The next hour passed in a confusing tangle of questions from the sheriff that she couldn’t answer. They’d never met before, which made the situation even more difficult for her. She wished like crazy that the retired sheriff she’d known all her life, Gil Remington, was still on the job, but he wasn’t. Her hometown of Heart Lake had changed a lot since she’d moved away. Too much.
The new sheriff, Luke Hawling, was tall, dark-haired, and heavily scarred on one side of his face, which she found distracting. She tried not to stare as he quizzed her relentlessly about the real estate agent she’d never done business with, the closing paperwork she’d never signed by legal proxy, and the deed to her family’s homestead in the passenger seat of her car that turned out to be fake…which meant that her attorney had also been crooked. Her I-don’t-know answers piled up, making her sound like the world’s biggest fool.
Hot tears of defeat rolled down her cheeks, leaving her eyelids puffy and her heart even more raw than it had been when she’d first driven up to the place she’d once called home. She eyed theFor Salesign in front of the farmhouse and the redSOLDpanel that had been tacked over it, unsure what to say or do next.
It’s no longer mine.None of it was. She might as well facethe truth. She’d been thoroughly outfoxed by a con man, who’d put a ring on her finger merely to gain access to sensitive financial information. Then he’d sold her home out from beneath her and pocketed the proceeds. Without having ready access to the crash site, it was going to be that much harder to find out what caused the tragedy that had claimed her parents’ lives.
“No offense, Miss Garrett,” Sheriff Hawling sounded harried, “but why did you add James House’s name to your bank accounts and the deed to your home in the first place?”
“Because we were about to get married.” Her answer sounded pitiful, even to her own ears. “When my parents were still alive, they kept everything jointly in both their names.” In hindsight, they’d probably waited untilafterthey were married to move everything into both their names.
But I didn’t.
While riding the fumes of grief over the loss of her parents, she’d leaned a little too hard on her new fiancé and trusted him a little too much. She’d ultimately opened the door to the big bad wolf and ushered him inside the proverbial henhouse. To a man like him, she must have looked like an easy target.
“James House may or may not be his real name,” the sheriff warned. “My department will do some digging into his background.”
She could tell he wasn’t optimistic that the outcome of his investigation would go in her favor. To make matters worse, it was only June, and her new job as a kindergarten teacher at Heart Lake Elementary School wouldn’t begin until August.
She was going to have to find a place to live, which would put a huge dent in her savings.
Wait a sec!
She’d received a fraud alert text from her bank while she was driving, but she hadn’t read it yet.
Dread pounded through her as she tapped the screen of her phone and logged in to her bank app. A faint bleat of horror escaped her at the big, fat zero balance in her savings account. Her checking account, which should’ve had over two thousand dollars in it, was showing as overdrawn. A bank fine had already been assessed, leaving a negative balance in the account. She clutched the phone harder, as if staring a hole through it would change the numbers back to what they should’ve been.
I’m in so much trouble.
It appeared her ex had been up to his old tricks this morning. Assuming he was to blame, he’d done a very thorough job of cleaning out her accounts. She was flat broke and homeless to boot. For all she knew, the dirty white sedan she was leaning against no longer belonged to her, either. She used the backs of her hands to wipe at the dampness dribbling down her cheeks, sniffling to avoid the immediate need of blowing her nose.
“I think we should take this conversation inside.” Owen Tolliver’s calm voice jostled her from the waves of despair she’d been riding. “It’ll get us out of the sun.”
She gave a sobbing chuckle of disbelief as she met his gaze. A sunburn was the least of her worries. “I’m the woman who tried to kick you off my property an hour ago. You don’t owe me anything.” This was her problem—all hers. Her overly trusting nature had finally caught up with her. It was something her parents had warned her about for years.
“You’re also my sons’ kindergarten teacher,” he retorted, holding out a hand to her. “Someone I’m going to be seeing a lot of in the coming weeks and months. I don’t like what’s happened to you any more than you do.”
“If I still have a job.” She stared at his hand, idly wondering where he’d gotten the jagged scars crisscrossing the top of it. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
“You still have a job, Halle.” Joe Swanson strode up to them, speaking in a reassuring voice. He pastored the church she and her parents used to attend.
“I hope you’re right, Pastor Joe.” She wasn’t sure who had contacted him or when he’d arrived, since she hadn’t seen or heard him drive up. Regardless, she was grateful for his presence.
Ignoring the hand Owen Tolliver was extending to her, she turned and gripped the middle-aged preacher’s calloused hand like a lifeline. Like most other men in their small town, he rarely wore anything other than jeans and boots. On Sunday mornings, he traded his t-shirt for a dress shirt. On special occasions, he might add a bolo to his collar, but that was it.
“I ate breakfast with the school superintendent this morning.” He shook his head in sympathy at her, allowing her to cross one thing off her list of things to worry about. “You know how it is in a town our size. A hometown girl returning to teach school was bound to make the headlines. Not that I wouldn’t have heard about it, anyway. Folks tell me just about everything.”
“It’s because you’re such a good listener.” She swallowed hard. The citizens of Heart Lake called, emailed, and texted him about births, deaths, and every event in between. He’d been the one to pick up the phone and notify her about her parents’ tragic passing.
“Owen’s right,” he continued in a gentle voice. “We should take this conversation inside.”
She wasn’t sure she agreed that the man moving himself, his sons, and all their earthly belongings into her home was right about anything, but she offered no resistance as Pastor Joe tugged her up the porch steps to the front door.
The Carters trotted alongside them part of the way, looking hot and bothered. Jensen eventually muttered something about needing to check on the chickens, and he and Kenny shuffled off toward the coops around back.
Poignant memories slammed into Halle as she moved up the steps that squeaked with age. The egg-blue paint on the porch swing was peeling, and one of the black shutters framing the living room window was crooked. The farmhouse was in desperate need of TLC, something she should’ve stayed more on top of.
She stepped inside the house and received her next shock. The living room was empty. Her parents’ eclectic mix of leather and plaid furniture was gone, along with their collection of cuckoo clocks that had lined the walls, gonging and chirping at random intervals, since most of them hadn’t kept perfect time.
