I thanked him and tried to pay, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “Are you helping me because I’ve become a victim?”

“I am. But it’s my job.”

“And my friends’ lives hang in the balance.”

27

DENTON

Nothing alerted me faster to trouble than a visitor at midnight. I opened the door to a man who sounded like Sheriff Wendall but was dressed like an insurance salesman . . . or a mortician. He relayed Shelby’s plan to trap the lawbreaker. A bit dangerous in my opinion. “She’s not trained in law enforcement.”

The sheriff huffed. “She spent fifteen years among the worst. The little lady may look like she just walked out of a candy store, but she’s smart and no fool. Give her a chance.”

Odd, I’d been obsessed about keeping her behind bars and read the reports about her high intelligence. Now I feared she’d get hurt. “Right. We’re on solid ground with Shelby.”

“Unless I’m blind, you’re fallin’ for her.”

I braced myself to deny the truth swirling through me like a twister. “Insane. Check out her record. I want the truth and the case closed.”

He chuckled. “Famous last words before the big dive into deep water. Are you in or not with the plan?”

“I’m in.”

“She walked here through the woods—and is waitin’ in the barn.”

“You assumed I’d agree before asking.”

“And I was right.”

I closed the blinds and doused the lights before we walked to retrieve Shelby, who sat in the shadows near Big Red’s stall but was no doubt afraid. I’d picked up on her fearlessness in the times we’d been together. Did the courage come from her prison experience or determination to clear herself of suspicion of theft? Or both? I might as well give in. Not only did I believe in her innocence, but I also was guilty of caring for Shelby, a convicted murderer. If I ended up looking stupid, I’d handle it.

We made our way back to the cabin. Once inside, we gathered at my small, round kitchen table.

“How long did you intend to stay out there?” I said to her.

“Until you agreed. Darkness can be a friend.”

Sounded like poetry, reminding me of what she wrote on the piece of paper stuck in her Bible.

She smiled at the sheriff. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me. This is way after hours, and I’m sure your wife and family would prefer you were at home.”

“The family’s fine, and they understand my dedication to the law. Let’s get this plan figured out. As it is, we’ll be here most of the night.”

“I’ll make us coffee.” I’d purchased some of Amy-Jo’s blend. “We’re going to need it.”

“I could use a cup.” The sheriff adjusted his hat. “Shelby, I’ll speak to James Peterson later on this morning.”

She nodded. “I work until two if he needs to talk.”

“The parole officer is in on this?” I said.

“He has to be in the loop in case this goes south.”