The Last Straw (The Jigsaw Files #4) - Sharon Sala Page 0,69

suggestion?”

“I’m listening,” Barrett said.

“You’re going to be inside for quite a stretch. It would behoove you to think of something else to do with what’s left of your life besides cause other people trouble. That’s all. I’ll let you know when we have to appear before the judge. In the meantime...the byword is low-key.”

And then he was gone.

Barrett was taken back to his cell and left to ponder the lawyer’s advice.

* * *

Farrell Kitt was down at the pigpen feeding hogs, and his wife, Judy, was in the house making supper.

Their kids were outside playing in the yard, and Farrell could hear their playful squeals and laughter. He couldn’t quit thinking about how close he’d come to losing all of this, and how gullible he had been, believing Jeremiah Raver’s claim that he’d had a vision from God, ordering him to send Jade Wyrick back to the hell from whence she’d come.

There was a part of him that still believed the woman should have never been born, but he hadn’t counted on her calling their bluff and calling them out. He couldn’t bring shame upon his family. Thank God no one knew.

He headed back to the house with a bounce in his step, looking forward to a good meal. Judy was still angry with him, but he knew in time she’d get over it.

He was walking toward the house when a car drove up into his yard. Moments later Judy came out of the house with their two-year-old on her hip. The kids who were playing all stopped and stared.

The visitor was Junior’s teacher, Mildred Pete.

Farrell started walking faster, hoping Junior, his eldest, hadn’t gotten into trouble at school today. Junior had his moments, and was sometimes a little hard to handle.

Judy was already at the car talking to the teacher when Farrell walked up.

“Evening, Miss Pete.”

She gave him a strange look.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“That’s what I came to ask you,” she said. “Your son was doing some bragging at school today. He said something to the effect that his daddy was worth a quarter and a bazillion dollars, cause he’d done a job for the Lord. And when his daddy got paid, he was going to buy candy for everyone.”

“Oh, my God,” Judy said. The look she gave Farrell was somewhere between “look what you’ve done” and pure horror.

Farrell went numb. He could still see the teacher’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. After all of the conniving and lying to his brother, their own child had outed him. But how? They’d been so careful.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Mildred cried.

Farrell just kept shaking his head when all of a sudden, Junior was among them.

“Teacher, did you come to eat supper with us?” Junior asked.

Mildred shook her head. “No, but thank you. I’m on my way home to my own supper.”

“Daddy don’t mind,” Junior said. “He’s got lots of money, don’t you, Daddy?” Then he looked up at Farrell and smiled, waiting for confirmation.

Farrell’s thoughts were in free fall. He just kept shaking his head.

“No, son. I don’t have lots of money. You go get your brother and sister and get them in the house. Tell them to wash up. Supper’s almost ready.”

Junior glanced at his teacher, then frowned.

“But, Daddy, I heard you and Mama talking about a quarter and a bazillion dollars that was on you.”

Judy grabbed her son by the arm and headed toward the house, dragging him as they went, leaving Mildred and Farrell alone.

“I knew it! I knew it the minute he said it! You’re the other one, aren’t you?” Mildred cried. “You and Jessup Wallis went and lost your good sense listening to that Jeremiah Raver. He’s never amounted to a hill of beans, and never did anything but preach hellfire and damnation to all his church members about their mortal sins. And all the while, he was partaking in criminal activities, and look where that got him! He’s dead, and you’ve shamed yourself and your family.”

Farrell just kept shaking his head. “No, no, that—”

Mildred jabbed her finger in his chest. “You were willing to kill a woman for how she looked, and now you’re trying to call an innocent child a liar? You’re willing to throw your son under the bus to save yourself? You are one poor excuse for a father, Farrell Kitt. Now...I’ve had my say. But just know that every kid in school probably went home today and told their parents