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Back Murder Past Due Save as PDF
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Acknowledgements
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE

Almost half an hour passed by the time I went back downstairs. Julia and Justin were quiet when I entered the kitchen. It looked as though Justin had been crying, but now he appeared calm. Diesel jumped down from the boy’s lap and came to greet me.

“I told Justin about his father,” Julia said simply.

I nodded. “I can’t tell you both how sorry I am.” I reached down to rub the cat’s head.

“Thank you,” mother and son said in unison.

Julia stood. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’d like to freshen up a bit. Justin, why don’t you help Charlie set the table?”

“Yes, Mama,” Justin said. He got up from the table and went to the cabinet. Diesel padded after him.

I started to point Julia toward the downstairs bathroom, but she waved me away with a smile. “No need for directions.”

Justin brought three plates out and set them on the table, Diesel matching him step for step. “Thank you for inviting my mother to dinner.”

“You’re both very welcome,” I said. “If you’ll finish setting the table, I’ll get the food there.”

Justin nodded and worked in silence for a moment. As I was putting on oven mitts, he spoke again.

“Um, sir, I guess there’s something I need to tell you.” He stood, utensils in hand, his head slightly down. He appeared embarrassed. Diesel rubbed himself against the boy’s legs, but Justin didn’t seem to notice.

“What’s that?” I asked as I reached into the oven for the casserole dish. I thought it might be easier for him to talk if I wasn’t looking at him.

“It’s about what I told you yesterday,” Justin said. “About my dad—Ezra—hitting me.”

I set the casserole dish on top of the stove, realizing I needed to put a trivet on the table first.

“Go on,” I said, my voice neutral.

“I guess I kind of lied about it,” Justin said. His face colored. “Yesterday was the only time he ever hit me like that.”

“Why did you lie about it, then?”

Justin shrugged. “He was being so weird about the whole thing, about Godfrey Priest being my dad, too. He kind of freaked out, maybe, and I guess I wanted to get back at him by making him sound bad.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “What he did yesterday is inexcusable. He never should have struck you like that.”

“No, sir.” Justin began to lay the utensils at each place.

“I can’t blame you for being angry with him. No one could. But I’m glad to know that yesterday was the only time something like that happened.”