Indivisible. Part 19

"Me? I think you're cute. He thinks you're scary."

Jonah looked at the trays set around the tables. "What is this? What are you doing?"

"Baking."

"With ... Miles?"

"He says what he thinks. He's the perfect judge."

"He's violent and destructive."

"Not intentionally."

"Does that matter?" he pressed. "One touch can set him off. Then he tears up Sarge's place and where are we?"

"So it's about Sarge?" She folded her arms.

"It's about I want to talk to him."

"I'm working on that."

He eyed her, perplexed. What part of dangerous didn't she get? "What do you mean?"

"I'm working him up to it, little by little."

"Great progress you've made."

She put her hands on her hips. "Look. He's nice. He's funny. I like him."

"Do you know his last name?"

"He doesn't want to say."

"Does that tell you something?"

"So he's paranoid. He probably has reason to be." She reached down for a tart. "Try this?"

"Piper. I'm trying to get to the bottom of some troubling things."

"I know. That dead animal stuff."

He frowned. "What has Tia told you?"

"Only what you told her. I've asked around, but no one else has any idea what's going on."

"You've asked around?"

"You're only one guy."

"I have a department."

"Sometimes people talk to me."

He c.o.c.ked his jaw. "So what, you crook your little finger and some Joe spills his guts about torturing animals?"

"Maybe." Her eyes were the color of blue cleary marbles and just as guileless.

He moved in close. "Then what? He asks if you want to see his laboratory?" He leaned. "But hey. He might be nice. He might be funny."

She stepped back, breathing quicker. "I was just trying to help."

"You can help by not getting in my way."

Her brows puckered. "Tia said you'd be this way. Guess she knows you pretty well."

"Then learn from her mistake." He turned and went out. The last thing he needed was Piper mucking around in his cases. He slammed the Bronco into gear and got halfway out of town before his phone rang. He activated the hands-free. "Yeah."

"Jonah, can we talk?"

"What's up, Sue?"

"Will you meet me at the station?"

He c.o.c.ked his jaw and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. Of course." He slowed the Bronco and made a U-turn, heading back the way he didn't want to go. He arrived before Sue and waited in his office, hoping she wasn't tendering her resignation. When she came in, he went around and sat on the edge of his desk. "What's up?" He'd seen her mad, but this was different.

"You were right. Sam's pa.s.sing the blame."

"I thought he might."

"I mean, come on. My mother? She weighs ninety pounds. And it's not just about Eli, Jonah." She looked away. "I was going to tell you-"

"I know."

She turned back. "You know I'm pregnant?"

"Congratulations."

She looked down at the floor, then back. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

He smiled.

"I don't know how I'll make it with another one on the way without Sam's income. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Not so much."

She chewed the cuticle of her left index finger, then realized it and lowered her hand. When she'd first started on the job, in the interest of professionalism, he'd suggested she break that habit. She mostly had.

"So this is what I know. There's a man named Greggor. I don't know if it's first, last, or nickname." She gave him what sketchy impressions she had, enough to have someone check it out. "That's all I know, and most of it I only suspect."

"It's a starting point."

She looked down. "He should not have messed with my child."

"Rule number one."

"I know it's wrong, but I wouldn't have turned him in."

"I know."

"I want my son back."

"You'll get him."

She drew a breath. "You said you'd vouch for me."

"I will."

She nodded. "How did you know?"

"That you were pregnant?"

"That Sam would turn on me." She raised her eyes.

"Takes a certain kind of man to hurt a child."

"He's that kind of man?"

Jonah held her eyes.

Tia looked around the circle of graying women. One was widowed, one divorced, all with kids mostly grown. She was younger than some by fifteen years and others by more than thirty. Although she cherished each one, if she'd been told her circle of friends at twenty-seven would be these older women, she'd have laughed long and hard.

First, she'd have pointed out, they would not approve of her. She was too wayward, too headstrong. They had little in common, and not one could claim to need salvation as she had. Not that they knew-the details anyway. They had lived quiet, pious lives, reached their middle and elder years with grace. How else could she explain their loveliness?

While there were women her age without kids or permanent relationships in Redford, within the Worship Chapel community she was an anomaly. The question came around to her, and she read the answer she had written the night before. Did they realize how vulnerable she made herself each time she shared an insight, how she slaved over each comment, leaving no opening for criticism?

One of the other women nodded. "Very thoughtful, Tia. Wanda?"

Only one had heard her story in all its ugliness, and she watched mildly from across the table as Tia rested her hands on the small notebook from which she'd read. Carolyn gave her a soft smile. Not a motherly smile-thank G.o.d. More otherworldly.

To spare Reba humiliation, her mother had not revealed the d.a.m.ning act to the mult.i.tudes. Tia could have kept the secret herself, but she had laid it before Carolyn as proof that she should not be admitted into any fellowship. Carolyn had insisted she was wrong. "There is no stain that cannot be washed in the blood of the Lamb." "There is no stain that cannot be washed in the blood of the Lamb."

To have these women look at her without condemnation, she attended services, served on committees, came to studies, kept her vow, a vow she'd made before G.o.d in Carolyn's presence. She needed what they had to give, these friends and mentors. She would not disappoint.

"Will you read the next pa.s.sage?" Carolyn asked.

Tia read, her voice clear, her heart full. She wanted it all to be true. Their discussion lasted two hours. When they had cleared the brownie plates and teacups, gathered their study materials and coats, Carolyn murmured, "Hold on a minute, okay?"

Feeling as though she'd been retained by a teacher for misbehavior, Tia hung back. The day had turned cold, and Carolyn shut the door after the last of the other ladies left. "You seem pensive today."

"Do I?"

"Is your leg hurting?"

"A lot, surprisingly." She leaned on the inner door frame to shift her weight. "Makes me realize I'm not so tough after all."

Carolyn smiled. "Something we all need from time to time. How's the Hopeline?"

"Five or six calls a week. Mostly at night."

"It's been three years?"

"Almost four."

"Repeats?"

"I try not to notice."

"We could be counting that time toward your license."

"I know."

"I hate to see you wasting your education. You'd do a lot of good with a counseling practice."

Tia shrugged. "For now, the Hopeline is enough."

Carolyn hesitated, then said, "Rosemary saw the police chief take you home last night."

Tia's smile faded. "I took a Percocet, and it knocked me out. Piper got worried and called him."

After a while, Carolyn nodded. "If you ever need to talk ..."

"Thanks. I will."

"Friends can help."

Something she was only now learning. She had burned out her childhood friends with her energetic nature. Or else their parents had thought her a bad influence. It was laughable the things people had thought she'd done. Cheating, vandalism, scoring boys.

She was one of the smartest kids in the school. Why would she cheat? The vandalism accusation had angered her because she didn't mess up people's things. They had no proof to make it stick, so she hadn't been punished, but the suspicion remained. And boys? Maybe if she had not been so hung up on ...

She sighed. "I'm okay, Carolyn, just numbed by the pain meds."

"Of course. I'm so glad you came anyway."

It was expected, wasn't it? She'd committed to the group. "Me too."

They hugged. Tia went out.

Mary Carson was waiting outside. "I noticed that you walked over."