“I think we’d all better sit down.” J.D. reached for Tiffany’s arm because she looked as if she might fall over, but she recoiled as if the mere thought of his touch sickened her.

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Stephen had a long talk with Sergeant Pearson down at the police station.”

“Oh, God—” Her voice failed her. She blinked and clasped a hand to her chest. The papers—the damning deed and note—fluttered to the ground, suddenly forgotten.

“It’s all right, Mom,” Stephen said.

“All right?”

“Stephen explained what’s happening. Why he’s been acting the way he has, what the deal was with old Isaac’s keys,” J.D. told her as he reached down for the note and deed. Folding them together, he added, “I’d venture to guess that right about now, Ray Dean and his son Miles are being questioned.”

“Ray Dean?” she repeated. “What’s he got to do with anything?” She licked her lips. “I knew he had been released but . . . is he involved in this?”

“It looks that way.”

“Oh, Lord.” Her legs seemed to wobble again.

J.D. reached for her arm and this time she didn’t back away. He helped her into the kitchen and noticed how homey the room appeared with its hanging pots, fragrant herbs, and children’s artwork on display. He’d miss this place, he realized, feeling a pang of regret. He’d miss the house, the kids and Tiffany. God, how he’d miss her.

“Tell your mother everything you told the police and me,” J.D. said, once Tiffany and Stephen were seated at the table. He poured her a glass of water, which she ignored, and he wished there was something, anything he could do to erase her pain. Though she was relieved that her son was only a minor player in the drama unfolding around Isaac Wells’s disappearance, he was involved nonetheless.

“So . . . so Miles told me if I didn’t do what he said and get him the keys and the car, his old man would hurt you, Mom. You and Chrissie.” Tears filled Stephen’s eyes and he looked more boy than man at the moment. Tiffany couldn’t bear to see his pain. “I thought I should try to protect you.”

“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to—”

“Yeah, Mom, I did. Dad wasn’t around, so who was going to take care of you?”