Suddenly feeling ill, she remembered the sight of the children’s graves she’d found in the woods of the Appalachian Mountains. She stood. “This is a waste of time. Talking won’t change anything.”
“Processing your feelings can help you move on,” the counselor said. “I know you’re angry with your parents.”
“They lied to me all my life,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “And they suspected Hiram but didn’t come forward.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “People in town think I knew. And that we covered for a killer. I’m a detective––how does that make me look?”
Either complicit or incompetent. Neither elicited trust from the citizens of Bluff County.
The therapist made a note on her notepad. “How are your parents handling the accusations?”
Ellie picked at her cuticles. “They’ve been charged with withholding evidence and accessory to murder, but they’ve attained a big-shot attorney who promised he’d get the charges dropped, starting an uproar in town.” Heat climbed her neck. “Everywhere I go, I hear the whispers and see the stares.”
Through the window the sun was shining like a beacon, nearly blinding her just as her parents lies had.
Kennedy leaned forward, arms on the desk. “There’s an online group you should join. Women talking to each other, sharing, offering support. It’s secure, anonymous, so you don’t have to divulge your real identity if you don’t want to.” The counselor pushed a business card toward her, and Ellie reluctantly slipped it into her pocket.
Unsettled at the idea of pouring out her heart to strangers, Ellie paced across the room, noting the woman’s credentials on the wall and books that filled the bookshelf. They covered a range of psychological subjects––eating disorders, depression and anxiety, behavioral disorders.
She’d never been one to surround herself with female friends. Truth be known, Officer Shondra Eastwood, her colleague, was her only female friend. They’d bonded because of their mutual dislike for Bryce Waters, Bluff County’s sheriff.
“I’ll think about it. Right now, I just need to get back to work,” Ellie finally answered.
Work was her salvation, even though her reputation with Crooked Creek’s police department was shaky to say the least. Her own parents had fooled her. How could she trust her judgment now?
“So you’re back at work already?” Kennedy asked.
Ellie bit down on her lower lip. “Actually, my boss, Captain Hale, ordered me to take time off to heal and let the dust settle.” Or maybe he was questioning her abilities, too.
“How do you feel about being adopted?” the counselor pressed.
Ellie frowned. Rejected. “Like the woman who gave birth to me didn’t want me.”
But she’d said enough for the day. Emotions were battling their way to the surface, emotions she couldn’t afford to confront.
“I need to go,” she said. Not bothering to wait for a response, she stormed out the door.
Two
Saturday
Stony Gap, Georgia
The next morning, Ellie’s stomach churned as she sped toward the sheriff’s office. She should have laid off the vodka last night. Should have just left town.
But a glutton for punishment, here she was on her way to watch Bryce Waters be sworn in as the new sheriff of Bluff County, the job Ellie had wanted all her life.
Her phone buzzed as she turned onto Main Street. Looking down, she saw it was Angelica Gomez, from WRIX Channel 5 News. Dammit, the reporter wouldn’t give up.
Shaking her head in irritation, she let it roll to voicemail. Remembering that Angelica was lining up an interview with Hiram, Ellie listened to the message. She wanted to know if he had divulged any more secrets, most specifically if he’d had an accomplice.
“Detective, I’m meeting with Hiram,” the reporter said in her message. “But everyone wants to hear your side of the story. Call me.”
Ellie muttered a curse. Angelica wanted answers. The town wanted answers. Ellie herself wanted answers. Who didn’t?
Angelica’s voice echoed in her ears. Don’t you want to set the record straight? Help people understand? Quiet the gossip?
Gossip fueled by Meddlin’ Maude and the busybodies in town who had nothing better to do than keep the rumor mill turning at the Beauty Barn while Carol Sue covered their gray with foils and teased the hell out of lifeless hair made worse by dye and lacquered spray.
Her mother’s so-called friends, including Edwina the mayor’s wife and the ladies at the Garden Club, had abandoned her the moment the news had broken. They no longer cared if Vera could win prizes with her violets. She had been ostracized like a wilted flower from the garden extravaganza they sponsored