Liar's Bench by Kim Michele Richardson

Author:Kim Michele Richardson [Richardson, Kim Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

KKK RALLY. JOIN THE LOYAL WHITE KNIGHTS.

KEEP AMERICA WHITE AND STRONG.

8:00 TONIGHT AT FOX TRAIL ROAD.

“That’s McGee’s address here,” Bobby spit. “How can Sheriff let them do it?”

“I heard last year that a bunch of Klan went up to Louisville and rallied on the courthouse steps. A colored girl stepped into their protest area and they threw rocks at her. The police escorted the girl back over to her side, calling it ‘freedom of speech.’ ” I dropped the robe. Bobby ground his sneaker into it, before climbing back onto the chair.

I made my way over to the couch, raised the sofa cushions, and looked on top of the expensive cherry desk. Empty, except for a crystal-cut lamp, some coins, and a calendar. I turned on the light, then tried to pull out each of the desk’s six drawers. All of them were locked except for the top left. I rummaged through it. Nothing but pens, a wooden box of old knifelike gaffes used for rooster fighting, and the usual junk.

“Nothing here but razored gaffes. There might be something in the rest of these drawers, but he’s got them locked up tight . . . No keys.” Puzzled, I tapped my foot. “There’s got to be some other hiding place in here, big enough to hold real secrets.”

“Check the cabinets over there where you found the invoice,” Bobby whispered over his shoulder.

I tapped my foot again. “Yeah, I’m gonna check the floorboards, too.” I walked back and forth and up and down over the oak planks, bending over to inspect any creaky boards, trying to see if I could pry one free, hoping I’d find the ledger hidden beneath. I peered at the walls, running my palms over the cracks, searching for loose stones. “Hmm.” I looked carefully at the stones.

“Anything?” Bobby asked.

“No, but I remember Grammy Essie had a big ol’ loose creek stone inside the house, by the mantel. She said it was a safe place for her jewelry. And when ol’ man Higgins passed, his niece said they found two bags of silver dollars hidden behind a field stone in his Spring House.”

“Keep looking!”

I hurried over to the file cabinets. “Locked,” I said, kneeling down to tug on the bottom drawer. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed paper peeking out from behind the cabinet. The wind must’ve blown it off the top when we came in. I reached around and pulled out two tiny scraps of paper. One had a string of numbers inked across, the other, a receipt with names:

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