Justice Denied by J. A. Jance

Author:J. A. Jance
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

It was late on a sunny but surprisingly chill morning when I pulled up at the Lawrences’ mailbox on Lavetta Road south of Leavenworth proper. Lavetta Road isn’t so much a road as it is a very angular circle. Maybe they should have called it Lavetta Oblong. With the help of my trusty GPS, I managed to locate the long winding driveway marked “Lawrence,” which took off from the southernmost curve of Lavetta and headed off into the forest.

The house itself was one of those some-assembly-required log cabins where someone else cuts up, notches, numbers, and fits together all the tree trunks necessary to build the house. They’re then taken apart, loaded onto a truck, and hauled to wherever the house is being built. At that point the hapless homeowner has to reassemble the pieces himself or pay someone else to do it. Since Lawrence was an engineer type, I figured he would have done the work himself.

This one was a large two-story affair with a steeply pitched roof and a covered porch that ran across the entire front of the house. A single vehicle was parked outside—a muddied Subaru Forester that seemed much the worse for wear. Out of force of habit, I jotted down the license number, then started up the walkway. In true Leavenworth fashion, the metal door knocker had been fashioned to resemble a nutcracker. I gave it a good bash and waited to see if anyone would answer.

The door was cracked open the distance of a short length of fastened security chain. “Yes?” a woman asked questioningly, while remaining mostly out of sight behind the partially opened door.

Carol Lawrence was about my age. Her silver hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but even that small glimpse revealed a resemblance between her and her daughter that was nothing short of striking. She looked as if she had been crying, and I wondered what about.

“What do you want?” she asked.

I held up my ID. “Mrs. Lawrence,” I began, “if you have a few moments, I’d like to speak to you.”

By the time the words were out of my mouth she was already trying to slam the door. My foot, schooled by years of actual door-to-door Fuller Brush salesmanship, was firmly planted in the way.

“Go away,” she ordered. “I’m not talking to you and neither is Jack. Tony’s been gone for a quarter of a century. There’s no reason to bring it all back up.”

“But your daughter—”

“My daughter disapproves of me,” she said. “I didn’t wait the whole seven years, and she’s never forgiven me for that. But you know what? I’m the mother. I get to live my life the way I want to. Now go away.”

“Are you aware that your husband went to see DeAnn yesterday?” I asked. “That he was off the charts and threatened her? She was very upset.”

“Look,” Carol said impatiently, “Jack is DeAnn’s stepfather. They have never gotten along and never will. Not only that, I’ve finally figured out that I can’t fix it.

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