In one chaotic moment Jody heard her uncle call her name over the phone, dropped the cell phone onto the cement walkway, and realized she was looking straight at Billy Crosby, who was coming up toward Bailey’s with Valentine and a tall good-looking man who could only be their son Collin.

“Dad,” the younger man said, “we’re here, aren’t we?”

Jody bent to pick up her phone and saw that she had cracked its case. She opened it with fumbling fingers and said, “Uncle Chase, I’ve got to go. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She clicked the phone shut before finding out if it was even still working.

She didn’t know what to do next.

They were coming closer.

He looked about five foot ten and muscular, as if there’d been a weight room at the prison and he had used it often. His hairline was receding at his temples but his hair was still dark with no visible gray. It was a shock to see he looked no older than her uncles. She realized that in the last few years she’d started picturing Billy Crosby as an old man, worn-down and neutered by prison. This man coming toward her was nothing like that; he looked full of hunger, anger, and testosterone. She’d heard he was considered good-looking by some women, and she supposed the same kind of woman would think that now, too, but all she saw was a top-heavy man with big shoulders and biceps and a pinched, aggressive expression on his face. He had on sneakers, blue jeans, and a black T-shirt, and it all looked new.

Collin looked up and saw her standing there.

He put a restraining hand on his father’s arm, but Billy shook it off.

Collin was taller than his dad, Jody saw, a bigger man altogether, and he didn’t look overjoyed to have his father home from prison. Jody barely noticed Valentine.

She had eyes only for the father and the son.

“What the hell is she looking at?” Billy said, nodding toward Jody as they came closer still. “People think I’m some kind of fucking tourist attraction? Like them rocks you wouldn’t take me out to see!” He put on a falsetto, like a crazily enthusiastic girl, and waved his hands in the air: “Fly your freak flag, Billy!” Then he raised an eyebrow and smirked in Jody’s direction. “I see the girls have gotten better lookin’ since I was here. You know that girl, Collin? She’s lookin’ at you.”

“Shut up, Dad. For God’s sake, shut up.”

Such a powerful surge of reaction went through Jody that she thought if she’d had a gun she would have used it. Every bit of information she’d heard that day that purported to exonerate this man fled from her brain and her heart. All she could remember at this moment was how he had haunted her nightmares, how she had grown up hating him, how one violent night had devastated her family, and how terribly much she missed and longed for her parents. Her next impulse was to turn and run. No, she thought, and stood her ground until the trio were only a few feet away from her. She stepped to her right then so that she was in the center of the sidewalk, blocking their path into the tavern. Any warnings she’d heard that day, any fear she’d previously felt, vanished as if they had never happened. He wasn’t getting by her without acknowledging her. He wasn’t.

“You the bouncer?” he joked, right in front of her.

“Jody,” Collin said, and then, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not the bouncer,” she said, looking straight into eyes that hurt her to see. “I’m Hugh-Jay and Laurie’s daughter. I’m Jody Linder.” She raised her eyes to look at Collin. “Why did you do this? Why?” she asked him.

“You’re a Linder?” his father said, stepping even closer.

“Dad, you touch her and I’ll kill you myself.”

“I’m not gonna touch her.”

“I’m not ‘a’ Linder,” she said to him. “I’m ‘the’ Linder. I’m the kid you left without any parents.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to either of your parents.”

She wanted to beat on him and scream at him, What did you do with my mother? Instead, she stared as he looked threateningly at her.

“You tell your wicked old grandfather that I don’t forgive. Him and those sons of his put me in prison for things I never did, just ’cause they could. You tell them Billy Crosby ain’t never going to forgive or forget.”

Jody looked from him to his son as coolly as she had it in her to do.

“I’m never going to forgive or forget, either,” she said, staring straight at Billy Crosby’s son.

Praying she wouldn’t trip, praying her legs still worked and would carry her, Jody slowly turned and walked at a steady pace to her truck. From inside of it, she watched the three of them go into the tavern. For a moment Collin hung back, looking at her, and then he followed his parents inside. She thought bitterly that Bailey would probably be happy to serve them pork tenderloin sandwiches for dinner. Since business was so bad, even murderers were welcome if they brought cash.

Her hands shook on the steering wheel all the way to the ranch, and her foot trembled on the gas pedal as if she had palsy. It got so bad that she stalled out the truck a couple of times and had to roll to the shoulder to start it up again. As she finally neared the ranch’s front gate, she drove past the two-bedroom house where Red Bosch lived free, one of the perks of working full-time for her grandfather, and also one of the disadvantages. To hide her visits, they resorted to putting her truck in the garage and closing the door on it. Jody saw that the garage door was open to let his dog in, as it always was if she wasn’t there. She thought about stopping to tell him about Crosby -and how right Red had been about the Rocks and the pork tenderloin at Bailey’s-but she decided not to delay seeing her family.

Inside the gate, just after she turned in, she opened her truck door, leaned over and threw up in the grass.

29

THE HENDERSON COUNTY sheriff’s SUV was parked in front of the house when Jody drove up. She took a quick swig of water from the bottle in her truck-water that was tepid now-swished it around her mouth and spat it out. Then she popped in a couple of breath mints, and hurried to the kitchen door with the milk in both hands. Once inside the kitchen, she put one half gallon into the refrigerator, then went up to her grandmother-who stood at the stove turning over pieces of chicken with a long fork-kissed her on the cheek and set down the other half gallon on a countertop near her. She still wanted to say, Why didn’t you let me go with you to see the governor? Instead, she held back again.

Forcing herself to sound normal, she said, “Am I in time for the gravy?”

“Just right.” Her grandmother gave her a tired smile. “Go listen to what the sheriff is saying and come back and tell me.”

“Would you rather that I stir and you go?”

Annabelle shook her head. “No. I might say something I’ll regret.”

“You? To the sheriff? Why?”

“Just go on.”

Obediently, Jody followed the sound of a male voice coming from the direction of the living room. She passed through the dining room, where plates, napkins, and silverware were stacked, waiting to be placed around the big oak table with its man-sized upholstered chairs. Surprised to find that it wasn’t set yet-with her grandmother so far along toward finishing supper-Jody surmised that the sheriff’s visit was unexpected and interrupted the routine.

When she walked into the living room, she saw Sheriff Don Phelps standing beside the oak coffee table in front of the couch that her grandmother had recently redone in yellow silk to match the elegant floral print of her armchairs. It was a beautiful, feminine room, a contrast to the more traditional western appearance of the family room, her grandfather’s office, and the study that the men used more often, and where the decor ran more toward brown leather and dark wood.