The Daughter. BEVERLY BARTON

me, then it’s possible that he’ll go after the people I love. So I want you to promise me to be careful and notify me if he approaches you, either in person or with a phone call.’

      Ella shivered. A sense of foreboding echoed inside her. Did she truly have something to worry about where Reed Conway was concerned? Was her father being overly cautious? Would Reed actually jeopardize his parole in order to seek revenge? If anything happened to a member of her family, Reed would be the first person the police would question. She really hadn’t known Reed, except to recognize him as Judy Blalock’s son. Judy Conway. After her second husband had been murdered, she’d legally changed her name back to Conway.

      And of course, Ella had known Reed as the star of Spring Creek High’s football team. He’d been the guy every girl wanted and every parent feared. He’d had a reputation as a stud, and even when she’d been fifteen, she had understood why girls were drawn to him like moths to a flame. He’d been big and ruggedly good-looking, and possessed a cocky smile that made you think he’d been up to no good. And from what she’d heard, he usually had been up to no good.

      A knock on the door brought Ella back from her memories. ‘Yes?’

      ‘It’s me, Miss Ella,’ a gentle masculine voice said. ‘I’ve come to fix your lights.’

      ‘Come on in, Roy.’

      One of the fluorescent light fixtures overhead had burned out yesterday and she’d had her secretary, Kelly, request a maintenance man to replace the bulb. Roy Moses, with a tool belt hanging below his jelly-belly tummy, just above his hips, entered the room carrying a ladder. He smiled and nodded, his squinty brown eyes, greeting her with his usual appreciative glance. Roy was a few years older than she, a bit slow-witted, and one of the sweetest guys she’d ever known. He wore his white-blond hair cropped short, which made his full face look perfectly round, like a pale pink ball.

      ‘Good morning, Miss Ella. How are you today?’

      ‘I’m fine, Roy. And you?’

      ‘Fine as frog hair.’ He chuckled, the sound a series of deep, slow haw-haw-haws.

      ‘That’s good.’ Ella had known Roy most of her life. He had a sister who was a nurse and a brother who was a fireman. Roy’s IQ score identified him as borderline retarded, but he was a hard worker who held down two part-time jobs. He wasn’t a member of the regular maintenance staff, but was employed as a part-time janitor who did odd jobs at the courthouse – a position Webb Porter had insisted be created for him. His other position was at Conway’s Garage, where he washed and waxed cars and did odd jobs.

      ‘Don’t want to disturb you none,’ Roy said as he set up the ladder beneath the fluorescent ceiling fixture.

      ‘You aren’t disturbing me. Go ahead and do your job.’

      ‘You look real pretty this morning, Miss Ella.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Every time he saw her, Roy told her how pretty she looked. She suspected he had an innocent crush on her.

      ‘Did you hear the news?’ Roy began climbing the ladder.

      ‘What news is that?’ Ella unsnapped her briefcase.

      ‘That Reed Conway is out of prison.’

      ‘Oh, that. Yes. I’m sure everyone in Spring Creek is aware that he was released on parole yesterday.’

      ‘I liked Reed.’ Roy inspected the light fixture. ‘I’ll have to take this down and go get another one.’

      ‘You liked Reed Conway? I didn’t realize that you’d actually known him.’

      ‘Sure, I knew him. He was my friend. My brother Tommy played football with Reed and he used to come to our house sometimes. He was always nice to me. He never made fun of me the way some of Tommy’s other friends did. And he’d let me toss around the football with him and Tommy.’ Roy chuckled his good-natured haw-haw-haw. ‘Reed used to call me “my buddy Roy Boy.”’

      ‘I didn’t really know him,’ Ella said.

      ‘You would have liked him. Everybody liked Reed. I couldn’t believe it when they sent him away to prison. Anybody who knew him knew he wouldn’t have killed nobody. Not Reed.’

      ‘Sometimes even good people do bad things.’

      ‘I know Reed’s stepdaddy was a bad man, but if Reed killed him, he didn’t mean to.’ Roy removed the burned-out light fixture and climbed down the ladder with it. ‘I’m going to be working with Reed.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Over at the garage,’ Roy said. ‘Briley Joe gave Reed a job. He said wouldn’t nobody else in town give Reed a job. I can’t hardly wait to see Reed again. He’s supposed to start work today. I’ll bet he’ll call me Roy Boy. Sure will be good to have a buddy again.’

      Roy carried the light fixture with him as he left Ella’s office. She stared at the metal ladder he’d left behind. In the years since Roy had been working at the courthouse, Ella had found him to be a remarkably good judge of character. It was as if he had some strange sixth sense that allowed him a special insight into human nature. How was it that he could be so wrong about Reed Conway? The man was a murderer. He’d been tried and convicted. Her father had been the prosecuting district attorney, and there hadn’t been a doubt in Webb Porter’s mind that Reed Conway had viciously slit his stepfather’s throat. Even his own mother had been forced to testify that she’d witnessed a brutal fight between a drunken Junior and a furious Reed. Junior Blalock had tried to rape Regina Conway, who’d been only eleven at the time. If Reed had killed Junior while defending his sister, he wouldn’t have been prosecuted for murder, but Reed had caught the man later, after the fact, while Junior had been unconscious. Reed had cut his throat from ear to ear.

       I want to wrap my hands around your soft white neck and then move them down your bare shoulders and over your sweet breasts.

      Ella shook her head to dislodge the memory, to erase the words that were forever etched in her mind. Words Reed had written to her from prison. Two love letters that had been both frightening and titillating to the sixteen-year-old Ella. Harassing letters that had infuriated her father and prompted him to take legal action to end Reed’s letter writing.

      She hoped she could avoid seeing Reed Conway. But what if her father was right and the man sought her out? Heaven help him if he did threaten or harass her in any way. Webb Porter would have the man’s head on a platter.

      Reed woke slowly, languidly, lying face down, the smell of cheap perfume on his pillow. He opened his eyes and glanced at the other side of the bed. Empty. He listened. Silence. Where was Ivy? When he lifted his head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table, he saw the note propped up against the lamp.

      Gone to work. Last night was great. Let’s do it again soon. She’d underlined soon three times.

      Reed grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good. Ivy was an all-right kind of woman. She’d been understanding about his lack of patience and expertise. Hell, he was rusty at sex. In the pen, he’d warned off potential rapists. It had helped that he’d been big and surly even as a teenager. And those first few years, he hadn’t given a damn about how much trouble he got into or whether he killed somebody protecting himself. For the past fifteen years, he’d found his sexual pleasure in the palm of his own hand. Fucking a woman beat the hell out of just dreaming about fucking one.

      Reed climbed out of bed and stalked off to the bathroom. He peered at himself in the mirror over the sink. His eyes were bloodshot and he badly needed a shave. And he had a silly grin on his face. The grin of a man who’d spent the night screwing a most obliging woman. Ivy wasn’t the girl of his dreams, but she’d been mighty accommodating.

      He pawed his chin, testing the scratchiness of his beard stubble. Ivy hadn’t complained about the stubble. She hadn’t complained about anything. Any other woman would have kicked his butt out of her bed and demanded