admit, even though he realized that Jennifer had probably engineered their thanks.
“It’s great. Thanks for bringing it.” She could have mailed it, of course, but she hadn’t.
“I had to come downtown to the print shop anyway.” She seemed to read his thoughts. “And there was something else that belongs to you.” She handed him a business-sized envelope.
“If this is a thank-you from Pastor Rob, you can tell everyone to stop thanking me.” He ripped the envelope open. “It makes me feel as if the world is surprised that I could be generous.”
“No, it’s not that. I mean—”
He flipped open the single page. His obviously shocked expression cut off her words.
It took a couple of seconds to comprehend what he was looking at. The sheet was a copy of one of the store’s print ads—the one with a photo of him that the advertising director had talked him into. An exact duplicate, except that someone had changed the text.
Instead of the usual invitation to visit the store’s semiannual sale, the ad had another message. Come in and meet Josie Skerritt’s secret lover.
The taunt seared his soul. He crumpled the page with an involuntary spasm of his fingers.
“Where did you get this?” His voice was so harsh it didn’t sound like his.
Jennifer drew back at the accusation in his tone, her eyes wide, her hands braced on the arms of the chair as if she wanted to flee. “Mason, what’s wrong? What is it?”
He took a breath, forcing himself back under control. “This letter. Where did it come from?”
“It came to the church office. Look at it. You’ll see.” She nodded toward the envelope, which had fluttered to lie facedown, a white rectangle against the dark blue carpet.
He bent, scooping it up, and flipped it over.
“You see.” Jennifer leaned toward him. “It came in this morning’s mail. It has your name on it, but the church address. We couldn’t imagine why anyone would send it that way, but I said I’d drop it off, since I was coming by anyway.”
He frowned at the envelope. It was addressed exactly as she’d said, in block letters printed in black ink. There was no return address. The postmark read Savannah, Georgia. Nothing to indicate who had sent it, and so many people had undoubtedly handled it that fingerprints would be useless.
Who could it be but the person who’d made that call to his cell phone, taunting him? Penny? That seemed the obvious choice.
But to what end? If she had sent it, what could she possibly hope to gain?
He looked at Jennifer, assessing her. She couldn’t have read the note, but she obviously knew he was upset. He could see nothing in her face but concern.
Still, why had the letter gone to the church? And was the fact that it ended up in Jennifer’s hands merely a coincidence?
FOUR
“Thanks so much, but I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.” Jennifer shook her head at the slice of moist, rich applesauce cake Kate held out temptingly. “I just wanted to talk. You didn’t really have to feed me, but it’s delicious.”
Kate put the slice of cake back on the platter, smiling. “Brandon will eat it. That boy will eat anything. And I have to confess—I didn’t make the cake. Parker did.”
“You and Parker are getting to be quite an item, aren’t you?” She hadn’t come to talk about Kate’s romance, but she just couldn’t resist. The love between the two of them when they were together would make anyone’s heart warm.
Even at the mention of his name, Kate’s eyes grew soft. “You could say that. You know where he is tonight? Taking Brandon to a scout meeting. Can you imagine how rare it is to find a man who cares that much for my son?”
“You’re lucky.” Her voice softened. Was she ever going to be that fortunate?
“Funny.” Kate picked up her coffee cup and held it between her hands, her blue eyes seeming to look off into the distance. “How much we’ve changed since college. I have, anyway. I want completely different things now than I did then.”
“No big career in music now?” She remembered Kate’s dream of making it in Nashville. And really, she’d seemed to have every chance at success, with her beauty, talent and drive.
“I wouldn’t have it on a silver platter.” The answer was emphatic. “I just want my family and my nursing, and I’ll be happy.”
“I’m glad for you, Kate. And for Parker. You’re going to be great together.”
“We are.” Kate took a sip of the coffee, and her expression turned brisk. “But come on, now. You didn’t come out in the rain tonight just to eat Parker’s applesauce cake and hear me being sappy about my love. What’s on your mind?”
Jennifer smiled. She could just see Kate, running a hospital ward with brisk efficiency. The most popular girl on campus had found her place in life.
“You caught me. I wondered if you’d found out any more about what’s happening with Penny. And that poor little girl. Have they proven yet if she’s really Josie’s daughter?”
“I’m not exactly in the police’s confidence.” Kate made a face. “In fact, I think they’d like it if we’d all butt out of official business. But I think they are trying to locate her and get a warrant for DNA testing.”
“But don’t you think it’s odd that none of us guessed Josie was pregnant that spring semester? We were all in Edith Sutton Hall together.”
“Good old Edith Sutton. Long on Southern charm, short on amenities. I’m certainly glad I’m not living there any longer.” Kate glanced with satisfaction around her spotless kitchen, done in subtle earth tones. “But really, is it so surprising? Senior year we had private rooms, so it’s not as if anyone was with her twenty-four hours a day.”
“Even so, you’d think we would have noticed something. All those nights when we sat around the lounge and talked until one in the morning, all those warm evenings when we went up on the roof.” It came back so vividly—the scent of jasmine in the air, the soft sounds of the women’s voices confiding secrets in the dark. “You’d think she’d have said something.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I was totally preoccupied that semester with what I was going to do after graduation. I was probably too self-centered to notice anyone else’s trouble.” Kate sounded almost amused at the girl she’d been.
“Not self-centered,” Jennifer protested. “Just busy.”
“Well, you were, too. As I recall, you went home every weekend to help take care of your mother. I was sorry to hear about her death, by the way. I don’t know that I ever told you that.”
Jennifer nodded, her throat tight. Her mother had made a gallant effort to live a normal life despite her multiple sclerosis. “She insisted I live on campus that semester. She didn’t want to deprive me of that experience,
