Molly pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and tucked it into the diaper bag she’d hung on the kitchen chair. “I find it’s better not to be tempted when the notifications go off.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Drew turned his cell phone off and slid it back into his pocket.
“Dad’s room is the last door on the left.” Lorrie picked up the farm animal book and sat into the rocking chair near the front window. Drew smiled as Lorrie sang the first verse of a nursery rhyme. Her melodic voice added a comforting, welcome energy to the home.
At the end of the hallway, Drew opened the bedroom door and motioned Molly inside.
Reuben Cote sat in a rocking chair similar to the one in the family room. A patterned quilt draped across his lap. His grin pressed his wrinkled cheeks upward, closing off his eyes. “My daughter sings and her voice fills my tired old soul. I’m uplifted.”
Drew left the door open to allow Lorrie’s next song about sunshine to flow into the room.
Molly smiled. “Does she sing often?”
“Only when she feels safe.” Reuben tugged the blanket around his waist and set his rocking chair into a slow sway.
Molly’s gaze connected with Drew’s. That, he supposed, was at the core of every parent: wanting his or her child to feel safe. He’d want that for Hazel. And Molly. But would her heart be safe with him? Drew cleared his throat. “We will protect you and your family.”
“I trust that you will try.” Reuben paused. His chair creaked in the sudden silence. “Lorrie believes in you, as well. Otherwise she wouldn’t have invited you here.”
“Mr. Cote.” Drew stepped forward, reached his hand out.
“Reuben, please. We spent too much time together working on that trial to be so formal now.” The older gentleman shook Drew’s hand, then patted the last few gray curls framing his otherwise bald head. “Besides, my wife, Trina, only called me Mr. Cote when I displeased her. I can tell you it wasn’t often. And because of that we celebrated fifty-four years of marriage before she passed.”
“We are sorry for your loss,” Molly said.
Reuben nodded. But it was not sadness or despair that embraced him. More like love and gratitude for his wife and what they had shared. Drew glanced at Molly. What would it take for a marriage like that? Would Molly believe he could be a husband like Reuben? Did Drew believe?
“Trina told me she was leaving this life early to get things ready for us.” A quiet wise smile dented Reuben’s cheeks. “Promised she’d be waiting for me when I finished my work here.”
“How do you know when you’ve finished your work?” Molly’s arms were relaxed at her sides. Her voice was genuine. Her gaze sincere.
“My dear, I lived, loved and lied in this lifetime more than most.” A wry gleam flashed in Reuben’s deep brown eyes. “Married the love of my life and was blessed to raise a family. Tried to do right. Now, I can hear my Trina calling me.”
Drew wanted Reuben to have peace. To be with his beloved Trina for all eternity. And, selfishly, Drew wanted very much to save himself too.
“But you both aren’t here for life advice from me.” Reuben’s gaze settled on Drew as if the older man had been blessed with clairvoyance.
“We will welcome any advice you’re willing to share.” Drew meant that. He liked Reuben Cote very much. Would gladly return for a personal visit to learn more about his life. But to do that, business had to come first. “But we’ve also recently discovered a recording of your first interview in the Van Solis murder trial.”
Reuben rubbed his finger over his eyebrows. “I was told that recording had been destroyed. That’s why I never mentioned it in my new statement to the boy’s lawyer.”
“Not exactly,” Molly said. “Reuben, we need your sworn statement to verify the recording. To verify it is you and Cory Vinson in that video.”
“I had to make a deal.” Reuben’s worry was palpable in the room. “I was told by Vinson that I was about to lose my home and everything I owned because of unpaid back taxes. I’d made a terrible mistake. The penalties and fines were more than I made my entire life as a mechanic. My daughter and grandkids would’ve been forced onto the streets. Lorrie had fallen on rough times. Vinson stressed I would spend years in prison. A man can’t provide for his family in jail. I promised my wife I’d look after my family. Always.”
Molly sat on the ottoman beside Reuben’s rocking chair. “And you did that the best way you knew how.”
“I took Vinson’s deal, but I sentenced someone else’s son to a life in jail.” Reuben pinched his eyes closed. “Who was I to decide my life mattered more than that boy’s?”
“I was the prosecutor,” Drew confessed into the quiet. “I’m responsible for that outcome.”
“You wouldn’t have had that outcome without my testimony.” Reuben peered at him. “No man should ever tamper with fate. I’ll have to answer for that.”
“We can correct things.” Molly set her hand on the arm of the rocking chair. Her voice was earnest and forthright. “For the innocent and the guilty.”
“I want things made right. I’ve waited far too long.” Reuben’s chin dipped. “Funny, the things I convinced myself of the past few years, since the trial ended, to lessen the guilt and the regret. But when your final days are staring right at you, it’s only the truth that matters.”
“Reuben,” Molly said. “Your legacy will be all the stronger for owning the truth now.”
“What happens now? I’ve recanted my testimony publicly and already gave a statement to Van’s attorney for the boy’s appeal trial.” Reuben curled his fingers around the rocking chair armrests. “What charges will I face?”
“We aren’t here to charge you.” Drew stepped forward, wanting to reassure the older man. “We’d like your testimony at my upcoming hearing
