Reasonable Doubt. Tracey V. Bateman

the fading images of a sweet, sweet dream, one he didn’t want to forget. He fought to remember a face surrounded by riotous red curls, and pea-green eyes invaded his consciousness.

      “Keri,” he whispered into the still-darkened room. He sat up.

      Determination sent a jolt through his stomach. He was going to do it! Take the boys on a vacation like the ones he’d enjoyed growing up. The Mahoney cabin at Lake Bennett. The twins would love the lake. Too bad it wasn’t summertime. Trout fishing and cutoff shorts were out of the question this time of year, but even in winter, a couple of nine-year-old boys would find plenty to pique their interest.

      He couldn’t bear the thought of the boys spending Thanksgiving in the house where their mother had been murdered. Josh’s outbursts and nightmares were getting worse. The kid definitely needed a little time away. By this time next year, he hoped, they would be able to put the house on the market and begin the process of putting all of this behind them. He prayed so.

      Justin raked his fingers through hair that could have used a pair of scissors three weeks ago. The police had never told him he was under any kind of restriction to stay in Kansas City. He supposed it was implied, possibly understood. But certainly not mandated.

      At a sudden ping, ping against the window, he pushed back the covers, swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked across the freezing wooden floor.

      His gut clenched as he recognized the falling ice. If he waited much longer, the curvy roads between here and the cabin might not be drivable. On a good day, it was a two-hour drive. If this weather didn’t let up, he was looking at three, four, maybe five hours.

      The red digital numbers on the bedside clock glowed 4:30 a.m. Too early to call Mr. Mahoney and ask about using the cabin. He’d try to find a number to call once he was on the road. If he couldn’t rent the Mahoney cabin, there were several others on the lake, a couple of them rentals, as he recalled. Grabbing a suitcase from the closet, he slung it on the bed and started packing.

      Fifteen years. That’s how long he’d been away. He couldn’t help but remember that last day sitting with Keri on the bank overlooking the lake. He smiled at the memory of her sweet kiss. A first for them both.

      Was she still in Briarwood? He didn’t count on seeing her, not in this weather and considering the cabin was at least an hour’s drive away from the small town where he’d spent the first fourteen years of his life. Still, the memories were sweet, and he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had panned out. Better than his, he hoped.

      The twins mumbled their displeasure when he woke them a few moments later.

      “Where’re we going, Dad?” Billy asked with a yawn.

      “You’ll find out.” He settled the boys at the kitchen table. Made them toast, then snatched a leftover ham from the fridge. Just as he started to slice through the meat to make sandwiches for the road, a thud caught his attention, he turned and felt the pain in his finger as the blade nicked the tender flesh of his thumb.

      He winced. “What happened?”

      “Billy fell out of his chair.”

      “You all right, Billy?”

      The child sat up on the floor, sleepy-eyed but nodding. “I’m okay.”

      “You’re bleeding, Dad.” Josh’s voice rang with tension.

      Justin glanced at his throbbing finger. Blood dripped onto the floor. He turned quickly to the sink and ran his finger under the water, grateful it wasn’t a deep cut. He grabbed a bandage and covered the wound.

      When he turned back around, Josh had wiped up the blood from the floor. However, the boy’s face had also lost all color and he sat holding the rag in his hand.

      “Here, give me that, son.”

      Josh relinquished the cloth and turned away.

      With a sigh, Justin ruffled his head. “You two get some movies and toys. Only what will fit in your schoolbags.”

      He watched them, Billy scrambling with his usual fervor, Josh slinking away as though he couldn’t care less.

      A wave of helplessness washed over Justin. Nothing seemed to help Josh cope with the events of the past months. Counseling hadn’t helped. Not so far, anyway. Church wasn’t restoring the child’s soul. Yet he believed God was faithful. He had built a life and ministry on that belief. Once he’d returned to God, he would have built his marriage on the same belief if Amelia had been open. But religion was never her thing, as she reminded him every time he tried to talk to her about God.

      If only she’d listened. Maybe she’d still be alive.

      Chapter Two

      “Let’s get one thing straight, Junior. No one made you crawl behind that wheel and drive drunk.” The barred door clanged shut with the same finality that rang in Deputy Keri Mahoney’s voice. “You’re in jail because you deserve it, so stop whining.”

      “You just ain’t got no compassion in your soul.” Hours after his arrest for drunk driving, Junior Connor’s words were still slurred, doing little to strengthen his case with Keri. “But I don’t guess I should expect no more from a power-hungry female, doin’ a man’s job.”

      Keri ignored the familiar comment. She was accustomed to the fact that most of the men in Briarwood, Missouri, hadn’t progressed past 1950 in terms of male/female relationships. But that wasn’t Junior’s only problem. He was a drunk. Keri had no tolerance for drunks, thugs or idiots who ran red lights through school zones. Junior embodied all three.

      “Drinking and driving kills people. You remember my mama, don’t you?”

      “Sure, I remember her. Fine woman.” He snorted. “Too bad you ain’t got none of her qualities.”

      Keri stomped back across the lemony-clean concrete floor and glared at him through the bars. He’d already made it to his bunk and his eyelids were half shut, so she knew she was more than likely wasting her breath, but the words hissed from between her clenched teeth like steam from a kettle. “Maybe I’d have gotten some of her qualities if a low-life drunk like you hadn’t killed her before she had the chance to teach me.”

      He opened one eye and shot up straight from his cot. “You know good and well I ain’t never killed no one. Ain’t even all that drunk, if you wanna know the truth of it.” He pointed his gnarly finger. “You didn’t have no call to go arresting me in the first place. I got half a mind to sue the department.”

      Disgusted, Keri didn’t trust herself to answer. If Junior didn’t shut up pretty soon, she might have to accidentally toss the key to his cell out the window.

      “You hear me, girl? I’ll sue you and this whole department. I’ll own the town before it’s all over.”

      “Go ahead and sue, if you can get your lawyer to return your phone calls.” She spun around and headed back to the twenty-five-year-old metal desk, where a stack of paperwork and an extra-large pumpkin cappuccino from the local Quick Shop awaited her. If only Junior would go to sleep and give her some peace and quiet, she’d have it all done before her shift ended at 7:00 a.m. Then she had two weeks of vacation coming.

      Dad had suggested—no, downright insisted—she take her two weeks this year, even if he had to sneak out and flatten all four of her tires once they got to the cabin to make sure she stuck to the bargain. He didn’t have to worry about that. For now, she needed solace. Quiet. Time for reflection.

      Given her history of taking working vacations, Keri had to admit her dad was right to be skeptical. But this year things were going to be different. Her resolve was strong. Under no circumstance was she going to stay home where the chief could drag her out of the house with some flimsy excuse again, as he had every year since she’d joined the force.

      With a weary sigh she plopped into her chair and rolled up to the desk. She scowled at the mountain-high stack of papers. As the only