Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,119
the way you mean. For heaven’s sake, he and Peter … I couldn’t have gotten the mural as far along as it is without them. You saw how hard they worked to help me.”
“Why is he still here, though? Where is Peter Thomas, by the way? Why isn’t he here, too?”
“He’s on the baseball team at the high school. But Jesse’s—” She didn’t want to say that Jesse had dropped out. “Jesse’s finished with school, so that’s why he’s still here. He helps me, and in return, I’m teaching him how to be a better artist.” She thought of Jesse dragging Martin’s body out of the warehouse. She would be in jail right now if not for his help.
“Pauline thinks you’ve gotten a bit too familiar with him,” Karl said.
“Pauline is wrong.” She folded her arms across her chest, proud of how firm her voice sounded.
“Is he harming you?”
She laughed. “Of course not.”
“You can tell me.” Karl tried to soften his voice, but it sounded false. She’d liked Karl so much, but at that moment, she didn’t like him at all.
“Karl, no, he’s not harming me,” she said. “Quite the opposite. He’s a big help to me. How many different ways do I need to say it?”
It seemed to take forever, but the men finally left. Anna worried they were listening outside the windows of the warehouse, even though she’d heard their car head back up the dirt road. She held her finger to her lips after they left and then went outside to walk the perimeter of the warehouse, knowing she was acting crazy again. But before she and Jesse spoke to one another, she needed to be absolutely certain they were alone.
By the time she was in the warehouse again, she’d started to cry. She stood in front of the mural, tears running down her cheeks, and Jesse sat on the crate just watching her go to pieces. Finally she was able to speak.
“I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.”
“My choice to git rid of him,” he said. “Only thing is, I believe I made it worse for you. Made you have to lie. Made you go plumb off your rocker.”
“I didn’t tell Karl anything about you,” she said.
“I knew you wouldn’t.” He let out a small laugh. “No matter how nuts you gonna git, I know you won’t never do nothin’ to make trouble for me.”
“We’ve got to think of ourselves as innocent,” she said. “We have to think as though we have nothing to hide. Nothing to be afraid of.” Her gaze fell on the mural, on the big blue smudge Jesse had painted over the motorcycle. She would put the motorcycle back in the picture. Tonight, maybe, or tomorrow. It would be her punishment for taking a man’s life, having to look at that thing every time she saw her painting.
Chapter 57
MORGAN
August 2, 2018
I was alone in the foyer at six o’clock Thursday evening, sitting cross-legged in front of the mural, when Saundra walked into the gallery carrying a large, rectangular box. I started to set down my palette, but she stopped me.
“Don’t get up,” she said. “I just wanted to drop these things off. Those sketches of Jesse’s I told you about and the diary.” She set the box down on one end of Oliver’s folding table.
“Mama Nelle’s diary?” I couldn’t mask my excitement at the thought of seeing what was in that book. I set my palette down and got to my feet, brushing the dust from the back of my jeans.
“Well, guess what?” Saundra said, lifting a thin, ancient-looking leather-bound book from the box.
“What?” As I moved closer, I could see that the book’s small gold lock had been pried open. I reached out to take the book from her hands. The leather felt like butter beneath my fingers.
“It’s not Mama’s after all,” Saundra said. “I believe it might be your artist’s.”
I simply stared at her, speechless. “Anna Dale’s?” I finally managed to say, as if there could possibly be another artist she would refer to as mine.
Saundra nodded. “The inscription in the front reads To Anna and it’s from her mother. When I realized it wasn’t Mama’s, I felt like I’d be intrusive reading it—not to mention I have zero time—so you’ll just have to tell me if it says anything exciting.”
I looked down at the book in my hands and gently lifted the leather cover. There, in slightly blurry, slanted blue handwriting, were the words: