If the Shoe Fits (8 page)

“You what?” Julianne
exclaimed. “You
shot someone? Who?”

“Not so much some
one
,” Will clarified, “as some
thing
.”

“You shot …
some thing
? What was it?”

When Rand hesitated, Will finally answered for him. “A pig.”

“A pig.”

Rand groaned. “Yes.”

“You shot a pig?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re afraid someone will find out.”

“Yes. I need this to go away.”

Julianne grimaced. “So you said. Who’s going to care that you shot a pig? Aside from the owner of the pig, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s the thing.”

“The owner is the thing.”

“Yes.”

Julianne sighed, looking to Will for more help.

“Rand shot Dean and Maureen’s granddaughter’s pig,” he told her.

“Pastor Dean has a great-grandpig?” Turning in her chair, she asked Rand, “Why did you shoot Emily’s pig?”

“I didn’t know it was her pig. I heard a ruckus outside the back door, and I thought it was one of the neighborhood dogs getting into the trash cans again.”

“And you intended to shoot the neighborhood
dog
, Rand!”

“No, of course not. But when I opened the door and saw that thing…. Well, it came charging at me like a wild boar or something….”

“How big is this pig?” Julianne asked Will, and he only shook his head and pulled a face. “Is it one of those giant hogs or something?”

“I remember Pastor Dean talking about it. His son got it for Emily at Christmas last year. It’s one of those pot-bellied pigs.”

“How big can a year-old pot-bellied pig be?”

“Excuse me.” Rand interrupted their exchange, and he rose to his feet, waving one hand between them. “Can we focus? Does it really matter how big it is? I think we’re running off the road and into the ditch here. The fact is …
I shot it
.”

“It does matter how big it is,” Julianne corrected him, circling Will’s desk and opening his laptop. “If it’s a cute little ten-pound domesticated pet, that’s going to be a whole other kettle of pigs than if you had two hundred pounds of bacon charging at you.”

Will moved out of the way, and Julianne lowered into his chair without looking up from the laptop.

“What are you doing?” Rand asked nervously.

“I’m searching for Emily’s Facebook page. She may have pictures.”

When she finally found it, her heart dropped a little at Emily’s profile picture: A cute little wide-eyed pink piglet.

“Oh no,” she said. “This thing couldn’t be any cuter if it was lounging in a laundry basket like that snuggly bear on television. How could you shoot this little guy, Rand?”

He leaned across the desk and turned the laptop to look at the screen. “This isn’t the pig I shot, Julianne! It’s not. No way.”

Julianne took control of the screen again and clicked on the photo section. Fortunately, eleven-year-old Emily had documented the entire first year of her pig’s life. Adorable little ten-pound Wilbur, with the cute pink snout and round peach-fuzz body, had morphed into an eighty-seven-pound one-year-old stunner who apparently enjoyed a good carrot cake. Julianne groaned at the picture of the pig donning a pointed birthday hat as he made short history of one decorated like an actual carrot!

“This pig was part of the family,” Julianne commented as she clicked through more photos of Wilbur and the Alden clan. “That’s going to complicate matters considerably.”

“L-look,” Rand stammered. “You two know this pastor, right? Maybe you can get him to help us make this go away, huh?”

“Well, has anyone contacted you? Is there a threat that this will go public in some way?”

Once again, Rand glanced at Will before he replied. “That little girl is going to be the end of my career!”

“What don’t I know?” she asked him.

Will turned over a pink flyer and slid it across the desk.

A close-up photograph of Rand’s contorted and shocked face angled against another picture, this one far more sobering—the bloody corpse of Emily’s treasured pig-friend—both photos sandwiched between two lines of giant block letters.

RANDALL WINTERS
MURDERER

“Oh. Well, that’s effective, isn’t it?”

“Davis, you should come to my Movin’ & Groovin’ class with me next time,” Amanda said as she dropped a scoop of macaroni and cheese on Will’s plate. “It’s nothing strenuous. It’s a little like a bunch of doddering old fools doing the hokey-pokey.”

The moment Julianne’s eyes met his, Will shared a grin with her.

“Babette picks the music. Today it was
Achy Breaky Heart
.”

“At my age, Mandy,” Will’s dad cracked, “everything I got is achy-breaky.”

“Well, maybe it would ache and break a little less if you’d get your blood pumping every now and again.”

“Stop it, Mom,” Julianne warned, waving her fork at her mother. “Davis is still in his prime.”

Amanda’s face blushed as she told them, “I wasn’t saying he’s old, really. I … was—”

“Yeah,” Davis said softly as he leaned toward Julianne, “I’m in the youth of my old age.”

She chuckled as her mother continued “—just thinking a little exercise might be a good thing.”

Will pushed several asparagus spears from the serving dish before passing it to Amanda. He loved these dinners. Will and his dad provided the kitchen table, and Amanda brought the food from her kitchen next door. And all their talk about nothing in particular; that was his favorite part of all.

“Tell you what, Mandy. You come fishing with me, and I’ll go movin’ with you.” Davis snuck a grin at Will. “Or is it groovin’?”

“You know I’m not going fishing. If Julianne’s brothers were in town, they could tell you why.”

Julianne giggled. “Mom’s afraid of worms.”

“I am not afraid of worms!” she corrected. “I just don’t like them crawling into my shirt.”

Julianne wiggled her eyebrows at Will, eliciting laughter.

“Austin was playing with the worms,” she told Davis. “And one of them got away from him and crawled right down the front of Mom’s dress. Dad and Travis thought it was funny, so they tossed a couple more of them at her.”

“It was not funny,” Amanda said with a sniff.

“She hasn’t been fishing since.”

“And I am not about to start again now.”

“Well, you know Pop’s not movin’ or groovin’ anytime soon either,” Will quipped.

“Who wants more macaroni?” Amanda rerouted the conversation.

“I’ll have some,” Will said, raising his hand like a schoolboy and wiggling his fingers.

“None for me,” Julianne piped up. “In fact, I have to go in a minute.”

Will straightened, holding a forkful of asparagus in the air in front of him. “Where are you headed?”

“I’m meeting Suzanne.”

“You should have invited her for dinner,” Amanda said. “She hasn’t come around in ages. What are your plans?”

“Shopping,” she replied casually. “I need a new outfit.”

“Oooh. Something special coming up?”

“Very. Remember that guy I told you about? The one who saved the dog?”

“The owner of the toolbox.”

Will felt his father’s eyes burning a dent into the side of his face, but he held his gaze firmly on Julianne.

“Yes, I found him and returned his toolbox and work boot,” she explained casually. “And we have a date on Friday night.”

Amanda’s eyes darted immediately toward Will as she sang, “Oh, that’s nice. I suppose.”

Great. Now both sides of his face were melting under careful scrutiny. Will shot his father one quick cut-it-out glance before he returned his attention to the thick slice of ham on his plate.

“Julianne. What do you know about the man?” Amanda asked her with a scowl.

“Paul is his name and he is a carpenter—part of the crew restoring one of the old Victorians over in Wyoming. And he risked his life to save that dog when—”

“Risked his life?” Will questioned without looking up from his plate. “That’s kind of an overstatement, Jules.”

“What do you mean? He got out in the middle of a downpour, walked right out into traffic—”

“Yes, but did he risk life and limb?”

“All right, kids,” Davis declared, “that’s enough arguing now, or you’ll both go to bed without dessert.”

Amanda chuckled as Julianne brightened. “Ooh, is there dessert?”

“Strawberry shortcake. Shall I make a dish for you before you head out?”

Julianne nodded and smiled at her mother, the perfect dimples on either side of her face flashing as she did. “Yes, please.”

Amanda got up and headed for the refrigerator. “Does this carpenter meet any of the points on that list of yours?”

Julianne glanced over her shoulder toward her mother. “My list?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied in an attempt at sounding casual. “I just remember something about a list of qualities you wanted in a relationship. For instance, wasn’t there something about how he had to be a Christian believer? Is this boy a believer, honey?”

“Well, it’s a little too soon to know that yet, Mom. It’s only our first date.”

“Okay then,” she conceded. “Chocolate sprinkles?”

“Of course.”

At first jingle, Will snatched up his phone from the table in front of him. A text from Lacey James beckoned.

I guess you’ve heard the news?

Will typed a quick reply.
What news?

Noms r out for Bar Assoc Person of the Year
.

His breath caught in his throat as he read it. Julianne had been hoping for a nomination three years in a row, and Will knew she deserved it for all of the pro bono work and volunteer time she’d devoted to several local charities. He’d submitted her for consideration all three years, but she never quite made the final cut. Perhaps this year would be different. He’d nailed that nomination essay.

Jules
? he typed.

His throat tightened slightly at Lacey’s reply.
Yes. But someone else 2
. Will considered the possibilities as a second text popped up.
ME!

“Put that thing down and finish your supper,” his father reprimanded. Amanda nodded and agreed while Julianne picked up her iPhone.

“Will!” she exclaimed, popping right out of her chair. “The nominations!”

“I was just about to tell you.”

“What nominations?” Amanda inquired.

“The Bar Association’s Person of the Year awards,” Julianne began.

“And your daughter,” Will continued for her, “is a finalist.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful.”

“Ohh,” Julianne said, deflating into her chair again as she studied the screen on her phone. “And Lacey James.”

“Who’s Lacey James?”

“I’ve told you about her, Mom. She’s that horrible woman with her radar set on Will.”

“There’s a woman with her radar set on you, Son?” Davis asked. “What’s she like?”

“Oh, Davis, she’s awful. Will would never!”

Lunch tomorrow to celebrate?

Will examined Lacey’s text for a moment and thought it over, weighing it against Julianne’s certainty that he
would never
.

“Mom, I’m going to skip out on the shortcake. I can’t wait to tell Suzanne we have to shop for
two outfits
! Ooh, Will, maybe Paul will escort me to the awards gala. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

He glared at her for a moment before defiantly typing a reply,
Tan Thai on Court St? 1 p.m.?

See you then!

Will watched Julianne glide out the front door for her shopping excursion with Suzanne, and he made his excuses to Amanda for passing on dessert.

“You headed out too, boy?” Davis asked him.

“I thought I’d head over to Alec’s and go for a ride. Clear my head.”

After changing clothes and filling a large resealable plastic bag with chopped apples and carrots, Will jogged out to his car and dialed Alec before shifting into reverse. They’d been chums since grade school, and from then until now, their relationship had been braced by a mutual love of horses. Alec’s family owned about fifty acres of trails and rolling hills out off McKelvey Road. When each of the three Ross kids reached the age of venturing out on their own, each one got a home of their own built right there on the family property. Alec’s place, built for him at the ripe old age of nineteen, reminded Will of an overgrown treehouse, just halfway between the main family house and the stables.

Alec had given Will carte blanche on the horses, but in all the years they’d been friends, he had never worked up the nerve to just turn up and grab a saddle. He always called first, and Alec said the same thing every time he did: “Bro, I told you. Just come on over anytime.” On this particular day, Alec had worked a late day and expressed some regret that he couldn’t go riding with Will.

Truth be told, Will didn’t want any company aside from Christie, the blond Palomino quarter horse he’d been riding for years. He could hardly wait to saddle her up and pick up some speed before the sun started to set for the day. Twenty minutes after he and Alec hung up, Will climbed into the saddle, patted Christie’s mane, and the two of them galloped up the dirt trail and over the first hill.

Will knew the Ross property almost as well as he knew the nuances and slopes of Julianne’s face. He gave his head a hearty shake to remove her from his line of sight. The only female Will wanted to think about just then was Christie. He still had an hour or so before the sun dropped beneath the hills, and he determined to make the most of every minute.