Final Justice. Marta Perry
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could remember being one of those kids, headed for a quick slice of Burt’s pizza or a serious talk about the nature of the universe over a cup of coffee at the Half Joe. Even now, Burt stood in the doorway of the pizza shop, his white apron pristine, surveying the downtown scene as he’d been doing for years.
A couple walked past Burt, arms linked, heads together, so absorbed in each other that the rest of the world might not exist. Burt watched them tolerantly. He’d seen young love plenty of times before.
Mason drew back from the window slightly, remembering those moments with Jennifer in the church gym. The attraction had been strong. He couldn’t deny that. Jennifer had recognized it, too. He’d seen it in the way her brown eyes widened, the way her generous mouth softened.
It was no good, of course. Jennifer wasn’t remotely like the women he usually dated. She’d want something real in a relationship, and he didn’t have anything real to give.
The door opened behind him, and he swung around, frowning. That was one of Eva’s more annoying traits, bursting in on him as if she hoped she might catch him napping or playing solitaire on the computer instead of working.
Now her eyes, sharp behind her old-fashioned half-glasses, swept the office before coming to rest on him. “Miss Pappas is here to see you. I told her you were working.” She made the words sound accusing.
Ignoring her, he strode across the office and pulled the door wide. Jennifer stood there, looking a little hesitant after hearing Eva’s greeting. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a single braid, and she wore the khakis and cotton top that seemed to be her working uniform.
“Jennifer, please come in.” He gave Eva a pointed stare. “Thank you, Eva.”
She had no choice but to retreat, but she shot Jennifer a suspicious glance as she closed the door behind her.
“Don’t mind Eva. She’s universally rude.” He guided her to the leather visitor’s chair and perched on the desk. “It’s nice to see you.”
The conventional words were truer than he wanted to admit. He reminded himself of all the reasons why anything other than friendship wouldn’t work between them.
“I hope you don’t mind my stopping by. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”
“Believe it or not, and I sometimes have trouble believing it myself, I’m the boss here. I get to take a break whenever I want. How are the kids enjoying the sports gear?”
A smile blossomed on her face. “They’re delighted. Actually, that’s why I came. They sent you something.” She reached into the oversized bag she carried and pulled out a sheet of newsprint. “This is for you.”
He unfolded it to find colorful crayoned images of kids shooting hoops and playing with the hockey set. Slightly crooked cursive letters proclaimed their thanks for his generosity.
The childlike simplicity of the picture touched him more than he’d liked to admit, even though he realized that Jennifer had probably engineered their thanks.
“It’s great. Thanks for bringing it.” She could have mailed it, of course, but she hadn’t.
“I had to come downtown to the print shop anyway.” She seemed to read his thoughts. “And there was something else that belongs to you.” She handed him a business-sized envelope.
“If this is a thank-you from Pastor Rob, you can tell everyone to stop thanking me.” He ripped the envelope open. “It makes me feel as if the world is surprised that I could be generous.”
“No, it’s not that. I mean—”
He flipped open the single page. His obviously shocked expression cut off her words.
It took a couple of seconds to comprehend what he was looking at. The sheet was a copy of one of the store’s print ads—the one with a photo of him that the advertising director had talked him into. An exact duplicate, except that someone had changed the text.
Instead of the usual invitation to visit the store’s semiannual sale, the ad had another message. Come in and meet Josie Skerritt’s secret lover.
The taunt seared his soul. He crumpled the page with an involuntary spasm of his fingers.
“Where did you get this?” His voice was so harsh it didn’t sound like his.
Jennifer drew back at the accusation in his tone, her eyes wide, her hands braced on the arms of the chair as if she wanted to flee. “Mason, what’s wrong? What is it?”
He took a breath, forcing himself back under control. “This letter. Where did it come from?”
“It came to the church office. Look at it. You’ll see.” She nodded toward the envelope, which had fluttered to lie facedown, a white rectangle against the dark blue carpet.
He bent, scooping it up, and flipped it over.
“You see.” Jennifer leaned toward him. “It came in this morning’s mail. It has your name on it, but the church address. We couldn’t imagine why anyone would send it that way, but I said I’d drop it off, since I was coming by anyway.”
He frowned at the envelope. It was addressed exactly as she’d said, in block letters printed in black ink. There was no return address. The postmark read Savannah, Georgia. Nothing to indicate who had sent it, and so many people had undoubtedly handled it that fingerprints would be useless.
Who could it be but the person who’d made that call to his cell phone, taunting him? Penny? That seemed the obvious choice.
But to what end? If she had sent it, what could she possibly hope to gain?
He looked at Jennifer, assessing her. She couldn’t have read the note, but she obviously knew he was upset. He could see nothing in her face but concern.
Still, why had the letter gone to the church? And was the fact that it ended up in Jennifer’s hands merely a coincidence?
FOUR
“Thanks so much, but I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.” Jennifer shook her head at the slice of moist, rich applesauce cake Kate held out temptingly. “I just wanted to talk. You didn’t really have to feed me, but it’s delicious.”
Kate put the slice of cake back on the platter, smiling. “Brandon will eat it. That boy will eat anything. And I have to confess—I didn’t make the cake. Parker did.”
“You and Parker are getting to be quite an item, aren’t you?” She hadn’t come to talk about Kate’s romance, but she just couldn’t resist. The love between the two of them when they were together would make anyone’s heart warm.
Even at the mention of his name, Kate’s eyes grew soft. “You could say that. You know where he is tonight? Taking Brandon to a scout meeting. Can you imagine how rare it is to find a man who cares that much for my son?”
“You’re lucky.” Her voice softened. Was she ever going to be that fortunate?
“Funny.” Kate picked up her coffee cup and held it between her hands, her blue eyes seeming to look off into the distance. “How much we’ve changed since college. I have, anyway. I want completely different things now than I did then.”
“No big career in music now?” She remembered Kate’s dream of making it in Nashville. And really, she’d seemed to have every chance at success, with her beauty, talent and drive.
“I wouldn’t have it on a silver platter.” The answer was emphatic. “I just want my family and my nursing, and I’ll be happy.”
“I’m glad for you, Kate. And for Parker. You’re going to be great together.”
“We are.” Kate took a sip of the coffee, and her expression turned brisk. “But come on, now. You didn’t come out in the rain tonight just to eat Parker’s applesauce cake and hear me being sappy about