A woman behind him glared with large blue eyes. “Did a storm trooper inspire you to blow a hole in your brother-in-law?”

I looked up. What was wrong with this woman? Had she never made a mistake? Sacrificed for someone she loved more than life?

“You’re a disgrace to our solid community,” she said.

Behind her, Amy-Jo’s and Edie’s mouths stood agape. But I’d not fall into the condescension trap. “What can I get for you?”

“A dozen of Miss Amy-Jo’s lemon tarts. The ladies’ mission group is meeting this morning.”

I selected the best pastries and placed them in a box.

“Is Mrs. Emory joining you today?” Edie said.

“No. The family’s on the mend from the flu, and she’s exhausted from caring for the kids, the pastor, and herself. The pastor hasn’t felt like working on his sermon, and he needed her to help finish it for tomorrow.”

I taped the box closed and handed it to the woman, forcing a smile to cover my anger. “I hope the ladies enjoy these tarts.”

“Extra napkins, please.”

A flow of sarcasm swirled through my mind. Unleashing my fury only demonstrated my pride.

15

DENTON

My plans for this morning were less than honorable but necessary. I stalled at my cabin until daylight before I walked to Shelby’s cabin. She told me yesterday her shift ended at two, offering plenty of time for me to search her cabin.

In the back of my mind, I wanted to come up empty. The war within me waged on.

Picking the lock on her door came easily, and I stepped inside, careful to lock the door behind me. Neat. Clean. The scent of lavender and wood permeated the room. And I planned to disrupt it all with the scent of betrayal.

Joy bounced in her kennel, and I lifted the latch to reach inside and pat her head. Good thing she couldn’t talk.

I started my sweep in Shelby’s bedroom, opening drawers and sorting through her few belongings. Most drawers were empty. I removed them and felt along the sides and bottoms for anything I might find to use against her. Inside her nightstand drawer, a journal appeared. Many pages were filled, and I wished I had time to read them. I reached for my phone and randomly snapped pics of several entries. No reason why I couldn’t return another day if something emerged among her writings.

I moved my rummaging to the bathroom, second bedroom, closets, kitchen, and living room. Nothing out of the ordinary snatched my attention. I returned to her bedroom and surveyed the area with the idea of reading her journal. Her Bible lay on the nightstand, and I picked it up. She’d underlined a lot of passages and made notes in the margins. I held it by the spine over the bed, shook it, and a folded piece of paper drifted to the floor.

Only God knows the truth, and He is Truth.

My mind turned the note inside out. What truth? Her faith, forgiveness, and all the God stuff?