Welcome to Last Chance (Last Chance #1)(30)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“So let me get this straight,” Clay said, his voice inching up with his ire. “I’m supposed to sit back and let the state put Ray in jail even though I know he didn’t commit this crime? And sitting back and letting that happen is supposed to help me move on with my life?”

“C’mon, Clay, do you have to twist everything up?”

“I’m not twisting anything. I’m just saying Ray is innocent. I don’t give a rat’s behind what he said to any damn sheriff’s deputy or even to you. And I’m sure not going to stand here and let you throw him in jail.”

“I’m not going to throw him in jail, you idiot.” Stone’s voice increased a notch.

“Then what?” Suddenly, for the second time that evening, he found himself standing toe to toe with his older brother, wishing the guy would just get out of his way.

Stone took a breath and blew it out like he, too, was fighting for control. It was uncanny the way Stone could swallow down his emotions so quick.

“Look,” Stone said a moment later in a voice that was rational and calm. “Eugene is talking with the county prosecutor to see if they can negotiate a deal where the state drops the charges if Ray goes into a state home or halfway house. We’ve got social services on standby. Eugene does this kind of thing all the time. He might not know criminal law, but he knows how to deal with people like Ray.”

Clay’s heart twisted in his chest. “Y’all want to commit him to a state institution? That’s worse than putting him in jail.”

“It is not. It’s what Ray needs. It’s what you need. His momma’s gone. Pete is sick. And even though Aunt Arlene says the folks up at the Mayo Clinic have given her some hope, the fact remains that people don’t recover from lung cancer most of the time.

“Look, Clay, it’s the only solution to this problem. And it’s been inevitable. You just haven’t been willing to admit it.”

“I can’t believe this,” Clay raged. “Ray didn’t do anything wrong. Arresting him for this is the stupidest thing on the face of the earth. The only thing stupider was arresting Jane this morning. You know, you don’t have to be such a tough guy just because you used to be a homicide detective in Tallahassee. You could start behaving like the small-town cop you’re supposed to be. You could start—”

“Look,” Stone cut him off and pointed a finger at his chest. “First of all, stealing a thousand dollars is a serious offense. Unfortunately, even though the money has been recovered, Alex Lovett is not willing to let the issue slide, and he’s been all over Sheriff Bennett to get justice on this.”

“Alex doesn’t own the store, Stone. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever. Pete can’t stand Alex.”

“It doesn’t matter. The county has pulled rank on me. You know how tight Alex is with his cousin Billy. There isn’t much I can do.”

“Jeez, Stone, I—”

“And”—his brother pushed his finger deeper into Clay’s sternum—“if you think Mary Smith is innocent, then you need to quit thinking with your dick. They found Jane Coblentz’s blood in a hotel room in Lexington, Kentucky. Her last hours were spent with a strung-out junkie who went on a crime spree, shooting up a convenience store and putting some guy in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I’m telling you, Clay, that hotel room had been stripped of its bedding and all the towels. The bathroom had been scrubbed, as if someone wanted to erase the evidence. But they missed some blood, and they didn’t know about Luminol. Jane Coblentz is dead. And that woman you think so highly of has the dead girl’s driver’s license.”

All the wind left Clay’s sails. “Blood? What are you talking about?”

“Momma didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what? What blood are you talking about?”

“Look, Clay, I don’t want to ruin any budding romance here, but you need to know the facts. Why don’t I get us a couple of coffees and I can fill you in on all the details? By the time we’re finished, you’ll have a different view of the situation. And maybe by then, Eugene and the prosecutor will have worked out some kind of deal to get Ray out of the county lockup and into a halfway house.”

• • •

It was almost three in the morning before Clay made it home, exhausted, emotionally drained, and longing for a few hours of shut-eye before he had to haul his butt out of bed and play organ at Sunday services.

Ray was in the custody of social services and likely to end up permanently in a halfway house. Clay had failed to rescue him.

Worse than that, Stony wasn’t nearly the idiot Clay had figured him for. His brother had some pretty damning evidence that suggested Jane was guilty of something terrible. Jane Coblentz might not be Jane at all, but some other person. Maybe someone named Mary.

He didn’t want to believe it, but when Stone laid out the facts, there were only a few conclusions he could draw.

Clay didn’t want to feel disappointed, but he did. He needed to get some sleep, and get a grip, and regroup, and try to figure out what his next move needed to be. One thing was clear. He needed to get over his midlife crisis, put that little gal out of his head, and focus on the important stuff: saving Ray from a state-run institution and finding a nice girl to settle down with.

Clay stumbled through the door of his little bungalow, intent on falling into bed and finding oblivion. But the Almighty had another plan for him.

He hadn’t gotten three steps into his tiny living room before he tripped over something that wasn’t supposed to be there. He landed hard on his hands and knees.

“Crap,” he muttered, as he remembered that his exes were cohabitating in his small house. Obviously they had decided to rearrange not only his life, but his living-room furniture as well.

“Clay, is that you?” A sleepy voice murmured in the darkness. Tricia was sleeping on his sofa.

The lamp on the end table snapped on, blinding him as he pushed himself off the floor.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left my suitcase open like that.”

Clay turned around. Tricia looked like crap. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was red. She had obviously been crying herself to sleep.

He stifled the urge to pull her up into his arms and pat her back and offer a Kleenex. Instead he just studied her for a long moment thinking ugly thoughts.

Like it served her right.

Like he had cried himself to sleep only a few million times after he caught her and Chad humping like bunnies in the back of Tumbleweed’s tour bus.

Like he’d given up his dreams for this woman who had pretty much burned all her bridges when she’d told him he had never satisfied her in bed the way Chad did. He ought to put her out onto the street. Only he couldn’t. Because he still loved her.

Maybe not like he’d loved her a year ago, but he loved her just the same. It was a feeling he would probably never lose. He kind of loved Ricki, too. Or at least the memory of her when they were both seventeen and chasing a dream.

Tricia sniffled. He felt himself weaken.

Why did stuff like this always happen? A woman would cry, and it would twist up his insides. Like he needed to do something about it when he was in the presence of a distressed female. He stared hard at the glittering tears in Tricia’s eyes, but this time the only thing that crossed his mind was how Jane had come out to the alley earlier that night and given him a place to rest his head.

He couldn’t think of any other woman who had ever done that for him. It had felt so good resting his head against her shoulder. It had felt as if that little gal had enough strength to actually hold him up for a small space of time.

Neither Tricia nor Ricki could have managed that. They didn’t have such strong shoulders, he reckoned.

“Oh, Clay, what am I going to do?” Tricia dissolved into sobs.

He crossed the carpet and sat down on the couch and took her into his arms. It felt good to have her there. Not mindless and out of control like having Jane pressed up against him. Just nice. The kind of nice he was looking for.

Tricia blubbered against his shoulder. The feel of her, even rounded in pregnancy, kind of turned him on. Not the way Jane turned him on down in his sexual parts. But in a manly way that had more to do with being a good person than being a rutting bull.

He could get used to this. He could be happy with Tricia in his life.

He could go for having babies, too. He wanted a family. He wanted a whole passel of kids. And Tricia would make a good momma, too.

There was only one bad thing about this scenario.

Tricia was crying over someone else.

That pretty much made this a nice fantasy. But it wasn’t real. Even if he wanted a mature and stable woman to marry, he also wanted that woman to love him. It wasn’t enough for him to love Tricia, and Tricia just to need him in return. He wanted more than that.

He didn’t want to settle. He wanted the whole shebang: the mature, stable woman, the marriage, the kids, and love, too. In short, he wanted his soulmate. And he just wasn’t certain she had arrived yet.

The next nine-thirty bus from Atlanta came on Monday. So maybe there was still hope.

Haley Rhodes touched her new necklace to make sure the little camel was showing. Granny said the little green charm looked pretty against the yellow of Haley’s Sunday dress. Granny said it had been nice of Jane to give her the jewelry.

Of course, Granny didn’t know that the necklace had belonged to Jane’s peckerwood boyfriend or that Haley had dug it out of the trash. Haley knew better than to tell Granny the entire truth of how she had sweet-talked Jane into giving her the necklace. Besides, she liked Jane and didn’t want to get her in trouble. Jane was way more interesting than the last babysitter.

Like for instance, in addition to maybe being a floozy, Jane didn’t go to church, just like Daddy. Jane must be angry at God, too.

Haley sat on a folding chair in the fellowship hall, her feet tucked up under her as she sipped on a cup of apple cider. She was keeping an eye on things, which was hard because the Sorrowful Angel was being a poop-head.

The Angel was hovering across the room at the long table where Miz Randall sat, instead of hanging around near the doughnut table at the opposite corner where Jeremiah Jones and Lizzy were standing. Haley needed to have eyes in both sides of her head to keep track of both the Angel and her older sister. She really kind of wanted to spy on Lizzy and Jeremiah, but Haley needed to keep an eye on the Angel, too.

And then there was Uncle Clay, who had come to church and played the organ just like always. Right now, the Sunday school teacher, Miz Bray, was giving him dirty looks from her place by the coffee station. Granny said Uncle Clay was in big trouble on account of the fact that he had broke Daddy’s nose.

Daddy had two black eyes.

Daddy said Uncle Clay had apologized, but Granny said that wasn’t enough. Granny said Uncle Clay was acting like an idiot. Daddy kind of agreed about that and blamed Jane for the way Uncle Clay was acting. Granny didn’t seem to think Jane was to blame.

Anyways, Granny was really mad this morning about Uncle Clay, so Haley was staying out of her way.