Bluegrass Peril by Virginia Smith Page B

so he didn’t distract others.
    He should probably have stayed at the Pasture while the police combed through the house. But he’d answered all their questions as best he could, then they shooed him away. After the horses had been fed and doctored, there wasn’t much for him to do except stand around in the barn and watch the stream of police officers going in and out of the house. When Trooper Whitley told him he might as well go home, he’d jumped at the chance to leave. A good worship service was just what he needed today.
    Unfortunately, the praise music had failed to direct his attention where it should be, to the Lord. And Pastor Greg might as well have been chanting in Latin for all Scott was getting out of his sermon.
    What could a thief have been after? The only thing he’d noticed missing for sure was the petty cash box, but Becky kept less than fifty dollars in there. Of course, a thief wouldn’t necessarily know that. Whitley and Detective Foster refused to talk about it, but another officer mentioned the possibility that a burglar had read of Haldeman’s death in the newspaper and knew the house would be empty. That made sense, but a shadowy doubt niggled at Scott. Why hadn’t the television and DVD player been taken? There was more to this than the cops were admitting.
    The break-in wasn’t the only thing on Scott’s mind this morning. Despite his determination not to fidget he shifted on the seat again, drawing another glance from his neighbor.
    Why did he offer to take Becky and the boys out to lunch yesterday? He’d been set for a solitary afternoon in the office, going through Haldeman’s records to see if he could discover the extent of the man’s gambling debt. Instead, he ended up throwing stale crackers to a flock of fat ducks and teaching kids to hand-walk across the monkey bars.
    He smiled, remembering Tyler’s victory dance when he made it all the way to the other side unassisted. Jamie, the less athletic of the two, couldn’t manage to get past five rungs before dropping to the ground. But he had an incredible mind for detail, and his face came alive as he told the stories behind about forty of those toys he carried around in his backpack.
    Becky had done a great job raising those two, if Scott was any judge. Sure, they argued a lot, and occasionally even got physical with each other. But she was quick to step in, and he could see they respected her.
    He crossed his right leg over his left, shifting away from the man beside him. He’d enjoyed the afternoon more than he expected. Especially Becky. She wasn’t one of those women who watched from the sidelines. No, she got right in there and tried to cross the monkey bars, too. She didn’t make it even as far as Jamie, but she faced her failure with a laugh and good grace.
    It couldn’t be easy raising two boys alone. She spoke of her father living out in California, and said she didn’t have any other relatives close by. She never mentioned her ex-husband, but according to Trooper Whitley, he left when the boys were babies.
    Thoughts of Becky’s ex conjured up another memory, one he’d prefer to forget. Megan, her face streaked with tears, begging him to understand why she was returning to her ex-husband, to her marriage. A wave of the familiar pain threatened to latch on to him again, but he fought against it, crossing his arms over his chest. She’d sworn the marriage was over, that it had ended long before the divorce made it final.
    She’d lied.
    Movement at the front of the room interrupted Scott’s thoughts. The worship team stepped into position to play the final song as Pastor Greg invited the congregation to join him in a closing prayer. Scott uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. But though he bowed his head and closed his eyes, his thoughts refused to follow the pastor’s words. His own turmoil tumbled out in a private prayer.
    Lord, I know I swore I’d never again get involved with a divorced woman.
    That oath was