Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(91)

“Be right there, Mrs. Darby.”

While Hannah was opening the door, Andi handed Ms. Bergman her card. “I’m with WLTZ in Memphis, and I’m working on a story that involves the woman in this photo,” she said as Maggie took the photograph from her bag.

“She sent a Christmas card from this post office,” Maggie said, “and her box number is 129. Have you seen her?”

Hannah returned to the counter, and the two clerks passed the photo between them, then exchanged looks. A chill filled the post office.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t help you,” the assistant postmistress said.

“Can’t or won’t?” Andi said. It was evident the two women knew Jillian.

“Excuse me?” Ms. Bergman looked over her glasses at them.

“You obviously recognize her.”

“No, actually, we don’t—at least I don’t. Do you, Hannah?”

Hannah shook her head. “There’s something familiar about her, but she’s not one of our patrons.”

Ms. Bergman said, “Even if we knew her, people around here value their privacy.”

Andi balled her hands. They were so close, but the women seemed to be telling the truth.

The chill deepened as the assistant postmistress folded her arms. Maggie tugged on Andi’s arm. “Come on. Maybe we’ll have better luck somewhere else.” She nodded to the women. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Andi blew out a breath. Everything seemed to be stacked against them. They stopped outside the door in the lobby.

“Where do we go now?” Maggie asked.

“Local hardware store.” It was the first place Andi checked when she was looking for information in a small town. “We’ll show the photo around. Unless there’s a Walmart nearby, Jillian probably does business there.”

They found a hardware store two blocks down, and when they showed the photo, the storekeeper stared at it, then took his cap off and smoothed his hair back. “Why are you looking for her?”

Andi shot a look at Maggie. They hadn’t really thought about a cover story.

“I’m an attorney,” Maggie said and fished a card from her purse. “I hope the woman in the photo can help me with a case.”

“I see,” he said and studied the photo again. “Not sure, but this could be Mrs. Darby. Can’t remember her first name. She’s been living here about five years, comes in occasionally for plumbing supplies for that old house of hers.”

Mrs. Darby is Jillian? Andi looked down at the photo. It was way off. “Could you tell us how to get to her house?” Andi asked.

He looked them over, and she gave him her most appealing smile. “Guess it won’t hurt. But let me write it down—easy to get lost on those roads.”

Neither spoke until they were outside the store. “We were that close,” Andi said. “And now she knows we’re looking for her.”

“It may not be her. He just said it could be her,” Maggie said. “But let’s go find out.”

They got in the car and started driving. After twenty minutes of twists and turns, Andi made yet another turn onto a road barely wide enough for two cars. Two turns later, they were on an even narrower sand road. She wondered what drivers did when they met someone, and then saw a turnout.

“It says here there should be posted signs along the road. Have you seen any?” Maggie asked.

“No. I’ve been too busy making sure we didn’t go off in a ditch.”

“I think we’re lost.”



Will’s cheek throbbed as he drove away from the hospital. Dark thunderclouds formed to the west. Maybe he could outrun the thunderstorm. A text dinged on his phone, and he glanced at it while sitting at a stoplight.

Cass. His mother was the last person he wanted to deal with.

Be safe.

The fight went out of him. Hard-nosed Cass he could deal with, but not this softer Cass. He tapped on the details of the text and called her.

“Hello,” she said. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I told you I’d call when I got on the road.” That didn’t come out like he meant it to. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound so abrupt, but I got a late start.”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m just glad you called. You sound upset. Are you?”

“You could say that.”

“Can’t be me ’cause we haven’t seen each other. Tell me who, and I’ll take care of them,” she said with a chuckle. “Or, some people like to spill their guts to strangers. I’m willing to listen.”

He never knew when Cass was joking or serious, but this time what she said touched a chord. “I think I lost my best friends today.” He couldn’t believe he’d just blurted that out.

“Oh Will, I’m sorry. That stinks.”

“Yeah.” An image of Cass the last time he saw her popped into his mind’s eye. She would never make the first move, never say she was sorry for not being there for him . . . except she had, kind of, when she came to see him yesterday. He couldn’t believe it’d been less than twenty-four hours.

“I don’t know what to say, except if they’re really your friends, they’ll be back. And if not, they weren’t your friends to begin with.”