Free When Rain Falls by Tyora M. Moody Page B

business.”
    Candace stepped back. She shouldn’t pressure the poor woman, but the police needed to know these things. When Pamela had brought Hillary to the salon, she’d struck Candace as such a shy woman. Quiet and unassuming. She had never really had a professional do anything to her hair. She could tell that Pamela liked the woman and wanted to help her with the then partial makeover, so she’d offered a discount.
    â€œI’m sorry, Hillary. I know this must be hard on you, too. Kinda has you in the middle.”
    Hillary’s eyes watered. “But not as hard as it is on you. I understand you two have been friends since middle school.”
    â€œYes. It’s going to be different without her.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.”
    Candace watched Hillary walk away, her shoulders hunched down.
    As she stepped back into the hallway, which was now less crowded, Candace wondered if Hillary knew more than she had chosen to reveal. The air around her seemed stagnant all of a sudden. Over in a corner she saw Mitch Harris talking to Pastor Freeman. Her inclination was to move closer to listen to the conversation. She moved forward. Her movement caught Mitch’s attention.
    Candace couldn’t read his eyes. There was sadness and something else. Pity. Surely, he wasn’t trying to empathize with her.
    She needed fresh air. Like now. Instead, as she turned, she bumped into one very solid body.

Chapter Sixteen
    For a brief moment, Candace recognized an emotion she hadn’t felt in years. The hand at the small of her back and then the one on her shoulder brought back memories of dancing with Frank. Except this partner wasn’t her husband, nor was she sure why the thought occurred to her. Especially on church grounds.
    â€œYou in a hurry, Mrs. Johnson?” Detective Jackson continued to look at her with concern.
    Her lips moved, but she couldn’t find her voice. What is going on? Okay, it’s been a long day, and you’re grieving. Regaining her composure, she stepped backward. The detective still held his hand around her waist, as though he thought she would tumble over.
    â€œI’m fine. I didn’t see you there.”
    â€œWell, I’m kind of hard to miss. You know six foot and all.” He grinned.
    She couldn’t help but smile back. The man had a way about him that put her at ease. “Well, since I’ve managed to practically run you over, do you have a minute?”
    â€œSure. I was going to ask you the same. Are you sure you’re up to talking? I would understand.”
    She nodded her head. Really, she wanted to go home and lie down, but owing to her talk with Hillary, her curiosity propelled her to remain patient.
    â€œLet’s go over here.” The detective led the way to a small open office.
    Once inside, she commented, “You seem to know your way around this place.”
    â€œVG Center. I have been frequenting the place quite a bit. Recently, I decided to sign up to help with coaching the basketball team. A little extracurricular activity outside of work.”
    â€œInteresting. My daughter plays basketball for North Valley High.”
    â€œYeah. She’s pretty good.”
    Candace smiled. “I would say so. Not that I know much about the sport other than yelling for my daughter when she has the ball in her hand.”
    â€œWas your husband into sports?”
    She was surprised by the detective’s question. “Yes, he was very much a sports fanatic.”
    Detective Jackson chuckled lightly.
    His deep, throaty laugh put her more at ease. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œWhat did Mitch Harris tell you?” For a moment, she didn’t think he would respond. She had to know.
    â€œMr. Harris does have an alibi. Most of the people we talked to said Pamela left the art gallery early. So, there is a stretch of time during which we can’t account for Ms.