Page 50 of Promise Keeper

"No, I don't want either of them charged, but it seems like they did the same thing."

"Not quite the same thing," he said. "Soapy didn't frame someone who was already a suspect."

My stomach clenched. Poor Ben had to deal with his mother committing a chargeable offense. Irene really was in big trouble. "She wasn't thinking," I said, rolling to my side and resting my head on his shoulder. The journal fell between us. "It was an honest reaction to finding a finger in her house. She didn't know what to do and did the first thing that came to mind without thinking it through."

"I know," he said, and kissed my head. "It's hard to believe it happened, but I know she didn't mean to break the law."

Snuggled in, Ben continued to read. I rolled to my back and reached between us for the journal. My fingers touched something hairy and I jumped to the edge of the bed.

"What?" Ben asked sitting up and looking alarmed.

"There's a mouse!" I pointed to where I'd felt the small furry thing.

Ben smoothed out the quilt and there was a hank of hair attached to a lavender, coin-shaped object.

"What on earth?" Ben picked it up and examined it. "It's hair stuck together with wax." He held it out in his palm so I could see it.

"Sealing wax," "I said. "Just like Mom and Carl's invitations."

"This belongs to your mom and Carl?"

"No. Let me see that." I plucked it out of his hand and took a closer look. There was a monogram stamped into the wax. "JLA! Ben, JLA! This had to come from the ring! I knew Fiona was tied to this somehow!"

"But Joseph Longo was cremated, Cam. It still doesn't make the bones his."

"Something weird is going on here. If that ring belonged to Joseph and it wasn't his finger, then it was on someone else. And that someone had access to Estelle Brooks since this is her journal and the hair and seal clearly fell out of it."

There was another answer, and I wasn't sure I could prove it, but tomorrow I'd pay Fiona another visit.

21

Ifound Fiona behind the counter in the train depot the next morning. "You better be here to buy a ticket," she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"I came to talk to you," I said, giving her a smile that I hoped was sincere and didn't seem to be trying too hard.

"I don't talk to Hayman's anymore."

"I'm sorry, Fiona. For starting a rumor I didn't intend to, and for Irene."

"Don't apologize for her, she wouldn't do it for you."

I set the journal on the counter. "I came to return this."

"How did you..." She turned her gaze to the back of the depot where the bookshelf stood underneath the window.

"Don't worry," I told her. "Someone tore out the good parts."

She grabbed the journal off of the countertop. "This is personal family documentation."

"Was Estelle's son Dalton's?"

Her face pinched and turned white. "Get out."

"Did Dalton steal Joseph Longo's signet ring? Was that Dalton's finger that Irene found?"

"I said, get out!"

"I found the loop of hair in the back of the journal held with the wax seal--the seal with Joseph Longo's monogram stamped in it. The monogram from his signet ring. Dalton had the ring, didn't he?"

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