note without a dead body, they wouldn’t give it a glance. Even in the winter months they’re constantly fighting the drug trade.”
“I’m wondering about one possibility.” John glanced at Lynley as if braced for battle. “I’m thinking about someone who was once a member of the Marshall family, but no longer—”
“Dodge Knowles,” Lynley said.
Mom stiffened beside her, and her hands clenched until her fingertips whitened. “I’d have thought Barry might have done something like this if he were still alive, but...”
“My father tried to kill you, Mom,” Lynley said. “Who’s to say I didn’t choose the same kind of man?”
“Where is your ex-husband now, Lynley?” Gerard asked.
“I have no idea, but I doubt he’s nearby,” Lynley said. “I was so glad to see him out of my life I was willing to give up the house to the lazy lecher.” She started to say more, but bit the tip of her tongue. It was something she’d never told Mom.
“But we never heard if he actually sold the house,” Mom said. “And it’s in Cassville. Barely a thirty-minute drive from here.”
Lynley shook her head. “The only reason he wanted it was so he could sell it for the money. I sank every dime and spare moment I had into that place, and by the time it was finished it was worth twice what we paid for it. He was constantly talking about getting out of the state. He had a nursing license for Kansas, as well.”
John jumped to his feet. “Mind if I use your computer, Kirstie? I’ll check it out while y’all brainstorm other options.”
Lynley sat in silence, recalling Dodge’s multiple complaints when she’d insisted on leaving Kansas City and buying a place closer to Mom when she was battling breast cancer years ago. The one thing that had begun the destruction of their marriage was when he commented that if her mother died from cancer, at least he and Lynley would never have to work again. They’d be multimillionaires as soon as Kirstie’s uncle died. It was on that day that Lynley discovered she’d married a man just like her dead father.
Lynley cast Mom a quick glance. She’d endured so much, but she was as filled with vitality as she ever had been. It gave Lynley a feeling of peace—the thought that maybe someday she’d be more like her mother, despite her late father’s blood running through her veins. Mom was her rock.
The clatter of Kirstie’s keyboard echoed through the house, and in the beams of sunlight coming through the windows, cat hair floated like stardust. If Mom had her way, this place would soon be crawling with friends, neighbors—most of them empowered with weapons and righteous indignation.
John returned to the room. “Found Dodge.”
“Where?” Mom asked.
He gave Lynley a look of sympathy. “Apparently he’s still living in the house he was awarded in the divorce settlement. He’s in Cassville. He’s working at the hospital in town.”
Lynley slumped back into the sofa. “But I thought he was...gone.”
“This makes him a candidate,” John said. “He would have known about the family money. What he wouldn’t know, since he’s no longer connected to anyone in town, is that you don’t have what he’s after.”
“There’s another option,” Gerard said. “We still have the bulk of Lawson’s bequest in a special fund to support the center while we build the manufacturing plant at the edge of town.”
Lynley sat up, horrified at what he would consider giving up. “Oh, no you don’t. We are not giving the money to this fiend.”
“It would be a way to buy time and track them down.”
“Find another way,” Lynley said. “That’s not happening.”
Mom touched her arm. “Honey, this is your life we’re talking about.”
“This is extortion. I refuse to let someone get rich by using me as a pawn. We’ll have to figure out something else.”
“You can’t tell me what to do with the money your mother donated to my cause,” Gerard said gently.
Lynley paused to breathe, sorting through the streams of anger, terror and frustration that threatened to tie her in knots. “What if Dodge really is behind this?”
Mom met her gaze. “I never trusted that man, but I also never dreamed he would do something like this.”
“We never dreamed my father would try to poison you with mercury, either,” Lynley said.
Mom closed her eyes and shook her head. “It was always about the money for him, too.”
Lynley’s heart squeezed painfully at the sadness in her mother’s voice. Mom had blamed herself for the choices her husband had made. It wasn’t fair. He’d been the one to make those decisions, have those affairs, and even stoop so low as to poison her to get his hands on her uncle’s money, and she took the blame for it? Not fair at all.
With a quick glance at John, Lynley reminded herself why she had no business even considering another man in her life. If her wise, insightful, mother couldn’t read correctly into the heart of a man, what hope was there?
“My question, then,” Gerard said, “is how much is Dodge like Barry?”
Lynley studied the lines of worry around Mom’s eyes, the firm chin, the determined gaze.
“What do you think, sweetheart?” Mom asked. “Could that note have been from him?”
Lynley wanted to reach through the lines of that hideous note, the hateful text message to Mom, and discover where they originated. If only she had that kind of insight. But she didn’t. “I think Dodge might be a place to start.”
Two days after Christmas, John was astounded to find himself driving Gerard’s SUV down Highway 37 toward Cassville, Missouri, with Lynley Marshall, of all people, in the passenger seat. He’d had no choice, really. Gerard had an emergency with one of his rehab people this morning.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself, your mother will never forgive me, the whole town of Jolly Mill—”
“Would you stop?” Lynley sat slumped low in the seat, and with the tinted windows in Gerard’s SUV, they’d hoped to make this work. “We’re doing the best we can, and you know I can handle that pistol in the glove compartment. Not that it’ll come to that.”
“No. I’ll be with Dodge, and I’ll have my eyes on him at all times. He’ll never know you’re anywhere in Cassville. I still think it might’ve been better for you to go with Gerard to Springfield than to be sitting in the car while I interrogate.”
“Look at it this way—you need me to give you directions to the house.”
“GPS.”
“Your girlfriend?”
