My injured leg throbbed in protest as I crossed the lawn, tiptoed through my dormant garden, and slid a key into the padlock affixed to the shed. I’m not sure why I kept the tiny building locked, but I’d bought a new set of tools after moving into my house, as well as a leaf blower and a self-propelling lawn mower, and had decided to err on the side of caution. Now I was glad that I did.
Because this was a bona fide potting shed, there was a pass-through window cut out of the rear wall. It was made of the same sturdy hardwood as the shed and slid open and closed like a barn door. Below the window, there was a small table and a ledge to hold seed trays and clay pots. I removed the padlock from the window’s wooden panel, grabbed a hoe, and, leaving the front door open a crack, snuck around to the back of the shed.
Hesitating for a moment, I considered the holes in my impromptu plan, but then I sucked in a deep, steadying breath and pushed the hoe through the opening in the window, knocking a stack of pots and a pair of gardening shears to the floor of the shed. The sound reverberated in the still night and I tensed. Would it be enough to lure Jasper away from the front of the house?
Pulling the hoe outside again, I slid the wooden panel closed, locked it from the outside, and waited.
There was no doubt that Jasper could move with stealth. He’d walked the woods of Red Fox Mountain for years and had told Trey that he knew exactly how to plant his feet to deaden the sound of his footfalls. He claimed to have been taught this technique by a member of the Cherokee Tribe, and if he’d been telling the truth, I might not be aware he’d entered the shed until it was too late.
“I know you and Trey are in here,” his voice suddenly hissed.
Jasper was close—so close that I had no problem imagining him as a lion on the hunt as he stalked over the grass and shriveled flower stalks. Luckily for me, I heard a crunch as his shoes came in contact with some of the pottery shards and knew he’d entered the shed.
I rushed around the building, slammed the door, and clicked the padlock into place a heartbeat before Jasper slammed into the door.
“Trey, let me out!” he roared. “You’re making a big mistake. You and your sweet mama are going to pay. You ruined me.”
Blood was rushing through my veins with such force that his words barely registered. Leaning on the hoe, I panted for a moment, stunned that I’d succeeded in trapping Jasper. On the other side of the door, he continued to shout threats and expletives until my anger flared red-hot.
“How dare you?” I hollered back at him. “How dare you abuse my son’s trust and then show up at my home in the middle of the night? How dare you sell harmful drugs to kids? They might not know better, but you should. So help me, Jasper, if you come out of that shed I will bash your brains in with this garden hoe.”
Jasper’s incensed pounding ceased.
“Do you realize what you’ve put your sister through?” I continued mercilessly. “How scared she is? If it weren’t for Trey, she would have fallen apart by now. You broke her heart, Jasper. What do you think will happen to her now?”
My words were met with silence. It lasted for a long time. A breeze rustled through the bare branches of the oak tree in the far corner of my yard, and I gazed up at the ink black sky, finding comfort in the presence of the high stars.
“Where is she?” Jasper finally asked in a soft, defeated voice.
“With Trey and my mother. She’d like to go to college but doesn’t have the money. Her big brother ran away with all of it. She’s got nothing but the clothes on her back.” I was being cruel, but I couldn’t help it. Jasper deserved to suffer for betraying and endangering so many others.
A thud came from inside the shed, and when Jasper spoke next, his voice was lower to the ground and I could only assume that he’d sunk to his knees, literally floored by guilt and regret. “I hid my ATM card in one of the birdhouses at the clearing,” he said. “You know the place. Iris brought you there after Marlette was killed. The password is Iris’s birth date. Please…tell her…” he trailed off.
A shrill siren cut through the night’s hush. The cops had entered the neighborhood and would be pulling into my driveway in a matter of seconds.
“I’ll tell her where to find the bank card,” I assured Jasper.
The sirens grew louder. Rotating white and blue lights suddenly illuminated the side of my house, throwing multicolored beams into the shrubbery and trees.
“Lila!” Sean called out.
“Back here,” I yelled in reply, my voice sounding hoarse and tired.
A car door slammed, the beam of a flashlight wobbled over the grass, and I could hear him running toward me.
“Wait,” Jasper pleaded. “Tell Iris that I’m sorry. I grew greedy and forgot my purpose. Tell her that I never wanted to hurt her. Or anyone else. That I was happiest when things were simple. I screwed it all up and I’d do anything to make it right. Will you help my sister?”
“I will,” I promised, and then Sean was there.