. Either of you.”

“Then you can sit in here on your butt by yourself,” Jeanette told him. “I’m goin’ out with them.”

She stood and handed over Dorsey’s gun. Dorsey slipped it into her bag.

“You satisfied?” Jeanette turned to Tim. “If she was going to do something, she’d have turned that gun on me right then and there.” She softened slightly. “Put it away, son, untie the man, and let’s go.”

Tim reluctantly did as he was told, removed the cords from Matt’s wrists, then put his gun in one of the kitchen drawers and opened the door. He turned back to Matt and asked, “You comin’ with us?”

“I’m right beside you.” Matt gratefully followed Tim out of the trailer, followed by Dorsey and Jeanette.

Dorsey looped her hand through Jeanette’s arm as they crossed the yard, the entire gathering of law enforcement watching for one misstep on the part of either of the Beales. When Dorsey reached Andrew, she said, “Have you met Mrs. Beale?”

“Not formally. Andrew Shields.” He shook her hand. “We’re all so sorry for what happened. Believe me when I tell you that any one of us would do anything to undo this.”

“That’s pretty much what Matt said, back in there.” Jeanette nodded slowly. “I appreciate that.”

“Dorsey, the county sheriff is down there and he wants to know what we’re charging them with,” John Mancini asked as he approached.

Jeanette Beale went white.

“They’re not being charged,” she said, and as she turned, the sheriff walked up with his hands on his hips.

Before he could say a word, Dorsey told him, “This has all gotten out of hand. No one had any intention of hurting anyone. Tim and his mother just wanted some time to speak with my father without being disturbed. All the press here spooked them, and they had questions they wanted to ask.” She gave him her best smile, then turned to John and said, “And Mrs. Beale provided us with some important information. I’m pretty sure I know how it all went down back then, thanks to her.”

John and Andrew pretended they didn’t see Jeanette’s eyebrows raised in question.

“So you’re telling me that boy threatened to put a bullet in your father’s head just so he could have some time to talk?” The sheriff wasn’t buying it.

“That was all blown out of proportion,” Dorsey assured him calmly. “There was never any real danger.”

“I think we’re fine here, Sheriff.” John extended his hand to the man and shook it soundly. “I appreciate your backup. Sorry to have called you out on a false alarm.”

“Right.” The sheriff shook his head as he walked back to the road.

“Mrs. Beale, please introduce me to your son.” John took Jeanette’s arm. “He’s right over here with Matt and a few of our other agents.”

Dorsey started to follow, but Andrew grabbed her arm.

“I want you to know I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t have cut you out if I’d had a choice.”

She waved off his apology. “It worked out okay. I understand the position you were in.”

“So you think you have the whole case worked out?”

“I am ninety-nine percent certain.”

“Want to tell me about it over dinner?”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s four in the afternoon.”

He shrugged. “We’ll be just in time for the early-bird special at the diner in town.”

Dorsey laughed. “My father-”

“Is more than welcome to join us.”

“I’ll ask him what his plans are.” She started toward her father, but the reporter who’d stopped her earlier was there when she turned around.

“Was the FBI trying to hide your presence in Hatton because your father was involved in the original Shannon Randall case? Wouldn’t you call that a conflict of interest?”

She walked past him without responding, but he followed.

“You’re not denying that you’re Matthew Ranieri’s daughter, right? What part did you play in the investigation? How can you justify not telling anyone here in Hatton that you’re really Dorsey Ranieri?”

She continued to ignore him even as he persisted. John realized what was going on and calmly reached out to the reporter. Nodding to Dorsey to continue on her way, John told the reporter, “This is an ongoing federal investigation, so I’d appreciate you not trying to question my agents when they’re not permitted to respond. Thanks for your time.”

Dorsey mouthed a thank you to John as she reached her father. She tapped him on the shoulder.

“Pop, do you have your phone on you?”

“Yes.” He patted his pocket. “Why?”

“Use it,” she told him. “Call Diane and let her know you’re okay. She’s been worried. Oh, and Pop?”

He paused before he dialed and looked up at his daughter.

“Tell her I said thanks.”