Beverly Barton

Every Move She Makes


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      “I confronted Reed with the letter the day I received it.”

      “You what?”

      “Lower your voice. People are staring again.”

      “To hell with people staring!” Webb dropped his knife and fork onto his plate. The metal clanged against the china. “Are you telling me that you—”

      “He swore to me that he didn’t do it—that he didn’t write the letter. And strange as it may sound to you, I think I believe him.”

      “Little girl, you stay away from the likes of Reed Conway. Do you hear me? I thought you had better sense than to go anywhere near him. Don’t you know that he’d like nothing better than to hurt you in order to get to me?”

      “Yes, of course, I’m aware of your past history with him and the fact that he swore revenge against you and—”

      “Promise me that you’ll never go anywhere near him again.”

      “But Daddy—”

      “Dammit, promise me.”

      “I—I promise.”

      By now Ella would have received the second letter. No doubt that was the reason she had been seen having lunch with her father at Callahan’s. She had run to her daddy. Ella was so predictable. Using her was almost too easy. Webb’s next stop would be at Frank Nelson’s office.

      Laughter filled the room. Self-satisfied laughter. Making Webb miserable was such a pleasure. It was past time that the senator suffered for his sins. And nothing made Webb Porter suffer more than to think his precious daughter was in danger.

      Ella wasn’t in any real danger. Not now. Not yet. One did what one had to do to survive, to protect one’s self. And to get a little sweet revenge.

      A short walk across the room to the computer on the desk. A few clicks and the screen opened to the word processing program. One more message, similar to the others, and then it would be time to up the ante, raise the stakes, unnerve the senator’s daughter to a greater degree.

      “I want you to go over to where he’s working at his cousin’s garage and warn him to stay away from my family—my daughter in particular.”

      Frank Nelson watched Webb Porter, his father’s old friend, as he paced the floor. The man was more agitated than he’d ever seen him. There was a sense of desperation in Webb that Frank didn’t think he’d ever seen. But when it came to Ella, Webb was a typical father. Only he was a father who possessed a great deal of power and influence.

      “I can give him an unofficial warning, but that’s all I can do unless we can come up with some proof that he’s the one harassing Ella,” Frank explained.

      “Of course he’s the one.”

      “I agree. He probably is, but without proof—”

      “That boy was trouble fifteen years ago and he’s even more trouble now.” Webb forked his fingers through his silver hair. “His mother didn’t deserve the problems he created for her.”

      “Yes, sir, I agree. Judy Conway is a good woman. God knows what she’s gone through over the years.”

      Webb cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Judy’s almost a member of the family, you know. She’s been with Jeff Henry and Cybil for ages.”

      Frank tapped the envelopes lying on his desk. “Webb, you leave these letters with me and I’ll drive over to Conway’s later on today and have a talk with Reed.”

      “Thanks, Frank. I knew I could count on you.”

      Judy said her good-byes to Carolyn Porter and slipped away quietly while Viola lifted the crippled woman into her arms and carried her back to her bed. Judy closed the door behind her. She both pitied and envied Carolyn, as she was sure almost everyone in town did. The poor thing had been an invalid for over thirty years. Judy made a point of not coming to the Porter house unless she had no other choice. There was too much bad blood between their families. But occasionally, like today, Jeff Henry would insist that Judy drop by with some of her homemade bread, since he knew Carolyn loved it so. She had intended to simply leave the bread in the kitchen with Bessie, but the housekeeper had been out shopping and Viola had answered the doorbell’s ring. Carolyn had inquired who their visitor was and then insisted that Judy come up for a visit.

      “I get out rarely,” Carolyn had said. “Especially not in this hot weather. It’s such a delight to have a visitor. Come, sit and chat with me awhile.”

      The woman was Webb Porter’s wife, and that very fact made Judy uncomfortable in her presence. But she had stayed twenty minutes. As usual, Carolyn was charming. A true Southern lady. But as usual, Judy felt an underlying tension in Webb’s wife.

      The moment Judy started down the back staircase, she met Webb. Her heart leaped to her throat. She had prayed she wouldn’t run into him. What would she say? How should she act?

      “Judy?”

      “Hello, Webb.”

      “What are you doing here?” he asked.

      “Jeff Henry sent me over with some homemade bread for Carolyn. He’s aware that it’s a favorite of hers.”

      Webb stopped his ascent. Judy continued down the stairs. When she passed him, he reached out for her, but dropped his hand to his side before actually touching her.

      “I’d like to talk to you,” he said.

      “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

      “Please, give me a few minutes of your time.”

      She forced herself to look him squarely in the eye, but regretted the action when he stared at her pleadingly. Don’t let him get to you, she cautioned herself. Webb Porter knows how to charm a lady. But this man is your son’s enemy and don’t you forget it.

      “What do you want to talk to me about?” she asked.

      “Would you come downstairs with me? We can talk in my study.”

      “We can talk in the kitchen, on my way out,” she told him.

      “If that’s what you prefer.”

      “It is.”

      He followed her down the back stairs and into the kitchen. She paused by the door. “What is it?”

      “Ella has received three disturbing phone calls and two obscene, threatening letters since Reed was paroled.”

      Judy gasped. “Are you saying that you think Reed made those phone calls and sent those letters?”

      “Yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

      “You’re wrong. Dead wrong. Just like you were wrong about him slitting Junior’s throat fifteen years ago.”

      “You’re Reed’s mother. I’d expect you to defend him.”

      “And you’re the man who prosecuted him for murder. I’d expect you to suspect him. But I’m telling you that all Reed wants is a second chance. He’s not going to do anything to mess up his parole.”

      “I hope you’re right. But I think you should caution Reed to stay away from Ella.”

      “Stay away from…Are you saying that Reed’s been bothering Ella?”

      “They made contact and it upset Ella.”

      “What do you mean they made contact?”

      “After she received the first letter, Ella confronted Reed.”

      “Ah, I see.” Judy tilted her chin and glared at Webb. “If you’re so worried about Reed contaminating Ella, then perhaps you should tell your daughter to stay away from my son.”

      Judy left hurriedly while Webb Porter