I Think I Love You (17 page)

Justine pursed her mouth. "Have you seen Regina? We're supposed to go for a walk." She'd almost said no for fear of missing Dean in case he arrived early, but Regina had assured her that they'd be back before noon and Mica had plans, so she'd be gone, too. Perfect.

Mica stood and it took that ridiculous hair of hers a minute to catch up.
"I'm
supposed to go for a walk with Regina."

"Good," Regina said from the porch, hefting a backpack. "You're both here. Ready to go?"

The setup hit Justine, and she shook her head. "Oh, no—I'm not going if she's going."

Mica headed toward the house. "Yeah, Regina, this was not a good idea."

Justine worked her mouth back and forth—why was it that she and Mica could always agree when it came to disagreeing with Regina?

"Stop," Regina said. "Both of you. For a couple of hours, you two are going to set aside your differences, because we need to talk about something serious."

Justine crossed her arms. "Cissy is not going to change her mind about leaving John, and I don't blame her. If he cared about her, he wouldn't have cheated."

"Well, I don't care what Mom thinks," Mica said. "Daddy would never cheat on her."

"You always take Dad's side."

"And you always take Mom's."

Justine wondered how Mica would look with her other eye blackened.

"Time-out!" Regina shouted, then walked down to stand between them. "This isn't about Mom and Dad, all right?" she said in a lowered voice. "I begged us off from going to church with Mom because we need to talk about Aunt Lyla's murder."

Okay, now she had their attention.

"So," Regina said, looking back and forth, "let's take a walk."

They took off in a direction away from the shop, through gentle woods along a footpath that they'd once worn to the dirt but was now overgrown so badly, the path sometimes disappeared. The sky was July blue beautiful, with big lazy white clouds. The temperature hovered near ninety, and Justine's shirt was already sticky, the backs of her knees moist. Their lush surroundings provided a background of ticking, clicking insects and birds that seemed to rise and fall in conducted rhythm. She walked on the right, Regina in the middle, and the traitor on the other side. They were silent for a good ten minutes. Finally she couldn't stand the suspense.

"So what's this all about?"

Regina pushed up her glasses. "Pete Shadowen stopped by the shop to see me yesterday."

"He still has a thing for you," Justine teased.

"So does that Mitchell guy," Mica said.

Regina rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned a decided pink. She had no idea how lovely she was, Justine realized. Naturally blond, dainty features, unbelievable skin, and great eyes if she would stop hiding behind those spectacles.

A hank of hair had escaped from her low ponytail, and Regina tucked it behind her ear. "Pete mentioned that Uncle Lawrence is in town because the man convicted of Lyla's murder is lobbying for a new trial."

Justine scoffed. "After this long? On what grounds?"

"According to Pete and a report in the newspaper, on the grounds of a conspiracy theory."

"Conspiracy?" Mica asked.

"The newspaper said that Bracken claims he's a scapegoat, that the police were pressured to make an arrest because Uncle Lawrence was mayor at the time. Pete said Bracken has a new gung-ho attorney."

Justine frowned. "So how does this affect us?"

"I think we should go to the police and tell them what we saw that day."

She stopped and clasped Regina's arm. "Are you crazy? We can't say it was or it wasn't Bracken." She'd decided that the impression that the murderer seemed familiar was a manifestation of her replaying the scene in her mind a thousand times over the years. "We'd open a can of worms for nothing."

"But we can offer other corroboration, like the approximate time of death."

Mica grabbed Regina's other arm. "But the man is
guilty.
He killed her because he was pissed off when Aunt Lyla fired him."

"If she fired him, then why was she with him at Lovers' Lane?"

"One last fling," Justine said. "Anger can be a powerful aphrodisiac."

Regina looked down to where they both held her. "Are you going to pull me in two?"

They released her, and Regina resumed walking. They followed.

"There's something else," she said.

Justine didn't like the sound of Regina's voice. "What?"

"The murder weapon was never found."

"That's impossible," Mica said. "I remember you saying the letter opener was lying on the seat."

"It was," Regina said. "So why wouldn't the police have found it?"

Justine shrugged. "Maybe Bracken came back and removed it."

"Or maybe the person who found her body and reported it to the police took it—wasn't it a hunter?"

"Two squirrel hunters," Justine added.

Regina stopped walking. "I think I saw the letter opener last week listed on an on-line auction house."

After she explained the strange circumstances, Justine waved off her suspicions. "But you don't
know
that it was the same letter opener."

"That's right," Mica said. "If we came forward, we could create enough doubt to get Bracken off—you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"I would if he's innocent."

Justine turned around to face Regina. "Who else could have done it?"

"That's for the police to figure out, isn't it?"

Mica joined her to face Regina. "Don't you think poor Uncle Lawrence has been through enough?"

"I believe Uncle Lawrence would want to know that the right man is in prison." Regina frowned. "And you can't tell me that keeping this secret all these years hasn't weighed on your mind. Wouldn't it be a relief to get it out in the open?"

"No," Justine and Mica chorused. Justine glared at Mica, who glared back.

"Don't forget we have our own lives to think about," Justine added. "I don't want to get dragged down into a scandal."

Regina lifted her eyebrow. "Since when?"

Justine sighed. "All right, I'll be honest. This shooting thing has put me on shaky ground with Cocoon. I simply can't afford to be associated with a murder investigation, too."

"It wouldn't look good to my sponsors, either," Mica said. "I could lose contracts."

"But
we
didn't murder her!" Regina said.

"We could still be brought up on charges," she reminded Regina. "Leaving the scene, not reporting the crime."

"But we were children."

"I was seventeen," Justine said. "They might look at me differently than you and Mica. No—going to the police is not an option. We all have too much to lose and nothing to gain."

Regina clenched her teeth and a little vein popped out in her temple. "What about doing what's right and being able to sleep at night?"

"I sleep fine; don't you, Mica?"

Mica nodded. "Fine."

"It's settled then," Justine said. "Nobody talks to the police. And they have no reason to come to us, since nobody knows we were there that day." She angled her head. "Nobody knows—right?"

"I haven't told a soul," Regina murmured.

Justine surveyed Mica's high color with narrowed eyes. "How about you, Benedict Arnold?"

Chapter 14

DON
'T
make yourself a target for potshots.

Mica swallowed under Justine's stare. A hot, guilty flush crept up her neck, but she covered it with her hand. Her sister already didn't think much of her, so she wasn't about to admit her indiscretion. From Justine's perspective, revealing their secret would be bad enough, but revealing it to
Dean....

"No. I didn't tell anyone." It wasn't a lie really, since Dean was more rodent than human.

Justine looked unconvinced, but Mica didn't waver. Finally Justine nodded, "Good," and turned back to Regina. "We're keeping our mouths shut."

Regina shifted her backpack, her expression reserved. "Twenty years ago I let you talk me into keeping quiet, and I've regretted it ever since. But now, knowing that an innocent man could have spent all this time in prison because we were too cowardly to come forward... I can't live with that on my conscience."

Justine wagged her finger in Regina's face. "If you were any kind of sister, your
conscience
wouldn't allow you to drag us through the mud."

Regina's face was a mask of hurt. "If I were any kind of sister? You mean the kind that still follows your orders, regardless of the consequences?"

Justine simply lifted her chin in defiance.

Regina looked her way. "Mica, do you feel the same?"

She was torn between sympathy for Regina and concern about her own livelihood. She'd given the limo driver all her cash except ten dollars and prayed that Cissy and John wouldn't take her up on her offer to stay in a motel. If her money woes weren't enough, imagining the look on Everett Collier's face when she told him she was enmeshed in a murder trial tipped the scale. "I'm sorry, Regina; I have too much to lose. If we knew the man was innocent, it would be one thing, but he's probably guilty."

"But we don't
know
he's guilty."

"Yes, we do—a jury decided twenty years ago based on the evidence."

"They didn't have all the evidence."

"They obviously didn't need it!" Justine practically shouted. "Regina, why can't you ever leave well enough alone?"

Mica recognized the signs—high-pitched voice, bulging eyes—Justine was on the verge of saying something terrible. She put out her hand, but her redheaded sister was like a boulder on an incline—once she got rolling, there was no stopping her.

"Stop living vicariously through your meddling and your stupid books, Regina! Let people live their lives, and get one for yourself!"

Mica averted her gaze, tingling for Regina. She wanted to say something to defend her, but she recognized the value of being on Justine's side of this argument, even if her methods were unkind.

The silence dragged on and on as everyone absorbed the words that still hung in the air and waited for the fallout.

"Well," Regina finally said with a little laugh, "don't hold back, Justine."

Justine released an exasperated sigh. "Drop this, Regina. Forget about it. We all have enough going on in our lives without you bringing more grief down on our heads."

A loud crack penetrated the air, and two seconds passed before Mica identified the noise as a gunshot. A second loud report sounded, and bark flew off the tree nearest Justine. Mica screamed and hit the dirt, landing on top of Justine, who lay on top of Regina.

"It's that Crane woman," Justine gasped, groping in her bag. A hairspray bottle went flying. "She's found me."

Regina's eyes flew wide. "What are we going to do?"

Mica was too frightened to offer advice.

"I have a gun!" Justine shouted in the direction of the shot, still rummaging. She tossed out her makeup bag, her wallet. "Do you hear me, Lisa? I'll shoot the next thing that moves!" Cell phone. Sunglasses.

"Justine?" a man shouted. "Justine, don't shoot. It's Pete Shadowen."

Mica went limp with relief and Justine grunted under her deadweight.

"Pete!" Regina shouted. "Someone's shooting at us!"

"No." His voice sounded closer. "It was just a rabbit hunter."

He emerged from the trees, and the sisters began to untangle.

"Are you all okay?"

They were slow to respond but finally stood and brushed off their clothes. Mica's knees knocked, and her bladder felt loose.

"What are you all doing out here?" he asked.

"We were taking a walk," Justine said, glaring at Regina.

Regina looked at Pete. "What are you doing out here?"

"Got a call from the Hendersons over the hill about a prowler, and I thought it might be our fugitive." Pete had apparently taken ownership of Justine's predator. He pointed. "Damn fool hunter left a shell in a tree down there, too. You all could've been killed."

"Did you get him?" Regina asked.

Pete shook his head. "When he saw me, he ran. I wanted to make sure you all were okay."

Justine leaned over and gathered the items scattered from her bag. "You don't have to be so paranoid on my account. The woman crossing the Pennsylvania state line wasn't Lisa Crane."

"But she hasn't been caught."

Justine hesitated. "No."

"So she
could
show up."

"It's a stretch," Justine said, "but yeah."

"Thanks, Pete, for looking out for us," Regina cut in with a smile. "We thought we were goners."

He saluted. "No way I'd let someone hurt you, Regina." He gestured behind him. "I'm going to knock on a few doors and see if I can find the jerk. You all have a safe walk back." His gaze lingered on Regina before he turned and walked away.

Regina re-fastened her backpack and from the expression on her face, Mica knew she was thinking about the words Justine had said before the commotion. "You two go ahead. I think I'll sit here for a few minutes and sort things out."

Justine shrugged. "Fine. I'm going back. Mica, are you coming?"