Cover Your Eyes (Morgans of Nashville 1)

“Why?”

“Because back then I figured I was in love with her.” Rachel’s off camera sigh cut through the silence. “When did you first meet her?”

“About a year before. I was doing work for her landlord. She was living with those two girls.”

“Joanne and Beth.”

“That’s right. They were roommates.” He shook his head. “Those girls was pretty enough, and that Beth girl had a boyfriend that lusted for Annie. I couldn’t blame the guy. When I saw Annie . . . she made the other two look plain. She was a hard woman to forget.”

The office door opened and Colleen breezed into the building. Rachel hit pause. “Hey.”

“What brings you in on a Saturday?”

“Work. A dismal personal life.” Colleen’s gaze skimmed Rachel’s computer screen, which now paused on Jeb’s craggy face. “Why are you watching the interview again? Haven’t you seen it a dozen times?”

“At least. I’ve read my copies of the Annie letters this morning. I thought if I watched the interview again I might pick up a new tidbit. Annie was in love with someone she called Sugar. He gave her nice jewelry and took her on fancy vacations.”

“I can’t believe that was Jeb.”

“No. Neither can I.”

Colleen poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled up a chair beside Rachel. “What did the letters say?”

“I’ve emailed you copies. Basically, they’re love letters. Annie is crazy about Sugar for most of the letters and then she turns bitter.”

“Ah. So it goes with love. She use a name other than Sugar?”

“She never mentioned his real name. Always Sugar.”

“That’s sweet.” No missing the hint of sarcasm. “What about the man she married? What was his name?”

“Bill Dawson. I’ve left him several phone messages but he’s not returned my calls.”

Colleen shrugged. “I can’t imagine he’d want to revisit his wife’s death.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone but there are questions that need asking.”

Colleen traced her finger along a strand of pearls. “So she could have been writing her husband-to-be?”

“It’s possible.” Rachel glanced at a legal pad full of her scrawled notes. “But Annie is careful about his identity and I get the vibe Sugar wanted their relationship kept secret. Bill wouldn’t have had a reason for secrecy. He was an up and coming guy fresh out of college.”

“Could his family have disapproved? College boy and honky-tonk singer. Like a Romeo and Juliet?”

“He wasn’t from money. He worked his way through school. No family legacy. No wife or girlfriend from what I can find.”

“What’s he do for a living now?”

“He’s a successful businessman. Owns a string of gas stations and convenience stores.”

Colleen eyed the computer screen. “Is this really a valuable use of your time? You don’t know if the DNA is going to help Jeb.”

“You’re right. I’ve paying work to tackle. But I can’t let this go.” Rachel held up her hand as Colleen opened her mouth to object. “And before you speak, this is not lingering guilt over Luke. Not today anyway. I’ve a gut feeling that there is much more to this case.”

A raised brow broadcast Colleen’s skepticism as she crossed for coffee. “So you’re going to reinvestigate the case?”

“If it comes to it.”

Colleen studied her. “When is the last time you slept a solid eight hours?”

A half grin tipped the edge of her mouth. “What month is it?”

Pearls jangled when she reached for more sugar, which she spooned into her coffee. “We both work hard but you work the hours of a crazy woman. You need to lighten up.”

“I know.”

“When will it stop?”

She glanced at Jeb’s frozen face on the screen. “When DNA proves he didn’t kill Annie and he’s out of jail.”

“Isn’t that what you said when you were working on your brother’s case? I mean you did what you set out to do. You cleared his name.”

“I created reasonable doubt, but I never found the real killer. And Luke is dead.”

Colleen’s voice softened. “Killing yourself is not going to bring him back.”

A rush of color flushed her cheeks. “I know that.” Colleen sipped her coffee. “How many days after Luke died did you contact Innocence Project?”

Rachel faced her computer. “I don’t remember.”

“I do. You told me it was twenty-four hours. You told me you rose early that morning, opened your laptop and sent them your résumé. What was the name of the first case you received?”

“Bobby Franklin.” He’d been seventeen when arrested for rape. He’d been imprisoned twelve years when Rachel took the case.

“And you dug into his case for six months before police reopened it.”

“DNA proved he wasn’t involved in the attack. He was released.”

“I know. You are an angel. And then there were a couple of other cases. All good endings. It wouldn’t hurt to slow it up.”

“I did take a break.”

“Three months. And you worked the billable hours like a crazy woman. Innocence Project called you about Jeb and you were off again.”

“Okay. What’s your point?”

“Be careful, Rachel. You can’t keep this pace up forever.”

“It won’t be forever.”

Folding her arms, she leaned back in her chair and studied Rachel. “Are you sure about that? Because I see someone who now has a mission to save all the downtrodden.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“If you don’t slow up, you will self-destruct. You’ve got to live a little. It wasn’t your fault that Luke died in prison.”

Rachel traced the edges of her computer. If she’d been savvier about the system she’d never had blindly trusted justice. “When the cops came for my brother he looked calm but I could see he was terrified. It was awful. I kept telling him he had truth on his side.” She swallowed. “When they filed charges I was sure we’d work it out. I thought the attorney Mom hired would fix it all right up until the jury read the guilty verdict.” She closed her eyes. “Mom wailed and I had to take her out of the courthouse. And later when the judge was about to read his sentence, I thought Don’t worry, the judge will see. He will release my brother. And then the judge sentenced Luke to twenty years in prison.”

“It wasn’t your fault he went to jail.”

“I could have kept him out of jail.”

Exasperation honed the pitch of her voice. “You would have lied for him?”

She released a breath. “One lie would have saved his life. He had so much in front of him. That experience scared him straight. I’m sure he’d have sobered and gone on to live a good life.”

Colleen’s glare conveyed her unspoken doubts. “Luke didn’t deserve what he got but that doesn’t mean you should be punished.”

Rachel glanced at her cold coffee and rose, moving toward the microwave. She popped it inside and hit one minute. “Like Jeb.”

“They are not one in the same.”

Rachel shook her head. “Aren’t they? I think they are exactly the same.”

“So what happens if you do clear Jeb? What happens next?”

The pleas of countless men and women like Luke and Jeb rattled in her head. At times their cries could be deafening. Still, she managed a smile for Colleen. “One crusade at a time.”

“Don’t forget you.”

The microwave dinged and she removed her steaming coffee as an uneasy laugh rumbled in her chest. “Let’s listen to Jeb’s story.” Grateful to move the topic from herself she hit play.

“I decided to drive by Annie’s house. I know what it sounds like but it’s not what you think. She was the prettiest woman I’d ever seen and seeing her always lifted my spirits. I was tired and dreading going home to a wife who was always angry with me. I thought I’d drive by. I know she’d

had a baby. I didn’t like thinking about the baby. I liked thinking of her before the baby. That’s why I’d stayed away while she was expecting.” He leaned forward and studied interwoven hands wrinkled and calloused by a hard life.

“Did you see her?”

“I did. I saw her through the window. And she was as pretty as I remembered. Her long blond hair hung over her shoulders. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that showed off new curves. I stopped my car across the street, lit up a cigarette and sat there for a time.”

“How long were you there?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Did you see anyone else at or around the house?” Rachel asked.

“No. There was no other car in the driveway and I didn’t see anyone in the window. Finally, I caught an old neighbor lady watching me and I realized I had to leave before she called the cops. I left.”

“What time was that?”

“About six thirty. I know that because it took me about fifteen minutes to get home. I always noticed the clock when I came in the front door because I was always figuring a lie to tell my wife.”

Rachel shuffled through the pages of her legal pad. “And you never saw Annie again?”