A Shred of Evidence (11 page)

Julie went to the nursery door and peeked in on Sarah Beth and saw the rise and fall of the pink thermal blanket in her crib.

She closed the door and then peeked in on Nathaniel and saw his bed was empty. She looked in the toy chest and checked the closet. “Nathaniel, stop hiding. It’s time for your nap. Mama’s losing patience—”

“Julie, help! Somebody help.
Heeeelp!”

She raced outside and saw Ross kneeling on the driveway, Nathaniel limp in his arms, blood trickling from her son’s nose and mouth. Ross looked up at her, terror in his eyes. “Call 911! I backed over Nathaniel!” Ross held the boy to his chest and rocked. “Stay with me, son. Hang in there, buddy. Daddy’s here. Daddy loves you …”

Julie dashed into the house and dialed 911. After that, everything was a blur. Sirens. Paramedics. Police. Voices. The baby crying. The phone ringing. Someone holding her hand. Someone holding the baby. The dazed look on Ross’s face—and the sheet being pulled over Nathaniel’s …

Julie got up from the kitchen table and tore a paper towel off
the roll and wiped her eyes. She’d been over this a hundred times. Nathaniel must have been hiding under the car. Had he fallen asleep there? Why hadn’t she seen him sneak out of the house? If only she had checked on him a minute earlier.

She sat again, her elbows on the kitchen table, her warm hands pressed against the sides of her neck, remembering all-too-vividly that rainy Tuesday morning at Resurrection Cemetery …

Julie hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the tiny casket covered with a spray of baby roses and a pale blue ribbon with the word “Son.”

Pastor Helms dabbed his eyes, then held tightly to her hand and Ross’s, struggling to maintain his composure through the final prayer, something about Nathaniel being in the arms of his Heavenly Father, and everyone seeing him again in that place where pain and weeping will be no more.

But the pastor’s closing words were sobering—and unforgettable.

“Father in heaven, we bless Your Name in spite of the sorrow and the questions—and even the doubts. We trust in Your higher purpose and await that glorious day when we, too, will be called into Your presence.”

Julie dutifully squeezed the pastor’s hand, but stood silently and defiantly against his words. How could she trust a God who would allow a cruel tragedy like this to destroy their family—and especially after what Ross had already been through?

She got in the black limousine, wanting no more to do with Him or His church …

Julie got up and tore another paper towel off the roll. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and blew her nose. Things had only gotten worse since Nathaniel’s death. That reporter at the
Telegraph
had twisted and manipulated the events of Ross’s past and set him up to look like some sort of serial killer.

But child molestation? That accusation had caught her
completely off guard. Everything else Ross was accused of had at least originated from an incident that actually happened. Why this? Why would anyone just make this up?

Julie dabbed her eyes. The more Ross pulled away from her, the less certain she felt about anything.

Ellen Jones realized she’d been watching a TV program for a half hour and had no idea what was going on. She picked up the remote and turned off the TV, then went out to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk, and grabbed a bag of Oreos out of the pantry. She sat at the breakfast bar and took a cookie out of the bag, pulled it apart, and scraped the icing off one side with her teeth.

She knew Guy had been right to point out her premature conclusion of Ross Hamilton’s guilt. But what else could she think when all the pieces seemed to fit? She’d spent the entire day trying to talk herself out of her feelings about Ross. Certainly what she saw on the news hadn’t worked to swing her opinion a different direction.

Ellen wondered if she should call and introduce herself to Valerie Mink Hodges at the
Biloxi Telegraph
and see if the woman would open up to her, journalist to journalist. It was worth a try It might be helpful to know how she had researched Ross Hamilton’s background.

Ellen trusted her intuition in spite of the facts she didn’t have. But years of experience had taught her that only a conclusion based on fact would be just.

Experience had also taught her that until she had satisfied her own mind, she wasn’t going to find peace.

Gordy Jameson scraped the last of the peach ice cream out of the carton and set it in the kitchen sink. He suspected Eddie of
spray-painting the Hamilton’s garage but had seen no reason to pass his suspicion on to Will Seevers when it wouldn’t change what had happened—or why.

He went into the living room and flopped in his chair to wait for the eleven o’clock news when the phone rang.

“Hello.”

“It’s Eddie. What’d your buddy the police chief have to say?”

“Nothin’ that’s not a matter of public record.”

“Come on, Gordo, you two go way back.”

“Those are the rules, Eddie. And that’s how you and me hafta deal with this, too. Don’t tell me anything I don’t need to know.”

“You think I know something?”

Gordy didn’t answer.

“I didn’t set foot in the Hamilton’s driveway! I don’t even own a can of spray paint.”

“Hey, like I said, don’t tell me anything. But if you know who was behind this—”

“I don’t. And I already told the cops that.”

“Okay. But Will’s gonna nail you if you’re lyin’ about this.”

“I’m not. Did he tell you he suspects me?”

“We didn’t discuss it. But I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.”

“I don’t believe this!”

“Look, Eddie, you’re the one who let the cat outta the bag about Hank’s phone call, and far as I know, the only one who suspected Hamilton of bein’ a child molester. What would
you
think?”

Dead air.

“Okay, look,” Eddie said. “You know how I get after a few beers. I might’ve shot off my mouth around some of the guys. But I swear I was nowhere near the Hamiltons’ house.”

“Take it easy It’s not like I’m hung up about it. I don’t like the idea of a child molester livin’ in this town either.”

Julie woke up at 3:00 AM with a stomachache. She went to the kitchen and took some more Pepto-Bismol, then poked her head in Sarah Beth’s room and saw a tiny mound in the center of the bed completely covered with the Hello Kitty blanket they had bought her for Christmas.

Julie tiptoed over to the bed and folded down the blanket a few inches and saw only the face of a white teddy bear. She threw back the covers. “Sarah Beth?”

She turned on the light and looked around the room, then went to the hall bathroom and flipped the light switch. “Sarah Beth, where are you? Mama needs to see you.” She pushed back the shower curtain and saw an empty tub.

“What’s wrong?” Ross said sleepily.

“Sarah Beth’s not in her bed or in the bathroom.”

“She’s here somewhere,” Ross said. “I’ll help you look.”

Julie went down the hall and turned on the lights in the living room, dining room, and kitchen and searched thoroughly, even behind furniture and in the coat closet, all the while calling her daughter’s name. A sense of panic gripped her. Had Sarah Beth gone outside?

Julie checked the front door and then the kitchen door and found them locked. She was suddenly aware of Ross’s hands on her shoulders.

“She’s not in the other end of the house,” he said.

Julie turned around, her pulse racing. “She’s got to be here. The doors are locked.” She hurried back to Sarah Beth’s room, Ross on her heels, and rummaged again through the closet and the toy chest, and looked under the bed, willing away a vivid flashback of the afternoon she went looking for Nathaniel.

“I found something!” Ross said.

Julie rose to her feet and saw Ross trying to push the window up and then down.

“The window’s stuck open about an inch,” he said. “Was it like that before?”

“No, I don’t think it’s been opened since we moved in. But there’s no way she could’ve—”

“Someone’s been in here.” Ross turned on his heel, his eyes pooled with dread.

Julie stood trapped in silence, then clutched Ross’s pajama top. “No, she’s here! She’s hiding! We’ll find her! Let’s look some more! She’s here! She has to be here—”

Ross took hold of her wrists and held her gaze. “Julie, listen to me: She’s gone. We need to call the police.”

“No!” Julie flailed until Ross let go of her wrists, then she raced down the hall. She fumbled with the lock on the front door, then ran down the steps and over to the window of her daughter’s room. She saw something lying on the bushes and realized it was Sarah Beth’s tattered and faded blanket.

P
olice Chief Will Seevers stood looking through the two-way mirror, a cup of coffee in his hand, and observed Ross Hamilton being questioned by Investigator Al Backus.

“Tell me again,” Backus said, “what time you discovered your daughter missing.”

“Just after three this morning,” Ross said. “Julie got up to take something for an upset stomach and checked in on her and saw the covers were over her head. She went to pull them off her face and discovered the teddy bear.”

“What did she do then?”

“Checked the hall bathroom. That’s where I heard her calling for Sarah Beth. I helped her look, but we couldn’t find her anywhere in the house.”

“Tell me again when you discovered the window open.”

Ross raked his hands through his hair and rested his elbows on the table. “We ran out of places to look so we went back to Sarah Beth’s room and looked some more. That’s when we noticed the window was stuck open.”

“And
you
were the one to discover it?”

Ross nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why do you think your wife didn’t notice the window?”

“Why would she check it? She didn’t know Sarah Beth wasn’t in the house.”

Backus gazed intently at Ross. “And you didn’t discover the window open till you and your wife went back in there?”

“That’s right.”

“But you said you had already checked that end of the house. How could you have missed it?”

“I don’t know. I was pretty rattled.”

Backus leaned forward on his elbows. “Or maybe
you
opened the window so it would look like someone else had been in there?”

“What?” Ross turned ashen. “I don’t believe this. You’re wasting time trying to make me look like the guilty one when you should be out looking for my daughter!”

“Don’t worry,” Backus said. “We’ve got a whole team on it. But right now, I’m interested in what
you
have to tell me.”

“But I’ve already told you everything I know.”

Backus sat back in his chair, his arms folded. “Maybe you have. And maybe you haven’t.”

Will felt his cell phone vibrate. He took it out of pocket and hit the talk button. “Yeah?”

“Sir, it’s Rutgers. Eddie Drummond was home sound asleep. His old lady swears he’s been home all evening. Says he doesn’t know anything about the missing girl.”

“You believe him?”

“He was pretty convincing. You want us to bring him in for questioning?”

“No, let’s see what we can get out of the Hamiltons. Thanks, Jack.”