Reasonable Doubt. Tracey V. Bateman

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 full-time deputy in Briarwood for the past ten years, she held a dead-end job in a dead-end town, and as far as Keri could see, looming before her was a dead-end future unless she could somehow convince the all-male city council that she would be a good replacement for Chief Manning when he retired at the end of the year.

      She balled her fist, ready to pound the desk at the unfairness of generations of chauvinism, but then she thought better of it as Junior’s loud snoring sawed through the air. No sense taking a chance on waking him up—not if she intended to get through months of neglected paperwork.

      Just why the town couldn’t dig up the money for a new jail with an up-to-date computer system when they had recently spent ten thousand dollars on park beautification, she couldn’t fathom. Instead the good folks of Briarwood were stuck with an Andy Griffith jail, and she and Chief Manning were the Andy and Barney jokes of the town.

      Keri sipped a frothy taste of her pumpkin cappuccino. She sighed as the sweet spices licked her taste buds and tempted her memory with pictures of holiday mealtimes at the Mahoney house. She could picture them all sitting around the cherrywood dining table: her two sisters, Dad and Mom.

      Holidays never were quite the same after Mom died. Nothing was the same. Keri was finishing up high school, but her older sisters Raven and Denni were already in college by then. She was alone. If only Justin hadn’t moved away, he’d have been there for her during that time, and who knew where her life might have ended up?

      Impatiently, Keri dropped the drink cup into the wastebasket, as if to toss away the memories, but they persisted. And at the thought of her childhood sweetheart, the memory of Raven’s wretched phone call floated through her mind.

      Keri’s gut tightened. Was Justin a murderer?

      The heater fan roared to life, bringing her back to the present and to Junior’s whining.

      “That thing woke me up. If I don’t get enough sleep I’ll get a headache.”

      “Tough. This isn’t a hotel.”

      “I could sue you for violation of my civil rights. And don’t think I ain’t got a good lawyer.”

      “Yeah, a real good lawyer who couldn’t get you out of jail and won’t return your calls,” Keri muttered.

      He didn’t respond right away, and Keri found herself alone with her memories once again. The thought of her Justin harming anyone, let alone committing murder was almost impossible for Keri to fathom, despite her years as a police officer.

      “I need an aspirin. My head’s killing me.”

      “Be quiet, Junior,” she said without looking up. “I’m busy.”

      There had to be a reasonable explanation. Justin wouldn’t kill anyone. Not her Justin. Someone was making a terrible mistake.

      At least that’s what Keri hoped. A desperate hope. She needed to believe him innocent. If the same gentle Justin who had saved her from bullies and brought her flowers and shared her one and only kiss was a wife murderer, she might as well let Junior out of his cell, hand him a bottle of booze and throw him the keys to his truck. Better yet, maybe she should just join him on his next binge. Belly up to the bar, boys. Here’s to the end of all my dreams….

      Tears pushed at her eyes, but she blinked them away, and forced herself to focus on her paperwork. She made it through the end of the stack before Chief Manning walked through the door at 7:00 a.m.

      “Morning, Deputy.”

      “Morning.”

      “I’m sure glad you’re here, Sam,” Junior called from his cell. “That girl ain’t got no heart. I been askin’ for an aspirin for the last hour, СКАЧАТЬ