“So he was going to send them anyway?”

“He wasn’t himself after Paul’s death. And neither was Ima Jean. It wasn’t hard for Bea to convince her mother that Henry was having an affair with Dora. Especially with the office staff backing her claim.”

“The fire?” I asked. “Did Dora or Daddy start it?”

She shook her head. “No. They had both gone to the police chief and he was planning to question Henry and Dirk. But Bill died and the new police chief refused to listen.”

“I still don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “You said you and Daddy were protecting me by hiding the truth from me. What were you hiding?”

“Rose, two men could be your father. Harrison is one. The other is Paul Buchanan.”

“Henry’s son?”

She nodded. “Dora loved Harrison, but he was wracked with guilt over their affair, and he offered her nothing. Paul was unhappy with his own marriage and he seduced her. When she found out she was pregnant, he told her that he was going to leave his wife for her. He planned to marry her.”

“But why is that dangerous?”

“Because that would make you an heir to the Buchanan estate. The insurance from the fire set up the family for life. If it got out that you were Paul’s daughter, you would get a third. After everything Bea and Dirk did to sabotage the parts, the three of us decided it would be safer for no one else to know.”

I gasped. “The three of us?”

“Henry knew. He had his will changed to include you, but he didn’t name you. He prepared another document that was supposed to be produced after his death, naming you as an heir. But after he died, the document never materialized. I think it’s in his secret safe. I just checked and the safe’s still in his office. Dora’s the only other person who knew the combination.”

“For heaven’s sake! Why didn’t the family just hire a locksmith to open it? Why go to all this trouble?”

“For one, it’s hidden behind a panel. Hardly anyone knew the safe existed, let alone that it holds Henry’s papers. I couldn’t very well hire a locksmith to open a safe on a property I didn’t own.”

“Why didn’t you just find the journal with the code yourself?”

“I tried. I searched that house high and low and never found it.” She took a breath. “Where’d you find it?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I should tell her, but what difference did it make? It wasn’t like I planned to put it back there. “Under the baby bed. Taped to the frame.”

Hattie sighed, a warm smile flooding her face. “Of course. Everything she did was for you.”

I wanted to point out that in the end, none of it had helped me. I would have rather had a poor mother who loved me. “Wait.” I realized something had slipped by me. “Dirk and Bea? Beverly?”

“Yeah.” She reached out toward me. “Now hand me the journal and let’s open the safe.”

A loud pop echoed in the space and Hattie crumpled into a heap on the floor. I stood stunned as a red stain blossomed on her white shirt.

Someone had shot Hattie.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I screamed and ducked next to a metal support beam, wondering what had just happened even though the evidence was right in front of me.

As shock washed through my head, I tried to figure out the why of it. Did Jed think I’d been threatened? Had he turned on me?

I turned to run, but I came face to face with the woman from Ima Jean’s bakery. Hate filled her eyes as she pointed a gun at me.

I nearly passed out when I realized she was Beverly.

I had to keep my wits about me and fainting wasn’t going to help. Where was Jed?

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t look anything like him.”

“Who?”

“Paul.”

I held up my hands. “I don’t know what any of this is about, so I think I’ll just leave.”

She held the gun higher. “I don’t think so.”

“Drop it.” Jed’s voice rang out loud and clear as he came into view next to the metal rubble about ten feet to her right side.

She grinned, but it looked menacing. “I think I’ll keep it. Dirk?”

Dirk Picklebie stepped out of the shadows next to Beverly, pointing a gun at me.

Beverly cocked her head with a smirk. “You can’t shoot both of us before one of us shoots her. Drop the gun.”

Jed’s jaw worked as he moved closer to me, still holding his weapon.

Dirk scratched his head with his free hand. “What are you doin’ here, Jed? You screwing this girl?”

No matter what, I couldn’t let Dirk link me to Skeeter. “We hooked up after I met him at the pool hall yesterday,” I said. “But it turns out he’s the jealous type. He must have followed me here.”

I took two steps toward him, but Beverly blocked my path. “If you don’t want me to shoot your girlfriend, lover boy, put down the gun.”

Jed slowly squatted and gently lowered his gun to the ground, then rose with a murderous look on his face. Dirk Picklebie would be lucky to survive this. If Jed didn’t take care of him, I had no doubt that Skeeter would.

Beverly reached out her free hand. “Give me the journal.”

I put my left hand on my abdomen pretending to protect the book under my coat as I took a step back. “No.”

Beverly’s eyes narrowed. “I just shot Hattie. I won’t hesitate to shoot you too.”