“I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t speak to me, thanks to my ex.” His eyes narrowed. “You know, for a minute, I got the sense that you and Matthews knew each other.”
“Really?” Kelly’s heart pounded. Should she reveal the truth? But there was some reason why Shane hadn’t given this man his real name. She fussed with Charlie’s hair, buying time, wondering what to say.
She was spared having to answer when Betsy arrived with another woman, much shorter than Betsy, with a mane of wild curly black hair. The woman cradled a bundle in her arms.
Betsy opened the door to the trailer as she talked. “This is my cousin, Gwen. She’s petite, like you, so she has some dry clothes for you to wear and a T-shirt for Charlie to sleep in.”
Kelly realized that all her possessions—everything from her phone to their pajamas—were underwater. She groaned.
“It’s okay,” Betsy said, reading her look. “We’ll get the car towed out after the water drains away. You’d be surprised how fast that flood will be gone.”
The interior of the trailer was worn, but clean. There was a full-size bed at one end and a set of little bunk beds at the other. A tiny kitchen tiled in yellowed linoleum and a minuscule bathroom rounded out the space. Kelly placed Paddy Paws on the floor, and she immediately scurried off to hide in the gap under the lowest bunk.
Betsy plopped a paper bag on the table. The trailer light picked up the glint in her copper hair.
“Some food in case you need a snack tonight. There’s a small dining hall here that does breakfast.” She grinned. “See? I told you this place was luxurious. I’ve got to go fill Devin in. I only radioed enough detail to let him know you all were okay. See you in the morning.”
Gwen offered a shy smile and handed over the clothes. “Not much, but at least they’re dry.”
Kelly let out a heartfelt sigh. “Thank you. You have all been wonderful to us. We’re so grateful.” She picked Charlie up. “Let’s say thank-you to Miss…?”
“Falco.” Betsy had introduced Gwen as her cousin.
Charlie turned a sleepy face to Gwen and mumbled a thank-you.
Gwen took a step backward, her eyes glued on the boy, a stricken look on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Kelly asked, puzzled.
Her eyes remained riveted on Charlie. “He’s so sweet. I’d love to have a son like that.”
“He’s my nephew, actually.”
Gwen repeated the words as if they were some kind of chant. “Your nephew.”
The silence became uncomfortable.
“Thank you again. I think I’d better get him into dry clothes.”
Gwen seemed to snap out of her strange confusion. “Yes, right. I’ll see you later then.”
Kelly watched through the window as Gwen walked away from the trailer. Just before she left the circle of light from the porch lamp, she turned again, staring through the kitchen window, a disturbed look on her face.
Kelly felt a whisper of fear tickle her gut as she reached out and flicked the curtains closed.
THREE
Shane stood in the near darkness, watching the moonlight retreat and advance as clouds danced across the sky. He was cold and confused. Kelly could not be here. It was too much of a bizarre coincidence, and he did not believe in coincidences. She’d finished her nurses’ training; he was not surprised about that. Kelly would do what she set out to, even if circumstances conspired against her. He’d always admired that about her.
The vibration of his satellite phone startled him. Heart hammering, he took it from its waterproof case and answered.
“Hey,” his brother said, the jail phone connection crackling with static.
“Hey yourself. You sound funny.” Shane tried to keep the worry out of his voice as he pictured his brother the last time he’d seen him—through the Plexiglas in the jail’s visitors’ room. The shock of seeing Todd in an orange jumpsuit still pained him.
“Got a fat lip.”
“How?”
Todd sighed. “Couple guys found out I used to be a cop back in the day.”
Shane’s blood ran cold. Once a cop, always a cop in the eyes of the inmates. Todd might as well have a target painted on his forehead in that South Dakota jail. He pressed the phone to his mouth. “Tell the warden. They’ve got to give you some protection.”
“Trial’s coming up, then it will all be over.”
Shane cupped the phone against the wind, wishing he could reach through the connection. “You’re not going to be convicted for something you didn’t do.”
His brother hesitated. “Maybe I did it.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t kill Olivia. You loved your wife.”
Todd sighed again, his voice flat and listless. “Things were tough between Olivia and me before then. We had a fight. I…I was drinking. I passed out, but maybe before that…”
Shane forced out a calm breath. “You and I both know that it was someone else, one of the race producers you hosted last year, the night before she was murdered. The young one, Devin Ackerman, was fawning over Olivia, you told me.”
“Yeah, and that set me off. Olivia said I was being a jealous fool.” He laughed. “She always told it like it was.”
The tiny spark in Todd’s voice as he spoke gave Shane a moment of optimism. “I talked to a cop who used to work with you. He never bought Ackerman’s alibi—that girl Ellen Brown, who said Ackerman was with her the night of the murder. He told me he thinks she might have been lying. I’ve been looking for her. I’m going to talk to her, convince her to tell the truth. It might not get you out, but it will be enough to cast some reasonable doubt.”
“Have you found her yet?”
Shane wished desperately he had another answer. He’d spent a month trying to track her down, with no success. “Not yet, but they let me in the race. I’m here right now. Plenty of the participants are repeaters from last year. One of them is likely to know where she went, have an email address, something. If nothing else, maybe I can get into the past race files and find her.”
“Maybe she’s telling the truth.”
“Then why would she disappear? And how did Ackerman’s business card wind up on Olivia’s desk?”
“It’s a long shot.”
“It’s the only shot I can think of. All I’ve got to do is poke a hole in his alibi. The police will have to take a closer look at Ackerman. I’m sure…”
Todd cut him off. “Police did their thing. They couldn’t disprove Ackerman’s alibi. No evidence pointing to anyone but me. Ranch hand heard us arguing. Gunshot residue on my fingers. Case closed.”
He wanted to shout at his brother, shake some spirit back into him. “You’ve got to believe in your own innocence. I do. I’ve never stopped.”
Shane pictured him now, green eyes so like Shane’s other brother, Lonnie, the little boy who had died before he even got to taste what life had to offer.
“I did, too, at first, but I’m not so sure anymore. I blacked out, I was drunk and I have a temper. If I killed my wife, I deserve to be here,” Todd said softly.
“Stop talking like that. You don’t deserve to be in prison for a murder you didn’t commit,” Shane hissed. “Someone killed your wife, and