Chapter 1
May 23, 1973
Kokomo, Indiana
Screeching brakes jerked Shilo Anderson as she leaned against the window frame, rousing her from the familiar dream. A dream so comforting and longed for, but on hold until she reached Heaven’s streets of gold.
As her dream disintegrated, through cracked lids she noted the eastern horizon glittering with the sun’s rays peeking over in greeting. They must be close to her destination.
The semi’s air brakes screeched again, and she straightened in the passenger seat.
“Hey, I was about to wake you. This here’s Kokomo, or what you can see from the 31.” Right. Mr. Campbell gave her the ride for this last leg. Her brain woke up.
Shilo recognized landmarks she hadn’t seen in a decade. “I’d know it anywhere, Mr. Campbell.” She yawned and blinked the final bit of her sleepiness away.
“Remember, it’s Ben?” He kept his eyes on the stoplight dangling above. “I was thinking. I’m doing good for time. How’s about I take you a little closer? I can do Markland and Washington, then let you out so you won’t have so much walking to do. Plenty of places for me to circle back to the highway.”
“That’s kind of you, Mr. … ah, Ben. You don’t have to, but I appreciate it.” She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes. Shilo’s primary mode of transport was her feet, so she wasn’t worried. But at least if he drove her that close, she might have time to find a place to make herself more presentable. It’d been a long journey from Southern California.
“Then it’s settled.” Ben started humming “Kiss an Angel Good Morning” and focused on his driving, turning west when they reached the light where Markland Avenue crossed US 31. Ben Campbell looked to be in his mid-forties with a touch of a bulge around his middle and graying hair at his temples beneath his red ballcap. They’d chatted off and on since he picked her up at a Tri-County Truckstop in Villa Ridge near St. Louis. He was married with two daughters of his own. Maybe that’s why he let her hitch a ride, to offer protection that he’d want for his own girls. One genuinely nice guy.
Shilo could only guess his reasons. At least he hadn’t lectured. And he made no unwanted moves. Now that she thought of it, all the rides proved to be kind-hearted, even the woman trucker, Bess. She said girls needed to stick together.
However, Shilo knew who protected her, and she sent up a silent word of thanks and blessing over Ben and the other truckers.
He stayed in the right lane so that when they reached the drop-off point, Shilo could climb out fast. And now that they hit that spot, she gathered her backpack and slipped the strap over her shoulder while the semi came to a complete stop. She cracked open the door. “Thank you so much, Ben.”
“Listen, I realize I’m not your dad, but I gotta say something. Hitchhiking ain’t no thing for a girl, especially one as pretty as you. You need to stay safe, ya hear?”
“I hear.” She smiled. More than nice, Ben was kind. So, he should understand. “I am safe. God’s been riding with me the entire trip. He takes good care of me.” The trust and peace she’d experienced this whole week as each need was met and every move fell into place could only be from the hand of her Heavenly Father. She flashed the guy a parting smile. “God bless you with safe travels, Ben Campbell.” Then, with a little wave, she hopped out and closed the door. A single pat on the handle before she oriented herself.
Foster Park would be a few blocks north. Maybe she’d spot a cafe opened up for the early morning breakfast crowd. She’d clean up in their restroom and order something cheap from the menu. The money she’d scraped together to make this trip had dwindled. But with how God provided so far, she had no doubt He would again. She’d been able to trust Him ever since He saved her life.
She spun around in a slow three-sixty to get the lay of the land. Wolfcale’s on the corner of Waugh and Markland looked to be open even though it was barely five in the morning. Shilo hitched her backpack strap higher on her shoulder and headed inside. Bells jangled announcing her presence while the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. The place looked clean too. It all called welcome to her.
A waitress who already appeared weary wiped the counter.
“May I use your restroom?” Shilo flashed her friendliest smile.
“Sure, dearie, but you’ll need to order something.” The woman’s nameplate read Myrtle.
“I plan to, Myrtle. I want to clean up a bit first.”
Myrtle handed her a key with an elaborate foot-long fob. “Yeah, we get all kinds through here, so management is cautious.”
“Ah-ha.” Shilo accepted the conglomeration. “I’ll be out in a few and will check your menu then. Thanks.”
The restroom gleamed with cleanliness, probably from a combination of the guardian of the lock and Shilo being the first to enter for the day. Whatever the reason, she had one more thing to be grateful for. “Thank You, Father.”
Now to get presentable. She pulled out her long denim skirt she’d made from an old pair of jeans before she left home and shook the fabric to get rid of the wrinkles. It was the best she could do with what she had. And she did want to look appropriate at the meeting.
God even orchestrated for her to arrive on the day of her appointment. He was so good to her.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she dabbed on a touch of make-up. These days she rarely wore any, but a little mascara and gloss would be proper for today.
She also rinsed off her body as best she could before rolling on her Secret deodorant and pulling on fresh panties and a bra. Her white peasant blouse with the cotton lace didn’t fare as well as her skirt, wrinkle-wise, but maybe they’d relax as her body warmed the material. She’d leave her tennies on while she still had walking to do but switch them out when she got closer to the office building.
One last glance in the mirror. The strawberry blonde with her hair in a heavy braid over her shoulder looked to be as good as she was going to get. Besides, her stomach chose that moment to rumble. “Okay, okay, I’ll feed you.” Another silent thank You sent winging heavenward, and she returned to the counter with the key. “That feels a lot better.”
“I can tell, hon. Now what should I getcha?” Myrtle snapped her gum. Must be a fresh stick with the flavor scent hanging on the waitress’s words. Doublemint?
Shilo took a seat on a bar stool and checked out the menu. What she wanted was some good ol’ biscuits and gravy. But with the sum total of her finances in the front pocket of her backpack, she needed to conserve. “How about a cup of coffee and …” She had to make the most food out of the least amount of cost. “A donut. I’d like a glazed, please.” She tucked the plastic trifold back into the holder.
“Are you sure that’s all you want?”
It wasn’t, but Shilo couldn’t say that. She wouldn’t lie either. “It’s enough.”
Myrtle scribbled on her pad, ripped off the top page, and tucked it on the chrome wheel that hung in the window between the front and the kitchen. Then she brought over the biggest glazed donut Shilo’d ever seen and poured her a cup of coffee. “Need cream?”
“Yes, please.”
A tiny silver pitcher, still cold from its place in the cooler, appeared next to Shilo’s mug.
“Thank you.” She bowed her head and said grace over her meal before doctoring her coffee and tucking into the beautiful donut that tasted even better than it looked. Someone knew how to make donuts.
“Here ya go, hon.” Myrtle slid a plate of biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon toward her.
“Oh, no, that’s not mine.”
“Doncha want it? Food’s just gonna go to waste if you won’t eat it.”
Shilo glanced about the place. She was their first and only customer. Why’d Myrtle put in that order? “Are you sure? I don’t understand.”
“Someone told me you needed this.” Myrtle sort of motioned with her eyes toward the ceiling.
But Shilo understood what she meant. “Thank you so much.” Her heart squeezed with gratitude. If she’d toyed with even the remotest of doubts, this dispelled them all. God was with her on this trip, and He took good care of her. Just as she told Ben. Yep, he’d been a godsend too, like everyone she’d encountered to arrive here.
Shilo savored each bite. She hadn’t enjoyed biscuits and gravy in close to a decade. It comforted her like a blanket on the inside.
When it was time to go, she pulled out an extra dollar bill. Freely you’ve received, freely give. It left her with a few coins, but with Aunt Sarah’s words ringing in her heart, Shilo waved to Myrtle and continued on her way.
Foster Park wasn’t much more than a half a mile down Washington Street. She’d hang out until her appointment. There hadn’t been an exact time given in the message, strictly speaking. Maybe they’d figured she would call first. But that would take more money. Besides, since she’d hitched from San Diego, she’d had no way of knowing when she started off if she’d arrive on the right day. Still, she had faith and trust.
The walk felt great to her long legs that had been curled up more often than not on the passenger seat of a semi’s cab. Her jean skirt made a soft swish-swosh with her stride.
Soon Foster Park came into view. Shilo crossed the street and wandered to the nearest bench to take in her surroundings. She’d missed this—the early morning dew, the small wild violets sprinkled among the hardy dandelions. Even the sky above seemed a bit bluer, the clouds puffier. The rosebushes in the yards across the way offered their scent as a companion as she sat.
There was something special about being from a town like this. Even if San Diego was home now, Kokomo would always own a place in her heart. Another gift from her Heavenly Father, allowing this town to have a part in her.
The flowers gave her an idea. She pulled out her hairbrush and undid her long braid, brushing until the strands crackled with static. Then she gathered some of the tiny violets and re-braided her hair, sticking the miniature blooms between the plaits. Jesse always liked flowers. When she finished, she put the brush away and held out a compact mirror to double-check her work. Not bad.
The day warmed, though, and it was still too early to head downtown to the office building. Here she’d rest, get some green in her soul, and enjoy an extended quiet time communing with Jesus.
That reminded her of what she tucked into the side pocket of her backpack right before she left. A new-to-her harmonica. She’d picked out a few worship songs to learn back home. Maybe she ought to practice them. Nothing like music to usher her into the presence of God.
“Jesus Loves Me” was the first song she conquered and had been the easiest to figure out. She started that one now, singing the words in her mind while she blew out the tune.
But in the middle of the second chorus, someone tapped her shoulder.
Shilo lowered the harmonica and squinted up to a tall figure in a blue uniform topped off with a hat. “Hello. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” She put her hand up to shield her eyes for a better view.
The officer didn’t smile. He didn’t look mean either. Just all business. “Do you realize what time it is?”
“No, sir. I’m sorry, but I haven’t got a watch. I just arrived in town.”
“You don’t live here?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
Shilo shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
“We’ve got ordinances around here. I’m afraid I need to take you in for vagrancy and disturbing the peace.” He pulled out a set of handcuffs.
“I’ll come peaceably, sir. I didn’t realize I broke any rules.”
She saw in his eyes that he wavered before he put his cuffs back on his belt. “Okay, no bracelets, but I still need to take you in. It’s not safe to be out by yourself so early in the morning.”
Shilo smiled. Another person concerned for her safety. If only they understood.
She walked with him to his patrol car and sat in the back, where she wondered if her clothes would get messed up before her appointment. This minor detour hadn’t even been a blip in her thoughts about the trip.
As she walked into the station with the officer , he turned her over to a matron. First, she was fingerprinted and processed before someone asked if she needed to make a phone call.
She did.
At least they’d burned up enough time putting her through the paces that there was a chance of someone answering her call now. A well-used edition of the Yellow Pages, the lawyer section full of dog-eared pages, sat on a shelf beneath the wall telephone. Shilo hunted up her number and dialed.
“Hamilton, Franklin, and Reynolds. How may I direct your call?”
“I need to speak with Jesse Franklin, please.” Lord, let him be in.
“I can connect you with his secretary. One moment, please.”
The Muzak recording had just started, her short nails tapping to the beat on the graffitied wall, when the call picked up again. “Jesse Franklin’s office. How may I help you?”
“Hello. This is Shilo Anderson. May I speak with him?”
“He’s in conference. I’m happy to take a message.”
“I have an appointment with him for today.” She paused. Shilo didn’t want the entire world to know. But apparently, she’d need to inform Jesse’s secretary. “I won’t be able to make it. I’ve been arrested.”
***
“Hey, Jesse, got a minute?”
Jesse Franklin slowed his steps and turned to the voice, the one that made him cringe each time he heard it. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I hoped you’d cover for me at the lunch meeting with the Drurys. I sort of double booked myself and—”
“And you don’t want to deal with Mrs. Drury’s tears anymore. I get it.” He didn’t want to deal with the weepy woman, either. That was the main reason he’d handed off the file to Eli Shanahan, so he wouldn’t have to. In his head Jesse said no, firm and clear, telling Eli to just do his job. But then he opened his mouth. “Fine. But only this once. What time is the meeting?”
“Twelve fifteen at the Elks Lodge. Thanks, man.” With a slap to Jesse’s back, he hustled away. Probably out of fear that Jesse’d changed his mind. Which he ought to do, and fast. Why? Why did he let himself get pulled into these situations? He didn’t want to be Eli’s mentor any more than Eli wanted him to be. No love lost between them, that was for sure.
Besides, the bomb Grandfather dropped on him right before their seven a.m. meeting continued to ring in his ears. The old man had pushed his way through Jesse’s life for as long as he could remember, but this was the worst.
Still, he stopped by his secretary’s desk to have her add the lunch appointment to his calendar and to help keep him from forgetting.
Vivian Watters worked for the firm before Jesse finished grade school. Short and matronly with salt and pepper hair, she hadn’t been hired for her beauty. She was to make him look good, and she did an excellent job of that.
“Viv, I need to add a lunch meeting to today’s schedule. Twelve fifteen at the Elk’s Lodge. The Drurys.”
As she wrote that down, he rounded past her and strode into his office, slipping out of his jacket and loosening his tie.
“Don’t get too comfortable. You had a phone call. Here’s the message.” Vivian tore off a sheet from the official memo pad bearing the name of his grandfather’s firm, Hamilton, Franklin, and Reynolds, before she left his office, closing the door behind her.
Jesse watched her leave, grateful for her efficiency, before checking the paper in his hand.
Shilo Anderson will not make her meeting today. She has been arrest—
“Viv!” He jumped to his feet and hollered again as she opened his door.
“Yes, boss?”
“When did she call? Where did she call from? Where is she now?” He’d already put his jacket back on.
“She’s here in town at the jail. I called and checked. They have her for vagrancy and disturbing the peace.”
“No way. I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. I don’t think she’s been arraigned yet. This is fresh on the books.” Vivian adjusted his tie. “Want me to reschedule the Drurys?”
He couldn’t even guess how long this would take. Besides, he had a meeting with Shilo already scheduled for some time today—when was it? “What time was I to meet with Ms. Anderson?”
“You’d said to keep it open, that you’d see her whenever she arrived.” Her brows rose noting again without words that this was unusual.
“Good, good. I’ll be bringing her back here.” A shiver got trapped between his shoulder blades. “How do I look?”
“Handsome as always. Why? What are you worried about?”
“Worried? I’m not worried. It’s just, well, I haven’t seen her in a long time. A decade.” What if she didn’t recognize him? What if she’d changed and he didn’t recognize her?
“Bet you pick up right where you left off. Now, go rescue her. I’ll handle things here.” She pointed toward the elevator and motioned him on his way.
He punched the buttons for the basement parking garage while Vivian’s words echoed around him. Pick up where they left off? He wasn’t sure that was possible. Rescue her? Absolutely. She was the one who’d gotten away. If she needed him, he’d be there. Too bad it took ten years for him to get the chance to play Sir Galahad.
His steed wasn’t white, either. Instead, his mode of transportation was blue, Ferrari Blu. It would have to do, he guessed.
Jesse pulled from the lot and headed for the police department. If he convinced the chief to have the officer drop his charges, that would solve everything. Vagrancy? Disturbing the peace? None of that sounded like Shilo. Even though it’d been a long time, he couldn’t imagine that she’d changed that much.
He pulled open the police station door, he stepped into organized chaos. The clatter of typewriters, the smell of stale cigarette smoke, and people—the washed and the unwashed—busy moving to where they needed to be.
He stopped at the front desk to learn the chief wasn’t in, but Captain Bob Sargent covered the position, so Jesse asked to speak with him.
“Hey, Franklin, come on in.” Bob, in his short-sleeved shirt with his tie askew, waved Jesse back. “What brings you here today? I thought you didn’t mess with criminal cases.”
“I don’t. But my secretary got a call from a client who came from California to meet with me. Said she’d been arrested for vagrancy and disturbing the peace. Just want to understand what’s going on.” He took a chair in the chief’s office while Bob closed the door.
“Happened today? This morning?”
“Yeah.” Jesse started to drum his fingers but caught himself. Settle down, boy.
Bob opened the door again and called for someone.
A few seconds later, a woman entered with a clipboard and a sheaf of papers.
“What’s your client’s name?”
“Shilo. Shilo Anderson.”
Jesse hopped up to read over the woman’s shoulder.
She pulled her pencil out and used the eraser end to scan the paper. Then she flipped a page. “Anderson, Anderson. Here you go. Shilo Anderson. Picked up for vagrancy and dis—”
“We got that part. Who’s the arresting officer?” Bob said it, though Jesse thought it.
“Nucum. Bryan Nucum.” She slid her pencil back behind her ear, all business.
“Is he here? Or on patrol?” Bob handled the situation, allowing Jesse to just watch.
“I’ll go see.” The woman left.
“Isn’t Nucum that new guy who’s so gung-ho?” Jesse’d heard the name before, maybe from Eli who’d just finished with a traffic case where the client got a ticket but swore he wasn’t speeding. He had to hand it to Eli, it was a stroke of genius. He asked the officer to demonstrate how he calibrated his speed gun with the tuning fork. Nucum showed that he tapped the tuning fork against his shoe to get the tone. That was all Eli needed. Enough evidence had shown that tapping against the shoe in that manner could put nicks into the tuning fork that caused the tone to be off, thus making the calibrations of the speed gun wrong. Everyone in the gallery waiting to be seen about a speeding ticket that day got dismissed.
If it was the same guy, Jesse hoped for the same luck and returned to his chair.
A knock sounded at the jamb before the door cracked open. “You wanted to see me?”
Bob stood. “Yeah, come on in, Nucum. Wanted to ask you about that girl you brought in today.”
“Oh, she was hanging out at Foster Park around quarter-after-six this morning, playing her harmonica. I asked her if she lived here, and she said no.”
Now Jesse stood and shoved his hands in his pockets for everyone’s protection. “Did you ask about her plans?”
“No, sir.”
“So, you didn’t check if maybe she was waiting for someplace to open before she found a place to stay?”
“Huh?” This genius would fall apart on a witness stand.
Bob stepped in. “Never mind, Nucum. We can let this one go. She doesn’t seem like a hardened criminal.”
“That harmonica, though—”
“It’s fine. Franklin, why don’t you have Shirley take you over to get your client. I’ll take care of the rest here.” Bob motioned the officer to the desk.
Jesse slipped out. He didn’t want to hear any more anyway. Besides, the sooner he got to Shilo, the better.
Just as Bob said, Shirley took him to where they held Shilo as she waited for her arraignment, their footsteps making an echo on the way upstairs.
Other women filled the cells, but only one stood out to him. A little older, a bit thinner, but he had no doubt which one was Shilo. Especially when she spotted him and smiled with that tiny gap between her front teeth and her advertisement-worthy hair in a braid over her shoulder.
Shirley unlocked the cell and Shilo stepped out, wrapping him in one enormous hug.
He wanted to melt into the floor almost as much as he longed to return her embrace. Only he was a professional, and he needed to maintain a respectable image, especially with the police department.
“Oh, Jesse, it’s so good to see you.” She didn’t seem to notice he’d held back. Maybe that was good and didn’t hurt her feelings.
“Hey, Shilo. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Thank you.” Shilo turned to the women in the cell. “Bye, girls, I’ll be praying for you.”
Guess some things do change.
She linked her arm with his. “Jesse, I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so glad to see you.”
“Did anything happen?”
“Oh, no, just another arrest. It’s fine.”
This isn’t the first time? But he couldn’t say that out loud, not with Shirley walking out with them.
“Let’s get your things, and I’ll take you back to the office.”
She squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Jesse. I appreciate that.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.
With most men, she’d be putting her head on their shoulders because of her height. But with his six-foot-three stature, she only leaned against him.
And he liked it. Even if it was more of a public display of affection than he was comfortable with. This was Shilo.
Shirley slipped behind a counter and into the back room.
“How many suitcases did you bring?” Could he fit them all into his trunk?
“Just my backpack. I travel light these days.” She grinned that grin. The one that made his knees weak. How could she still have this effect on him?
Shirley returned with a khaki green backpack sporting an off-white trim, holding it out as if it might be contagious. True, the bag had seen better days. Was Shilo that bad off? Jesse rubbed his chin. What waited back in his office could be just what she needed.
Shilo signed her receipt, and Jesse walked her to his car. She stalled. “This is yours?” Her gray eyes grew nearly twice their size.
His ears warmed. She was the last person he wanted to think he was pretentious. “It makes Grandfather crazy. Calls it flashy.”
Her grin teased her lips. “Bet that cinched the deal.”
“You’re right.” He winked and unlocked her door, holding it until she was safely inside. Then he rounded the car to his side and climbed in.
He started the ignition and out of habit punched the button for his eight-track, The Temptations filling the vehicle with “My Girl.” He couldn’t have picked a better song, only it was a decade too late for them. Maybe. He was afraid to hope.
“You still listen to Motown.”
“Of course. When something is good, it’s good.” Jesse backed from the spot and eased into traffic. “I’ll take you to the office. We’ll get business out of the way.”
“That’s cool.” Shilo leaned back and closed her eyes with a sigh.
She must not have gotten much sleep, especially if she was in the park that early in the morning. Wonder what time her bus got in?
“So, Jesse, how’ve you been? Tell me what you’ve been up to these past ten years.” She turned her head his way and opened her right eye. Man, she looked tired.
“Hmm. I went to college, Ball State, and then finished my law degree at IU. Grandfather took me into the firm, and as soon as I passed the bar, I became an associate. Now I’m a junior partner.” He wouldn’t mention the next step since he couldn’t see it happening. No way would that old man push him like that, even if he did dangle the full partnership. It bordered on creepy.
“You’ve done well. Are you happy?”
“What’s happy?” He shrugged. “I do what’s required. Sometimes I meet great people and get to help those who really need it, but pretty much I do as I’m told.”
She turned in her seat, giving him her full attention. “Oh Jesse, that’s got to be one of the saddest things ever.”
“What’s sad about it? It just is. That’s reality.” He tossed her a half-smile.
The weight of her stare pressed on him. “You didn’t used to be such a cynic.”
He turned the car into the parking garage. “You’ve been gone a long time, Shilo. Things change.”
“No way you’d change your character that much.” She shook her head, and he felt her disappointment.
Maybe you never knew the real me. No, he couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, he parked and, then came around to get her door. They remained quiet all the way up the elevator to the second floor.
Jesse introduced her to Vivian before ushering her into his office and closing the door.
“Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?” Maybe if he played the friendly host, this awkwardness would go away.
She shook her head. “No, let’s get on with this.”
Okey-dokey. He pulled out the file marked with her grandfather’s name and opened to the will. “I can read it to you or give you a copy after explaining the main points.”
“Do that. Just the main points. I’ll read it later.”
Jesse cleared his throat and shuffled the pages to the summation, trying to keep his hands busy. “Okay. Your grandfather left everything to you. His entire estate, which, since all the debts have been covered, comes to around $2.4 million. That’s apart from his house and possessions.”
She stared at him as if she were flash-frozen.
“Shilo, are you okay?
Silence.
“Shilo?” He came around his desk, knelt in front of her, and sort of waved his hand. “Are you okay? Let me get you a drink of water.” So not the reaction he’d expected.
He poured a glass from the pitcher he kept in his small refrigerator and molded her hands around the cup.
She glanced up at him as she grasped the tumbler, blinked, and took a sip. “Oh, I had no idea.”
He paused long enough to make sure she was okay, then returned to his chair. “He made one stipulation, though. You must either be married at the time of this reading or be willing to be married within thirty days after.”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to form words before something squeaked out. “Married? I have to get married to receive the inheritance?” It took a moment, but she sighed, and a smile emerged. “Then that’s easy.” She stood and set her glass on his desk. “Thanks anyway, Jesse. I’m sorry you got stuck with this, but no thanks. I don’t marry for money.”
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and left his office.
All at once he was eighteen again watching his world walk away.
