A Shred of Evidence (37 page)

“Obviously the good news in all this,” Newt said to Ross, “is we believe you had nothing to do with your daughter’s disappearance. But it’s going to take some work for you to turn your life around. It’s important that you get good counseling.”

“How am I supposed to afford it?” Ross said. “Our insurance doesn’t cover mental health.”

“Most psychologists will work with you on a sliding scale. If you’re serious about wanting to get better, they’ll do what they can. I’ll be glad to put in a good word for you. There’s nothing going on inside your head that can’t be helped by getting a fresh perspective and taking some time to deal with all the losses.”

“Guess I’m not nuts after all.”

Newt smiled. “Hardly. Do either of you have questions?”

“What will you tell the media?” Julie said.

“Just that Ross’s psychological profile coupled with the lack of evidence has caused us to eliminate him as a suspect in Sarah Beth’s disappearance and focus on other leads.”

“You think the media will leave us alone now?” Julie said.

“Possibly. There’s usually a renegade or two who will want to
stay with it. If I were you, I wouldn’t comment on this to anyone.”

“Has that woman from RISK told the FBI anything?” Ross said.

“No. But she thinks you’re guilty of abusing Sarah Beth. Once she’s been told you’re no longer a suspect, she might mellow and tell us something. But from what I’m hearing, she’s pretty callous.”

Will Seevers heard footsteps coming down the hall and the jingling of keys. He walked over and sat at the table next to Bryce Moore just as the heavy bars opened and a sheriff’s deputy brought Moira McDaniel into the room, handcuffed and dressed in bright orange.

The deputy seated Moira on the opposite side of the table next to her attorney, Godfrey Hawkins.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” the deputy said.

Will sat with his hands folded on the table, studying the woman who appeared no less harsh than the last time he’d seen her.

“How nice you each brought a buddy,” Moira said. “I know how you law enforcement guys like to gang up on the helpless.”

“Helpless?” Bryce said. “Seems to me you could do a lot to help yourself.”

Moira folded her arms on the table. “I’ve already told you everything I plan to. Why are we here?”

“Ross Hamilton has been dropped from the list of suspects.” Bryce lifted his eyebrows. “We no longer think he molested his daughter or had anything to do with her disappearance.”

“Bully for him,” she said.

Will caught her gaze and held it. “Moira, we want the same thing—justice for the abuser and safety for Sarah Beth.”

“Everyone in the system says that. It just doesn’t happen.”

“We need you to level with us about the Hamilton girl,” Bryce said. “If you can help us find her and the RISK safe house or houses involved, we can make the conspiracy charges go away.”

“Don’t say anything, Moira,” Attorney Hawkins said.

Bryce’s eyes turned to slits. “We can make you a very attractive deal.”

“Pretty hard to deal since I don’t know anything.”

“Come on, Moira,” Bryce said. “You found out about a child you thought was being abused and still living at home, you got caught up in the media hype, and less than forty-eight hours later you removed her in the middle of the night. This abduction had
RISK’S
fingerprints all over it.”

“If you had evidence, you would’ve produced it,” Godfrey said. “We’re wasting each other’s time.”

“Okay, here’s the bottom line. What we really want is Sarah Beth Hamilton. Give her to us and we’ll make the tape go away.”

Moira stared at Bryce, her arms folded.

Bryce blinked first. He mumbled a swear word and sat back in his chair.

Will leaned forward on his elbows. “Moira, are you a mother?”

“I’ve got three teenagers.”

“Then you know what it is to love a child. Ross Hamilton is innocent. There’s been a big huge mistake and Sarah Beth has been robbed of the only parents she’s ever known—the ones who adore her and can’t sleep at night, worrying about what might be happening to her. Ross even tried to take his life. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, but if you have any compassion in your heart, think about what this is doing to Sarah Beth
and
her parents.”

Moira seemed to study Will’s face, then leaned over and whispered something to her attorney.

“Okay, gentlemen,” Godfrey said, “maybe you could take a walk or something. I need a few minutes alone with my client.”

“Ellen?”

Ellen opened her eyes and saw the blades of the ceiling fan going round and round above her. Why she was in bed while it was light outside? She glanced over at the clock: 3:05. She remembered lying down after she took Julie and Ross home from the church.

“Honey?” Guy said, walking into the bedroom. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were taking a nap.”

“I just woke up.”

“And I just got home. I don’t have to go back till Monday.” He leaned over, his hands on either side of her pillow, and pressed his lips to hers. “Hi.”

Ellen smiled. “Did you end your meetings on a positive note?”

“Yes, but let’s talk about what’s been going on with you first. I just heard on the radio someone else spotted Sarah Beth.”

Ellen sat up on the side of the bed. “When?”

“Yesterday. A lady in Old Seaport read one of the flyers and told police she was sure she had spotted the couple and the little girl along a county road, picking wild flowers. She remembered the child because of the pink bonnet.”

“Was she able to offer any more information about the couple?”

“No, she didn’t pay much attention to them. It was the pink bonnet that caught her eye. So were you able to get help with the flyers?”

“Yes, it was unbelievable the way people at church joined in.”

Ellen told Guy about all the events of the morning and the efforts of the thirteen other volunteers, including Pastor Crawford.

“He was very sweet about the whole thing,” Ellen said. “I
was pleased with the way all of them treated Julie and Ross. I never expected that kind of support after all the bad press.”

“I’m proud of you and them,” Guy said. “It’s going to be really something if those flyers help the authorities find Sarah Beth. I doubt there’s anyone in Seaport who hasn’t seen one.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Ellen said. “Our Gossip Queen struck again. This time she left a note in our mailbox, and one in Pastor Crawford and Dorothy’s. She told them I was lying about not having an affair. What nerve! I kept the one she left in our mailbox so you could see it.”

Ellen reached in the nightstand and handed him the note.

“Hmm … a decay in my bones, eh? If she feels that strongly, I wonder why she doesn’t just ring the doorbell and get it out in the open. This note-passing is really childish.”

“I’m ashamed to tell you what I did,” Ellen said. “I was so mad I left a note in our mailbox with Proverbs 18:8: ‘The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down to a man’s inmost parts.’ And Proverbs 19:5: A false witness will not go unpunished, and he who pours out lies will not go free.’ I forgot to check the mail when I got home. I don’t know whether she got it or the mailman did.”

“Either way, she left another one. It’s on top of the stack of mail in the kitchen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just got here. Besides, I didn’t realize what it was until you enlightened me on how you’ve been using your writing talent.”

“It’s not funny, Guy.”

“No, it’s not. It’s the image of you toting notes back and forth from the mailbox that makes it hard to keep a straight face.”

Will Seevers squeezed past the sheriff’s deputy and followed Bryce Moore into the room where Moira McDaniel and Godfrey Hawkins were waiting. He resumed his place at the table.

“I’ve had a long talk with my client, and she’s decided against my better judgment to tell you something. All right, Moira. Say what you have to say.”

Moira seemed to ignore Bryce and kept her attention directed at Will. “Chief Seevers, I thank you for being genuinely concerned about Sarah Beth Hamilton’s well being. Believe me when I tell you I have no knowledge as to her whereabouts. I have never met the child, nor do I know anyone who has—”

“Okay, Moira, that’s enough,” Godfrey said. “Gentlemen, that’s all she has to say.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us that before instead of running us in circles?” Bryce said.

Moira glared at him. “For one thing, I really don’t like your attitude,
Special
Agent Moore. You show disdain for caring people willing to risk everything to protect the wounded children the system has failed time and time again—”

“Moira, don’t say anything else,” Godfrey said. “You’ve told them what they need to hear, and—”

“And for another,” she said, talking a little louder, “I was furious that Sarah Beth Hamilton had been left in the home with what I surmised from the news to be a sexual predator for a father. I
wanted
the public to think RISK had rescued her so that DCF would come under fire for failing another child.”

Godfrey Hawkins threw up his hands and sank back in his chair, his head shaking from side to side.

“However, now that Ross Hamilton is no longer a suspect,” Moira said, “I felt a responsibility to Sarah Beth not to withhold the truth. I assure you, it’s a waste of your time and resources to pursue RISK in your search for this child.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Will said.

“This isn’t going to get you a reduced sentence, if that’s what you think,” Bryce said.

“You have no idea how I think,
Special
Agent Moore. That’s part of the problem.”

Julie watched Special Agent Clifford drive off, then went outside and sat on the porch steps for the first time since someone spray-painted “Child Molester” on the garage door.

All the picket signs had disappeared. Across the street, the sidewalk was crammed with media people, but she tuned out the questions they shouted at her. She just wanted to breathe fresh air—and to thank God she hadn’t lost Ross to suicide.

The psychological evaluation made perfect sense and had filled in the missing blanks that had plagued her for years. She had always known that much of Ross’s pain stemmed from the accidental shooting death of his little brother. But now that the evaluation had defined the emotional cycle of pain and punishment, perhaps Ross would be able to see it and choose to respond in a more healthy way. She was aware of the front door opening and then Ross sitting beside her.

“I just heard on the radio that a lady in Old Seaport saw the little girl in the pink bonnet yesterday—on some back road picking wildflowers or something! She couldn’t give a description of the man and woman she was with, but she was sure the little girl fit the description!”

Julie’s heart sank. “Then it’s probably not Sarah Beth. That’s too much exposure for a child someone’s trying to hide. I wish I had seen her in the park so I’d know for sure.”

“Come on, this should be encouraging! Old Seaport isn’t far from Bougainvillea Park. That’s three sightings in the same area. I’ll bet the authorities are all over that side of town.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

Ross slipped his arm around her. “What did you think of the results of my psyche test?”

“It made perfect sense.”

“I would’ve never put it together,” Ross said. “I’m anxious to get into counseling and get my head on straight.”

Julie rested her hand on his knee. “Your head’s on straight. You just need to let go of the feeling that you deserve to be punished. That’s a terrible burden to carry around. Easier said than done, I know.”

“I really wanna get better. I can’t go through another year like the last one.”

“That’s two of us.” Julie was suddenly aware that the media presence had grown. “Look at them out there, the vultures. I’ll bet they heard about the woman in Old Seaport spotting the girl in the pink bonnet.”

“Be glad,” Ross said. “Maybe they’ll work with us instead of against us for a change. It was cool the way all those people at Ellen’s church helped us get the flyers out. I never once felt condemned. That was a relief.”

Julie looked over at him. “I thought I heard you say, ‘amen,’ when the pastor prayed.”

Ross half smiled and pulled her a little closer. “Eavesdropper.”