Chapter 6
After a sleepless night, Jesse rolled out of bed and stood in a hot shower until her skin wrinkled and the fog cleared from her mind. As she pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a Green Day T-shirt, she sternly chided herself for overreacting to the scent of her dad’s cologne.
Downing an entire pot of coffee and munching a piece of toast that was dry enough to choke her because she’d forgotten to buy butter, Jesse was at last ready to face the day.
She jogged down the narrow staircase, heading directly for the large safe that was built into the cellar.
Before she’d packed her bags and driven away from Canton, she’d locked away her important papers.
She’d fully intended to move from place to place with no permanent home.
There was no use taking anything she didn’t need on a daily basis.
Wrinkling her nose at the scent of mildew that hit her as she entered the basement, Jesse flicked on the switch that was mounted on the doorframe.
A single bulb flared to life. It didn’t chase away the shadows, but it gave her enough light to cross the hard-packed dirt floor.
More importantly, it allowed her to avoid the electrical cords and metal pipes that crisscrossed the open floor joists just an inch above her head.
The square metal safe was mounted on the brick foundation, protected by an old-fashioned dial lock. It was easier than trying to keep track of a key and, thankfully, Mac had given Jesse the code at the same time he’d transferred the deed.
Spinning the dial from side to side, she heard the low click and pulled open the heavy door.
Inside were three deep shelves with stacks of files that were mainly connected to the Tap Room.
Taxes, business license, liquor license, and insurance forms. There were also files filled with her dad’s personal information.
And on the top shelf was the stack of folders that held the police reports and notes from the private investigator.
She pulled them out, cursing when the top file started to slip. Jerking her free hand up to prevent the papers from spilling out, she hit the edge of a shoebox that was perched on a lower shelf. The box tumbled to the ground, the lid popping off to allow the contents to splay across her feet.
Dammit.
Bending down, she dropped her folders on the ground and impatiently shoveled the contents back into the shoebox. It wasn’t until she caught sight of the long, thin envelope that she halted. It looked official. Like a legal document. So what was it doing in the shoebox?
Leaning back on her heels, Jesse opened the flap and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It had a fancy logo at the top and a short note below:
Malcom DeWayne Hudson,
As per your request during our telephone conversation, we have completed a second search of our records. There was no marriage certificate issued or registered in your name in Clark County. I assure you that we were quite thorough.
Sincerely,
Clark County Vital Records Office
Puzzled, Jesse reread the note. Then realization hit her like a blow to the gut. Clark County. Vegas.
That was where her dad had gone to wed Victoria.
It was a shock to everyone. Not because they’d only been dating a few months when Mac asked Victoria to marry him; it’d been obvious he was besotted with her.
But instead of a lavish wedding, which Jesse would have expected from a shallow, annoyingly vain woman like Victoria, she’d instead convinced Mac to run away one weekend to tie the knot in a quickie ceremony in Vegas.
Jesse was convinced the woman must be pregnant. Why else sneak away? But there’d been no baby when they’d come home. Just a marriage that had swiftly crumbled into a war zone.
No, wait. Not a marriage, she reminded herself. At least not a legal one according to the County Clerk of Vital Records.
So what had happened? Had they gone to a shady chapel that had given them a fake certificate?
Surely they checked to make sure it was legit?
Victoria might have been a shrill, demanding bitch, but she wasn’t stupid.
When she was making plans for the wedding, there was no way she could have overlooked such an important detail.
Which meant that she deliberately used a fake marriage certificate. And somehow her father had realized he’d been conned.
The question was, when?
Jesse’s gaze returned to the top of the page, genuine relief racing through her as she caught sight of the neatly typed date.
The letter had come weeks after Victoria had packed her bags and left.
In fact, it’d arrived just a couple of days before her dad was arrested.
He hadn’t known they weren’t really married until long after she was gone.
Dropping the letter back into the shoebox, Jesse’s thoughts were racing with possibilities as she absently sorted through the other objects that had been hidden by her father.
A couple of faded postcards from Jesse’s grandma when she’d traveled to Florida to visit a friend, a few medals from the local high school that her dad had earned playing baseball, her mother’s graduation photo, and her great-grandfather’s Purple Heart. Nothing that would give her any answers.
Oh, and a yellow sticky note. She leaned forward, trying to make out the scribbled words.
Who are you?
A chill raced through Jesse as she grabbed the note, belatedly realizing it was attached to a photograph. Pulling it off, she studied the picture of Tegan at a birthday party. In the background, Victoria was glaring off to the side, not bothering to pay attention to her daughter. Typical.
Who are you?
A good question.
Dropping the picture on top of her folders, Jesse shoved the shoebox back into the safe and shut the door. A plan was beginning to form in the back of her mind. She shrugged. Not really a plan. More of an avenue of inquiry.
For years, she’d locked away all thoughts of the past. Including the nagging question of what had happened. Now that she was stuck in Canton, she might as well do a little digging. What could it hurt?
Climbing out of the cellar with her folders and the picture, Jesse grabbed her purse and headed out of the bar.
She took the time to double-check that the door was firmly locked behind her before she retraced her steps to the lawyer’s office.
It was another hot, muggy day, but Jesse barely noticed the heat.
Or the curious gazes that followed her as she hurried down the sidewalk and into the low brick building.
At her entrance, Samantha lifted her head, her expectant smile fading as she realized who was there.
“Hey, Jesse. I’m sorry the forms aren’t ready for you to sign yet. It’s probably going to be a few days.” Her tone was defensive. “Maybe a week.”
“That’s fine.” Jesse crossed to the desk. “Eric told me it might take some time. I just came by to drop off the police reports and the notes from the private detective I hired to find my dad.”
“Oh, right.” Relief rippled across the receptionist’s face, as if she’d expected Jesse to be angry. “I’ll make sure he gets them.”
“Thanks.” Jesse placed the folders on the desk and turned away. Then, pretending she’d just remembered something, she glanced over her shoulder. “Before I forget, I was cleaning out the apartment and I found a picture I wanted to give your mom. Do your parents still live at the same house?”
“Yes.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Mom refuses to move, despite Dad’s insistence that they need to downsize. She won’t admit it, but I think she’s making plans for grandkids despite the fact that I just got married and my brothers have no intention of settling down.”
“It’s hard to think about leaving a home with so many memories.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’ll admit I’d be devastated if they sold the place. It must be extra hard for you.”
“Harder than I expected.” Jesse forced a tight smile. “See you later.”
Jesse left the office and headed toward a sleepy neighborhood in the shadow of the bluff.
It had once been the preferred location for the professors who worked at the college, with wide lots shaded by oak trees and solid brick homes that consumed large chunks of space without apology.
Over the years, however, it’d lost its status as newer, fancier homes had been built, and the area had faded into obscurity.
Slowing her pace, Jesse studied a two-storied house with brightly painted blue shutters and a wide porch that tilted at one end.
It looked old but well-loved, and the yard was a profusion of color from the garden beds that were in full bloom.
As she approached, she caught sight of a thin woman with short, dark hair threaded with silver and skin that was tanned from hours in the sun.
Perfect.
“Hello, Lara,” she called out, stopping at the end of the cobbled sidewalk.
The older woman lifted her head in surprise, clearly too focused on trimming the already neat bushes that framed the yard to realize that she was no longer alone.
“Hi.” She paused, as if unsure why she was being interrupted by a stranger. “I’m sorry, I …” Her dark eyes widened as recognition hit. “Jesse. Oh goodness, I didn’t even recognize you.” Dropping the clippers, she scurried forward to wrap Jesse in her arms. “Welcome home.”
Jesse allowed herself to savor the tight hug before she was pulling away. Lara was the sort of motherly figure who treated everyone as her favorite person in the world. A perfect trait, considering her husband was the chaplain at the college and they often hosted students and visiting lecturers.
She was also one of the few people who’d been close to Victoria during her time in Canton. Whether or not Victoria was willing to share her secrets was another matter.
“It’s temporary,” she murmured.
“Yes, I heard you were in town to sell the bar.”
“News travels fast.”
Lara clicked her tongue. “Especially in Canton.”
Jesse glanced toward the bushes that Lara had been clipping. “Are you busy?”