Hard Silence Read Online Free PDF

their husbands, his nephew. “Jason cries every time Clay leaves the house. He wants to go with his daddy. You were like that. Remember?”
    “Yes.” Sometimes he wondered how much he actually remembered and how much he recalled from her repeated stories. And the stories grew more frequent in the spring. God knew his own thoughts grew repetitive and wistful as the anniversary of his father’s death approached. “How’s Cass?”
    “Wild as a March hare. I’m not sure what to do with her. None of the rest of you came home from college like that.”
    Ruth had met Clayton in college; Janice, the bookworm, had gone straight from undergrad to grad school; and he’d gone right from college to grad school to Quantico. All three of the older Crandall siblings had been eager to make their old man proud of them, even if he’d never see it. As the only one of them without memories of their father, Cass had always been her own person.
    “I’ll talk to her.”
    “She won’t listen, but you can try. Thank you, dear. Are you sure you’ll be okay? Have you seen your house?”
    “I’m standing in the yard now, waiting to unpack. It’s a huge farmhouse, with a great big yard and dogwoods lining the drive. I won’t even need the upstairs. It’s quiet, and there’s a porch where I can write and get some fresh air when I need it.”
    “Won’t you get lonely?”
    He sighed. If he were eighty and she were a hundred, he’d still be her little boy. “Gray and Maggie are, like, ten minutes away. And I have a neighbor within range if I fall and can’t get up.”
    The squeal and slap of Abby’s screen door drew his gaze to her yard. She was already halfway to the stable, down to check on Butcher, no doubt. Toby stayed at her heels. Was her shoulder better today? Did she need help with the horse, or with chores? Should he check?
    You aren’t here to be a farmhand. Not even a neighbor, really.
    But he was a neighbor, and she needed help. Whether she’d ask for it or not.
    “Son, are you conducting surveillance on your neighbor?”
    “What?” He looked over his shoulder at his mother’s question, half expecting to see her behind him.
    “I’ve asked you the same question twice without an answer.” Her laughter didn’t help his embarrassment.
    “No. I’ve just realized the time. I need to get ready for church.”
    “Church? Thomas Jefferson! Did you say the c word?”
    “I’m not a heathen. I think I can go to church without lightning striking. Besides, it’s sort of a thing here. Church, Sunday lunch, and sleepy afternoons.”
    “Before you go,” she said, her glee vanishing, “the district attorney called. Kyle Davis is up for parole. They want me to go to the hearing at the end of the week.”
    “Do you want me to come home and go with you?”
    “No. I’ve been thinking.” Her voice thinned and shrank. “It’s been over twenty years.”
    After years of looking out for her, he recognized the reluctant tone. What was wrong with her? There was no time limit on what Davis and his friends had taken from them. “You have to go. Take Ruthie with you.” He’d text his sister and make sure she had it covered. Kyle Davis should never see the light of day.
    “He didn’t even pull the trigger, Jeff. He was just behind the wheel.”
    “He was there ,” he spat.
    “I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. Go to church, and be sure and tell Gray hello. Love you.”
    Jeff exhaled a shaky breath. “Love you too, Mama. Talk to you next week.”
    * * *
    He was still shaky and tense an hour later as he stood at the back of the little Methodist Church. Chatter bounced and echoed from the slate floor and stucco walls, and sunlight was fractured by leaded windows. The kaleidoscope of color and noise made him dizzy.
    Glen Roberts, the chief of police, met him at the door. “It’s nice to see you again.” He lowered his voice. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
    One of my father’s