Welcome to Last Chance (Last Chance #1)(23)
Author: Hope Ramsay

Family law? Okay, so Clay had to move in a hurry and Eugene was the only lawyer he could find on short notice in a town like Last Chance on a Saturday morning. It didn’t negate the fact that Clay had taken steps to rescue her.

Eugene drew himself up. “Stony, I’ve been retained to represent Ms. Coblentz, and you know very well you have to let me talk with her. So why don’t you take ten?”

Stony’s ears got bright red. “Did Clay hire you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“He did, didn’t he?” The chief pushed out of his chair and strode toward the door. “You have exactly five minutes before I return and continue with this interrogation.” He slammed the door behind him.

Eugene took a seat, and Jane noted that the man wasn’t carrying a briefcase or even a writing implement. She wasn’t sure how much faith she ought to put in him. “Don’t mind Stony, honey,” he said in a drawl that didn’t sound quite as deep as either Clay’s or Stone’s. “He’s got lots of personal problems these days that weigh heavy on his mind. He lost his wife about five years ago and has never recovered.”

“Family law?” she asked.

He smiled. “Best divorce attorney in the county. Clay sent me down here in a hurry. Said he didn’t believe you actually needed a criminal attorney.”

“I think maybe I do need a criminal attorney.”

“Well, let me be the judge of that. My name’s Eugene Hanks, by the way. I believe you met my wife, Thelma, at the Cut ’n Curl yesterday. So what’s all this about?”

“Chief Rhodes believes I murdered myself seven years ago.”

Eugene laughed out loud. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “You see, I ran away from home when I was seventeen, and I changed my name for a lot of reasons that aren’t important. But anyway, he says the police in Lexington think I was murdered, and he says he’s going to force me to go to Lexington to be interrogated by some detective up there who has this theory that I’m dead. Can he force me to do that?”

“No.”

“Is it breaking the law to live under an assumed name? I mean, I pay my taxes and make contributions to Social Security. I just don’t choose… I mean I haven’t until recently chosen to use my real name, because my face turns up regularly on milk cartons.”

“Does it?”

She nodded. “But people don’t recognize me because it’s a terrible picture and I had my eyebrows fixed.”

“I see.” Eugene cleared his throat. “Honey, I’m glad you’re paying your taxes, but if you aren’t using a legitimate Social Security number, that’s a problem. As a legal matter, you probably want to formally change your name, and I can certainly help you do that.”

“Oh. Can they put me in jail for living under an alias without doing it legally?”

“Well, the Social Security Administration won’t be too pleased, but if you’ve been paying your taxes and can prove you are a U.S. citizen, then I think we can negotiate something. In any case, I don’t think jail time is in your future for that.”

“I swear to the almighty power of the Universe that I did not murder myself in Lexington, Kentucky. Isn’t there some way I can prove that I’m myself and that I’m alive? What about DNA? I’ve seen those shows on TV. I’ll let the chief swab my cheek.”

Eugene laughed again. “Wait here one minute. I’m going to have a word with Stony and see if we can clear this up.”

He stood up just as the sound of more shouting came from the outer office. Ruby Rhodes came bursting into the room, her oldest son hot on her heels. The chief didn’t look happy, which was nothing new.

“Lord a’mercy, child, are you all right? I heard you got arrested right there on Palmetto Avenue in front of God and Clay and everyone else,” Ruby said, giving her oldest child an annoyed look.

“Momma, you need to leave now,” Stone said.

Jane had to bite the side of her cheek to keep from laughing when little Ruby Rhodes whirled around and looked up into the face of her giant-sized son. “Don’t you dare tell me what I need to do, Stonewall Ezekiel Rhodes. I have a right to know what my employee and tenant has been charged with. Just arresting her is bad for my business. But I’ll bet you didn’t even think of that, did you?”

“Momma, for heaven’s sake, don’t put your nose in something that will hurt you. And besides, I do not want this woman babysitting my children. I have made that abundantly clear to you. Speaking of the girls, where are they?”

“Well, I had to run them up to their riding lessons this morning because you took a notion to work today. Stony, Saturday is the day you get to spend with your girls. You know darn well it’s my busiest day at the shop. And if you don’t want Jane watching your girls, then I reckon you’ll have to be running them here and there to their activities yourself, because as of this moment I’m going on strike.”

The chief’s ears were flaming red now, and the color was spilling over into his cheeks. “Momma, this isn’t the time or the place.”

Ruby turned back toward Jane. “Are you all right, sugar? I heard he slammed you upside the hood of his car. I’m so ashamed of him, really. He hasn’t been the same since Sharon died, but that’s no excuse for him manhandling you.”

“I’m fine,” Jane said. “He scared me but he didn’t hurt me.” And that was the honest truth, because the chief hadn’t even bruised her. And that was saying something, given the fact that his younger brother had put several bruises on her all in the name of passion.

“Momma, you have to go now. Don’t make me manhandle you,” the chief said.

Eugene cleared his throat. “I do believe we have a case of mistaken identity here.”

“No,” Stony said. “We have an unsolved murder. The police in Lexington believe Wanda Jane Coblentz was murdered there about seven years ago by one Joseph Andrew Hamil. Until Mary, here, showed up with Wanda Jane’s driver’s license, the detectives working the case had nothing to go on except a crime scene at a hotel room and some blood evidence, but no bodies.”

Jane felt something hitch in her chest and she sank her face down into her hands. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “How could that be? I cleaned the room.”

“Jane,” Eugene said sharply. “Not one more word.”

“Sugar,” Ruby said as she rested her hand on Jane’s shoulder.

“They found blood in that room, and they found Wanda Jane’s DNA there,” Stony said grimly. “Joseph Andrew Hamil left Seth, West Virginia, with Wanda Jane Coblentz the day before she was supposed to graduate from high school. That evening, Hamil shot a convenience store clerk in Lexington, putting the man in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The authorities captured Hamil within half an hour of the shooting, after a high-speed chase. The next day, when they realized he was involved in Wanda Jane’s disappearance, they went to the hotel room and found it stripped clean and totally empty. The bathroom lit up when treated with Luminol, and they found Wanda Jane’s DNA at the scene.”

“Do not say one word, Jane,” Eugene said.

Jane tightened her jaw. “No one was killed in that room,” she said.

“The evidence says otherwise.” The chief’s voice was firm and strong and righteous.

“Stony, don’t be a jerk,” Eugene said. “There are dozens of reasons why Jane’s blood might be in that room. The police never found her body, did they? So don’t jump to conclusions just because Jane Coblentz decided not to go home and was last seen in the company of a known criminal.”

“Joey was not a known criminal,” Jane said. “He was just a kid in a bad situation who made a wrong decision. We were trying to get to Nashville.”

“He had drugs on him and a .45-caliber handgun when he was apprehended,” Stone said.

Ruby squeezed Jane’s shoulder. Jane had no idea that Joey had been into drugs. How gullible could a girl get?

“So you admit you were his accomplice,” Stone said.

Jane shook her head. “Accomplice in what? Running away from home? Believe me, I am Jane Coblentz. I thought Joey loved me. I thought we were going to Nashville to make it big in country music. I was seventeen and trying to escape an abusive father. I was also pretty stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. You don’t look a lick like that girl’s photograph or even the photo on the license, which could have been doctored in any case.” The chief snagged the missing-person poster off the table and handed it to Eugene.

Eugene studied the photo for several long moments, then handed the flyer off to Ruby, who blinked down at it and then said, “Honey, I’m so glad you did something about that eyebrow.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Momma, you can’t believe that—”

“I don’t know, Stone,” Eugene interrupted. “That’s an image of a little girl. You can’t say positively that it isn’t a photo of this woman.”

Ruby leaned over and whispered in Jane’s ear. “Did that boy beat you up, sugar? Is that what happened?”

Jane didn’t respond to Ruby’s question because she didn’t want to lie. Joey had never laid a finger on her in anger. She wouldn’t have tolerated that.

“I think we can solve this with a DNA test. My client has agreed to provide DNA,” Eugene said.

“Okay, then, but I’m keeping her locked up until I get the results. The way the state labs work it’ll take the better part of a week.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Stone, don’t be an idiot.” Ruby’s voice was flat and firm.

“Look, Stone, you can’t hold this woman. I’m pretty sure you don’t even have a warrant. I’m sure she would agree to stay in town until this issue can be resolved.”

Ruby squeezed her shoulder again. “Honey, you promise you won’t try to run away again, won’t you? I don’t know why you were trying to leave. I know you probably got the wrong idea about Ricki. You just put her right out of your mind. The Lord will find a way, girl. Just remember that.

A way for what? But Jane didn’t have the courage to ask that question aloud.

Chapter 11

Clay watched through the windows of Lovett’s Hardware as Momma walked Jane up Palmetto Avenue and down into the alley between the Cut ’n Curl and the doughnut shop. Momma deposited Jane at the apartment, then came down the stairs and opened the beauty shop.

He hung there for a few moments, knowing it was best not to go running across the street and up those stairs. He’d handled this maturely, without storming the police station or picking a fistfight with his big brother. Momma and Eugene had taken care of things.

Clay ought to go down to the Kountry Kitchen and get some coffee and biscuits and calm the hell down. Or go home and make some breakfast for Ricki and have a mature conversation with her about whether she wanted children. He sure ought to turn his back on that woman across the street. Because she was trouble. A woman didn’t get slapped into handcuffs unless there were some unsavory things in her past.