Familiar Escape. Caroline Burnes

      If Molly Harper had done nothing else, she’d inspired him to quit wallowing around and imagining the awfulness of Anna’s last moments and do something to help himself. She’d walked into the jail and brought his hopes back to life. “Damn,” he muttered.

      The man in the cell next to him spoke. “Hey, Lakeman, I hear you’re going to get the chair.”

      “Shut up,” Thomas said.

      “My lawyer tells me that Texas executes more people than any other state.”

      “Shut up!” Thomas grasped the bars as if he intended to pull them apart. “Just shut up!” But now he was speaking to himself, to the part of him that, once again, had begun to imagine Anna’s last moments.

      IT WAS MIDDAY, the February sun warm as Molly stepped out of the Jeep in the midst of huge trees and the chirping of birds. Spring was still several weeks away, but the forest was waking up from the sleep of winter.

      Familiar hopped out of the vehicle and started immediately to the abandoned tent that remained at the campsite where Thomas had spent Saturday night. Molly approached slowly, taking in the evidence that told of a hurried departure.

      There were the cold embers of a fire and a camp coffeepot sitting beside it. She touched the pot with her toe. Coffee sloshed in it. About ten yards away, Familiar was entering the tent.

      Beside the fire she found a Coleman lantern and a tin cup. Closer to the tent was a flashlight lying on a bed of pine needles and beside that a battered ice chest. The police hadn’t bothered to pick up any of Thomas’s gear. She lifted the lid of the chest and found three unopened beers, water, coffee, some apples and bologna. It certainly looked as if Thomas had been camping in earnest.

      So far, everything he’d said had checked out, but if he’d set up the campsite as an alibi, of course it would. She was reluctant to enter the tent, and that emotion surprised her. For some reason she felt as if she were invading Thomas’s privacy. Even though he’d requested as much.

      “Familiar!” She went to the tent flap. The cat had found plenty to explore. He’d been inside the tent for more than fifteen minutes. “Kitty, kitty.”

      The cat sauntered outside with what looked to be part of a newspaper. She knelt to take it and the cat used his paw to point out the date. February 17. It was the Saturday evening that Anna had been killed.

      “This doesn’t prove anything.” She folded the paper and put it in her pocket. “Thomas Lakeman could have planted that newspaper. He could have bought it and left it just to attempt to show he was here.” The newspaper didn’t prove a thing, but it was good to have.

      The cat gave one cry and began to walk the area. Molly watched him in awe as he created a spiral and worked his way from the inside out, examining the ground, sniffing the grass. She’d never seen a detective, much less a cat, conduct such an intense investigation.

      When he paused about twenty yards away, she went to see what he’d found. “A clue?”

      Familiar pointed to a hole in the ground. “Snake?” she asked, remembering that her father had always told her that snakes lived in holes. Though she enjoyed the woods, she was wary of the wild creatures, particularly snakes. The motto in Texas was that everything was bigger, and that certainly applied to the rattlers. A timber rattler could grow up to six feet long and as big around as a man’s muscular arm.

      The cat left his find and walked to another place. He stared at her until she followed him. Another hole. She frowned, realizing the cat was showing her a pattern.

      There were four holes on each side of the square and two larger ones in between. She understood. “A tent. So Thomas wasn’t lying about that. Someone else was camping here.” Why was the cat trying so hard to convince her of Thomas’s innocence? The answer was obvious—because he believed Thomas wasn’t guilty.

      “Why would someone kill my sister, steal her baby and set Thomas Lakeman up to take the fall? Why him? If he’s telling the truth, he was just my sister’s friend.”

      The cat didn’t have an answer, or if he did he wasn’t saying. But the question throbbed in Molly’s brain. Ever since she’d heard the awful news, she’d asked herself who would hurt her sweet sister. The name that always came up was Darwin Goodman. She didn’t say it, but in her opinion he was awful enough to sell his own child. And if a lot of money were involved, he’d even kill.

      “We have to get back to the jail,” she said. “I have another question for Thomas.”

      MY PRELIMINARY INVESTIGATION supports everything Thomas said at the jail. There is a second campsite where two people slept. And whoever they were, they left in a big hurry. At night. I found some of their gear scattered at the edge of the clearing, which leads me to believe they left before first light. That makes me wonder if they had a reason to be gone. Sure, I have a suspicious mind, but that’s why I’m such a good detective. I don’t let a motive sneak up on me— I like to see it coming.

      Call me a trained observer, but I detect a bit of chemistry between Molly and Thomas. She doesn’t trust him, not by a long shot, but she felt something for him. If she hadn’t, she’d never have gone to check out his campsite. One thing I’ve learned as a private dick is to always suspect the worst of human nature. Thomas, though, strikes me as a good man. Molly asked the right question—if Thomas is innocent, why was he set up? I think that’s how we’re going to have to approach this. Thomas is the key.

      With that in mind, I hope Miss Molly Marvel doesn’t blow a gasket when she realizes what I have planned.

      We’re back at the county lockup. It isn’t the most sophisticated jail I’ve ever seen. In fact, it’s pretty minimum security. They’re treating Thomas like he’s some kind of hardcore felon, but I suspect they leave him pretty much to himself once he’s back in his cell.

      It’s a simple lock and key system and I didn’t notice any security monitors. Should be a piece of cake. I just hope Molly can handle it.

      “MR. LAKEMAN, why would someone frame you?” Molly asked him.

      Thomas found himself sitting in the interview room yet again, with the beautiful brunette seated across from him. A week ago he would have been planning a way to ask her for a date. Now he was hoping not to frighten her so badly she wouldn’t listen to what he had to say.

      “I think I was convenient. Anna always turned to me when she was in trouble. There were a few times when she spent the night at my house with Kate. Darwin was drunk and she didn’t want to go home.”

      He could see what she was thinking and he shook his head. “Nothing like that happened. Anna and I were friends. Nothing more. You don’t know me at all, but you should know your sister took her marriage vows seriously.”

      “And how do you know that?” Molly’s question sounded angry.

      “She could have left Darwin and started a new life, but she wouldn’t. She never gave up on her marriage. She was committed to it.” He watched her expression change. Something he’d said wounded her, but he couldn’t figure out what.

      “It’s too bad she couldn’t commit to a man who didn’t slap her around.” Molly’s voice was hard.

      Thomas swallowed and looked down at his hands. He knew for a fact that Darwin had beaten—not just slapped— Anna. But it would only hurt Molly to think of her sister’s abuse. Better to keep the ugly details to himself.

      “So you believe you were just a convenient scapegoat?” Molly asked him.

      “What else can I believe? I don’t have a lot of money. I write software for computers. That isn’t the most controversial career.” He saw her look at his hands, the rough callused palms. His face, too, had seen sun and weather. Even though he’d been working indoors for the past two years, he knew he still carried the look of the open range in his features. “Before I got this job I worked as a cowboy on one of the large spreads.” That was