I shook my head, thinking of J.R. Simmons, who didn’t have a good bone in his body. “No. Not with everyone.”

“Most people. That’s what I like most about you . . . other than your determination to do what you think is right, even if everyone else around you thinks you’re wrong. And the fact that you stand your ground, even with a scary asshole like me. You’re a woman of principles who wants to do the right thing.” He slid out of the booth and stood, surprising me by tossing a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Let’s go do the right thing.”

As he ushered me out of the diner, I kept thinking about that hundred-dollar bill he’d left for the waitress in the restaurant he owned.

And I wondered if he was more like me than he thought.

Chapter 12

Skeeter wanted to go to his safe house, but after I told him about the duffel bag, we drove past the alley, slowing down to take in the fire fighters and police swarming the alley.

“There’s no way we can get in there and get the bag,” I said. “Unless you have someone on your payroll who works for the fire department.”

“I do, but not someone close enough to trust with this.”

I spun around to look at him. “I was kidding.”

He remained silent.

“So what do we do?”

“The bag might be a lost cause, but maybe that’s not such a big deal. You already saw everything that’s in it, right?”

“Yeah, but not in great detail. But there was one file I hadn’t seen before.” I glanced at him again. “A file on Joe’s old housekeeper.”

“Roberta?”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “You know her?”

“Yeah. Everyone loved Roberta. She was like the grandmother everyone wanted.”

“I know Joe loved her,” I said. “He told me she taught him how to cook.”

“It was probably lonely to grow up a Simmons. From what I saw, she and Joe were close.”

“Do you know why she left?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I was back in Fenton County by then, but once I heard, I checked into it. Apparently, it was very abrupt. I heard she’d left a note saying it was time for her to move on, but she’d given no notice whatsoever. She’d never even hinted that she was leaving. I heard the whole household was in an uproar after she left.”

“Oh, my word. Did J.R. kill her?”

“No. Once I heard about her departure, I tracked her down in Memphis. She was scared to death to see me. She told me she’d been keeping her mouth shut, just like J.R. had told her to.”

“Keeping her mouth shut about what?”

“She wouldn’t say, but when I assured her that I would help her, she pretended like she’d never been scared at all and made me stay for dinner.”

“She knew who you were and what you did,” I murmured. “If she thought you were there to hurt her, then why would she invite you to dinner?”

“I assured her that no one would ever hurt her if I could help it.” His voice hardened. “And I meant every word.”

“You were willing to disobey J.R.?”

“J.R. was like the father I’d always wanted. He knew how to play that to his advantage. But I was startin’ to see him for who he was.”

“Is Roberta still alive?”

“No,” he said softly. “She died from congestive heart failure about two years ago. She died in her sleep.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t foul play?” I asked. “Why else would Kate have a file on her housekeeper who died two years ago? When did it happen?”

“September, I think.”

“September two years ago?” I said, turning in my seat to face him. “Joe said Kate disappeared in the early fall that year. She was living in Little Rock, and then she just up and vanished to California . . .” My eyes widened. “Without a word to anyone.”

Skeeter cast me a sideways glance. “Are you suggesting Kate Simmons killed her old housekeeper eleven years after she left?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. But I am saying the timing is very coincidental.”

He was quiet for a moment. “We could ask her granddaughter if she thinks something happened, but she never hinted that she suspected foul play when I saw her at the funeral.”

“You went to Roberta’s funeral?”

He squirmed in his seat. “I visited her at least once a month.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

There was so much I didn’t know about this man. So much he kept hidden. “I think that’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” he asked in dismay. “There’s not one sweet thing about me, not even a sweet tooth. It was for purely selfish reasons. She fed me a home-cooked dinner every first Tuesday of the month.”

Yeah, right. “You know her granddaughter’s name? You know how to contact her?”

“Her name is Anna Miller, but I lost contact with her about six months ago. I have no idea where she is.”

“I do,” I said, gasping in shock. “I know exactly where to find her.”

“Where?” he asked in disbelief.

“Right under our noses.” When he gave me a questioning glance, I added, “She works at my nursery.”

He pulled to a stop at a street corner and turned to face me. “You’re shittin’ me.”

“No. Violet hired her right after we reopened the nursery. She’d just moved to Henryetta, but she didn’t say why. She said she was from Mississippi.” I gasped. “I was covering for Violet in the shop a couple of weeks ago, and Hilary walked in. Anna kept her distance and acted nervous. Then Hilary saw her and got a funny look. She left in a bit of a hurry. Would Hilary know her?”

“I don’t see how. I don’t think Roberta ever even mentioned her family in that house, which is understandable. She was a smart woman. I’m fairly certain she only stayed with the family as long as she did because of the Simmons kids. She loved those kids, but she wasn’t about to risk the safety of her own children and grandchild.”

“So why is Anna here in Henryetta? It’s not exactly the kind of place people move to on a lark. She’s got a purpose, and it has to do with the Simmons family.”