Murder at Black Lake by Anne Patrick

Author:Anne Patrick [Patrick, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781515171997
Published: 2015-10-17T06:00:00+00:00

***

Jamie stared up at the beige two-story house. For some reason, the house seemed familiar to her, but she didn't remember ever coming here before. Jamie barely remembered Mrs. Jennings at all.

She had considered calling Mrs. Jennings first but was afraid the woman would refuse to see her. Hoping and praying for the best, Jamie knocked on the front door.

Several seconds passed before a woman wearing a silver cropped-bob haircut came to the door. Jamie immediately knew she was at the right place. "Good morning, Mrs. Jennings. I don't know if you remember me or not, but—"

"You're Jamie Riedel," she spoke cautiously. "I saw you in church Sunday."

"Yes." Jamie offered a smile, hoping to put the woman at ease. "If it's a convenient time for you, I would very much like to speak with you."

"All right." She invited Jamie into a modestly furnished living room with light blue walls and brown matching sofa and chairs. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get us some tea."

Jamie's attention was drawn to a white fireplace with several photos lined on the mantel. Most of which were of her son, Dwight.

Mrs. Jennings returned with a tray with two glasses of tea, a dish of lemon slices, and small packets of sugar. She carefully set it on the coffee table in front of Jamie. "Help yourself."

Jamie added one of the lemon slices to her tea and sat back on the sofa. She waited until the woman was settled beside her. Lucy Jennings looked to be in her early sixties, her face slightly drawn.

"First and foremost, I wanted you to know how sorry I am about the loss of your son. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to lose a child, especially one as kindhearted and loving as Dwight was."

The woman's eyes narrowed. She seemed surprised.

"That's the other reason I came. I was shocked when I first learned of his conviction. I never believed Dwight killed my father. I truly believe he was trying to save my life and that's why he took me to that cabin."

"I didn't think you remembered anything about that night. That's the testimony you gave in court."

"Only bits and pieces. A recent request to view the case file is how I learned about those details. I have no memory of the murder itself or being stabbed."

Mrs. Jennings stood and walked to the fireplace. Her fingers traced along the bottom of an 8x10 photograph of Dwight, her pain clearly visible in the way she longingly looked at her son. "A jury didn't seem to think so."

"That's what I'm trying to understand, Mrs. Jennings."

"You may call me Lucy."

"Thank you, Lucy. I didn't go through the entire case file, but I did read his statement and mine. And I remember the description I gave in court concerning the clothes the killer wore. There is so much that doesn't add up. I don't understand how a jury could have convicted him."

"I don't believe they would have, had an eye witness not come forward."

"A witness. Really."

Lucy came back over and sat down.

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