Part 19 (1/2)

I gazed out the window. All I saw was fields, maybe a few cornstalks on the horizon. If he turned me around twice, I'd be clueless. ”I have no idea. Tell me.”

”The Cat's Meow.”

While I waited for Cory and Danny to finish up in the garage, Ray headed back to the sheriff's office to discuss our findings with the sheriff and the deputy in charge of investigating Jessica James' disappearance. I could tell Ray wished he was in charge. He'd caught the scent and clearly wanted to be the one to follow the trail.

I, on the other hand, still smelled manure. The smell had attached itself to my cardboard carton of eggs, the eggs my new friend Leslie had given me. I think I had some actual manure squished in my tire treads, too. We'd probably picked some up left behind by a horse and buggy on one of the curves Ray flew through.

But just because something smells, it doesn't mean it's bad, I thought as I locked up the shop an hour later. And just because someone's different doesn't mean they're dangerous. Leslie's gender change was unusual, but it didn't necessarily indicate she had any other issues-surely not those of a killer. She simply wasn't happy with herself and had found a way to solve the problem. I couldn't see any more in her actions than that. Leslie had no reason to kill Jessica James.

And her brother had even less reason, as far as I could tell. But it bothered me that his name was Peter. Why couldn't the first letter of his name have been anything other than a P? There were twenty-five other choices, for Pete's sake.

Ha! For Pete's sake. I smiled as I slid into the Lexus where Danny waited with his backpack full of partially completed homework.

”What's so funny?”

I met his gaze in the rearview mirror. ”Nothing. How far did you and Cory get on the bodywork repair?”

”Cory said we'll sand it tomorrow.”

I pulled out onto Main Street and headed toward home. ”Have you ever done bodywork before?”

”No.”

”What'd ya think?”

”I like it. Cory said I could work on the race car with him, too, if you said it was okay.”

I slowed for a turn, flipped on my signal, and watched for an opportunity, checking the rearview mirror for any suspicious cars behind me, particularly any with guns pointed out the window in my direction.

”Is it?”

I swung onto North Street. ”Is it what?”

”Okay?”

”Sure, of course.” I looked in the rearview in time to catch the broad smile that crossed his face. ”So you guys got along okay today, huh?”

”Yeah.”

”Cory's pretty nice, right?”

”He's cool.”

I let it go, pleased and relieved Cory had won him over. But then, what's not to like about Cory? He was like an adorable puppy. You just had to love him.

As I made the turn onto our street, a mult.i.tude of colored and clear Christmas lights sparkled from rooflines, fences, bushes, and trees. Several windows featured lit trees as well as doors and fences with wreaths and bows. Overnight, our street had become a winter wonderland, even though the temperature said Indian summer.

I checked the rearview mirror again. My car was the only one in sight. The gunman wouldn't have much opportunity to hide from my neighbors anyway. Not a day went by that I didn't see at least one face in a window, watching Ray and me come and go. Of course, most of our neighbors were elderly. What else did they have to do? Still, I kinda welcomed the unofficial neighborhood watch program. In all likelihood, it was in place all over town now, more in the spirit of stamping out crime than saving me.

I soaked in the neighborhood decorations and felt better for it. Christmas was still my favorite time of the year, even though my mother had killed herself on Christmas Eve. I couldn't believe the season had arrived already-the wreaths with red velvet bows, the evergreen scent, the sparkling white lights, and the atmosphere of goodwill towards man. Thanksgiving had been late this year, and tomorrow was December third already. The annual Wachobe d.i.c.kens festival had kicked off this past weekend with carolers dressed in period costumes greeting people on the streets. Now our neighborhood was getting into the spirit as well.

This would have been our second Christmas with Noelle, but the first where we could have put presents under the tree and a stocking by the fire for her. A few days from now would be her first birthday. I'd so looked forward to celebrating both events. I even had a gold bracelet engraved with her name put away in the closet for her. I'd purchased it this past summer at an art show before she'd been taken from us. I supposed I could send it to her birthmother with a note.

But my heart broke at the thought of Noelle opening her special gift with someone other than me.

”Jolene?”

I shook my head and focused on the road, happy not to have hit anyone or anything while lost in my thoughts. ”Yes, Danny?”

”Are you and Ray Jewish?”

A deep belly laugh welled and burst from my lips, erasing all my sorrows in an instant.

”No, Danny. Why do you ask?”

”You don't have any Christmas decorations. Our house is the only one on the street that doesn't.”

He was an observant little man. I kinda liked the fact he'd referred to ”our” house as though he belonged there, too. ”The decorations are in the attic. Maybe after dinner, we can put some of them out.”

”Can we get a tree?”

Sadness fell over me again like a net. Erica and I carried on the family tradition of decorating the tree two weeks before Christmas. That only gave me a few days to find her and get her straightened out. This might be one of those years where I had to decorate the tree without her, one of the years where she sat it out in the psych center instead. But I'd wait and hold out hope a little longer for her return.

I turned into our driveway, cut the ignition, and swiveled in my seat to face Danny.

”We always put the tree up fourteen days before Christmas. That way it doesn't get too dried out and the needles don't fall off before Christmas Day. You can cut one down for us this year if you want.”

”Okay.” He rubbed his hands together, his eyes bright. Then the light in them faded. ”What about my dad?”

Poor Danny had his own heartbreaks and sorrows. We were two of a kind. I treaded lightly. ”I'm not sure. He refuses to talk to the sheriff's department. If he won't tell them what happened, he can't clear his name. He'll probably have to stay in jail until he goes to trial.”

Danny's chin got a stubborn set to it. ”He doesn't know what happened.”

”He must know if he stole the Cadillac Escalade and the Toyota Camry.”

Danny averted his eyes. ”He doesn't know what happened to Aunt Jessica.”

I made my voice as gentle as possible, trying to mask my excitement with my sympathy. ”Your dad told you about her?”

He nodded and swallowed.

”What did he say?”

”He said my mom died of pneumonia and my aunt took care of us for a while. Then they had a fight and we moved out. We didn't see her after that.”

”Why did he go see her at The Cat's Meow?”

Danny's chin sunk into his chest. ”I don't know. He wouldn't tell me.” He raised his face to give me a fierce look. ”But he said he didn't kill her. My dad would never hurt anybody. He doesn't know who did.”

”Okay.” I patted him on the knee. ”I believe you and him. But did he drive the Toyota Camry we found her arm in?”