years?”
Her cackling laughter echoed off the mountain. “I am not that powerful, Sheriff Boles. And what purpose would it serve me to kill this innocent woman?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she knew something about you that you didn’t want revealed.”
“People think I killed my own boy. They already call me a witch, the devil’s child. What worse could they possibly say about me?”
He shrugged. He had no answer to that question. “Sometimes people don’t have a motive. They just snap and turn evil.”
Her head tilted beneath the veil. “You would know that, wouldn’t you?”
He didn’t like the eerie way she seemed to look into people, as if she could read their minds, see inside their souls. “I’ve seen a lot on the job over the past few years,” he admitted.
She clucked sarcastically, as if she knew he was hiding sinister secrets himself, and he kicked at the muddy ground.
“Look at me, Sheriff,” Lady Bella Rue said. “Dora Leigh was a hefty woman. My arthritic hands don’t have the strength to strangle her, much less drag her out in that field of kudzu and bury her beneath it.”
“But you have strength in your black magic?”
She adjusted her hat, looking nervous. “I dabble.”
“And who says she was strangled?” A.J. asked, his eyes slanting toward her. “The coroner hasn’t revealed anything about her cause of death yet.”
“Actually she was stabbed first. But that didn’t kill her. I saw the vines being wrapped around her neck, choking the life out of her,” she whispered.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. If she had used black magic to murder the woman, it would be hard to prove. Even A.J. didn’t like to admit he believed in the gift, because the power of magic was in believing. And he knew for a fact that Lady Bella Rue kept all sorts of eerie hoodoo items at her place. Gourds. Roots and herbs. Rattlesnake skin. Bones of animals. Chicken heads. Poisons. Some of the kids even claimed she had fingers from humans, but he had no proof. Yet.
She angled her veiled head toward him. “So you believe my spells and charms work?”
He stared beyond her to the woods, refusing to back down. “I think you live on the dark side of life. That you try your hand at black magic. That you have secrets, Lady Bella Rue.”
“Everyone has secrets,” she said with conviction. “But yours will be revealed, Sheriff Boles. Then everyone will know the truth about you.”
His gut tightened as anger bled through him. What if the old woman was right?
No…he couldn’t let the past catch up with him. He was sheriff now, respected by the town.
He’d do whatever necessary to protect his reputation.
“WHAT ARE YOU HIDING from me?” Ivy asked as Matt literally closed down in front of her.
“Nothing.”
She didn’t believe him. “Matt, what else happened that night? After you saw my mother’s body, what did you do?”
He finished his coffee and poured another cup, stalling. “I ran,” he said, disgust riddling his voice. “I thought your old man, or the killer, whoever it was, might still be around.”
“Did you hear anyone in the house?”
He shook his head. “No. For the past fifteen years, I’ve retraced that night a thousand times in my head to check if I missed something. But I don’t remember hearing or seeing anyone else. And when I got away safe, I wasn’t about to call the cops. I figured I’d get fingered for the crime.”
Which was exactly what had happened.
Ivy dropped her eyes back to her coffee. “Then they found my dad later that night in the junkyard, with a kitchen knife in his back?”
Matt nodded, his dark eyes hooded. “And the cops found my fingerprints on the doorknob. Apparently, I’d stepped in blood, too, which was on the bottom of my boots, along with mud from the junkyard, where I’d seen you earlier. The case was a slam dunk.”
“What about your lawyer? Didn’t he argue that you had no motive?”
“My lawyer was some young,
Her cackling laughter echoed off the mountain. “I am not that powerful, Sheriff Boles. And what purpose would it serve me to kill this innocent woman?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she knew something about you that you didn’t want revealed.”
“People think I killed my own boy. They already call me a witch, the devil’s child. What worse could they possibly say about me?”
He shrugged. He had no answer to that question. “Sometimes people don’t have a motive. They just snap and turn evil.”
Her head tilted beneath the veil. “You would know that, wouldn’t you?”
He didn’t like the eerie way she seemed to look into people, as if she could read their minds, see inside their souls. “I’ve seen a lot on the job over the past few years,” he admitted.
She clucked sarcastically, as if she knew he was hiding sinister secrets himself, and he kicked at the muddy ground.
“Look at me, Sheriff,” Lady Bella Rue said. “Dora Leigh was a hefty woman. My arthritic hands don’t have the strength to strangle her, much less drag her out in that field of kudzu and bury her beneath it.”
“But you have strength in your black magic?”
She adjusted her hat, looking nervous. “I dabble.”
“And who says she was strangled?” A.J. asked, his eyes slanting toward her. “The coroner hasn’t revealed anything about her cause of death yet.”
“Actually she was stabbed first. But that didn’t kill her. I saw the vines being wrapped around her neck, choking the life out of her,” she whispered.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. If she had used black magic to murder the woman, it would be hard to prove. Even A.J. didn’t like to admit he believed in the gift, because the power of magic was in believing. And he knew for a fact that Lady Bella Rue kept all sorts of eerie hoodoo items at her place. Gourds. Roots and herbs. Rattlesnake skin. Bones of animals. Chicken heads. Poisons. Some of the kids even claimed she had fingers from humans, but he had no proof. Yet.
She angled her veiled head toward him. “So you believe my spells and charms work?”
He stared beyond her to the woods, refusing to back down. “I think you live on the dark side of life. That you try your hand at black magic. That you have secrets, Lady Bella Rue.”
“Everyone has secrets,” she said with conviction. “But yours will be revealed, Sheriff Boles. Then everyone will know the truth about you.”
His gut tightened as anger bled through him. What if the old woman was right?
No…he couldn’t let the past catch up with him. He was sheriff now, respected by the town.
He’d do whatever necessary to protect his reputation.
“WHAT ARE YOU HIDING from me?” Ivy asked as Matt literally closed down in front of her.
“Nothing.”
She didn’t believe him. “Matt, what else happened that night? After you saw my mother’s body, what did you do?”
He finished his coffee and poured another cup, stalling. “I ran,” he said, disgust riddling his voice. “I thought your old man, or the killer, whoever it was, might still be around.”
“Did you hear anyone in the house?”
He shook his head. “No. For the past fifteen years, I’ve retraced that night a thousand times in my head to check if I missed something. But I don’t remember hearing or seeing anyone else. And when I got away safe, I wasn’t about to call the cops. I figured I’d get fingered for the crime.”
Which was exactly what had happened.
Ivy dropped her eyes back to her coffee. “Then they found my dad later that night in the junkyard, with a kitchen knife in his back?”
Matt nodded, his dark eyes hooded. “And the cops found my fingerprints on the doorknob. Apparently, I’d stepped in blood, too, which was on the bottom of my boots, along with mud from the junkyard, where I’d seen you earlier. The case was a slam dunk.”
“What about your lawyer? Didn’t he argue that you had no motive?”
“My lawyer was some young,
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