Free Grace Interrupted by Julie Hyzy

Taser incident with Tamara and Rani, and the subsequent scuffle between Kincade and Davey Embers. When I told Bennett what Kincade had said about Jack having killed Kincade’s brother, Bennett flinched.
    “What happened between them?” I asked. “Jack didn’t actually kill anyone, did he?” My voice rose and I tried, without success, to slow my words down. “It must have been an accident, right?”
    Bennett didn’t answer.
    “You know what happened, I can see it in your eyes,” I said.
    He returned his attention to the spot over my head.
    I forged on. “Whatever it was had to have been a big deal. Everyone seems to know about it but me. Tell me. Please?”
    Again Bennett took a long time before speaking. “Are you and Jack romantically involved?”
    The question took me by surprise. “Not exactly. I mean, no. Every time we set a date to go out, something gets in the way.”
    He nodded absently, as though he’d anticipated my answer. “I don’t know Jack’s brother, Davey, very well,” he began, “although I understand the boy has problems.” He didn’t elaborate. “Jack, however, is a good soul. I never believed the rumors.”
    My heart thudded against my chest as I echoed, “Rumors?”
    Bennett leaned forward, picked up his coffee, and took a thoughtful sip. I could see a decision playing across his features. His eyes again took on that distant look and the clock on the mantel ticked about twelve times before Bennett finally spoke again. “I think,” he said, “it would be best for you . . . for both of you . . . if you talked to Jack about this directly. This is not my story to tell and . . .” Bennett’s eyes tightened. “I may not get the facts straight. Yes,” he said, focusing on me again, “this is important. Jack needs to tell you himself.”
    My mouth was so dry I couldn’t speak. Although I had to admit I didn’t know Jack all that well yet, I agreed with Bennett on one count: Jack was a good soul, a compassionate person. There was no way he could have killed anyone. Not on purpose, at least. It must have been a tragic accident. I swallowed with difficulty, wanting to beg Bennett to please tell me the whole story right now—this minute. But from the expression on his face, I knew my pleading would be futile.
    Bennett worked up a smile, clearly eager to change the subject. “How’s the roof?”
    “Better now, thanks to you.”
    I’d come home one day about a month ago to find workers on my roof, repairing the leaks and adding bright new gutters and downspouts. As much as I’d needed the repair, I couldn’t afford the expense. I’d tried to stop the workers, convinced they’d begun work on my home in error. That’s when I discovered that I had a benefactor in Bennett. I’d called him immediately. “This isn’t your responsibility,” I’d said.
    Even though our conversation had been over the phone, I’d heard the smile in his voice. “This is a small thing, Gracie. Besides, I always loved the old Careaux house. Let me help out while I can. I’m not getting any younger, you know.”
    Staring at me now, he continued, “Your house needs a lot more work. You know, it could be a real showplace.”
    I knew where this conversation was going and I wasn’t prepared to deal with it yet. I smiled, easing back into discussion of the recent murder. “The detectives have a consultant with them this time. A woman named Tank. She’s supposed to help bring the department into the twenty-first century.”
    “Just like your job is to bring Marshfield Manor into the twenty-first century.”
    “Something like that,” I admitted. “In any case, she seems very capable and I’m sure the police department is grateful for your generosity.”
    “Another small way to help,” he said. To my dismay, he immediately returned to the subject I most wanted to avoid. “Have you given any further thought to my offer?”
    I bit my lip to buy time. “I’m not ready,” I finally said. “My