make sense. He’d been in the Marines at the time, so he couldn’t be sure about anything. And he sure couldn’t imagine his father doing something so barbaric. But then again, Asa Corbett lived by his own rules.
He picked up the card. Blake Davenport and Associates, PC. Jena Brooks was one determined woman, and he couldn’t ignore that. He’d start by verifying some facts and take it from there.
Glancing at his watch, he got to his feet and headed for the door—time to pick up the kids. It was the end of May and the end of another school year. His kids were excited about the summer break. Trey, his son, more so than his daughter, Claire. At four, Claire was more excited about playing with her Barbie dolls or watching SpongeBob SquarePants.
Trey was an outdoor boy. He loved fishing, hunting, riding his horse, helping with the cows and basically just getting dirty. When he was five, Beth had died giving birth to Claire. Trey’d been sad for so long. They all had been.
Beth had been the love of Carson’s life, his high school sweetheart. Living without her was an indescribable heartache. But he had two kids to raise, and he had to be strong for them every day.
He couldn’t imagine someone taking one of his children. That would kill him. His thoughts turned to Ms. Brooks. He knew she’d been pregnant all those years ago. Beth had written him many times about her and about Asa’s wrath that she planned to pass her bastard child off as a Corbett. Then Jared, his brother, had been murdered by Lamar Brooks, and Carson had never given the pregnancy another thought. At the time, he’d wanted the whole Brooks family to rot in hell.
When he heard of his brother’s murder, he was devastated and soon made the decision to leave the Marines. His family needed him. Beth was about to give birth to their son, and he wanted to be there.
Jared’s body had been found on the side of the road next to his truck. He’d been shot with a shotgun at close range. The gun belonged to Lamar Brooks. Before Lamar could be arrested, he was found dead in his own driveway. The weapon used was also a shotgun. Asa owned one, but when the sheriff ran a ballistics test, it didn’t match.
Everyone thought Asa had killed Lamar to avenge the death of his son. It was never proved, though. To this day it remained the biggest crime and scandal to ever happen in Willow Creek. Now Jena Brooks was dredging it all up again.
What had happened to her baby? And was it Jared’s? Whatever the answers were, he was being dragged right into the middle of it. Their peaceful town would be abuzz with rumors and half-truths. And it was up to him to sort through it all.
He didn’t relish the task.
He’d just as soon never see Jena Brooks again.
* * *
JENA DROVE OVER the railroad tracks that ran through Willow Creek. She passed a trailer park and then took a right onto a gravel road. Another left and she rolled into the Brookses’ driveway. She turned off the engine of her Honda Accord and stared at the run-down frame house. It once was white, but it was hard to tell that now. The boards were almost bare. Several screens were missing. To the right was an old car with grass grown up around it.
She’d spent the first eighteen years of her life here on the wrong side of the tracks, living off welfare and food stamps. Her dad was a drunk who couldn’t hold down a job, and her mother was weak, putting up with a crappy way of life. They received bags of used clothes from different charities and food and toys during the holidays. It was mortifying for a young girl.
She used to dream of leaving Willow Creek and never coming back. Never again living on food stamps and welfare. And never being like her parents.
Her hands ached and she realized she had a death grip on the steering wheel. She hadn’t been home in nine years, and it was a bit unnerving. As was her visit with Carson Corbett. Since he was five years older than her and Jared, she’d never formally met him, but she’d seen him often around town with his girlfriend, Beth. Jena definitely knew who he was.
He had the same dark blond hair and green eyes as Jared, except Carson was taller and more muscular, probably because of his military training.
When she’d heard of Asa’s stroke from her sister, Hilary, she’d known if she was ever going to find her baby she’d have to do it quickly. If Asa died, he would take his secret with him. It had taken her nine years to get to this point, and no one was stopping her now. Not even Carson.
She got out of the car and walked through the grass to the front door. One of the things she remembered from her childhood was that the grass always needed cutting and they didn’t have a lawn mower. She and Hil used a Weedwacker to chop it down around the house to keep the mice away.
The boards creaked as she stepped up, but then, they always did. Not much had changed. Her mother’s rocker still sat on the front porch, where she used to wait for her daughters to walk home from school.
She hadn’t told her mom she was coming home, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to react. All these years, Norma Brooks had insisted that Jena stay away from Willow Creek. She was still afraid Asa Corbett would kill her daughter.
Opening the screen door, she called, “Mama.” She didn’t want to frighten her.
Norma appeared from the kitchen in jeans and a print blouse, shock etched across her aging face. Her dark eyes were dull and her dark hair was almost gray at fifty years of age. Jena stood in shock, hardly believing her mother’s health had deteriorated this much.
“Jena, what are you doing here?”
She closed the door and walked in. “Hi, Mama. Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Oh, Jena, my beautiful daughter.” They hugged tightly, and Norma drew back, wiping away a tear. “Just look at you. All citified. I almost didn’t recognize you, but you have to go. You can’t stay here.”
She took her mother’s arm. “Mama, we have to talk.”
“Okay, but not too long.” Norma sank into an old worn recliner they’d gotten from Goodwill more than twenty years ago. Duct tape covered the threadbare arms.
Jena pulled a wooden chair close to her mother and noticed a bucket near the windows. Glancing up, she saw the brown stains. The roof was leaking. She’d sent Hilary money for a new roof. What had she done with it? She couldn’t think about that now.
“Mama, Asa Corbett has had a stroke. Hilary told you.”
Norma frowned. “I don’t remember.”
Hilary had said their mother had memory lapses and was out of it a lot these days. It was unsettling to witness.
“He has. He’s in a wheelchair, and he’s not going to hurt anyone. It’s been so long ago no one cares anymore.”
No one but me.
“I don’t know,” Norma murmured in a faraway voice.
“Mama, I’m going to be staying a few days, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The screen door banged and Hilary breezed in with a Styrofoam takeout container in her hand. “Hey, sis, you made it.”
“Yeah.”
People said they looked
