Page 4 of Where Secrets Lie

“Then what happened?”

“I thought he might start shooting any second, so I tried to get him talking. If I was going to die, I wanted you to have as much evidence as possible to prosecute him for murdering us.” He pushed his mouth into a half smile. “Fortunately, he’s more of a talker than a thinker. You know the old law enforcement saying: ‘We never catch the smart ones.’” Hez savored the spasm of impotent rage that flashed across Beckett’s face. He hoped the jury saw it too.

“What exactly did he say?”

The jury would doubtless hear the tape several times over the course of the trial, but Hez knew the impact live testimony could have, and he was sure Hope did too. He turned to the jurors, making eye contact with each one as he spoke. “He said he’d rented the boat and bought the gun using my credit card. He told me that he planned to make it look like a murder-suicide—that I was unstable and killed my wife and nephew before turning the gun on myself. He said it would be how the world remembered me, my epitaph.”

He paused as the memory rushed back over him. “I’ll never forget the look on his face. He was smug, proud of himself. He was about to kill three people, including a child, and he was patting himself on the back.”

“What happened next?”

“I heard another boat approaching and then a Coast Guard air horn.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’ll never again complain about how loud those things are.” Several jurors smiled and one suppressed a chuckle.

Hope turned to the judge. “No further questions at this time. Pass the witness.”

Chapter 3

Even the old gator Boo Radley wasn’t as terrifying as what waited on the other side of the door. Savannah smoothed her damp palms on her navy skirt and took a deep breath before trying on a smile. It felt more like a grimace to her. The undercurrents of uncertainty had been hard to miss in these final days of tenure approval. She should have been a shoo-in, but Tony Guzman’s résumé was formidable. While her PhD came from the University of Alabama with honors, Tony’s had come from Yale. Alabama was a good school, but it couldn’t compete with an Ivy League one.

With her smile in place, she twisted the doorknob and stepped into the conference room in the administration building with her head high and confident. “Good morning.”

Professor Charlie Hinkle’s warm brown eyes smiled back at her from under his white brows. He was serving as acting head of the history department, and his white hair stood on end, as if he’d run a distracted hand through it. She didn’t know the acting provost, Gerald Saunders, well, and she almost wished Ellison Abernathy back from the grave. At least he was a known personality, even if they’d often clashed.

Gerald, with his thick black hair, put her in mind of an agingElvis, and she resisted the urge to break into a rendition of “Don’t Be Cruel.” She bit the inside of her lip to choke back the nervous laughter struggling to erupt.

“Have a seat.” Gerald steepled his hands in front of him on the table. He waited until she slid into a chair at the other end of the conference table. “You have an impressive résumé, Savannah. Your family’s long history with TGU is much appreciated too.”

She absently fondled her bracelet before forcing herself to stop. They’d given her five years’ experience full credit when she was hired two and a half years ago, and she’d come with full expectations of being granted tenure. She was a Legare and that meant something here. “Thank you. I love TGU and my students. I have many fond memories of running through the swamps and open fields in my youth. It’s wonderful to be back.” She wanted to add “permanently,” but it felt presumptuous. She had to be granted tenure. The future she planned with Hez centered around TGU and the surrounding community.

“We have two very talented individuals competing for the same position. I wish we could offer tenure to both you and Professor Guzman.”

Thebuthovered in the room like an early morning fog off the swamp. Her stomach tightened at the sympathy on Professor Hinkle’s gnomelike face. “I wish that were possible too. Tony is an excellent professor.”

She’d sat in on Tony’s lecture on the Neo-Babylonian Empire and had noticed how enthralled the committee had been when he’d mentioned protecting ancient sites in Iraq. He’d worked to recover priceless artifacts looted from Iraqimuseums as well. It wasn’t even his specialty, but he’d been passionate and knowledgeable about all of it. But her expertise in pre-Columbian artifacts had made a huge contribution to the university already. No one else had her wide breadth of experience and knowledge about the Willard Treasure—not only the artifacts themselves but the history behind them as well. That had to count for something. The university press was going to publish her book on the Willard Treasure too. That was big news.

Gerald exhaled. “I’m sorry to tell you we have decided to offer Professor Guzman the tenure position. We’ll have to eliminate a professorial position and switch the course load to adjuncts, so there’s just not room in the budget for both of you. I know you were hoping for a different outcome.”

The news stole her breath, and nausea roiled in her stomach. “I—I understand. Tony is an excellent choice, and I wish him well.”

“I’ve already written you a glowing letter of recommendation,” Hinkle put in. “Several other members of the committee are doing the same. I hate to see you go, Savannah. I’m sure you’ll land a wonderful position soon. I hate losing you.”

She couldn’t wrap her head around the realization she had to leave this haven she’d found. Her legs wobbled when she stood. “Thank you for the recommendations. I appreciate them so much.”

She fled the room before she disgraced herself by crying or throwing up. Finding another job wasn’t as much of a problem as having their lives upended when they’d already been through so much. Jess had guaranteed Hez his legal clinic here. How could she tell him he had to relocate now? He neededthe stability of his beloved law while he continued the road to recovery. They both did.

Ella was buried in the family cemetery, and Savannah wanted to be able to visit with her baby girl at any time. She couldn’t move clear across the country where it would require a flight to sit by her daughter’s grave and watch the mourning doves pecking seeds in the grass.

Savannah shut the door behind her and, breathing heavily, leaned her back against it. Hez was testifying right now, and she couldn’t talk to him. Did Jess already know? Savannah escaped the building and rushed to her sister’s office across the green space. Tears burned in her eyes, and she wished she could blame it on the stiff January wind that made the fifty-five-degree weather feel like the forties. She entered Jess’s building and spotted her open door.

The clatter of Savannah’s heels on the marble tile alerted Jess as Savannah rushed toward the room. Eyes wide, Jess stood and came around the side of her desk. “Savannah, what’s wrong?” She tucked a strand of chin-length blonde hair behind her left ear.

Savannah stopped and pressed a hand to her midsection. “I didn’t get tenure, Jess. They offered it to Tony. I have to find another job.”

Jess’s mouth opened and closed before she clenched her jaw. “The rats. I’m sorry, Savannah.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Tony is a terrific professor. If I were on the committee, I would have picked him too.” She stepped past her sister and yanked a tissue from the box on Jess’s desk. “I don’t want to leave here. I want to be with you and Simon.” She blew her nose. “Where is he anyway?”

“He’s at the gym playing basketball with some of the guys. I told him to be back here in an hour.” Jess gripped Savannah’s upper arm. “There’s just enough time for some coffee and a cinnamon roll at University Grounds. Some carbs will settle your nerves. Try not to worry. I’ll help you find something.”

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