Page 132 of Hometown Girl

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Ask me what?”

Beth turned and found Drew standing in the doorway behind her, eyebrows knit.

He’d entered through the side door. Beth sat at the table, her back to him, and Bishop stood, hat in hand, leaning against the sink opposite her.

They both turned and looked at him.

“Hey, Bishop.” Drew’s attempt at lightheartedness fell flat against the tension in the room.

Beth looked away.

“What’s going on?” Panic simmered inside him.

Bishop twisted the hat around in a circle between both hands. “Nancy said you were waiting to speak to me at the station. Before the storm.”

“That’s right.”

Bishop pushed himself to a full standing position and crossed his arms in front of him. “Care to have a conversation about that now?”

Drew’s eyes narrowed. Beth still avoided them. What was going on here? Did they think he’d gone to the station to confess his guilt?

Fists formed at his sides. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Beth first.”

Bishop glanced at her as if asking permission. She gave a slight nod.

“I’ll wait on the porch.” He left the two of them alone in the weighty silence of the farmhouse kitchen.

Beth stood and smoothed her white button-down over her jeans.

“Beth, what are you thinking?”

Her eyes darted to his, then back to the floor.

“I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you think.”

Beth shook her head. “I know, Drew. I know you didn’t.”

He let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. “I wanted to tell you, I just ... couldn’t.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her full attention.

It was time to let it go. Time to lay it down. And he knew it. He drew in a deep breath. “They never looked at me as a suspect. Not really. I was a kid. And I was knocked out cold.”

“Was it an accident?” Beth’s eyes searched his.

“No.” Drew took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, then over his face. As if anything could stop the pain that pulsed through his body now. “I came up here to tell you. I just ...”

He turned away, but before he could move, he felt her hand in his.

“I’m listening.” She sat down at the table and pushed out the chair across from her with her foot.

After a long moment, he sat. Wished he could leave. But one look at her told him he couldn’t. There was too much at stake.

He didn’t want to keep anything from her anymore.

“I was there,” he finally said after several silent seconds. “We were playing hide-and-seek.” He closed his eyes and, just like that, he was there, climbing the ladder to the old barn loft.

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