Page 6 of Trace of Doubt
“Anything I should be aware of?”
Edie waved away my concern. “Not at all. I trust him implicitly. He’s done a few repairs for me and given Timothy and Livy riding lessons. Told me he’d taken an extended leave from teaching to sort out what he should do next. Said he’d been widowed for over two years, and it was time to put the grief behind him.”
A pop rang out and the right front tire blew, sending the SUV left toward the shoulder. Edie slammed on the brakes, and the vehicle slid and swerved.
“Don’t brake!” Years ago a driver’s ed instructor pounded the warning into my brain. He followed up with videos depicting what happened to metal and people who had blowouts on wet, slippery roads.
Edie lifted her foot, fighting to keep the SUV under control. But the vehicle ignored her efforts and dove hood-first into a water-filled ditch.
The rain had stopped its deluge, but the dark night still held menace. A tow truck disappeared down the road with the SUV. Edie and I had crawled out the passenger side. Now she, Officer Hughes, and I stood on the side of the road like a face-off in the prison yard. Blood trickled down the left side of Edie’s forehead.
“Sis, I’m calling an ambulance.” Officer Hughes yanked his cell phone from his pant pocket.
“You do and I won’t let the paramedics touch me. I’ll handle this with a Band-Aid at home. You’re getting on my last nerve.”
He turned to me. His scrutiny made me crave a shower. “A shooter fired into the tire. Do you know anything about this, Ms. Pearce? My sister could’ve been seriously hurt or worse.”
Anger boiled from my toes to my mouth. “Nothing, Officer Hughes. Edie and I were talking, and I wasn’t aware of anyone else on the road.”
“Your kind has its ways. Looks to me like you crossed somebody, and they’re sending a deadly message.”
“Prove me wrong, Officer Hughes.”
“I’m sayin’ you’ve made enemies.”
“Randy, hush,” Edie said. “You’re jumping to conclusions. We’ve talked about this, and I’m giving Shelby an opportunity to put the past behind her. In fact, I think she should spend the night with me. It’s late and—”
“That’s kind of you but no thanks.” I waved away her offer. “I prefer the cabin. My concern is we don’t know why someone shot a bullet into your tire.”
“Probably just kids.”
He leaned into me, nose to nose. “I don’t want the likes of youinfluencing Edie. Neither do I want you around my friends or family. I want you out of our community.”
“Stop it.” Edie’s voice echoed around us. “Pushing your weight around makes you look like a bully on steroids. I want to get Shelby settled into the cabin and then home to my kids. Are you driving us, or do we walk?”
I didn’t need anyone to fight my battles, although she knew her brother better than I did. He wanted to protect her from trouble... namely me.
“Get in,” he said. “I’ll take you.”
“Not one more ugly word to Shelby. You hear me? I’ve had enough from the chairman of the unwelcome committee.”
Others must have voiced their opinions about helping me.
He scowled and strutted like a rooster to the cruiser. At the door, he whirled around and shook his finger at me. “When I get to the bottom of this, you’re heading right back to prison.”
Fear coiled around my heart for too many reasons to list. Should I go through with his earlier request to take the morning bus to another town? Two surprises had blindsided me—my dad claiming I’d threatened the family and someone firing a bullet into Edie’s tire.
I’d thought of little else but freedom for years. But was I ready to leap into the unknown?
4
Sunlight filtered through the bedroom window above my head, an amenity I’d once taken for granted. Despite the mix of emotions assaulting me about being shot at and a disagreeable police officer, I’d slept in my own bed. In my own home. And wearing soft pale-green pajamas—a gift from Edie. Did she know the color green often signified healing?
Last night after she’d shown me the cabin and bidden me good night, I walked through each of the five rooms, exploring and praying for my fresh start. No spiders caught my attention. Sometime after midnight, the rain stopped. My mind ceased to deliberate the myriad problems ahead and those who stalked me, and I yielded to sleep.
This morning through fog-laden eyes, I admired my rustic bedroom. I stared up from a chunky, four-poster bed to a light pine-beamed ceiling and inhaled the sweet peace that cradled me. Perhaps my joy came from the homey wood, varying textures, andendearing fabrics woven together to create a homespun feel. I drew my fingers over the quilt covering me and touched the threads of the perfectly crafted pieces of a star pattern symbolizing the Lone Star State. Back in high school, my interior design dreams included living in an apartment in New York City with sleek lines and huge windows overlooking Fifth Avenue. Another lifetime. Another me.
The cabin seemed to whisper that I could make it, the same thing I’d told myself since giving my life to Jesus. My fingers gripped my Bible on the nightstand—the only way to start the day. The reading came from Psalm 139:“OLord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me!”Trusting in Him superseded everything else. I finished the passage with more optimism than the depression attacking me the previous night.
