“Your daddy didn’t see Jaxon setting those tires on fire. Nor did he see him coming out of Mickey’s. He saw his truck leaving the scene of the crime, but that doesn’t mean he’s guilty.”
She stared at Birdie. What was her grandmother talking about?
“Just because he got off because of lack of evidence, doesn’t mean Jaxon is innocent. You know how much trouble those Hennessys got into over the years. You know all the crimes they committed.”
“I wouldn’t call the naughty things the Hennessys did crimes. I’d call it unsupervised kids crying out for attention. And if you remember correctly, it wasn’t Jaxon doing most of those things—even though he always seemed to take the blame for them when your daddy came calling.”
“You’re saying it was another Hennessy who robbed the gas station and Jaxon just took the blame?”
“I don’t know for sure what happened that night.” Birdie paused. “But I don’t think your daddy does either. I think he saw Jaxon’s truck and just assumed it was him. When he got to the house that night and Jaxon got belligerent, he arrested him . . . without having enough evidence.” Birdie patted Tully’s leg. “I’m not trying to tarnish your daddy’s halo. I think he’s a good man and a darn fine sheriff. But everyone makes mistakes, Tully. We’re all just human beings trying to do our best. Sometimes we fall short.”
“Daddy didn’t fall short. Jaxon is guilty.”
Birdie nodded. “You’re entitled to your opinion. Just like I’m entitled to mine.” She paused. “But even if he is guilty, everyone deserves a second chance to prove themselves. Especially if their own mama refused to give them that chance.”
“What do mean?”
Birdie glanced back at the bank. “The reason Jaxon was here today was to get a loan to finish the renovations.”
“Why would he need to get a loan? I thought his mama left them the insurance money for renovations.”
“I guess it wasn’t enough.”
“So why don’t they use some of their inheritance?”
“From what I hear from Billy’s wife, they don’t get it until the bar is open for business.” Birdie shook her head. “I never did understand Rosie Hennessy. She had four beautiful kids and all she could think about was some silly bar.”
“It’s not just a silly bar, Birdie. It was the most famous bar in Texas.”
Birdie snorted. “You’ve let the townsfolk feed you a bunch of cock and bull. It was just a country bar like any other country bar. It certainly wasn’t more important than family.” She got up. “Now I’m heading home. I have some fields of cotton to plant.”
“You know you’re not supposed to be out in the fields—especially after getting conked in the head. You have sharecroppers to do the planting.”
“It’s still my farm. Like your granddaddy, I’ll work it until the last day I draw breath.”
Once she made sure her grandmother got to her truck, Tully headed back across the street to the sheriff’s department. Beatrice, the receptionist and dispatcher, greeted her as soon as she stepped through the door.
“I hear that rebel rouser claimed it was an accident.” She popped the Juicy Fruit gum she was always chewing. “As if. Once a bad egg, always a bad egg.”
Tully had always thought that. Now after talking with her grandma, she was feeling some doubts. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.
“Is Daddy in his office?”
Beatrice nodded. “He’s catching up on some emails.”
She headed down the hallway. Since her daddy never kept his door closed, she could see him sitting behind his desk hunting and pecking at his computer. The department had bought him a new laptop, but he still preferred his old desktop computer with the huge keyboard and monitor.
He was a handsome man. She had grown up watching the townswomen stammer and blush when he directed his deep blue eyes at them. As a kid, she had thought those eyes were like Superman’s and had x-ray vision that could spot a criminal from a mile away.
But could he?
He glanced up and those eyes narrowed above the small-lensed reading glasses he’d just started using. “Did you need something, Tully?”
She moved into the office. “I was just going to ask if you wanted me to run to Sloppy Joe’s and get lunch.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
He waited for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “What’s going on?”
