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“I stopped by the shop to pick up a gift for Betty. I got the baby a plaque for the room. It’s real cute too.” She tried to ease him into another subject. Everyone knew Regis and Cecil had personal issues. But she supposed that was to be expected.
“What did he say?”
“That a real pretty agent and detective came by inquiring about the purses and the stitching. He actually felt like they’d given him a compliment on the stitching being precise. I reminded him they suspected him. He didn’t seem to care.” She finished off her sandwich and put the plate in the sink. “You want me to do these dishes?”
“I want you to stay away from Cecil.”
She sighed. Too many men in her life were dictating her choices. “I’m leaving, Regis.”
The chair scooted across the floor, and she turned to face him. “I’m sorry. Cecil’s trouble. Has been since we were teenagers. You know this. Stay a little longer.”
“No.” He didn’t understand. “I mean I’m leaving Night Holler. For good.” She thought saying it would bring her some courage to actually do it. She’d been thinking about it since she was thirteen years old. But staying here gave her a certain amount of protection, even if she still felt trapped and suffocated.
She didn’t want this life. Never asked for it.
Once, she’d asked Whiskey to run away with her, and he’d laughed. Said they were going nowhere. Her home was here. His daughter was staying here. But she didn’t want Lula raised here and going into the family business. Drugs abounded. She was lonely. She wanted better for her daughter. Money and protection weren’t everything.
She’d been saving up.
“Are you being serious?” he asked and stepped into her personal space. His dark eyes held concern and something she couldn’t put her finger on. “Ruby, that’s like signing a death warrant.”
“No one will find me...if you help me. Regis, you know the law. You know things I don’t. You could help me. Help me and Lula and not get caught.” Hopefully, she wasn’t putting him in harm’s way. She grabbed his biceps. “Will you? Help me?”
“Ruby,” his eyes darkened and he grasped her hands, “you’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter Twelve
Saturday, October 21
1:44 p.m.
John glanced over at Violet in the passenger seat of the car. Something plagued her mind. Last night after dinner, he’d taken her to the hospital and, as promised, he stayed by her side. While she hadn’t expressed her nerves in terms of fidgeting, her jaw had been tight until a woman entered the waiting area, and then she’d bristled.
The woman had been Reeva Rainwater, and she’d been gnawing her nails, pacing and muttering about being forced by Violet to have to be here and having no money to pay a cabdriver. From Violet’s calling her by her given name to the arctic air icing the atmosphere around them, it was obvious no love was lost between them. The only things they shared were bronzed skin and dark hair. Violet had mentioned on the ride to Memphis that her great-great-grandfather had been a Native American from the Shawnee tribe, though she’d never met anyone from her grandmother’s side of the family.
Violet had handled the financial affairs, checked in on her grandmother and given Reeva money for an Uber back home all in under an hour, with the excuse that she needed to get back to the investigation. She’d planned to drive back a day early on her own, but Stella was much better, and seeing her—if only for a day—had given him the strength he needed to return to Kentucky and find Callie’s killer. He’d packed a few more items, and they’d hit the road at six o’clock this morning.
It was pushing two o’clock as they exited Route 15 into Slate County. “You know if you want to talk about anything, I’m a good listener.”
“I have a therapist for that.” She stared out the window, her tone clipped and cold. “I’m sorry. I don’t really have relationships where I share feelings. The closest I’ve come is Fiona, but mostly that’s because she forced herself into my house and my life.”
John didn’t see anyone barreling into Violet’s life that Violet didn’t allow, but she could keep on with the tough exterior that hid a lonely and confused woman. After seeing her home life, he could understand her more. He had no idea what it would be like to grow up unloved, unwanted and reminded of it daily. But looking at Reeva Rainwater had proven that’s the kind of life Violet had. To be successful now made her nothing short of a brave woman determined to overcome. Yet, he had a feeling she would never see her life this way.
“No men in your life?”
“I date, occasionally, but it never goes past a few. I don’t have time. Haven’t we had this conversation?”
“Have we?” He kept his eyes on the road, or he’d miss the turn off to Crow’s Creek.
“What about you? Have you dated since your wife passed?”
She was A-OK talking about his relationships, but she was a vault about her own. “I dated for the first time six months ago. But I knew pretty quick it wasn’t going to go anywhere. She was sweet and attractive, but she didn’t...challenge me enough.”
“You mean like playing truth or dare?”
He caught the tease in her tone. He was recognizing it more quickly now. “Exactly. I mean if someone won’t double-dog dare me, are they even worthy of my time?”
She smirked but said nothing.
