Easy Innocence

Chapter 12

"SARA HATED to get up in the morning," A sad smile flickered across Melinda Long's face. "I still wake up thinking it's time to get her out of bed."

"I'm so sorry," Georgia said, aware how useless the words were even as they came out of her mouth.

A tall, lanky blonde, Sara Long's mother retrieved some hangers and garments from the dressing room at New Ideas, an upscale but casual women's dress store in Northfield. After reading where she worked in the police reports, Georgia decided to take a chance. She wasn't sure Sara's mother would be back at work, but she figured it would be less painful to talk outside her home. If she talked at all.

When Georgia walked into the store, she was surprised at its cozy, comfortable feel. A cheerful jumble of brightly patterned sweaters, pants, and even jewelry, New Ideas had a mix of the countrified, horsy fashions worn by North Shore matrons as well as the trendier workout styles favored by the young. Drawn to a rack of sweatshirts and pants, she let her fingers slide down the soft, fleecy garments. She even imagined herself in one of them—the blue one—until she saw the $240 price tag.

"People are shocked I'm back at work," Melinda said a few minutes later. She nodded toward a woman behind the cash register who was chatting with a customer. "I know Janelle was. But what am I supposed to do? I took a week off, but I just couldn't bear staring at four walls." She shivered. "Sara's brother, Jamie, went back to school. And Jerry's at work." She frowned. "I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?"

"Georgia Davis." It hadn't been hard to talk to Sara's mother. She'd recognized her right away. Melinda had the same blonde hair and slim build as her daughter. When she asked if Georgia needed help, Georgia nodded. The conversation had turned to Sara almost immediately. In fact, her eagerness to talk—especially to a stranger—puzzled Georgia, until she recalled that people dealt with grief in all sorts of ways.

"You're an investigator?"

"That's right."

A strange look came over the woman's face. "Forgive me, did you say you're with the police?"

Georgia tensed. She didn't want to mislead the woman, as she'd done with Claire Tennenbaum, but telling the truth might mean the end to their conversation. Still. "Actually, I'm working for some people who want to make sure the right person is held accountable for your daughter's murder."

Melinda clutched the hangars and clothes to her stomach. "You're working for that—that creature, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "But I'm just trying to find out the truth. I have no bias."

Georgia figured she had about five seconds before the woman kicked her out of the store. But Melinda's expression was unreadable, and after a moment she headed to a nearby rack and started to hang the garments. "You know, if you had come in here a week ago, I would have thrown your butt out of here."

Georgia nodded. The woman could see inside her soul.

"I wanted to nail Cam Jordan. I wanted to tear him from limb to limb. Make sure his sorry ass never saw the light of day. It was all so—senseless." Melinda sighed. "But then, I don't know. Things started moving so fast it made my head spin. Everything all tied up in three or four days. With a big, shiny ribbon on top. Closure, they say."

"You had a problem with that?"

"While I was at home, I started to think about it. And now—well—I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Oh, but it does," Georgia blurted out. "If you have any reason to feel Cam Jordan might not be responsible for Sara's death, you have to speak out."