Murder Past Due (6 page)

“I’ll be fine,” Julia replied. “I’m sorry that you got dragged into this, but I know you’ll help Justin if you can. Just be there if he needs someone to talk to, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t.” I paused for a moment. There was a question I felt I had to ask, but Julia might not want to answer it. “What made you decide to get in touch with Godfrey after all this time and tell him about Justin?”

Julia threw me an odd look, but any answer she might have given me was forestalled by Justin’s abrupt entrance into the waiting room.

His stormy face said it all. The time spent with his father had not gone well.

Julia stood and held out her arms. Justin walked into them, and they embraced. I turned away to give them some privacy. The elderly woman and her son were gone now. I got up and moved to the other end of the room. Julia and Justin conversed in low voices.

After a few minutes, while I stared out a window into the parking lot, Julia called my name. I strolled back to her and Justin.

“Thank you for coming,” Julia said, one arm still around her son. “I think Justin’s ready to go. I really appreciate your bringing him here.”

Mother and son both appeared worn to the bone now. The best thing I could do was to get Justin home and let him have some privacy or maybe some time with Diesel. My cat had a tonic effect on people, and Justin needed that now.

“Glad to do it,” I said. I took her free hand and held it between both of mine for a moment. Julia smiled, and I released her hand. “If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.”

Julia nodded. “Put some ice on that bruise if it hurts very much.” Justin gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and I walked out of the waiting room with him a couple of steps behind.

In the car, Justin didn’t say anything. After he buckled his seat belt, he leaned back and closed his eyes. I kept silent. If he wanted to talk, I’d listen.

Justin stirred, opened his eyes, and looked out the window. “He apologized for hitting me.” He touched his cheek briefly and then let his hand slide back down to the seat.

I left the car in park. “I’m glad to hear that,” I said.

“He said he’d never hit me again. He was crying.” Justin turned to look at me. “You think he means that?”

“I sure hope so.” Faced with alienating his son completely, perhaps Ezra was trying to change his behavior.

“He kept telling me he was my father, that he had taken care of me for eighteen years. Like he wanted me to be grateful, I guess.”

“In his way I think he’s trying to tell you that he loves you and considers you his son,” I said, choosing my words with care. “I don’t think he’s really looking for gratitude. He doesn’t want to lose you, but he might not be able to find the right words to tell you that.”

Justin frowned. “He won’t listen when I try to tell him things. He just preaches at me and tells me what I ought to do, instead of trying to understand me. I’m not him.”

“No, you aren’t. But sometimes fathers have a hard time letting their sons be their own men. I think some fathers feel their sons have to be just like them in order to justify their own choices in life. Does that make sense?”

Justin’s eyes had grown big. “I never thought about it like that. That’s why he wants me to be a preacher too, huh?” He turned to gaze out the window again, his head against the glass.

I had given him enough to think about. I backed the car out of the parking space and headed for home. Justin stayed silent the whole way.

When I turned onto my street, I glanced ahead and swore under my breath. A strange car, a late model Jaguar, sat on the street in front of my house. It could only be Godfrey.

I was tempted to drive right by. Justin needed some time to himself, I thought. But this meeting with Godfrey was inevitable. Maybe it was better to get it over with.

As I passed the car I looked inside. Sure enough, Godfrey waved as I turned into the driveway. I clicked the garage door opener. Justin stirred as I drove inside.

I turned off the car and clicked the opener again. The door came down behind us.

In the dim light provided by two windows high in the wall in front of us, I examined Justin’s face. He still bore signs of strain from his time with Ezra.

“That’s him in the car out there, isn’t it?” Justin unbuckled his seat belt.

“If you’re not ready to talk to him, you don’t have to.”

Justin blinked a couple of times. “No, I want to talk to him.” He paused. “But what do I call him?”

“Only what you feel comfortable with. He’ll understand if you call him Mr. Priest. You both need to know each other better before you decide anything else.” I smiled at him.

Justin nodded. He opened his door and got out.

I followed him into the house, and sure enough, Diesel was waiting near the kitchen door. Justin knelt on the floor beside the cat and rubbed Diesel’s head.

“You talk to Diesel for a few minutes,” I said. “I’ll let Godfrey in. I want to have a word with him first if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, sir,” Justin said. Diesel climbed into his lap and was butting the boy’s chin with his head.

For a moment Justin looked much younger than eighteen, and I worried about the burdens piling up on those boyish shoulders.

Godfrey was waiting on the doorstep. I motioned him inside.

“Hi, Charlie. Where have y’all been?” As he stepped past me into the hallway, he showed no signs of his fight with Ezra.

“At the hospital,” I said, closing the door behind him. “Julia called and asked Justin to come.”

“The hospital?” Godfrey shook his head. “Man, I didn’t hit Ezra that hard, did I?”

“They wanted to make sure his nose isn’t broken,” I said. I led the way into the living room and motioned for Godfrey to sit down in one of the two overstuffed armchairs. I sat in the other, and we regarded each other for a moment.

“Ezra will probably be fine,” I said. “Though I don’t think Julia’s very happy with him at the moment. Or with you.”

“Julia.” Godfrey leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t have recognized her, she’s changed so much since the last time I saw her.” He was frowning.

“We’re all fifty years old,” I said, my tone deliberately harsh. “You don’t look like you did thirty years ago either, you know.”

Godfrey scowled at me. “You think I don’t know that? I wasn’t criticizing Julia, anyway. It was just a bit of a shock.”

“Forget about Julia and Ezra for the moment. Let’s talk about Justin.”

“Where is he? I really want to see him.” He turned in his chair, half rising, and looked toward the door.

“He’s in the kitchen with Diesel. He’ll be here in a minute. I wanted to talk to you first, though.” I held up a hand, and Godfrey sat back.

“So talk.” Godfrey folded his arms across his chest. “What are you going to lecture me about now?”

“I’m not going to lecture you,” I said, wanting to add an epithet or two but restraining myself. “Julia has entrusted Justin to my care, and I simply wanted to tell you to move slowly with him. He’s had a rough day so far, and he doesn’t need you charging into his life like a bull in a china shop. You need to focus on what Justin needs, and not so much on what you want.”

“Yes, Mr. Harris. Thank you for telling me what to do.” Godfrey’s tone mocked me, but I ignored that.

“I have no reason to expect that you’ve changed much in thirty years, Mr. Priest,” I said just as mockingly. “You never did think much about anyone but yourself. But you have a son now, and that has to change.”

Godfrey stared at me. “Lord, I had no idea you despised me so much. What did I ever do to you?”

I almost laughed in his face. The man had a colossal ego. “We don’t have enough time to go into that. Just stop and think for a moment about what you did to Julia nineteen years ago. Walking away and leaving her pregnant, knowing she would probably marry Ezra. You have a lot to answer for.”

Godfrey’s face whitened, and I knew I was right. He had lied about not knowing Julia was pregnant when he left her. To his credit, he didn’t try to deny it now.

“I’ll go get Justin,” I said, rising from my chair. “And you take it easy with him.”

Godfrey didn’t answer. I left him gazing at the wall.

In the kitchen, Justin and Diesel were still on the floor. Justin’s face was buried in Diesel’s neck, and Diesel was muttering away. “Are you okay?” I stopped a few paces away from the pair.

Justin looked up at me, his face slightly tearstained. “Yes, sir.”

“Why don’t you wash your face and hands?” I said. “Do you still want to see Mr. Priest?”

Nodding as he got his feet, Justin went to the sink and splashed his face with water. After patting himself dry with a towel, he washed his hands.

“I’m ready,” he said as he turned to me.

I put a hand on his shoulder and kept it there as he preceded me out of the kitchen and to the living room. His steps were slow but steady.

We paused in the doorway of the living room. Godfrey stood, facing us as we came into the room.

Justin stopped several feet away from his biological father, and Godfrey drank in the sight of his son like a man who hasn’t had water for weeks.

“Justin, this is Godfrey Priest. Godfrey, this is Justin Wardlaw.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Justin said. He took a step forward, his hand out, but Godfrey didn’t move. Justin faltered.

Godfrey started to speak. He stopped to clear his throat. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He finally held out his hand, and Justin stepped forward to take it.

Godfrey shook his son’s hand, his eyes still fixed on the boy’s face. Now that I saw the two of them together, I spotted certain features they shared. Justin had Julia’s coloring and her eyes, but his nose and cheekbones were just like Godfrey’s.

Godfrey drew Justin toward the couch, and they both sat down, neither one of them speaking, each simply staring at the other.

“What happened to your face?” Godfrey asked.

I turned and stole away, leaving father and son alone together. I would let Justin explain the bruise.

Back in the kitchen, I picked up the phone and punched in Melba Gilley’s number. I had called her earlier, before I took Justin to the hospital, to tell her I might not be back this afternoon. As Diesel rubbed against my legs, I glanced at the clock. It was now almost two-thirty.

“Hey, Melba, it’s Charlie.” I listened for a moment as I leaned back against the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure. I might be back a little later. Oh, so you’ve already heard about that?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that news of Ezra’s set-to with Godfrey had already hit the Athena grape-vine. And trust Melba to be one of the early grapes on the vine.

“Yes, I do know what it’s all about. I’m surprised your informant didn’t tell you that, too.”

Melba squawked a bit in my ear.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” I hated the fact that this scandal would be all over town, and all over the college, before long. Justin and Julia deserved some privacy, but thanks to Ezra and Godfrey, they had lost all chance of that.

“I’ll tell you more about it when I see you,” I said. She might as well have the real story from me instead of who-knew-what wild rumors were flying around.

Diesel had his paw on my thigh now. He chirped at me.

“Gotta go now. I’ll talk to you later.” I listened a moment longer and then hung up the phone.

“What is it, boy?” Diesel was talking away.

Then I heard the front door close.

Diesel followed me from the kitchen into the hallway. The living room was empty.

“Justin? Where are you?”

There was no answer. I went to the window and looked out in time to see Justin getting in the car with Godfrey.

“Well, they’re gone,” I said to Diesel. “That’s what you were trying to tell me, weren’t you?”

Diesel looked up at me as if to say,
Of course
.

“I really wish they hadn’t,” I said, heading back to the kitchen. “But nothing I can do about it now. Guess we’ll go back to work, okay, boy?”

About fifteen minutes later, back in my office, Diesel and I were settled in for the remainder of the afternoon. I planned to work till around six, then we would head home. I needed to change for the big dinner tonight, an occasion I did not anticipate with much joy.

I had hardly sat down in my chair before Melba popped in, eager to get the scoop from me. I gave her a bare outline of the facts, and her jaw dropped a couple of times.

“Poor Julia,” she said when I finished. “That Godfrey is a rat bastard, if I do say so myself. Running off and leaving her pregnant like that.”

I hadn’t needed to spell it out for Melba. Anyone who knew Godfrey in our high school days wouldn’t be a bit surprised.

Melba left after a few more comments on Godfrey and his behavior, and I was able to work for a while with no interruptions.

Around four o’clock I realized I was thirsty. I rummaged in my bag, but I had forgotten to bring any bottled water with me. Taking a large plastic mug with me, I headed downstairs to the staff lounge for the filtered water cooler there. Diesel yawned at me, declining to come with me.

The walk down and up the stairs would do me good. I spent so much time hunched over the computer that my back generally ached by the time I got home at night. I hardly ever remembered to get up and stretch the way I should.

I rounded the bottom of the staircase and walked down the short hallway to the back of the house. The room that had once been the study-cum-office of the master of the house had been converted into a congenial space where library employees could eat lunch, have some coffee, and relax.

I hadn’t expected to find anyone in the lounge at this time of the afternoon, but Willie Clark sat at one of the tables, frowning down at the legal pad in front of him. He put down his pen as he heard me enter and scowled at me.