wife is cheating on him. If you could do one last case for us, I’d appreciate it so much. I’ll send you her picture and the file.”
“Promise you won’t ask me again?” he said.
“Cross my heart,” Daniel said.
“Okay, then, shoot me the stuff,” Noah said. “I’ll probably have it wrapped up in a week.”
“Comin’ your way as we speak,” Daniel said. “And thank you. Send me the bill when you’re done.”
“You know I will,” he said, glad for work that would take his mind off Miss Janie’s mind getting worse and worse.
The picture of a pretty blonde-haired woman came up on his computer almost instantly, and then an attached file with all the information Daniel had on her. Priscilla Wilson Carlton was probably at the top of Santa’s naughty list from what he read even in the preliminary report. His brow wrinkled as he tried to remember where he’d heard that name.
“No!” he gasped when he finally remembered. Prissy Wilson was the girl who’d given Teresa and Kayla fits in high school. It had to be the same woman. Born in Sulphur Springs in 1992. Married five years ago, and from the copy of the newspaper article, it had been the wedding of the county that year.
He was bound by confidentiality not to say a word about this to Teresa, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the case more than any other one he’d ever had. He rubbed his hands together and began to make phone calls.
Chapter Twelve
One day blended into another, and Teresa could hardly believe that she’d been in Birthright almost three weeks. She stopped ironing Miss Janie’s little floral dusters long enough to snap her fingers. “Just like that, time has flown by. I’m not ready for Miss Janie to be gone,” she muttered.
“Hey, would you mind if I bring my shirt in here and iron it?” Noah interrupted her thoughts.
She whipped around, iron in hand like a weapon, to find him standing in the open doorway. “What did you say?”
“I wondered if it would be all right for me to iron my shirt in here,” he answered. “It would save me having to tote that board and the iron into my room. I’ve got to do some research this afternoon, but I’ll be back home by bedtime. That looks like a lethal weapon there with steam coming out of it.”
“Sorry.” She set the iron back in the holder. “I’ll take care of your shirt. Bring it on in.”
“For real? That’s so sweet.” He disappeared and returned a few minutes later with a long-sleeved, pale-blue shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. “I usually have my things done at the laundry, but . . .” He raised a shoulder in a shrug.
“But there’s no dry cleaners in Birthright, and Arlene Patterson passed away at least ten years ago.” Teresa stretched the shirt out on the ironing board.
“Everyone in the community misses Arlene?” Noah sat down in the rocking chair at the foot of the bed.
“Miss Janie loved to cook and clean, but she hated to iron, so she sent her things over there until she brought me home with her and found out I liked to do that job.”
“My mama hated anything to do with housework. She always, always had a job somewhere on base, usually in a civilian secretarial position. So she had a housekeeper who did everything from cooking and cleaning to the laundry and ironing, and served as my nanny at the same time.”
“What’s your very favorite memory of your family?” Teresa asked.
He rocked back and forth for several minutes before he answered. “Sunday afternoons. That was what Mama called family day. We’d go to chapel and hear Daddy deliver the sermon and—”
She butted in before he could finish the sentence. “Your dad was an alcoholic and a preacher? How did that happen?”
“My dad, General Adam Jackson, always said he was a social drinker,” Noah answered. “He got the best of both worlds—his love of liquor from my granddad Luther and his love of preaching from his granddad, Arnold. The General served as base chaplain when he was needed, but that didn’t keep him from having his Jameson every evening.”
“Sounds like one of those oxymorons they talked about when we were in school,” she said.
“Kind of does, doesn’t it? Or maybe a little bit hypocritical,” he chuckled. “After chapel, we’d go out to eat, and afterward we would go exploring. That meant driving around whatever country or state we were stationed in for a