“If they did, it would be a match.”
“Well, they have the man’s DNA on file. Maybe this story will prompt one more test to be run.” He started scribbling notes down but stopped when Sean put a hand over his. He looked up with a questioning expression.
“Marty, can I ask a favor?”
“After giving me the story of the cent
ury? Yeah, I think I can spare one.”
“I don’t want you to write about this part of the story. About Willa.”
“Come again?”
Michelle spoke up. “Willa’s lost her mother. The woman who actually gave birth to her is dead too. We just think it would be too much. It wouldn’t be fair to put her through all that.”
“And you have plenty enough without it,” added Sean. “Including very
compelling circumstantial evidence that the First Lady torched a house and killed an innocent woman to cover up her husband’s misdeeds. But you’re the reporter, so it’s your call. We won’t make you withhold it.”
Determann looked uncomfortable. “You think Jane Cox intended Ruth Ann to die when she burned down the house?”
“I hope she didn’t. But I guess no one other than her knows that. I do know that Willa has been through enough.”
Determann nodded and reached out a hand to Sean. “Deal.”
“Thanks, Marty.”
Determann said, “It’s a great story, Sean. And I can completely understand why you both would want the truth to come out.”
“But?” Sean said warily.
“But it’s going to rock this country to its soul, man.”
“Sometimes you have to, Marty. Sometimes you just have to.”
CHAPTER 88
WILLA SAT ACROSS from Sean, Michelle, and Gabriel with her hands in her lap and her head turned downward. They were at a house that Tuck had rented about a mile from their old one, which was up for sale. None of them wanted to go back there to live. Tuck sat next to his daughter, one arm protectively around her.
“I’m sorry that your ma died,” Gabriel said, not looking directly at Willa. He was dressed in a new white polo shirt and blue jeans and he held a new Atlanta Falcons ball cap that Sean had bought him to replace the one he’d lost in the fire. He had one hand in his pocket, his fingers curved around the only thing of his that had survived the fire: the Lady Liberty coin that Sam Quarry had placed on his nightstand before he’d departed Atlee for good.
“I’m really sorry about your mom too,” Willa said. “And you were very brave in that mine. I don’t think I’d be alive except for you.”
Gabriel glanced sideways at Sean. “He pulled me out. I sure wouldn’t have made it without Mr. Sean.”
Willa looked around the interior of her temporary home before gazing back at Gabriel. “He had a daughter. Her name was Tippi.”
“Yep. She was real sick. Mr. Sam let me read to her.”
“Jane Austen, he told me.”
“Did he talk to you a lot about her?” Sean asked Willa.
“Not a lot, but I could tell he thought about her a lot. You just sort of know.” She glanced at her father. “I tried to get away once. I almost fell off the mountain. He saved me. Mr. Sam grabbed me right before I fell.”
Tuck fidgeted a bit. “That’s all in the past, Willa. You don’t have to think about it anymore, sweetie. It’s over.”
She fiddled with her fingers. “I know, Dad. But part of me—” She leaned forward. “He lost his daughter, didn’t he? He lost Tippi?”