Page 164 of Trouble Comes in Threes

I turned back to Neely Kate. “And everything looked okay?”

“As well as could be expected,” Jed said, still watching the kids.

“Jed just worries too much,” Neely Kate said in exasperation, waving her hand toward him. “Everything looks fine.”

“For now,” Jed finished.

I nodded and glanced at Joe, who looked just as worried as I felt. “I guess we’ll take it one day at a time,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I almost ignored it, but then I wondered if it was my aunt checking on me. Or maybe Maeve had heard the news about what happened in my office. I wanted to reassure them both. But when I pulled it out of my pocket, my heart fell to my feet.

Mason Deveraux’s name appeared on my screen.

My ex-boyfriend was now working for the Arkansas attorney general, and even though we had eventually parted on okay terms, I hadn’t talked to him in a little over two years. Seeing his name on my phone after recent events shook me to my core.

I started to tell Joe and the others that I was going to take this call and would be right back, but Joe was focused on Liam, who had splashed yogurt on the wall, and Jed and Neely Kate were off in their own world. So I slipped into the living room and out the front door, taking up my perch on the porch swing as I answered.

“Hey, Mason, long time no see,” I said, then I hastily added, “or I guess talk.”

“I know,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I’ve debated all weekend whether to call you with this piece of information. It could be nothing, but it could also be more than nothing. It only seemed fair to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” I asked, trying to hide my concern.

He paused. “A private investigator from Lone County, Arkansas, called my office on Thursday, wanting to speak to me about what I know about James Malcolm.”

“I know he’s living there now,” I said, trying not to make too big a deal of the fact that I knew his location. “Has he gotten into some kind of trouble?” Last I heard, he’d been keeping a low profile.

“The sheriff there claims he’s walking the straight and narrow, but we both know that men like him don’t stick to it for long.”

My stomach started to churn. I hoped and prayed James was living a clean life. He’d been given a second chance when he was released from prison. I truly hoped he’d found peace and love, even if he didn’t feel like he deserved either. But I knew that couldn’t be the reason Mason had called. “I presume you’re not just calling me to feed me some gossip?”

“No.” He paused for several seconds. “The PI’s name is Harper Adams. She used to be a detective with the Little Rock PD, but after she shot a teenager and was put on trial, she moved back to her hometown of Jackson Creek.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar, but I’ve had my hands full the past year or so.”

“I heard that Joe was elected sheriff,” he said. “That must keep you busy since you have all the kids.” He hastily added, “My mother loves you and your kids. She talks about them all the time.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not a stalker, I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“Good.” He took a breath. “I wouldn’t call just to tell you she asked about Malcolm. I’ve had the sheriff and the chief of Jackson Creek call me about Malcolm before, so that’s not unusual. What was unusual about this request was that she also asked about you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Me?”

“She’s curious about your connection to Malcolm.”

It took my brain a couple of seconds to process what he’d said. “What did you tell her?”

“I called her back on Friday to see what she was fishing for, but she never called back. Turns out her mother died as the result of a single car accident. She drove off a bridge last week, and they fished her car out of the river last Thursday. Her mother’s death is presumed an accidental drowning, pending the official autopsy report.”

“Oh my word!” I gasped. “You don’t think James had something to do with it, do you? It doesn’t sound like something he would do.”

It wasn’t his style. He was more direct.

Part of me hated that I knew enough about him to make that deduction, while the rest of me felt guilty for defending him. But I knew the man. He wouldn’t kill someone that way. Especially an older woman. In his own way, he was a man of principles. Or least he used to be.

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