LITMIR.BIZ

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and uphold them when his dad, Sheriff Sam Colton, had been killed, they might not have even survived, let alone made new lives for themselves.

      Which reminded him. He needed to touch base with his mom and Otis to fill them in before they learned the truth about Jamie from the town grapevine.

      He smiled wryly. Given the speed of gossip in Serenity, it might already be too late.

      Dropping back, Shane fisted his phone, pulled up her number and dialed. A familiar ringtone echoed from just across the street. Marsha had apparently left the beauty salon when she’d heard the ruckus and was now standing next to Jamie Lynn.

      The call went to voice mail as Shane shoved his cell back in his pocket and headed toward them.

      He was halfway there before he realized he didn’t know whether he was on his way to inform Marsha who she was comforting or was simply eager to rejoin the attractive woman with the glitter of broken glass in her hair.

      The fact that he had to ask himself that question in the first place was more disconcerting than the potential answer.

      * * *

      “Please,” Jamie pleaded with the officer, “don’t make me go to the hospital again. I needed treatment the last time but this is just superficial.”

      The deputy radioed information, listened, then nodded. “Okay. The chief says you can go. For now.” His pencil was poised over a small notebook he’d pulled from his uniform shirt pocket. “What’s your cell number and where are you staying?”

      She recited her number, then pointed. “I’m at the Blue Jay motel, on the left past the stoplight.”

      “Got it.” He handed back her driver’s license. “Don’t leave town.”

      The irony almost made Jamie laugh aloud. She let herself grin at the young rookie. “You don’t have to worry. I plan to stick around.”

      Marsha patted Jamie’s arm. “Come home with us. I’ll get that glass out of your hair for you and then we can share supper.”

      “No, really. I couldn’t.”

      “Nonsense. Otis and I almost always have guests.” She smiled at her son. “Shane and Kyle are regulars.”

      That comment hit Jamie so hard she reached for Shane’s forearm and gripped tightly without thinking. “Kyle! Where is he? What did you do with him?”

      “Relax. He’s fine. I saw my pastor’s wife coming out of the courthouse and dropped him off with her.”

      A lungful of air whooshed out, deflating Jamie like a cheap balloon. “Oh.”

      The look Shane was giving her was anything but amiable as he shook off her touch. “There was a time, just a few days ago, when I wouldn’t have been afraid to leave him on a bench on the courthouse lawn all by himself. Then you showed up.”

      Marsha gasped. “Shane! What’s gotten into you?”

      “Her,” he said with a shrug. “Has she told you who she is yet?”

      Jamie Lynn was shaking her head. She hadn’t intended to spread the news quite this fast but, given the present circumstances, she saw little reason to hedge. Instead, she offered her hand to the older woman. “My original name was Jamie Lynn Henderson. My brother is serving time for a crime he didn’t commit.”

      “You’re R.J.’s sister.” It wasn’t a query.

      “Yes. I am.”

      As she watched, shock was replaced by an unexpected aura of peace that washed over Shane’s mother and gave her a beatific appearance. She clasped Jamie’s hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. That trial was a terrible ordeal—for all of us.”

      “Mother!”

      Marsha eyed her son. “Oh, hush, Shane. This young woman wasn’t involved. We can’t choose who our relatives will be or control what they do.”

      Although Jamie Lynn didn’t pull her hand away, she did say, “My brother’s confession was coerced. He wasn’t driving that night.”

      The disgusted noise Shane made needed no translation. Jamie Lynn looked into Marsha’s misty blue gaze and said, “I’m just here to find the truth.”

      Behind her she heard Shane add, “No matter who it hurts.”

      “The truth can set us free,” Marsha quoted. “Will you be able to accept it if you learn that your brother actually was guilty?”

      “Of course.” But would she? Jamie had believed so strongly that her well-loved sibling was innocent, she’d never considered finding evidence to the contrary. What if she did? What if their parents had been trying to protect them from worse emotional trauma by inventing the story about receiving criminal threats?

      But if that were true, if the threats weren’t real, then why send their daughter away? And why split up when Jamie knew how devoted to each other they had been?

      No. There was a lot more to this puzzle, to this town, than met the eye. And one of the best places to start getting to the bottom of everything was by keeping company with someone who’d had a vested interest in the whole scenario, right from the start.

      She smiled slightly, hoping Marsha was ready for what she was about to say. “I’d like to take you up on your offer but now that you know exactly who I am, I’ll understand if you want to withdraw your invitation.”

      “Nonsense. We’d love to have you.”

      “And I’d love to come,” Jamie Lynn said, seeing Shane’s face flush. It wasn’t necessary to win him over or gain even partial cooperation. Marsha was the one who would know the most about the events surrounding the hit-and-run anyway. It was Marsha she needed to quiz.

      Once again, her conscience reared its head, demanding attention. She reached for the older woman’s hand. “You need to be aware that I intend to keep probing and asking questions until I get satisfactory answers.”

      “Fair enough.” Marsha smiled, the outer corners of her eyes wrinkling to accent sparkling irises.

      Those were Kyle’s eyes, Jamie noted. The color reminded her of the ocean off the Atlantic coast; not exactly blue, not green, either, while Shane’s were more like the afterglow of a sunset in the forest, all brown and gold.

      Perhaps it wasn’t the hues that made those people’s eyes different, she mused. Perhaps it was the personalities behind their glances, particularly in the case of Marsha. Someone had taken her beloved husband from her, yet she was willing to befriend a stranger who she knew was kin to the convicted killer.

      What kind of person could manage to do that? Jamie Lynn asked herself. The invitation was evidently genuine and came without strings attached.

      Of course, it also meant she’d have to be around Shane for the rest of the evening. That, alone, should have shown her that she was getting in over her head, yet Jamie dismissed the notion. She knew what she was doing. A casual, frank conversation with the family of R.J.’s supposed victim was exactly what she needed as a base on which to build.

      She gently touched her scalp with the tip of one finger, wondering how anybody was going to be able to remove all those tiny pieces of glass without scratching her or clogging up their plumbing.

      When she glanced over at Shane, she apparently caught him off guard because, instead of the anger she’d expected, she thought she glimpsed empathy.

      Then again, he had shown concern by trailing her even after he’d learned who she was. His approach was not nearly as gentle as Marsha’s, of course. He had a macho image, not to mention a firm belief that his father’s killer had been caught and punished. Naturally he would resist an alternate solution. Anybody would.

      She pulled her gaze away from Shane and concentrated on his mother. “May Ulysses and I hitch a ride with you to the motel? I really should freshen

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