Count on Me
Page 8

 Lauren Dane

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“How long has this been your personal project?”
“I left here and moved in with my uncle in Long Beach. I was sixteen. I spent the next year or so fighting counseling, but my uncle and my dad’s parents pushed until I went. Every time I came back here, I’d sort of lose my way and it took me a few months to get back on track again. But right before I graduated from high school, I read a piece in a magazine about the Innocence Project and a man they’d just freed from prison after a DNA test proved he wasn’t the murderer. I was eighteen.”
“You never doubted? Not even once?”
“They arrested him that night and he never came home. We all moved in with my grandparents here. They were convinced from that moment and we were never allowed to speak otherwise. But I just…” She shrugged. “It never occurred to me that he was capable of such a thing. He just wasn’t. And my mom was really smart. Strong. She wouldn’t have stayed if he was the monster they said he was at trial. If for no other reason than us. She would have died to protect us. If he’d been abusive, she’d have left him.”
“How do your grandparents feel about this whole thing?”
“It’s complicated.” She snorted. “I mean, you know them. I know the Lassiters and Chases have been friends for a few generations now. They believe what they believe, which is their right. I don’t think they were ever going to hear anything else than my father’s guilt.”
“I’ve known your grandparents a long time, yes. And your grandmother is…well, you’re a lot like her. She’s very sure of her opinions. But unlike you, I’m not sure she’s looked into any other explanations of the murder.”
“Most people don’t. I understand that. Their daughter was killed. The authorities told them who did it and that was enough. It is for most people and it’s that way for a reason. But they see my leaving Petal as a betrayal. To them, I chose a side. We don’t talk about it. But when it comes up, as things people try to bury with resentment always do, it’s ugly and judgmental. They loved my mother and there’s no room for me to love both my parents. They see my belief in my father’s innocence as a betrayal of my mother.”
He didn’t speak for a long time, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence so Caroline made a serious dent in her meatloaf.
Edward liked Caroline Mendoza a great deal. It took courage to believe things others didn’t. Especially when he knew it had estranged her from her mother’s people as well as her siblings.
After his chat with Abigail and James at church the day before, he’d come home and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with his family. But Caroline had been in the back of his mind.
Caroline and her father’s case.
On the way home in the car, Polly had said, “The way they talk about that girl bothers me. Abigail has no right at all to make it out that Caroline is selfish. Imagine, Edward, what it must have been like for her growing up after her momma was killed. Her brother and sister always had Abigail and James there for them. But they talk about Caroline like she’s that uncle who keeps going to jail for stuff no one wants to talk about. I don’t like it one bit.”
His wife was clever, and she had a heart bigger than anyone else he’d ever known. He could see right then that Caroline would be pulled in to their family if Polly had any say. And he’d never seen a single person who could resist his wife when she set her mind to something.
“What do you think, Edward?” Polly had asked.
“About what, lamb?”
“Did Enrique Mendoza kill Bianca?”
“I didn’t go to the trial. I’ve read the articles about it. I’ve never been entirely comfortable that reasonable doubt was overcome.”
“People are going to be hostile to her. She’s going to need folks in her corner.”
“You proposing us?” He grinned.
“I never get in your work business. That’s your world and it’s not my place. But, if you ever thought maybe he was innocent, that she was right, well I imagine that would sway more than a few folks in town. She’s alone. I know the Lassiters have suffered, but they’re wrong to shut Caroline out the way they do. You can’t put conditions on love that way.”
Again, Polly had been right and he’d been thinking about it since then. He’d thought about it ever since Caroline’s resume had shown up in the office. Had even before that, on and off over the years.
He’d decided when he’d gotten up that morning to get some answers of his own, and what he discovered would help him decide what to do next.
“I wager you have a file. On your father I mean.”
Caroline nodded. “I do.”
“Can I see it?”
Hope lit her gaze but it was wary at the edges. “Why?”
“I’m going to be honest with you because I’m not very good at lying and I respect you too much to play games. I have never entirely felt convinced of your father’s guilt. I’d like to see what you’ve gathered up.”
“All right. And then what?”
“It’s not going to be totally easy, you know, coming back here and pursuing this. People feel threatened when you start hacking away at the foundations of the things they believe keep them safe. If I read what you’ve got and I am convinced of his innocence, you’ll have another person to help. Another person in your corner. But if I read it and I’m not, well, I’ll tell you that too. But I won’t ever make you stop trying to prove his innocence either way. That’s your business and your right.”