Page 74 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“You don’t know where I’m going.”

“I don’t. Wherever it is, I can help.”

“Jared, this is something I need to do on my own.”

That stopped him.

Her tone softened. “I need to talk to Joe. He’s the only one who can clear things up for me.”

“I’ll pray that you get your answers.”

Hanna got in her car and headed for her home. It was time to force Joe to tell her what he knew.

Jared watched Hanna go, a nagging feeling that he should have gone with her, that she was in danger running through his thoughts. He was distracted when Jude Carver decided to act up as Asa and Manny were trying to get him into the house.

“Get off me,” Carver hollered.

“Settle down, Jude. We’re just trying to get you to bed.” Asawas the picture of patience. He was on the left, Manny was on the right. They tried to guide Carver up the stairs and into his house.

Carver twisted away from Manny, shoving his chest into Asa.

As Jared stepped forward to help, Carver kicked out his foot, hitting Manny’s knee.

“Ahh!” Manny screamed in pain and fell over onto the porch. Jared went to Manny as Asa twisted Carver’s wrist, jacking him up into the porch post.

“All right, Jude. You just bought yourself a night in jail.”

Manny moaned as Jared checked out his leg. “Oh man, Detective. He dislocated your kneecap.” Jared turned back to Asa. “Are you okay?”

Asa answered, a little out of breath. “Fine. Let me get this guy in the car and I’ll get medics rolling.” He jerked Jude away from the house and toward his patrol car. As typical of drunks, Jude had shifted from being belligerent to whiny.

“Hey, man, why you being so rough?”

In a few minutes, Asa had him belted into the car and called for medics. Manny was in a lot of pain. By the time he was loaded into the ambulance, it was late afternoon. Was Hanna at home or on her way to talk to Everett Buckley? Since he still had a bad feeling about what she might walk into, when the ambulance left, followed by Asa and his prisoner, Jared climbed into his truck and drove to Hanna’s house.

CHAPTER 39

JOE COULD BARELY BREATHE.He felt his time was short. In the bed, raised up to a sitting position, he wanted to do more than watch a local news feed on TV all day. He’d watched footage of the barrels being removed from the lake. They finally found Blake and Sophia, Hanna had told him. He wished he could tell her that he was just as surprised as she was.

He watched and listened as Hanna read her press release about what was taken out of the lake, and his heart swelled with pride. She was special. But as he watched, fear started. A truth had come to light, and certain people would be angry about that. He’d had nothing to do with it, but he doubted that would work as an excuse. As events unfolded, he’d have to do everything in his power to protect Hanna. He had nothing to give for her except his life.

Using hand gestures, he asked the caregiver to give him a pad of paper and a pen. He’d written a bundle of letters to Hanna over the years. He’d brought them with him. The instructions were that they be given to Hanna after he died. They were just about his life in prison, how he’d come to faith, what he hoped for her—all the things he’d have told her if she’d ever visited. He’d never writtenabout what put him there. Holding the pen, he steadied his hand and began to write all the words he wouldn’t have the breath to say.

Hanna called Everett as she headed home. It went to voicemail. That was weird. Not even the service answered. They or Grover usually answered if Everett couldn’t. It only increased her worry about Nathan. Had he walked into some danger he never expected?

She parked in her driveway and jogged into the house. Joe was in bed. The back was raised, and he had the TV on. He turned to face Hanna when she walked into the room. She turned her radio down, not wanting to be interrupted by anything.

She saw him watching her, eyes moist, his chest rising and falling, breathing labored. A pad of paper rested on his chest.

“My colleague Nathan Sharp is missing. I don’t have time for games or lies. Joe, you didn’t kill Blake and Sophia Carson, did you?”

He held her gaze for a long minute and said nothing.

“He can’t get his breath,” the caregiver said. “It’s a progression of the disease. He won’t be able to talk to you.”

“You can listen, can’t you, Joe?”

He nodded.

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