Page 58 of Shelter for Shay
“If you need anything,” Andy said, “outside the courtroom, I mean—just holler. You know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Andy.”
He gave her a nod and walked away, leaving Shay in the middle of the courthouse hallway, surrounded by murmuring jurors and echoing footsteps, with one truth ringing louder than all the rest.
She’d seen Blake Edmonds before.
She just didn’t know when.
Or why he seemed so interested in her.
15
SHAY – FRIDAY EVENING
The key stuck in the lock again.
Shay jiggled it twice before the deadbolt finally clicked open, and she pushed the door inward with her shoulder. The familiar creak of the hinges greeted her, along with the faint scent of lavender and lemon cleaner—a scent that always reminded her of her mother. Today, it only reminded her how exhausted she was.
Her heels thudded softly against the hardwood as she crossed to the kitchen, mail clutched in one hand, phone in the other. A group text from Becca lit up the screen.
Becca:Wine + pizza + zero husbands and kids. You in or what?
Shay smiled faintly. She needed this girls’ night like oxygen. The trial had drained her. Every hour in that jury box felt like an eternity under a microscope, with Blake Edmonds’ stare needling into her skin.
She dropped her phone on the counter and thumbed through the stack of mail.
Electric bill. Credit card offer. Jury reminder postcard, which made her chuckle since she was doing her civic duty.
Then she saw something that didn’t quite fit.
A plain white envelope. No return address. Her name was typed cleanly across the front. No smudges. No stamp out of place. It hadn’t been sent through the regular mail—nothing about it stood out, except how utterly wrong it felt in her hands.
Her stomach tightened.
She opened it slowly, the flap tearing in an uneasy silence. A single sheet of paper slid free.
Typed. Centered. No signature.
I can help you with your financial problems.
I can make it all go away just like I did with your mother.
But you have to play by my rules.
Margaret decided she didn’t want to do that anymore, so I made it go away.
Now we have a problem.
Your boyfriend is digging, and that digging could cost us both.
So first, make him stop.
I don’t care how you do it. But if he keeps going, I’ll put him down like a dog.
Second: I make your money problems disappear, just like I did for most of your life. You live how you want. I stay out of sight. Or… I expose everything. The accounts. The past. The truth. It won’t be good for you—or for your mother’s memory. It won’t just be tainted. It will be criminal, and you’ll be part of it.
Your call.
