Redemption Chapter Eleven
Tidwell didn’t trust Molly Harper, despite the Spencers speaking up for her. When he looked into her eyes, a sense of deja vu washed over him. He couldn’t very well put his finger on why, but he learned a long time ago to trust his gut.
Richard Tidwell had been the Sheriff for over fifteen years. The Mommy Murders had been the worst thing on his docket as a deputy before he’d been elected as Sheriff. He hoped never to have anything like that come through his town again. Hit and runs were just as rare as sadistic serial killers. Bellefort was a small fishing town with people who took care of each other. Domestic disturbances and drunken disorderly were generally the most exciting things the town got to see.
He liked to keep it that way.
Sure, they had their share of tourists, but they were mostly retirees looking for a scenic view, not a young woman coming through town to take pictures. He didn’t buy what Molly Harper was selling. The fact she’d showed up the same day as the execution also put him out.
He sat down in the plush leather chair behind his cherry wood desk and put his hat down on the smooth, unmarred surface. The chair squeaked when he leaned back. Lacing his fingers behind his head, Tidwell closed his eyes, trying to sort out his thoughts. Before he got to do so, Esther, the Sheriff’s dispatcher walked in.
“Richie,” she said easily. “Got a hit on that Harper girl. She doesn’t have any warrant or records, but the hospital sent over an emergency contact.” She put the folder on the desk. “Thomas Young.”
Opening his eyes, Tidwell took the file, flipping it open.
“Thanks, Esther.”
She smiled, the wrinkles in her skin crinkling up more. Adjusting her silver bun, she turned and walked out.
The file didn’t have much, other than the fact that Thomas Young had been hit up on a few misdemeanors. Nothing serious. Molly didn’t mention him at the hospital. It left Tidwell curious. Either she lied about having no one, or she didn’t want this Young fellow to find her.
It raised several flags. Seemed Molly might be hiding—or at the very least running. He didn’t want her past to put a good family through any more pain. The Spencers’d had enough of that already.
Despite Corbett’s issues with him, Tidwell tried to watch out for the Spencer family. He caught Aidan smoking pot behind the old cannery once. Let him go with a warning. Corbett’s anger was justified. Tidwell had been a hot headed deputy, and maybe if he’d have listened to instincts, instead of doing what the previous Sheriff said, Marion Spencer would still be alive.
Shaking his head, Tidwell rid himself of the thoughts. Nothing he could do about the past. All he could do was tend the present, and do his best to keep his town safe. Blake’s execution brought the media sniffing around, but they quickly moved on to other families after Tidwell warned them off. A few of the others were willing to speak, but not the Spencers. They never talked about it with anyone.
He still found it to be too much of coincidence that Molly showed up in town the same day as someone almost hit Cody Spencer, not to mention Peter Blake’s execution. Maybe this Thomas guy followed her. A woman running wasn’t news. Especially not when it came to a man, but if she brought that trouble to his town, it would be something he had to clean up. He didn’t want anyone else getting hurt—not even Molly. Mostly though, he didn’t want an innocent bystander getting hurt because this stranger didn’t have enough sense to come clean with the truth of things.
He rubbed his face, calloused hands running over the five o’clock shadow. The leather chair squeaked as he leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.
“Richie?” Esther came to the door again. “That pestering reporter from Raleigh’s back.”
Lacey Jones. She’d been trying to get information out of the victims that still resided around town. So far, Tidwell’s deputies kept her away—which she didn’t much like, but freedom of the press meant he could only stall her for so long. He sighed heavily. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a reporter in all of this.
“Send her in.”
Lacey walked in wearing a red pantsuit with a cream blouse. She had her hair in a sleek ponytail, her makeup impeccable.
“Hello Sheriff.”
“Miss Jones,” he inclined his head and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “How can I help you today?”
She sat down, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaned back, placing a folder on her slim lap. “I’m here for the report on the hit and run. The official report of course, and if you have anything else to add that would be great.
“I thought you were in town about the execution.”
“I’m not getting anywhere on that. The Spencers are the only family that stayed around. Everyone else moved away—and Jesse Blake hasn’t been seen since she was a girl.”
“And so you thought you’d poke your nose around the accident instead?” He rested his folded hands on his slightly rounded belly.
She smiled, her lips colored the same red as the dress. “I need to have something to give my editor, or he’s going to be pissed I used time and resources on nothing.”
“Suppose he should have thought about that before he sent you out here.”
“There’s always a risk, but I found another nugget.”
“Molly Harper.” He gave a slight nod, jaw clenching.
“She doesn’t live around here does she,” Lacey asked.
“I’m sure that’s simple enough for you to find out on your own.”
She leaned forward. “Come on now, Sheriff. You can’t tell me you think it’s a coincidence. The day of the execution there’s a hit run that involves a tourist in town.”
Miss Jones cast the line, baiting him, hoping to catch a whopper. He smiled politely and shrugged. “I haven’t found any connections as of yet. Of course if you’ve found something…”
She held up the folder. “In fact, I have.”
His eyebrows rose up. “And what do you think you’ve found?”
“Well, I’m not required to disclose this information to you.” Her lip pulled up on the side in a knowing manner. “But I figure we can trade a bit. Fair is fair.”
Leaning over he took the folder from her. “If there’s something here, maybe we’ll talk about reciprocation.”
Even though Esther gave him the file only a few moments ago, he didn’t want to give it over to Miss Jones. Not that he didn’t trust her, but he didn’t want anyone jumping to conclusions. He still didn’t know what it meant yet.
“It’s a Juvie record for Molly Harper. Joy riding. She wasn’t the driver, but before she did any time the case was dropped and the file sealed.”
“And how did you get it then?”
She shrugged. “I’ve got people who owe me favors.”
“I don’t doubt that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a soft sigh.
“Not long after that she boosted a car herself, and about a year later, truancy.”
He flipped through the file. “But she never did any time.”
“None,” Lacey said. “It all just kept going away. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
It did indeed. Either Molly had a friend in the judicial system or there was another piece to the puzzle Tidwell didn’t have yet. “Well then, if this turns out to be anything, I’ll get back to you.”
“Come on Sheriff.” She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk. “You can’t even give me the slightest bit of details?”
He stood up and walked over, opening his office door. “We’ll be in touch.”
Getting up, she walked over, heels clacking on the wood floor. “You’re such a hard ass.”
“Been called worse.”
She went to take the folder from his hands. He held it up, out of her reach.
“I’ll hold onto this,” he said. “It’s now part of an ongoing investigation.”
Stopping, she put a hand on her hip, smiled, and shook her head. “I should have known.”
“Probably.” He offered her a smile in return, eyes twinkling in amusement. As an expert fisherman himself, he knew how to deal with someone else trying to encroach on his water.
Sighing she stepped out. “Talk to you soon, Sheriff.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
