Page 77 of The Fall Back Plan
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I know how to clear her name and keep yours out of it at the same time. You’ve both worried about this enough. Consider it handled.”
Janice and I exchange looks, and I suspect we have the same question. We look at him and ask, “How?”
“Just trust me.”
Another pause, then both of us say, “No.”
Lucas laughs, and even I have to smile. “If you need the gory details, I’m going to shoot my public information officer an email in a few minutes and ask her to fancy my words up so they make an official-sounding statement which she will put out as a press release. It’ll explain the investigation has been concluded and that the dolls were left with the best intentions. She’ll write it up without identifying anyone by name and make sure Harvest Hollow Happenings gets it too. I promise because it happens every time within minutes of release. Just like that, it’ll be over.”
I sit there, absorbing that. I can’t believe it. By dinner tomorrow, this will all be settled.
“Miss Janice, did you drive here?” Lucas asks.
“I did.”
“Can I take you home? I’ll have an officer bring your vehicle to you in the morning.”
“No need,” she says. “My eyes are still sharp. Just passed a license test in June. But you can walk me to my car.”
“My pleasure.” Lucas holds out a hand to help her up, which she accepts.
She turns to meet my eyes again. “I’m sorry for everything, Jolie. Every bit of it. And maybe this will make you mad, but I promise I’m trying to help.” She pulls a business card from her pocket and hands it to me. “You’re doing right by the new place, Jolie McGraw. And more importantly, you’re going to do good.” Then with a nod, she takes Lucas’s arm and heads back down the east path with him.
When he returns a few minutes later, he sits beside me. “How are you?”
I consider the question. “I’m all right. Maybe even good?”
He nods. “Can I ask what she gave you?”
I slide my hand in my pocket and touch the card’s pointed corner. It has the information for two local Al-Anon meetings for supporting family members of alcoholics. I handed Shane Hardin that pamphlet with the same hope and doubt that I saw on Janice’s face when she handed me the card.
Looking at Lucas, his face barely discernible in the dark, I give him a true answer. “She gave me a step in the right direction.”
He accepts that without comment, and we fall into silence. My thoughts wander to the columbarium, and I shift to look at it. “That’s where I had them put my dad’s ashes. I haven’t been in there.”
“Do you want to go?”
I stare at it for a few more moments. “No.”
He only nods, and I wonder if he thinks I’m heartless. Or broken. I know I’m not heartless. I’m not so sure about broken.
“I’ll go eventually,” I tell him.
“It’s none of my business.”
He’s right, and it bothers me. I want it to be his business, and I can’t lie to myself about what that means in the bigger picture.
“Coming back here hasn’t gone at all like I thought it would. Ry is exactly the same. Sloane is exactly the same. But everyone else...”
“Everyone else is different?”
“Yeah.”
“Even the sainted Mrs. Herring?”
I smile. “Caught on that I’m a bit obsessed with her, huh?”
“Do you think she’d adopt me?” he asks. “Because I get it.”
