Chapter 32
Emily was going to Ray with her suspicions.
Sidney Fairgate, if he could be trusted at all, had pretty much verified Clint Austin’s alibi. The revelation forced her to understand just how significant this secret her father carried was. Just how life altering.
Why would he let an innocent man go to prison?
Her father wasn’t like that.
Those unpleasant moments at the Austin home last night kept elbowing into her thoughts. Reminding her that her parents and everyone else she’d ever cared about around this town were disappointed in her . . . had been hurt by her actions. And would only be hurt further by what she was about to do.
But she had to do the right thing. Heather’s killer was out there somewhere. If Clint Austin was innocent, and it sure looked that way just now, he deserved to have his name cleared. The whole community deserved the truth. More importantly, a killer needed to be brought to justice. For Heather.
That Clint had gone after Larry Medford last night in Emily’s defense had made her remember more of those feelings she didn’t want to recall.
The way he’d made her melt with just a look .
. . before all the pain and tragedy. The way he moved, his smile, his voice, every single thing about him, had made her want him back then.
Made her want him now.
She couldn’t even close her eyes without that raging fire at his house haunting her. Without seeing his face as he watched everything in his world go up in flames. He’d suffered and she was more to blame than all the others put together.
She was so deep in regret she almost didn’t notice the tap on her door.
Before she even looked she knew who it wouldn’t be. Not any of her friends, because she no longer had any friends. Not her parents, because they had likely disowned her.
Maybe one of her new friends, Fairgate or Austin?
Emily adjusted her blouse, smoothed her skirt, and took a breath. Might as well get it over with. She checked the peephole. Her father. She drew back, wrenched the door open in one continuous action. “Dad? Is everything all right?”
Her heart bumped her rib cage. The urge to cry came from nowhere. What if her mother was ill? What if it was Emily’s fault? God, she’d already hurt them so much. The air snagged in her raw throat. What if her brother had been in an accident?
“I need to speak with you, Em.”
The defeat in his voice and in his eyes, now that she looked, made her desperate to fix this whole mess somehow.
“Come in.” She stepped back, to give him room to pass, then closed the door. That he carried her overnight bag registered. Was he bringing her things to her so she wouldn’t have a reason to come back home?
“I thought you might need these.” He set the bag on the chair by the window.
She managed a strained up-and-down motion of her head. “Thank you.”
He was dressed for church, with his navy trousers and crisp white shirt and the striped tie her mother had most certainly selected. Ed Wallace could not coordinate colors to save his soul.
“Ray called me this morning and told me what happened last night.”
Emily winced inwardly. After Troy ranting at her right in their own front yard, hearing more of the same from Ray had to be hard to take. She was doing it again. Making her family miserable.
Her father gestured helplessly as if he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Between you going into that burning house and what Ray told me, your mother and I have—”
“Dad,” she stopped him, “I’m really sorry—”
He put his hand on her arm to quiet her. “I need to finish this. I’ve put it off too long in hopes of sparing you the fresh hurt.”
The anguish on his face made her want to weep for all the damage she’d done. She was certain whatever her father had done he’d only done to protect her.
“It was Homer Jenkins,” he began. “He was the one who recommended Fairgate to me.”
The anticipation she’d expected to feel when her father finally gave her the truth was glaringly absent. She felt cold and afraid. She wanted to ask her father to sit down, but she didn’t dare move or speak for fear of somehow altering the momentum of the moment.
“I had gotten into trouble that year,” he went on, his eyes distant as if he were reliving those days . . . mentally filtering through the events that had led up to his decision. “We would have lost everything. Going to Fairgate was my only option. So I took Homer’s advice.”
A divorced, good-hearted man of about fifty at the time, Homer Jenkins had been the neighbor on Emily’s side of the house on Ivy Lane. It was his car that Clint Austin had insisted he’d been attempting to steal that night.
Emily hated that her father had to relive that awful time but she had to know. This terrible secret had been buried too long.
“Fairgate lent me the money. At the time I was so glad, I didn’t consider how a man like him might want his repayment.
” Her father’s white-clad shoulders lifted and fell listlessly.
“It only mattered that we could hang on to our home for a while longer.” He exhaled a big breath.
“When it was time to repay him, the debt was four times what I had borrowed. I couldn’t pay all of it .
. . not even after months of unparalleled investment returns.
I simply didn’t have it. I went to him that day. The day of Heather’s murder.”
Emily felt herself wilting, unsure she could hold up beneath the weight of guilt growing heavier as what Sidney Fairgate had told her was corroborated.
Dear God, what had they done?
“I had half the money. Fairgate took it, told me what he would do if he didn’t get the other half in one week.
” Her father stared at the floor a long, pulse-pounding moment.
“One of his bodyguards called him to the door of his office, said it wouldn’t wait.
I didn’t move. I was too afraid. I knew what Fairgate and his men were capable of.
So I sat there. He went to the door behind me and had a conversation. ”
Emily braced for what came next, unsure she could bear to hear him say the words.
“I didn’t see any of it,” he said, his eyes urgent now, needing her to understand. “I didn’t dare turn around, but I heard the exchange. Then I heard a third man speak.” His own voice wavered. “It was Austin. I heard Fairgate tell him to take Homer’s car that night.”
She wanted to say something to comfort her father, but she couldn’t find the words.
“After the murder . . . I was so devastated I didn’t even think of the conversation.
Fairgate and my problems with him were the farthest things from my mind.
But, once the police were gone that night, Fairgate sent for me.
Two of his thugs came to the house while you and your mother were at the hospital.
I had been about to go there myself. Your grandparents had picked up your brother.
” The fleeting look he cast at Emily confirmed just how much he’d suffered with the weight of this secret.
“They took me to Fairgate and he made me an offer.” He drew in a heavy breath.
“He gave me back the money I’d paid him already, minus half of the original loan, and said I didn’t owe him anything else.
I knew then he was up to something no good.
He didn’t want to be dragged into the investigation.
Didn’t want the police nosing around in his business practices.
All I had to do was keep my mouth shut about what I’d heard. ”
It was true. Every word. Emily’s heart dropped into her stomach and quivered uselessly, leaving her aching all over.
Edward Wallace squared his shoulders and met what he no doubt saw in her gaze with a challenge in his own. “I refused.”
Hope welled, tightened in her chest.
“I told him that he could forget it. I wasn’t about to break the law for him. And then he explained how things were going to be. I would keep my mouth shut and in return not only would the remainder of my debt be dismissed, but I wouldn’t have to bury my family.”
Horror gripped Emily’s throat, but the words burst free: “He threatened to kill us?”
“If I said a word,” her father confirmed, needing her to see what he’d been up against, the desperation spelled out across his face, “he said you would be the first to die. Then James, then your mother. What was I supposed to do?” Tears glittered in his eyes.
“I told myself it wasn’t such a terrible thing.
Just because Austin told the truth about his reason for being next door didn’t mean he was innocent of the charge against him.
” His eyes sought agreement from Emily’s, if not forgiveness.
“This doesn’t mean he was innocent, Em.”
But it did.
When she couldn’t confirm his assertion, he looked away. The realization that she and her father had sent an innocent man to prison shifted something elemental inside her.
“There was nothing else I could do, Em. I’ve lived with this guilt . . . ,” his voice caught, “. . . but I had to believe I did the right thing. It was the only way to live with what I’d done. You have to know that.”
She did know. Wished with all her heart she could make it right. But it was never going to be right . . . not if they left it this way. Before she could say as much, he went on.
“But after his conviction was overturned and his release, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let you live with this need to go after Austin.
Fairgate’s son must have anticipated this because he reminded me of my obligation.
Reminded me that if I told there would be consequences.
Your mother and I didn’t know what to do. Either choice put you in danger.”
“Daddy.” She laid her hand on his sleeve, felt the familiar freshness of starched cotton. “I know you did what you had to do. Obviously, Sidney Fairgate is playing games with us. He came here last night and told me about the secret you had been keeping.”
Her father’s eyes conveyed the agony he felt. “Please understand I had to do it.”
She nodded, smiled sadly. “I understand and now I have to do what I have to do.”
“We both do. As worried as I am about your safety, I’ll do what I should have done ten years ago. You have my word on that. Just don’t expect it to change things.”
Oh, but it did. She hugged him hard with all the emotion twisting inside her. It changed everything.