mostly to conceal the new rush of uncertainty at his hasty decision. Maybe a hotel would have been the smart way to go. “My folks are in Vegas for their anniversary and I know they would want you to make yourself at home at their place.” He’d gotten out the whole spiel and she hadn’t tried interrupting once. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
The longer she stood there staring at him, the stronger the taste of shoe heel got. Evidently he had stuck his foot fully into his mouth with the offer. Did their history as lovers preclude any possibility of being friends?
As if the offer had suddenly penetrated her thoughts she shrugged. “That works.” She hauled her bag onto her shoulder, then frowned. “Does your mother know I’ll be staying at her house?”
The question was delivered with aplomb, but like the profiles she created the motive was all too clear. Twenty years and Jess still hated his mother. “My mother wouldn’t have it any other way.” If she knew .
Suspicion narrowed Jess’s gaze. “You don’t live there, do you?”
He smiled, felt more like a flinch. At least he knew where he rated on her opinion poll. “No.” He motioned to the door, “Let’s go, Agent Harris.”
Chapter Four
Mountain Brook Methodist Church, 8:15 p.m.
“That’s Reanne Parsons’ mother.” Detective Wells directed Jess’s attention to the petite woman in the white blouse and pink skirt. “Her father didn’t come.”
Jess studied the woman deep in conversation with Chief Patterson near the podium that had been set up for the occasion. Mrs. Parsons stood small and frail, nothing like the tall, athletic build of her daughter Reanne. The red hair was lighter, almost a strawberry blond. She wore it high atop her head in an old fashioned bee-hive do. The hem of her skirt fell well below her knees and the sleeves of her blouse were long no matter that the temperature outside still hovered around eighty-five degrees.
“Why didn’t her husband come?” Grief, possibly. But this was a prayer service for his missing daughter and three others. A show of faith and strength to the general public in hopes of garnering information from anyone who might have seen or heard something about one or more of the missing girls. Strange that he would be a no-show.
“One of Patterson’s deputies said he overheard the wife say her husband was very ill. This is the second tragedy the family has experienced this year. They lost everything in the April tornadoes.”
Jess remembered well that devastating day in April. She’d worried about her sister and her family. And Dan, though she would never admit that out loud. She’d had one of her colleagues check in on him twice that day. Just because she no longer felt the way she used to about him didn’t mean she didn’t care what happened to him. Those crazy emotions that had been playing havoc with her ability to think the past forty-eight hours tried to resurface.
She mentally hit delete and filled her mind with lines and lines of information from the numerous statements and reports she had reviewed. Wells had pointed out the families of three of the missing girls. Andrea Denton’s family hadn’t arrived but was, according to Burnett, on the way. Significant friends of all four girls had gathered to hear various clergymen representing the community offer hope and solace. The service took place in the enormous main chapel, the subtle music and expansive stained glass windows setting a somber tone.
Reanne’s father and the delayed Dentons had missed an emotionally-wrenching forty-five minutes. Afterward the crowd was herded here, the praise and worship hall, for refreshments. That part, Jess had learned, was Burnett’s idea. He hoped the stirred emotions combined with the spiritual setting might prompt someone to come forward with information during this less formal gathering. Sort of like those who often threw themselves before a minister whose thunderous
The longer she stood there staring at him, the stronger the taste of shoe heel got. Evidently he had stuck his foot fully into his mouth with the offer. Did their history as lovers preclude any possibility of being friends?
As if the offer had suddenly penetrated her thoughts she shrugged. “That works.” She hauled her bag onto her shoulder, then frowned. “Does your mother know I’ll be staying at her house?”
The question was delivered with aplomb, but like the profiles she created the motive was all too clear. Twenty years and Jess still hated his mother. “My mother wouldn’t have it any other way.” If she knew .
Suspicion narrowed Jess’s gaze. “You don’t live there, do you?”
He smiled, felt more like a flinch. At least he knew where he rated on her opinion poll. “No.” He motioned to the door, “Let’s go, Agent Harris.”
Chapter Four
Mountain Brook Methodist Church, 8:15 p.m.
“That’s Reanne Parsons’ mother.” Detective Wells directed Jess’s attention to the petite woman in the white blouse and pink skirt. “Her father didn’t come.”
Jess studied the woman deep in conversation with Chief Patterson near the podium that had been set up for the occasion. Mrs. Parsons stood small and frail, nothing like the tall, athletic build of her daughter Reanne. The red hair was lighter, almost a strawberry blond. She wore it high atop her head in an old fashioned bee-hive do. The hem of her skirt fell well below her knees and the sleeves of her blouse were long no matter that the temperature outside still hovered around eighty-five degrees.
“Why didn’t her husband come?” Grief, possibly. But this was a prayer service for his missing daughter and three others. A show of faith and strength to the general public in hopes of garnering information from anyone who might have seen or heard something about one or more of the missing girls. Strange that he would be a no-show.
“One of Patterson’s deputies said he overheard the wife say her husband was very ill. This is the second tragedy the family has experienced this year. They lost everything in the April tornadoes.”
Jess remembered well that devastating day in April. She’d worried about her sister and her family. And Dan, though she would never admit that out loud. She’d had one of her colleagues check in on him twice that day. Just because she no longer felt the way she used to about him didn’t mean she didn’t care what happened to him. Those crazy emotions that had been playing havoc with her ability to think the past forty-eight hours tried to resurface.
She mentally hit delete and filled her mind with lines and lines of information from the numerous statements and reports she had reviewed. Wells had pointed out the families of three of the missing girls. Andrea Denton’s family hadn’t arrived but was, according to Burnett, on the way. Significant friends of all four girls had gathered to hear various clergymen representing the community offer hope and solace. The service took place in the enormous main chapel, the subtle music and expansive stained glass windows setting a somber tone.
Reanne’s father and the delayed Dentons had missed an emotionally-wrenching forty-five minutes. Afterward the crowd was herded here, the praise and worship hall, for refreshments. That part, Jess had learned, was Burnett’s idea. He hoped the stirred emotions combined with the spiritual setting might prompt someone to come forward with information during this less formal gathering. Sort of like those who often threw themselves before a minister whose thunderous
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