A Shred of Evidence (18 page)

Billy’s head bobbed. “Yes, I will work faster to-day”

“I’ll let it slide this time. Don’t go disappointin’ me now. By the way, how’s that sweet wife of yours? I don’t think I’ve seen her since the wedding.”

“Lisa is happy.”

“Remind me how long you’ve been married?”

“Jan-u-ary thir-teenth. I will work now.”

Gordy opened the back door and held it while Billy went outside. “I don’t think those umbrellas have ever been this clean.”

Billy looked over his shoulder, a broad smile revealing a row of crooked teeth. “You ain’t seen no-thin’ yet.”

Gordy chuckled and shut the door. It was easy to forget that Billy’s thick tongue and childlike manner didn’t negate his sense of humor—or his emotional needs.

He still remembered the glow on Billy’s face as he watched Lisa come down the aisle. And at the reception, how Billy held tightly to her hand and led her around from guest to guest, looking as if he’d just won the lottery.

There were those who had questioned whether these two mentally challenged adults should be allowed to take on the responsibilities of married life. But Gordy was glad Billy had found someone to love.

The sound of a woman’s voice broke Gordy’s concentration, and he realized Weezie Taylor was standing there, her hand on her hip.

“You comin’ back to the real world, or am I gonna have to send out a posse?” Weezie’s hearty laugh resonated throughout the room. “What in the world has its hooks in your mind?”

“Oh, nothin’ much,” Gordy said. “I thought you weren’t comin’ in till ten.”

“Somebody’s gotta be sure you’re plugged in.” She poked his chest with her index finger. “Actually, I wanna get my work done so I’ll have time for a bowl of that clam chowder before customers start comin’.”

Gordy smiled. “I’ll stay outta your way I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.”

Julie Hamilton sat on the couch, her eyes closed, aware of the mantle clock ticking and Ross out in the kitchen turning the pages of the newspaper. It had seemed cruel asking her parents not to come stay right now, but she couldn’t handle the added tension of their ongoing anger at Ross.

After Nathaniel’s death, her parents had begun driving down from Meridian and spending the weekends. Ross had tried to be
tactful with them, explaining that he needed to be alone with his thoughts. They honored his wishes, but had registered their hurt by not talking to him since.

Julie’s eyes brimmed with tears. All the hard feelings seemed petty in light of the present crisis. How would
any
of them be able to deal Sarah Beth’s death when they hadn’t even come to peace with Nathaniel’s?

Julie got up and looked through the blinds on the living room window, touched by the flowers, cards, and stuffed animals along the fence where someone had tied a yellow ribbon. She glanced at the crowd but avoided rereading the picket signs, choosing to believe that those who had misjudged her husband were at least sincere in their concern for Sarah Beth. It was hard to hate them for that. But how she hated the media! How merciless it had been in those horrific months following Nathaniel’s accident!

And just when things had started to die down, that Hodges woman from the
Biloxi Telegraph
called and left a message, but Ross had been too depressed to talk to her. It never occurred to Julie that the woman would print all those things about Ross without talking to him. Julie still seethed, thinking about their telephone confrontation …

“Ms. Hodges, this is Ross Hamilton’s wife,” Julie had said. “Where do you get off trashing my husband? You have no idea what he’s been through!”

“He didn’t return my call,” Valerie said. “The public deserved to know the facts.”

“You twisted the facts! You made Ross out to be some kind of serial killer! He’s a kind and decent man—a wonderful father! How could you do this to him?”

“Like I said, I gave him a chance to comment.”

“You left your name and phone number on our answering machine with no explanation. How were we supposed to know you had dredged up the past and put your own spin on it?”

“It’s all a matter of public record, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Well, thanks to you, so is the
suspicion
you created. Our lives are a living hell. We can’t sleep. The phone never stops ringing. We’re getting hate mail. We can’t go anywhere without people staring and whispering!”

“Look, I was just doing my job.”

“Well, your
job
ruined my husband’s reputation! There’s no way we’ll ever find peace in this town …”

Julie was aware of her pulse racing. She let go of the blinds and went and sat on the couch, overwhelmed again with all the old feelings. She had been shocked to hear on last night’s news that Valerie Mink Hodges was in Seaport—and in the thick of the protests against Ross. It seemed so unfair that the woman’s first amendment rights were being protected when no one seemed to care about Ross’s.

Perverts have no rights
. Julie cringed at the words she remembered seeing on one of the picket signs. It was just as well her parents weren’t here to see this.

Gordy put a paper clip on the stack of food orders he’d completed, then attached a Post-it note with Weezie’s name on it and dropped the stack in her to-do box. He left his office and went out into the kitchen, where Weezie stood leaning against the stainless steel sink, spooning the last of the clam chowder out of her mug.

“So what’s the verdict?” Gordy said.

Weezie smiled and licked her spoon. “I do believe this is the best I’ve ever tasted. You’d better be good to that new cook of yours.”

“Hear that, Micah? Weezie’s braggin’ on you.”

A dark face with a broad grin peered around the center post. “Preach it, sister.”

“Wooooeeee!” Weezie hollered. “Get me out of here before I put on another five pounds.”

“Aw, come on,” Gordy said, “have a piece of key lime pie.”

“Get thee behind me, Satan! I have the victory!” Weezie let out a robust, contagious laugh. “Time to go to work and burn off my lunch.” She put on her name tag and disappeared into the dining room.

Gordy winked at Micah and then went into the dining room just as Adam Spalding, Eddie Drummond, and Captain Jack walked in the door together.

“Good timin’, guys,” Gordy said.

Captain slapped him on the back. “You gonna eat with us today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got three waitresses scheduled in. Weezie’ll watch things.” Gordy followed the group out to the deck and sat between Adam and Captain and across from Eddie.

“So how’s your Vet runnin’?” Gordy said to Adam.

“Fine, but I feel like I should boil it in hot water or something after Hamilton’s had his hands all over it.”

Eddie smirked. “That was unkind. True, but unkind.”

“How about those picketers outside the Hamiltons’ house?” Captain leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I think they’ve got guts.
Somebody
needed to get it out in the open.”

“How can you say that when the facts don’t line up?” Gordy jabbed Captain in the ribs with his elbow. “This is the same kinda crowd mentality that causes people to riot and loot and do lots of other stupid things.”

“I didn’t see any rioting or looting goin’ on,” Captain said. “Just a lot of opinions bein’ expressed.”

Gordy raised his eyebrows. “Just wait till they try runnin’ Hamilton outta town on a rail. This could turn ugly real quick.”

“I take it you don’t approve of the protesting?” Adam said.

Gordy poked at the ice in his glass with a straw. “What I don’t approve of is people makin’ up their minds without even listenin’ to what the authorities are sayin’.”

“Oh, I get it,” Eddie said. “Because your friend the police
chief says they can’t find anything on Hamilton, that’s supposed to make us feel better?”

Gordy locked on to Eddie’s gaze. “Will made it clear the investigation is far from over. But right now, they’ve got nothin’ to prove Hamilton’s a child molester. I think it makes sense to listen to the authorities who have facts instead of jumpin’ to conclusions. That’s how people get hurt.”

“Is that so?” Eddie said. “Why don’t you tell that to Sarah Beth Hamilton—and her brother—and all those other victims?”

Gordy exhaled a sigh of exasperation and shook his head from side to side. “Let’s not forget how this mess got started, Eddie. You’re the one who overheard Hank talkin’ on the phone about Ross Hamilton. Hank says you heard wrong, and the cops and the FBI can’t find anything to show otherwise. Why can’t you leave it alone and let them do their job?”

“Well, excuuuuse me!” Eddie threw up his hands and sat back in his chair. “Then suppose
you
tell us what happened to Sarah Beth?”

Gordy was aware of his face burning, and the customers at the next table staring. He leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice. “We go back a long way, Eddie. Let’s not let this thing come between friends. We both want the same thing: justice served and that little girl found.”

Eddie cracked his knuckles and didn’t say anything for what seemed like an eternity Finally the lines on his forehead relaxed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. Guess I’m too wrapped up in this thing.”

Police Chief Will Seevers read and reread the case notes in the Hamilton file, looking for something—anything—that would make him feel less helpless. The odds that Sarah Beth was still alive were so remote that he no longer considered the possibility. The ending of this story wasn’t going to be filled with celebration,
and he wondered what shocking revelation it might bring.

He heard footsteps running down the hall and looked up just as FBI Special Agent Bryce Moore came rushing through the doorway and put his palms on the top of Will’s desk.

“We just got a hot tip that there’s a RISK safe house in Port Smyth.”

“Man, that’s practically on our door step!” Will said.

“Come on, let’s head over there. I’ll fill you in on the way I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

J
ulie Hamilton sat with Ross on the living room couch and listened intently to FBI Special Agent Danny Connor tell them that a possible RISK safe house had been located in Port Smyth. Did she dare cling to the hope that Sarah Beth might be alive—might actually be unharmed?

“Often these tips don’t pan out,” Connor said. “But Special Agent Moore wants you to know what’s going on. The bureau’s got agents and a SWAT team headed that way. We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything.”

“Why do you need a SWAT team if this group won’t harm the children?” Julie said.

“Because they have every incentive to run, ma’am. The last thing they want is to get caught and risk exposing the entire operation. Our SWAT team is precise. They won’t take chances with the children’s safety.”

Julie was surprised when Ross took her hand in his and couldn’t remember the last time he had shown her affection. She realized he was shaking—or was it she?

“You folks have any other questions?”

“I do,” Ross said. “If you find Sarah Beth, will you bring her home to us?”

Connor sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “If the allegation of sexual abuse is determined to be false, yes, sir.”

“And if someone else—” Ross choked on the words and paused until he gathered his composure. “If someone else has abused my daughter, how will I ever be able to prove my innocence?”

Connor didn’t look up. “For right now, let’s just concentrate on finding Sarah Beth.”

Police Chief Will Seevers peeked around the side of Special Agent Bryce Moore’s car, which was parked in front of a dilapidated beach house near the old pier at Port Smyth. There was no sign that anyone might be inside the house, other than a white delivery van parked out back.

FBI agents had the house surrounded in less than a minute.

Bryce held the walkie-talkie to his ear. “Okay, hold your positions and don’t fire unless I tell you to. Out.”

He picked up the bullhorn. “This is Special Agent Bryce Moore of the FBI. We know this is a RISK safe house. We have you surrounded. Put down your weapons and come outside with your hands in the air.”

A deafening staccato of automatic gunfire sent everyone diving for cover. Will dropped down behind the squad car, bullets kicking up puffs of dirt just a few feet from him.