Chapter Two

Previously:

Again, Jarrod picked up the letter and read it. Then he folded the paper, slid it into the small book and slipped the book into his briefcase. "I have to remember where I've seen that handwriting before. If I can remember that, half the battle is won." He picked up his briefcase and headed for home.

When Jarrod opened the front door and stepped inside, he was surprised to see Reverend Carl Johnson standing in the living room talking with Victoria. After what his visitor had said, Jarrod figured the good reverend would be with his wife and visiting relatives.

Victoria, who had turned her head slightly when she heard the door open, exclaimed, "Jarrod! I didn't expect you home for another hour. Reverend Johnson was just asking about you."

Jarrod was puzzled, only he didn't let it show as he set his briefcase on the chair that sat near the living room entrance. "What may I do for you?" he asked as he shook the reverend's hand.

"My wife and I have some land we'd liked deeded over to her sister and brother-in-law. It never should have been given to us; it was meant for Melanie and whoever she married in the first place." The reverend wasn't about to discuss how his father-in-law had acted out of character and changed things when Melanie 'had the nerve to marry 'that mountain man'.' In Reverend Johnson's eyes, there had been no reason to do such a thing. Badger may have been raised in the mountains; he may be choosing to continue to dress like one only everyone knew that the gentleman and his wife would be, for the most part, living on a small farm outside Stockton. Even if they weren't, Badger was not a bad man.

While Jarrod might not be able to read minds, he could still pretty well guess the young woman had fallen out of grace with whomever had given the land to the reverend. "Why didn't you simply stop by my office? I could have had Esther draw up the needed papers."

"I had to come out and talk to your mother about the fund raiser we are holding next week. That being the case, I figured I'd just talk to you about it here." The good reverend explained.

"We could only I'd still have to have you stop by my office. On top of that, I brought some work home with me." Jarrod apologized.

"No need for any apology." Reverend Johnson smiled and then excused himself, saying he had to leave.

"What's up?" Victoria, who had known something was up the moment Jarrod said he had brought home work, asked the moment the good reverend had closed the door behind him. "You don't have any pressing case going on, do you?" She hadn't heard of anything major happening in Stockton.

Jarrod walked over to the small table where the decanter stood and poured himself a small drink. Normally, he would have not said a word about his visitor only he had the strongest impression come over him-one that said; maybe, by some wild chance- his mother might actually recognize the handwriting as well. "I met Reverend Johnson's brother-in-law today." He wasn't surprised when he turned around to see a shocked look upon his mother's face. "He wanted my help." He recited a small bit of what the gentleman had told him. Jarrod then opened his briefcase and pulled out the letter. "I know this is going to sound crazy only," He held out the letter Badger had given him. "I recognize this handwriting from somewhere only; for the life of me, I can't remember where I would have seen it. Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Victoria frowned slightly as she took the letter from Jarrod, unfold it and looked at the writing in front of her.

Jarrod kept an eye on his mother, hoping to see some glimmer of recognition. It would save him so much time if she did. Just as he thought he was just going to have to remember on his own, Victoria's eyes widened. She took her eyes off the paper and looked at Jarrod. "I may. Come up with me to the attic." Victoria handed her son the letter back and headed for the stairs. Jarrod was quick to follow.

"Years ago, your Uncle Jim and Aunt Ella lived on the outskirts of Modesto. You were rather young at the time only I think, from comments you have made in the past, you remember visiting their ranch a time or two." Victoria started speaking halfway of the stairs. "No, before you think it, that handwriting does not belong to your uncle or aunt."

"I never thought it did. I mean, I knew it wasn't Uncle Jim's. Though, I admit, while I doubted it was Aunt Ella's, I had entertained the possibility. Why, I don't know." Jarrod paused as they reached the top of the stairs. "Though, I'm puzzled. If it isn't hers, why are we going up to the attic?"

"Maybe just to get our exercise. I'm not going to elaborate unless my guess is correct." Victoria reached the door that stood in front of the steps that led into the attic.

Jarrod didn't argue as he followed his mother up the attic stairs. While he did, he ran any memory he had of being at his aunt's and uncle's small ranch outside Modesto through his mind-along with the contacts he'd had there. After all he'd had a few of the people keep in touch with him and his family through the years. By the time his mother was opening one of the old trunks that set in the attic, Jarrod was eighty percent sure he knew who the author of the letter was. Though, if he was right, he was more confused than ever. The gentleman he was thinking of had never married-and never been known to be the kind to step a foot inside any sort of brothel.

Jarrod inwardly sighed; he would just have to wait as his mother began searching through the items in the trunk.