“To protect Marissa and her unborn baby. My rebellious past made my confession credible. I was convinced my sister was a good person. She deserved the opportunity to raise her child outside of a prison cell.”

Denton took over the conversation. “Was the admission of guilt your idea?”

“No. Marissa begged me to help her. I walked in on her aiming the gun at Travis, but I couldn’t stop her before she fired. She told me he threatened to hurt her and the baby, and she panicked. She rubbed her fingerprints off the gun with a towel and gave it to me. The only time I’ve ever touched a firearm.”

“I see. You agreed and took the blame. Back then, Mike and I were unable to identify the smudged prints. Who besides your sister knows what happened?”

“Only you in this room.” I gripped my hands tighter and stared into the pastor’s face. “Today Denton and I had a conversation about what makes me happy. I told him about girlhood games with Marissa. Voicing them caused me to see my childhood in a different way. While Denton was outside, I remembered the conversation I overheard the day of the shooting but must have blocked out. Marissa had told Travis she’d never loved him and she deserved happiness. He couldn’t stop her.”

I hesitated but I’d come this far. “The more I thought about her words, the more ambiguity existed between the lines. Yesterday my niece shared with me Marissa’s lack of mothering skills. Now Marissa has taken off to Phoenix without telling her daughter or Dad goodbye. Reality of being played is hard for me to admit, but my sister is a manipulator. It’s possible she’s aware of all the threats and attacks that have happened since my release.”

I struggled to say what had shaken me to the core, haunting words I couldn’t shed. “Of all the people who have the most to fear and lose from my prison release, it’s Marissa.”

60

DENTON

I’d been convinced Shelby was innocent of embezzlement and suspected she might not have killed Travis Stover, but to hear it from her lips stunned me. Each time I considered Marissa setting up Shelby for those crimes, the more I saw the older sister’s maniacal mind. She must have despised Shelby. From the lack of response from Sheriff Wendall and Pastor Emory, they shared my same shocked reaction. I never expected Shelby’s confession to be my way of reconciling her past.

“You believe my story?” Shelby said.

“Yes.” Pastor Emory broke the silence. “The moral, spiritual, and legal implications of taking the blame for a horrendous crime you didn’t commit have me baffled.” He studied me. “Denton, were you aware?”

“Earlier today, she expressed the childhood games that Marissa initiated. The control over Shelby caused me to rethink what might have happened fifteen years ago. But this is news to me too.”

Sheriff Wendall stood and paced. “Hold on. What kind of games are we talking about?”