“He told me never to speak of it to anybody or he’d be forced to tell the sheriff what he knew, and they’d throw me in jail until I was an old man. He told me to keep my mouth shut and never go back there.”
“What did you do?”
“I took off running across that meadow and threw up when I got to the other side. I went home and never told a soul. Never went back. But the guilt’s eaten me up ever since.”
“Why did you decide to tell me now?” Abby said.
Jay’s face turned a funny shade of gray. He couldn’t seem to push the words out and then finally said, “Because I think the man I shot … was your father. And the little girl with him was Riley Jo. The timing fits—so do the facts.”
Abby felt dizzy. She leaned back on her hands, her palms pressed into the grass, her mind racing in reverse.
“I remember the little girl was whimpering,” Jay said. “And seemed really scared. It never occurred to me in a million years that the victim was her daddy and she didn’t know the bearded guy.”
“Did you see her face?”
Jay shrugged. “Honestly, I was so stunned I couldn’t tell you anything else about her.”
Abby took a deep breath and then another and couldn’t seem to get enough air. “What d-did the dead man look like? You’ve seen pictures of Daddy. Was it him?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to take a good look at his face. But it was mostly hidden by wildflowers.”
“What about the bearded man—can you describe him?”
“Yeah. He looks just like the sketch I drew of the man you saw. Certain things about him stood out. The beard for sure. Piercing eyes like an eagle’s. Denim overalls and no shirt. Hairy arms. Big biceps. I’m sure we saw the same man, Abby. There’s a good chance that Ella is Riley Jo. The question now is: what do we do about it?”
Chapter 17
Abby sat, staring at Beaver Lake, tears trickling down her cheeks, her temples pounding. She felt as if her bottom were cemented to the ground.
The thought that her father may have been accidentally killed by her now best friend, and his body “tended to” by a stranger, was shocking enough. But knowing that Riley Jo may have been taken by the same man who had made no effort to find out who she belonged to made her sick to her stomach. Why would he keep her and not contact the authorities?
“Abby, say something,” Jay said.
“Like what?”
“Say you hate me. Say you’re going to the sheriff. Say you want me to burn in hell! Anything is better than sitting here, watching you cry. I know I’ve caused you another heartbreak, and it’s cost me our friendship. But you deserve to know the truth. I wasn’t hiding it from you. I honestly didn’t connect the dots until the guy called and you put your cell phone on speaker.”
Abby felt as if her heart would burst wide open. She let more tears escape and finally looked over at Jay. “I don’t hate you. You were just a kid. The guy told you the man you shot had no kin.”
“I should’ve told my mom and stepdad what happened.”
“Of course you should’ve. But you were just a kid. You were terrified of going to jail. And of disappointing your father and losing what little relationship you had with him. That’s really heavy for a twelve-year-old to handle.”
Jay wiped his tears with the bottom of his T-shirt. “At that moment, I’d have given anything to bring the man back to life. But what was done was done. I just wanted to forget it happened—but I never have. I’m so sorry, Abby.”
“That’s two of us.” Abby hugged her knees tightly and rocked back and forth. “If we go to Sheriff Granger, what will he be able to do about any of it now? And if the man who has Ella gets the slightest hint that we’ve told the authorities, he might bolt, and I’ll never know if she’s my sister. Or he might come after me, and we’ll both be missing.”
“Not if I go after him first.”
“How?”
“The reason I’m muddy is I spent the morning searching the woods near the place where I shot your dad. I figured if the man is a local like the sales clerk at Murchison’s told you, then he’s probably living on Sure Foot Mountain.”