One Good Deed(83)

“What else did he say?”

“Look, Jackie, I’m not…”

“Did he say we were unstable?” She grabbed his jacket. “Did he?”

He looked at her, searching the woman’s eyes for what was really inside her head right now. What he saw was a person who was starting to unsettle him. “He didn’t use that word. But, like you just said, he told me you were both strong women. And that he was—”

“He said we were violent, didn’t he? That he was afraid of us?”

“Look here, Jackie, won’t you tell me how your mother died? Desiree said it was an accident, but she wouldn’t say how.”

“Did my father talk about it?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“What did he say?”

“That…that maybe it wasn’t an accident.”

“Tell me exactly what he said. Now!”

Archer blurted out, “He said something about the truth destroying people and maybe it was better not knowing it, something like that.”

“And what did you say to that?”

“I guess I come down on the side of knowing the truth is better than not knowing it.”

Jackie said nothing for several long moments. She simply stared off.

“She fell.”

“Fell? How?”

“From the barn, the second story where they winch the bales up to the hayloft. She died from the fall.”

“Good Lord.”

“I found her,” said Jackie quietly. “I found her body.”

Archer held her tight. “I’m really sorry, Jackie.”

She abruptly pushed away from him. “I’ve gotten over it.”

“I doubt you ever get over something like that.”

“You’re wrong, because I have. I’m…I’m going to lie down now. I’m tired.” She rose, picked up her purse from the side table, and tossed him a set of keys. “For the Nash. Just leave them in the glove box when you’re done.”

He caught the keys and looked up at her. “Okay, Jackie.”

She disappeared into the bedroom.

Very disturbed by what had just happened, Archer was about to take his leave when the door opened and Ernestine walked in. Her churchgoing clothes were charcoal in color and modest and demure in design. Her hat had a little veil, and her hair was once more done up in a tight bun.

When she saw him, she looked around. “Where is Jackie?”

“She just now went to lie down. How was church?”

“Soothing.” She took her hat off and said, “Would you like some coffee?”

He eyed the bottle of Rebel Yell.

She followed his gaze, smiled resignedly, got two glasses and filled them with a finger each, and handed him one. They sat on the couch and sipped their drinks.

“Is Dickie Dill really dead?”

“Dead as they come. It was a close thing. Little man almost did me in.”

He was surprised to see her lips tremble at this. “I’m so very glad that he did not.”

He flashed her a grin to reverse her anxiety. “Hey, it’s all good.” He glanced in the direction of the bedroom. “Did Jackie talk to you at all?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Anything, I guess.”

“She was very frightened. And she was very grateful for what you and Detective Shaw did.”

“Nothing about her father, maybe?”

“No, not about him.”

“Okay. Uh, anything about me in particular?”

“Like what?”

“Just anything.”

“She likes you. She’s comfortable around you. She thinks you’re a good person.”

He nodded, feeling ashamed for trying to pry information from the woman.

“Can I ask you a question, Archer?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you care for Jackie? I mean, do you love her?”

This was not what he had been expecting.

“I’m, uh, well, to tell the truth, I’m not sure what love really is, Ernestine. If it’s feeling good with someone, liking how they look, and wanting to be around that person, then yeah.” He paused, glanced down for a moment, and then decided to say it. “But that could apply just as much to how I feel about you.”

A part of him wanted to keep looking away from her, but a stronger part of Archer compelled him to stare directly at her.

“I see,” she said, eyeing her lap.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. And I know that I put you on the spot with my question. But your words were spoken with a great deal of sincerity.”

“So, how do you feel about me?” he said quietly.

She glanced up at him, perhaps sensed the urgency, the necessity of having an answer showing clearly in his features.

“I like being around you too, Archer. Very much. But perhaps not in exactly the same way that you want to be with me.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, a man can’t ask for a straighter answer than that.”

They fell silent for a few moments. Then Archer said, “Jackie wants to meet with her father at her house, tomorrow night. And she wants you to be there with her. I’m sure she’ll talk to you about it, but I wanted to give you a heads-up.”