Dead on the Fourth of July (David Dean Mysteries) - Page 27/233

"I made a promise, too," she whimpered. "I promised not to tell."

Dean breathed deeply as he watched the late afternoon sun filter through the curtains. "I can't tell you to break or keep promises, but I can sense you want to talk about this problem. You have to decide if it's important enough to speak up. I think you've already figured out it is. Trust us to understand and maybe help."

Martha bounced back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Say someone found something," she began. "Say it wasn't supposed to be where it was, but the person who found it wasn't supposed to be there either. And if they told about the thing that was there, then they'd get in trouble, for being there, in the place they weren't supposed to be in. I mean really big trouble." She stole a glance at Cynthia. "Like lying-to-their-father trouble. And they promised to someone else hope-to-die they wouldn't tell. What do you think they should do?"

"I guess it would depend on how important the something was," Dean answered.

"Pretty important. Like maybe a dead guy."

Dean looked down at her. "Tell me you didn't find a dead guy, Martha."

"No!" she said with a heaven-should-think-you'd-consider-such-a-thing look. Then, thinking better of her quick response, she began to pick at her fingernails. She tucked her hands under her bottom to stop. Dean continued to stare at her, waiting for further explanation. Finally she answered, "Let's just pretend."

"Go on," Dean said.

"Like maybe you're there when someone else finds a dead guy."

"Somewhere you're not supposed to be in the first place," Cynthia prodded.

"Right. Someplace where if you got caught there, you'd be in super deep trouble." She looked at Cynthia.

"Like sneaking-out-and-fibbing-about-it trouble," Cynthia offered.

"Worse."

"Martha, no one is going to spank you," Cynthia said. "Remember what I told you? We don't believe in that."

"Well, you ought to. It was really bad."

"Trust us to do what's fair, Martha," Dean said. He forced calmness into his voice as the thought of a wayward body resurrected very unpleasant memories.

"But I'm not supposed to tell . . . ."

"There are some things important enough that you're forced to tell someone, regardless of what might happen you. That's one of the consequences of being someplace where you're not supposed to be. There are times it can come back and bites you on the butt. It's like getting caught, not by a person, but by the circumstances of your actions."

Martha sighed and popped up to a sitting position. Dean sensed her relief. It was as if she was being forced to divulge what she wanted to tell but had promised not to.