Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy #1)(63)
Author: Brenda Novak

Obviously, it was the less visible part that interested his mother.

“Teddy and Heath were at her place just this morning,” she went on, “sitting out on the lawn selling soap and cookies and whatever else.”

“So?”

“She lives on Main Street, for crying out loud. Who knows how many people saw them? To make matters worse, she now has a Kennedy Archer For Mayor sign in her yard.”

“She does?” he asked, oddly pleased despite everything.

“One day it’s Vicki Nibley. The next it’s Kennedy Archer. Tell me that doesn’t make it look as though you put a smile on her face last weekend.”

“God, you sound like Joe,” he said.

“It’s the truth.”

Kennedy was still fixated on the sign. “Where’d she get one of my signs?”

“How should I know? Maybe Teddy took it from the garage and dragged it over.”

“Main Street’s a good location,” he said.

“But now that you’ve seen this—” she smacked the paper he’d thrown onto his desktop “—you must realize that associating with her in any way, even having your sign in her yard, is the kiss of death.”

“You’re talking as if Vicki Nibley’s already won. The election isn’t over yet.”

“If anything could cause us to lose, it would be Grace Montgomery.”

Kennedy rounded his desk. “Everything will be okay, Mom.” He would’ve drawn her into a comforting embrace, except he knew she’d remain stiff and awkward. His mother had always been loving but not particularly nurturing. She struggled with intimacy and preferred to show her devotion through dispensing advice and sacrificing her time to help him in various ways. His parents were alike in that.

“What made you take her to the lake?” she asked, perching on the edge of a chair.

“A lot of things. Mostly, I was thinking about a poor little girl who didn’t have the chance at life she should’ve had,” he told her.

“What’s that supposed to mean? She was damn lucky Lee took her and her family in, that he put a roof over their heads.”

“That’s not all a child needs, Mom.”

“So what are you saying?”

Kennedy scratched his shoulder, searching for some way to gain a little understanding and support for Grace. To an extent, he sympathized with Joe’s family because they felt so wronged. But he didn’t believe they were the only ones who deserved consideration. What had happened to Grace was grossly unfair. “I think she was abused,” he said.

Camille grimaced in disbelief. “Oh, brother. If that’s the excuse she’s giving you, I’ll bet anything it’s a lie. Don’t you see? She’s trying to manipulate you.”

Kennedy thought back on those few moments when he’d asked Grace about the reverend, and knew that what his mother said couldn’t be true. No one could manufacture the desolation he’d seen on her face. The way she’d finally admitted it also rang true. “She didn’t tell me she was abused. Not at first. I guessed.”

“How?” she asked, leaning forward expectantly.

“Something tipped me off.”

Camille shook her head. “No. She’s a gold digger, just like her mother.”

“That’s not true.”

“Show me one person who ever saw a mark on her.”

Kennedy lowered his voice. “There are other types of abuse, Mom.”

“Lee Barker was a preacher! I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you’re insinuating. Because if you’re wrong, if you accuse a man like Lee, the backlash will be severe.”

“I’m not insinuating anything. I have proof.”

His mother stared at him for several seconds, then softened. “What kind of proof?”

Kennedy remembered Joe standing so close to the spot where he’d buried the Bible. Seeing his friend there had spooked Kennedy, made him consider going back and moving it. But he hadn’t had the chance. And he’d decided soon afterward that he was probably being paranoid. If Joe knew anything about the Bible, he would’ve stormed the police station; he wouldn’t have kept the news to himself. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s important is that you know things aren’t as we’ve always believed.”

Camille examined her manicure. “Then bring this proof out into the open, so everyone will know,” she said when she looked up.

“I can’t.” He wasn’t even sure others would interpret it the way he did. There was nothing truly explicit on those pages. It was a feeling he’d gotten, the missing piece that had explained Grace’s behavior—and why the Montgomerys might want to be rid of Barker.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because it could hurt Grace as much as help her.”

“Kennedy, tell me what you have.”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. It’s not around here, anyway.”

“Who has it?”

“No one has it.”

“Then where is it?”

“I buried it, okay?”

“You buried it? Why, for God’s sake?”

He blew out a sigh. “Because it could hurt me, too.”

“You’ve done something you shouldn’t have,” she said, a tinge of panic entering her voice.

“Some people would see it like that.”

“Kennedy, what’s going on?”

“Mom, I can’t—you’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“Trust you?”

“Why not?” he replied, growing impatient. “How long do I have to prove myself? Have I ever let you down?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“In recent years?” he clarified.

She seemed to waver. “What do you suggest we do?”

“I think we befriend Grace.”

“What?” she cried, coming out of her chair.

“If we back off, it’ll seem like an admission that we were doing something wrong in associating with her. Instead, we do the opposite, tout her innocence.”

“Your father will never agree to an association with the Montgomerys.”

“He will if you do.” Although his father hadn’t expressed any fears, Kennedy knew he was frightened of what lay ahead. He was relying on Camille to handle anything unrelated to his health and his job.