Lies That Bind

Following the signs to the public meeting room, April wasn’t surprised to find it almost full. Glancing at her watch, she saw Jack was scheduled to begin his talk in a few moments. Taking a chair in the last row, she leaned back. She was tired, but she might as well rest here as at home. At least she’d be entertained and feel less guilty for not helping Eliza more.

JACK HOBBLED to the chair before the small table and sat down. He’d walked over from Sam’s place and his leg was throbbing. The librarian introduced him and he nodded, letting his gaze travel around the room. It was crowded. He wouldn’t have thought this many people in Maraville would be interested in anything he had to say.

There were the older people he’d expected. Sam had stopped by. He saw several other men their age, and some teenagers. In the back of the room his regard paused a moment on one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Blond hair seemed to float around her head. Even from this distance he could see the deep blue of her eyes. Probably a wife of one of the town’s leading citizens.

“Thank you for coming,” he began. “I didn’t expect such a turnout. Television often portrays news reporting as glamorous and exciting. I can attest to the exciting part, on occasion. But glamour is often missing.” He launched into the talk he’d roughed out the night before. He didn’t need notes. He knew what he had to say. He wanted these people to know how difficult it was to get unbiased information, and the hardships reporters and camera crews faced. He provided insights into what drove the men and women who reported the news, interspersing his lecture with incidents he or one of his friends had experienced. Sometimes he drew laughter. Sometimes he saw tears in the eyes of his audience. One teenager seemed to hang on his every word.

Finishing up, Jack asked if there were any questions.

“When are you giving another talk?” the teenager asked eagerly.

“Same time next week. I’ll cover a different aspect, so if you come back, you won’t hear the same thing.”

“Awesome,” the kid said, grinning.

He quickly answered other questions. Until Etta Williams announced the talk was over and the audience began to rise from their seats.

The librarian hurried over. “Thank you so much, Mr. Palmer. That was fascinating. I do appreciate your coming today. I can’t wait for next week.”

Jack nodded, wishing his foot didn’t hurt so much. Sitting still for so long only made it worse. Next week, if it wasn’t better, he’d have to request a stool or something to elevate it.

Sam came over to the table.

“Need a ride home?”

Jack nodded, and Sam said he’d pull the car around in front. Once he left, Jack rose and prepared to hobble outside. The teenager who had hung on his every word came up to ask more questions. Then one of the older men stopped him to talk about the way news was reported these days. Another woman thanked him for risking his life so Americans could know what was really going on.

The blonde from the back of the room hovered near the door. Jack made his way slowly toward her.

“Mr. Palmer,” she said, when he drew level with her.

He nodded. By this time, the two of them were the only ones left in the room.

“Yes?” He leaned heavily on his cane, willing the pain to go away.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee with me. I want to talk to you about something.”

“Someone’s waiting to give me a lift home,” he said, wondering how anyone could have eyes so clear and blue. She was on the thin side, almost as tall as he was. Was she interested in a reporter’s job? With her looks, she could be a TV anchor even if she didn’t have two thoughts to rub together. If she only read the reports, audiences in America would lap up the news.

“Another time then?” she said.

“What’s this about?” Despite her beauty, he couldn’t help her get a job.

“I’m April Jeffries.”

“Friend of Cade’s?” he asked, making the assumption. How many Aprils lived in Maraville? He’d noticed how people in the audience had eyed her, as if she wasn’t quite one of them. A certain level of curiosity would be normal if she’d been gone for twelve years and only returned for a visit.

“That’s right. How did you know?” She seemed startled.

“Instinct. What can I do for you, Miss Jeffries?”

“Call me April—everyone does. I want help in finding someone.”

“Jo?” He couldn’t do more than Sam could.

“You are tapped into the local grapevine. No, not Jo, as it happens. I understand Maddie already has a private detective working on that. I want help finding my birth parents.”

APRIL HAD MADE the decision to ask for help as she listened to Jack Palmer describe some of the ways he researched facts. She knew he reported from foreign locales, but the basics of investigative methods would be the same. Maybe he’d have some pointers for her on how to expand her search for her parents. She wasn’t sure what contacts reporters had, but if he could tap sources unavailable to the general public, it might help with her search.

She could tell from his expression she’d surprised him. What—had he thought she was some groupie wanting to cling to a famous reporter?

“I’m not into finding missing persons,” he said abruptly. “Try the sheriff’s office or Social Services. A private detective. Those are the kind of agencies who can help.” He headed out the door.

Stung by his curt response, April watched him go. “Don’t you think I’ve already tried all those avenues?” she muttered.

She was annoyed she’d asked him for help. He probably thought she was some dumb blonde who didn’t have a clue about anything. If so, he wouldn’t be the first to misjudge her that way.

As soon as he was out of sight, she left the meeting room. Returning to Maraville had awakened her longing to find out about her parents. She thought she had dealt with that issue years ago, yet here she was again, hoping for some clue that would lead to their identity. She realized now that the only closure would come from finding them.

She had her birth date to start with. It was listed on the state-issued delayed birth certificate she’d had to get when she first applied for a passport. Social services had registered it. The parents’ name fields had been “Unknown.” But from some of the stories Jack had told, he’d often started with less.

Maybe she should reconsider contracting the private detective who had traced her for Maddie. She’d have more confidence in the man’s abilities if he’d found Jo.

April headed for the main desk of the library. While she was here, she’d stop to speak with Etta Williams. The librarian had recommended books for April to read when she was younger. Would Etta remember the little girl she’d befriended so many years ago?

Etta was delighted to see her.

“I recognized you the minute you walked into the room, but didn’t have a chance to greet you. You look lovely, April. What have you been doing?”

April filled her in briefly and said she had come back to be with Maddie.

“It’s a shame about Maddie Oglethorpe. She didn’t deserve all the hardship she’s had in her life. I’m right glad you and Eliza have rallied around when she needs family. I do hope she makes a complete recovery. Tell her I asked after her, will you?”

“I’ll do that.”

“Need any books today?” Etta asked with a smile.

“I have a bunch of classics on my old bookshelf at the house,” April said, “so I thought I’d start rereading them. But if I get the urge for a mystery or something more recent, I’ll come back.”

“Anytime.” Etta smiled warmly. “I’m always glad to see you.”

Feeling a bit as though she’d stepped back in time, April left the library and continued her walk home. Family, Etta had said. Eliza had said that, as well. The three girls and Maddie made a family. Not a conventional one, not a biological one, but a family nonetheless.

However, April had always railed against Maddie’s restrictions, longing to see what was beyond the horizon. Now she’d done that, and found it was pretty much the same as anywhere else—still lonely without a family.

All her life she’d missed having relatives of her own. Why hadn’t she just appreciated the family she did have? The old saying, blood was thicker than water, wasn’t always true.

As she approached the house on Poppin Hill, her annoyance with Jack Palmer grew. He didn’t have to be so rude, dismissing her before he’d heard her out.

Okay, he had no obligation to help her. And at least he hadn’t tried to put the make on her the way most men did. She could almost respect him for that. But his attitude sucked.

Eliza was out when April reached home. She tried to remember whether her friend had a catering event, but there were so many she couldn’t keep them all straight. Bypassing the men working in the hall, she headed for the kitchen. An iced tea sounded perfect. As she was getting a large glass, she saw the note on the counter. Eliza and Betsy would be back soon and cook dinner on the grill. They’d gone to scope out the location for their next assignment.

April shook her head, still amazed her friend had started a business in Maraville when she’d only come back for a visit. She took her tea and headed for her room, doing her best to ignore the construction workers.

She could start reading one of her books, but she knew she’d fall asleep. If she didn’t get back to feeling like normal soon, she was going to see a doctor here in Maraville, or a specialist in New Orleans. She hated not having any energy.

Starting up the stairs, she glanced at the phone. Maybe she should try that private detective. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford him. And there was a chance he would be able to help her. It was worth a shot.

CHAPTER THREE

CADE WAS THE FIRST to show up later that afternoon. He rang the doorbell, but before April could get downstairs, he opened the door and walked in.

“Hi, Eliza home yet?” he asked when he spotted April.

It was late afternoon. Work had stopped on the renovations. The house was quiet and covered in dust.

April shook her head. “No, she and Betsy had to check out the location of some job coming up. She said they’d be home for dinner.”

“Sounds good. I think we’re grilling outside. Maybe I’ll start the coals.”

April followed Cade out to the backyard. There was a new stainless-steel barbecue grill on the worn, uneven brick patio. She knew Eliza or Cade must have bought it. Maddie would never use something like that.

“What did you do today?” Cade asked as he began to work.

“I went to see Maddie, then stopped at the library to hear Jack Palmer.”

“I wanted to get to that but got caught up in a meeting in New Orleans. I met him at Sam’s the other night.”

“Sam is the sheriff?” April remembered the old sheriff who had questioned Eliza and her years ago.

“Right,” Cade said. “He’s been here two years. Came from New Orleans.”

“Quite a change. Is he as stupid as Sheriff Halstead was?”

Cade glanced over. “Eliza doesn’t hold the old sheriff in high regard, either. Sam’s younger, seems smart enough to me. After he read the files, he told Eliza he thinks Maddie got a raw deal.”

“Well, duh.”

Cade laughed softly. “Can I get you something to drink?”

April looked at him and smiled. “Sure. I’ll go in with you. I’d love some iced tea.”

It was obvious Cade knew his way around the kitchen. He took down four glasses, filled two with ice and then poured tea from the large pitcher in the refrigerator.

“Sugar already in,” he said, handing her the drink.

Taking a long sip, she sighed. “Delicious. Hard to get it this good in France.” She glanced around. “How long will this renovation take?”

“The men should be finished the first floor by the end of next week. We’re starting the second floor next. Depending on how much work we find we need to do on the plumbing, that could take a while. Sooner or later you and Eliza are going to have to vacate your rooms so I can have bathrooms built. I want one en suite between every two bedrooms.”

“So tell me more about this project, and why Maddie is involved.”

“Remember my sister?” Cade asked.

April nodded. She was the one who had committed suicide the same day Jo had been beaten so badly.

Cade explained something that hadn’t been common knowledge at the time. His sister Chelsea had been pregnant when she killed herself. He thought part of her desperation was due to fear of the future and lack of support. He surprised April when he said he’d told Maddie about his proposal for a home for pregnant teens and the older woman had immediately latched on to the idea, offering the house on Poppin Hill as the perfect facility.

“Not everyone in town wants the home,” he added.

“Like the banker. Eliza told me about him. What I don’t understand is why he’s opposing Maddie. They were dating when I last lived here. What happened?”

“No one seems to know. Remember Edith Harper, Maddie’s friend?”

“I do.”

“She might know more, but if she does, she hasn’t told Eliza. Maybe you can get something out of her.”

“I’ll have to go visit her,” April said, looking at her glass. “It’s funny a lifelong spinster like Maddie would be interested in a home for unwed teens.”

“I think it gives her a purpose again. I want her to run it.”

“Even now? After the stroke?”

“If she can recover enough, sure. If not, then we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. The place should be ready by end of July. I’m hoping to get all the permits and approvals by August, so we can open for business.”

April asked him a few more questions, trying to get clear in her mind the scope of the project. She thought of Maddie raising three girls all the same age. Almost like raising triplets. Had she wanted to foster more children? Would the past accusations prevent her from taking charge of the home? She and Eliza were adults now. They could make new statements, and try to clear Maddie’s reputation.

She hoped the stroke wasn’t permanently incapacitating and that Maddie had her chance to run the home, but she had a long way to go before she’d be up to the task.

April heard a car in the driveway and went to the back door. It was a sheriff’s vehicle, pulling to a stop just as she reached the screen. A tall man climbed out, his dark hair gleaming in the sunshine. He looked tanned and fit. A deputy or the sheriff himself, she wasn’t sure, but a far cry from Sheriff Halstead and his paunch.

Cade joined her. “It’s Sam. I asked him if he could speed up the search for Jo. I hoped maybe he’d locate her while you were here.”

“Cops are looking for her?”

“As a favor only. They’ve got contacts unavailable to the rest of us.” Cade walked down to meet the man. “Hi, Sam.”

April stood in the door and watched. She glanced at the patrol car. Jack Palmer sat in the front seat. She turned and went back to the table. She’d had enough of that man to last her forever.

A moment later Cade and the sheriff entered the kitchen.

“April, Sam Witt,” Cade introduced. “Sam, April Jeffries.”

“Pleasure, ma’am.”

“Hello,” she said, wondering what his relationship was with Jack Palmer. The reporter had been in the front seat, so he couldn’t be under arrest. Too bad.

Sam put his hat on the table and pulled out a chair. Cade placed a full glass of iced tea in front of Sam a moment later.

“Guess you heard I’m searching for Jo Hunter,” Sam said to April after taking a swallow of the tea.

She nodded.

“Got any ideas where she might be?”

“I don’t even know where she was sent when we were split up.”

“She went to Meridian,” Sam told her. “Seems strange all three of you were sent so far apart, especially after being raised together most of your lives.”

“Seems strange we were sent anywhere,” April returned. “Jo blamed Maddie initially, but she said she told the truth later and no one would believe her.”

“Who did beat her?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. She never told us, but she was really angry with Maddie. The next day Social Services came in and we were shipped out. I never knew what happened to either of the others until Eliza called me a few weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t the official report say?” Cade asked, straddling a chair and studying Sam.

The sheriff shook his head. “The entire file is skimpy. Poor practices seemed to have been the norm with my predecessor. The notes only say Jo’s accusations grew more outrageous the more she talked.”

“Did anyone contact her foster family in Meridian?” April asked.

Sam nodded. “Seems Jo ran away within two months. They thought she’d tried to return to Maraville, but there isn’t anything in the records I could find to show that.”

“Maddie said she didn’t,” Cade said. He looked at April. “We talked about you girls a bit before she had her stroke. I didn’t know she’d hired a detective to find you, but I knew she regretted the way things had turned out. And she wanted to see all three of you again.”

“Any special place Jo talked about, where she might have gone?” Sam asked April.

“We all talked about leaving Maraville when we were younger. But New Orleans was our mecca in those days. Could she have gone there?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. But if she did, she changed her name or married or something. There are no records for a Jo Hunter in New Orleans that come close to Jo’s description or age. Or anywhere in Mississippi or Louisiana for that matter.”

“So where does that leave us?” April asked.

“Guess we’ll keep trying.” Sam finished his drink then rose. “Thanks for the tea, it hit the spot.”

“Sorry Jack didn’t want any,” Cade said.

“I need to get him home. He gave that talk today, and then did rounds with me. I think he’s tired, though he’d never admit it.”

“From a talk?” April asked.

“He was injured pretty badly in Iraq. He’s still recovering, so he tires easily.”

That explained the cast and cane. She could relate to getting tired easily. Her own recovery from this bug was taking longer than she’d expected.

The sound of tires crunching on the shell driveway could be heard. Cade went out the back door.

“See you around,” Sam said to April as he prepared to leave.

“I hope you can find Jo before I have to return to Paris.”

“I don’t hold out a lot of hope,” he said, “but we’ll keep looking.”

Eliza and Betsy came into the kitchen, laughing. Eliza was holding Cade’s hand.

“Sam, I thought that was your car. Stay for dinner. Cade’s cooking on the grill, and Dex is coming over. We’ll have a party.”

“Thanks, but I have company.”

“I saw the guy in the car. He’s invited, too. The more the merrier. We’re having barbecue chicken, ribs and plain steaks. I’m whipping up a terrific salad and Betsy has the most delicious yeast rolls. And there’s chocolate torte for dessert.”

“I’ve heard about that dessert from Suzanne Canaday,” Sam said with a grin. “I’ll ask Jack.”

April frowned. She didn’t feel up to a party of any kind, much less one where that man would be present.

“April, be a sweetie and help me,” Betsy said, already pulling flour from a cupboard. “I need the oven set at three seventy-five and some muffin tins, please.”

As she rose to help, April hoped Jack would refuse the dinner invitation.

Unfortunately, her luck wasn’t running that way. A couple of moments later he entered the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane. From the frown on his face, she didn’t think he was enthused about staying, but had gone along for his friend’s sake.

Sam made the introductions and then gestured to the table. “Take a seat and put your foot up.”

“I’ll get you some tea,” Cade said, going to the counter and stopping to give Eliza a quick kiss on the way.

For the next few minutes confusion reigned as Cade and Eliza prepared the meat for the grill, Betsy and April worked together on the rolls and then carried dishes, silverware and citronella candles outside to the picnic table on the flagstone patio.

Glad to have something to do, April was conscious of Jack’s dark mood as he sat and watched the others. He didn’t contribute to the conversations flying around, and looked as if he wished he were anyplace but here.

Feeling perversely uncomfortable about his isolation, April went to sit at the table. She didn’t like the man, but felt sorry he was so alone.

“Need anything?” she asked.

“No.” He didn’t even look at her.

“I have some pain meds if you need them for your foot,” she offered.

“I’m fine.”

The bracket of lines on either side of his mouth belied that statement. The man was in major discomfort. But if he wanted to macho it out, let him.

April watched as Eliza and Betsy worked together in harmony—as if they’d been doing it for years instead of a few short weeks.

She’d have to call some of her old friends in the morning, see if any were still in town. None of them had been as close as Eliza and Jo, however.

By the time Betsy’s husband, Dex, arrived, the preparations were well underway and the group had moved to the patio. At this time of year, the mosquitoes weren’t as bad as later in the summer. Jack leaned heavily on his cane as the men stood around the grill and the women set the table.

“Reminds me of my folks,” Betsy said, glancing at the grill. “As long as I can remember, whenever Mom and Dad had friends over, the men all stood together talking about fishing or bowling or something, and the women got together to talk about children.”

April looked at Eliza. Their childhood had been very different from Betsy’s.

“Reminds me of junior high school dances, boys on one side, girls on another,” April said.

Betsy laughed. “That, too. But they’ll join us when it’s time to eat. I can’t believe Jack Palmer is recuperating here in Maraville. You’d think he’d be in Manhattan or somewhere more exotic than this town.”

“Avril is recuperating here,” Eliza said dramatically, referring to April’s professional name, making Betsy and April laugh.

True to Betsy’s prediction, once the meal was ready, the men joined the women at the table. Cade sat next to Eliza, Dex next to Betsy. April was grateful Sam and Jack sat at the opposite end of the table from her. If she grew too tired, she’d slip away to her room. But to her surprise, she enjoyed the lively conversation, which focused on all the changes in Maraville over the past ten years.

At one point Cade leaned over to address Jack. “Sorry I missed your talk today, Sam said it went well.”

“Good enough.” He flicked a glance at April. “Or would you disagree?” he challenged.

“The talk was excellent. You brought the entire situation in Iraq alive for all of us.” There was no denying he was an inspiring speaker. It was his personality that could use some improvement, April thought.

“I admit I was surprised to see the mix in the audience,” Jack said. He looked at Cade. “The crowd ranged from old-timers to teenagers. They probably cut classes to attend.”

“Probably worth it,” Cade said. “What did I miss?”

“Tell us the highlights,” Betsy urged. “We couldn’t be there, either.”

Jack hesitated a minute, then nodded and began to repeat some of the things April had heard earlier.

A wave of fatigue hit and she whispered to Eliza, “I’m going inside. Stay and listen—he tells a powerful story.”

Eliza nodded, her attention on Jack.

April picked up her dish and utensils and headed for the house. She wanted to get to bed before she collapsed. Ten minutes later she was under the covers, lights out. She could hear the soft murmur of voices from the backyard. It had been an interesting dinner, unlike the ones she’d shared with friends in Paris in recent years. No loud music, no fancy clothes, just friends sitting down to eat together. It had been nice.