Silent Killer (12 page)

Cathy checked her watch. She had a lunchtime appointment with Jack and his contractor, Clay Yarbrough, whom she’d never met.

Lorie had offered to take over as the consultant on this job, cautioning her about what it might cost her to renew her friendship with Jackson Perdue. But she had spent a lifetime playing it safe, doing what was expected of her, fulfilling other people’s wishes. Never again.

“You can’t turn back the clock,” Lorie had told her. “Even if you and Jack reconnect, it won’t be the same.”

No, it wouldn’t be the same. She didn’t expect it to be. Actually, she didn’t expect anything in particular. But whether she worked with Jack professionally or dated him or became his lover again, the decisions were hers to make.

Seth had jumped at the chance to do Brother Hovater’s yard work. He had three very good reasons: it pleased Granddad that their minister had asked Seth; it gave him a chance to earn some money this summer to save toward buying himself a car; and, last but most important, it gave him the opportunity to be near Missy.

Being here at his old home, cutting the grass and trimming the hedges that he had once helped his dad cut, seemed odd. He halfway expected his mom to come out the back door and bring him a bottle of Gatorade. But this was no longer his home. He and his mom and dad didn’t live here anymore. Sometimes his old life seemed like little more than a dream, as if it had been some other guy’s life.

“Hey, you,” Felicity called loudly as she came up behind him. “Why don’t you take a break? Missy and I are fixing to eat lunch, and we made enough sandwiches for all of us.”

Seth turned off the Weed Eater, propped it against the fence and yanked a rag from the back pocket of his old, tattered shorts. As he swiped the perspiration off his forehead, he turned around and faced Felicity.

“Her dad’s not here, if that’s what’s worrying you. He’s gone to Decatur to set up a gospel meeting with the church over there.”

Seth glanced past Felicity. Missy, all summer-tan brown in khaki walking shorts and a sleeveless red blouse, set a tray of sandwiches and iced tea down on the patio table. His gaze met hers. She smiled, then waved and motioned him to come on over.

“You like her, don’t you?” Felicity asked.

When he didn’t reply, she socked him in the arm. “What’d you do that for?” he asked.

“She’s nearly eighteen, you know, and you’re only fifteen. She’s not going to date a guy younger than she is.”

“I’ll be sixteen soon,” Seth said. “In August.”

“You don’t even have a car,” Felicity reminded him. “Besides that, your grandparents won’t let you date.”

“What makes you think—?”

“Just how many dates have you had, not counting being Shannon Moore’s Homecoming Court escort?”

“I’ll be dating when I turn sixteen, and I’m going to get a car, too. That’s one of the reasons I’m doing yard work this summer.”

The gate that led from the back yard to the front swung open, and Charity stood there for a couple of minutes staring at Seth and Felicity.

“What are you looking at?” Felicity snapped at her sister.

“Sorry, I—I wasn’t expecting to see Seth here today,” Charity said.

“Yoo-hoo!” Missy called out and waved. “Come on, y’all, let’s eat.”

Within minutes the four of them sat around the patio table munching on ham sandwiches, chips and pickles and sipping on ice-cold sweet tea.

“Thanks for inviting us to lunch today,” Charity said. “Mom’s working at Treasures all day, and I dreaded having lunch with Grandma. I guess I shouldn’t say such a thing, but—”

“But she’s a weird old lady who scolds us all the time and reminds us to be good girls and watch out for all the evil in the world, especially evil men.” Felicity laughed.

With his gaze glued to Missy, Seth noted an odd expression cross her face. Just a flicker, there and gone in a second. Then he glanced at Felicity and couldn’t help comparing the two girls. Missy was prettier in a wholesome sort of way. She wore very little makeup and dressed in what his granddad would call a demure, ladylike manner. Of course, with her being a Church of Christ preacher’s daughter, she had been taught to walk the straight and narrow. On the other hand, Felicity, too, was a minister’s daughter, but for some reason her parents let her get away with murder. If she’d take off some of that makeup, remove her violet contact lenses and quit dying her hair jet black, Felicity would be a cute girl.

“How was your first morning at Bright Side?” Missy asked Charity. “Is it weird to be around all those people with mental handicaps?”

“I’m working in Mrs. Maxwell’s office. She’s a very nice person. I’m answering the phone and filing stuff and entering information in the computer. I won’t actually be around the students all that much. My first morning there has been great, except—” She quieted abruptly.

“Except what?” Felicity asked as she finished off her second sandwich.

“Nothing. I shouldn’t say anything about it.” Charity lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her tea.

“You have to tell us now,” Felicity said. “Whatever it is, we can keep a secret, can’t we, guys?” She looked from Missy to Seth and then back to her sister. “Come on, spill it.”

“I really shouldn’t, but…well…Mrs. Maxwell,” Charity cleared her throat. “She told me to call her Kim.”

“Good God, stop hem-hawing around.” Felicity rolled her eyes in aggravation.

“Kim’s father came by to see her this morning, and I couldn’t help overhearing part of their conversation. They were talking pretty loud,” Charity said. “Her father is a Presbyterian minister over in Decatur, and his wife is sick. From what I could make out, he doesn’t want to take care of her himself, so Kim recommended one of her students to come live with Reverend Kelley and take care of his wife.”

Felicity groaned. “Is that it? That’s boring news. I thought you knew some deep, dark secret. Maybe something scandalous.”

“It is scandalous when a man doesn’t want to take care of his sick wife, don’t you think?” Missy said. “If he really loved her…”

“The way your dad loved and took care of your mom when she was sick,” Charity said.

When Missy didn’t respond to Charity’s comment, Felicity grabbed the bag of potato chips and shook out a tall stack onto her plate. “So were they arguing, Mrs. Maxwell and her father?”

“Yes, I think so.” Charity shook her head. “I only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, but I think they were arguing about the best way to take care of Kim’s mother. My guess is that Reverend Kelley wants to put her away somewhere so he doesn’t have to be bothered with her.”

Felicity faked several yawns as she patted her hand over her mouth. “Boring stuff. Let’s talk about something more interesting.”

Frowning, Charity gave her sister a condemning glare.

To break the tension in the air, Missy asked, “Are y’all going to the youth rally Reverend Floyd is hosting tomorrow night? Just about everybody from school is going.”

“A youth rally,” Felicity whined. “Jesus, Missy, you’re as boring as Charity. You two really need to get a life.”

“I’m going,” Seth said. “To the rally. Granddad isn’t much into my visiting other churches, but since this is being held at the community center and it’s not any kind of church service, he’s okay with my going.”

Missy smiled at Seth, and suddenly everyone else disappeared. They were the only two people in the world. “I’m going, too. Would you like to ride with me? Dad’s letting me take my car.”

“Hey, if you two are going, count me in,” Felicity said. “Pick me up, too, okay?”

Seth wanted to tell Felicity that she hadn’t been invited to go with them, but he’d been taught not to be rude. Besides, before he had a chance to do more than process the fact that Felicity had just blown his big chance to be alone with Missy, Missy said, “Of course. All of you can ride with me. We’ll make a night of it. You know the youth rally lasts until eight o’clock Saturday morning.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” Felicity looked right at Seth. “We could slip off in the night and have some real fun.”

Jack’s phone rang just as he unlocked the patrol car. He glanced at the caller ID and grinned.

“Yes, he showed up, in person. He’s quite a know-it-all,” Jack said. “A man with a great deal of information and some interesting theories, but unfortunately nothing that pinpoints our killer.”

Maleah laughed. “You didn’t like him.”

“Do not project your feelings onto me. You don’t like him. I found Derek Lawrence to be intelligent, articulate and intuitive.”

“You didn’t like him,” she repeated.

“I’m withholding judgment until I know him better.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Mr. Lawrence has decided to stay in Dunmore for a while. Our Fire and Brimstone Killer fascinates him.”

Maleah groaned. “I’m sorry, but you did ask for his help. I had no idea he’d do anything more than send you his report. Just remember that if he steps on any toes and pisses off the wrong people, I was just the go-between, at your request.”

“I promise I won’t shoot the messenger,” Jack assured her.

“Are you at work or…?”

“Heading out for lunch. I’m meeting the contractor, a guy named Clay Yarbrough. Mike recommended him. He added on a sunroom and a deck at Mike’s place.”

“Clay Yarbrough. The name doesn’t sound familiar. He must not be from Dunmore originally.”

“He’s originally from Athens,” Jack said.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually going to restore the old place and live there. A year ago, I’d have bet good money that you’d never ever even spend a night there.”

“A lot has changed in a year.”

“Is Cathy Nelson…uh, Cathy Cantrell still…?”

“Yes. She’s going to work with us on this project. As a matter of fact, she’s meeting us for lunch.”

“Would I be nosy if I asked…?”

“Yes, you would.”

“Well, I’m going to ask anyway. After all, I am your sister, and that gives me certain rights.”

“That works both ways, you know,” Jack told her.

“Yes, I guess it does.”

“I’ll answer your questions about Cathy if you answer a couple of questions about why you dislike Derek Lawrence so much.”

“I’d think that after your meeting him, that would be obvious. He’s a smug, conceited, know-it-all jerk.”

“Hmm…”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if he did something to hurt you, as your big brother, then I’ll have to beat the crap out of him.” Jack barely managed not to chuckle.

“Oh, good God, you think…That’s ridiculous…We never…I never,” she sputtered. “Believe me, I’m not his type, no more than he’s mine.”

“So, baby sister, just what is your type?”

“Nice, sweet, boy next door. Good job, but not rich. Intelligent, but not a genius. Someone who respects my opinions as much as I respect his.”

“In other words, everything that Derek Lawrence is not.”

Maleah groaned. “My turn to ask you about Cathy. Are you going to ask her out on a real date?”

“Maybe. Yeah, I think I probably am.”

“Take it slow and easy, okay? One step at a time. She broke your heart once. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

“You were just a kid when I was involved with Cathy. How do you know she broke my heart?”

“After they shipped you back home and you were in the hospital, full of pain medication, you talked about her,” Maleah said.

“Oh.”

“I love you, you know.”

Jack heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Have a nice lunch. And remember to take some photos while the remodeling is going on and send them to me. If you change the place enough where it looks completely different inside and out, I might actually come for a visit.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

When they said good-bye and Jack slipped his phone onto the belt clip, he tried not to think about the reasons Maleah hated their childhood home so much. As far as he knew, after he’d left to join the army, Nolan had never laid a hand on her again. He had warned his stepfather that he’d kill him if he ever touched Maleah. But she had lived in that house of horrors for nearly five years after he left, until she’d gone away to college. Even if Nolan hadn’t abused her physically, Jack suspected the psychological abuse had been bad enough. Sometimes, he still felt guilty about leaving her there, but if he hadn’t gotten away when he did, he would have wound up killing his stepfather.

Bruce Kelley folded his hands together and pressed them against his forehead. “Dear God, help me.”

He hadn’t wanted to sedate Sandie, but he’d had little choice. This morning’s episode had been the worst she’d ever had. Although she had known who he was, he had been unable to convince her that their three children were now adults and living on their own. She had searched the house in a frenzy of fear and uncertainty, looking for Kim, Kira and Kevin.

“Someone has kidnapped my babies,” she had told him, genuine terror in her eyes. “We have to call the police. Do you hear me, Bruce? Do something. Do something now!”

When he had tried to comfort her, she had balled her hands into tight fists and pummeled his chest repeatedly. And when he had tried to restrain her, she had fought him like a madwoman. He had begged and pleaded, doing his best to calm her without physically hurting her. But she had broken away from him and run out the front door and into the yard, screaming at the top of her lungs. Neighbors had come out of their houses, and when two of the ladies, Glenda Pittman and Judy Calhoun, realized what was happening, they had rushed over to help. But Sandie hadn’t recognized the women, even though both had lived on either side of them for a good many years.

“She needs to be sedated,” Glenda, a pediatric nurse, had told him. “Do you have anything?”

He had nodded. “Some pills the doctor gave us, but—”

“Get them. Judy and I will stay here with her. If we can’t get her to take the tablets, we’ll have to call 911.”

When he had returned with the medication, Sandie had appeared calmer and even agreed to take a couple of the pills. But the moment he’d placed the medication in her mouth, she’d bitten his fingers.

Bruce unfolded his clasped hands and looked at the bandage Glenda had taped over his right index finger after she had stopped the bleeding and cleaned it with an antiseptic.

“She’s sleeping.” Judy Calhoun stood in the doorway of his study. “Glenda said to tell you that she’ll sit with her for a while longer.” She gazed at him sympathetically. “Why don’t you come over to the house and eat lunch with Bob and me?”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I could eat a bite.”

“You need help, someone who can live in and look after Sandie.”

“Yes, I know. Kim is bringing a young woman to Sunday dinner. The girl is one of her students. She’s a bit slow, but she’s strong and healthy, and Kim assures me that she’s very kind.” Tears sprang into his eyes. He turned his head and cleared his throat.

Judy walked into the room, came over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you call Kim and see if this young woman can start work today?”

Bruce squeezed his eyes tightly as he accepted the painful reality of their situation. He nodded, but didn’t look at Judy. He didn’t want to face her with tears in his eyes.

She patted his shoulder. “If you need us, call us. Bob and I will do anything we can. You know we think the world of you and Sandie.”

He swallowed hard, gulping down the tears tightening his throat. Several minutes later, alone in his study, Bruce rose to his feet and walked over to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed his elder daughter’s work number.

It is my duty to search for and find the unworthy, those who profess to be servants of the Lord, who pass themselves off as good shepherds but are sinners of the worst kind. I have heard rumors about certain people, but I cannot punish someone unless I am certain of their evil ways.

People say that Reverend Dewan Phillips is a good man, but he is a proud, boastful man. He likes to talk to hear his own voice, and although he sings the Lord’s praises, he often takes credit for himself instead of giving credit to God. I must keep an eye on him.
When You give me a sign that he is a sinner in need of chastisement, I will obey Your command.

And most people believe Patsy Floyd is above reproach, that as the first female minister in Dunmore, she should be admired for achieving equality for women in her church. But there are a few people who don’t like her. I’ve heard some say that she does not conduct herself in a humble and pious manner, that she wears expensive clothes and jewelry and flaunts her wealth.
Has she displeased You, God? If I find all the accusations against her to be true, I will mark her name in my book, and she will be punished.

And the rumors about the minister at the Presbyterian Church in Decatur cannot be ignored. If Bruce Kelley has hardened his heart and is shirking his duties as a husband, he must be dealt with severely. There is no more grievous sin than one committed against a member of one’s own family. A husband who abuses or abandons his wife, a father who abuses or abandons his child, a son who neglects or mistreats his parents.

Not my will, O Lord but Thine be done. I know that You have chosen me to carry out Your will, that my suffering proves my worthiness, that I am special in Thine eyes. I am the Angel of Vengeance, the Destroyer of Evil, the Executioner of the Unworthy.

Jack didn’t like the way that Clay Yarbrough was flirting with Cathy. He wished she would stop smiling at Clay. And why did she have to laugh at all his silly comments? Jack didn’t think he was all that amusing.

“I sure didn’t mean any disrespect to your late husband when I told you about my old man,” Clay said, grinning like an idiot as he stared into Cathy’s eyes. “But my father, God rest his sorry soul, was a mean old son of a bitch, preacher or no preacher.”

Jack cleared his throat. Cathy and Clay looked at him. He tapped his wristwatch.

“I have to return to work in less than fifteen minutes,” Jack said. “We need to get back on track here.”

“Sorry about that.” Clay bestowed his wide smile first on Cathy and then on Jack. “I tend to talk too much instead of listening, but I wanted Mrs. Cantrell to know how sorry I am about what happened to her husband. And whenever preachers come up in the conversation, I naturally think about my dad.”

“You mentioned before we ate lunch that you think it would be a good idea for me to hire an architect to draw up plans for the renovations I want.” Jack glanced at Cathy. “Do you think you could draw up the plans? It would save me the added expense of hiring an architect.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I could,” Cathy replied, a touch of surprise in her voice. “The plans wouldn’t be the same as a professional architect would do, but…” She paused and smiled at Jack. “I can’t believe that you remembered I wanted to be an architect.”

“I remembered the plans you showed me for your dream house,” Jack said. “If I recall correctly, the house was a modern version of a Victorian, with gingerbread trim, a turret and a porch gazebo.”

“I don’t have a problem with Mrs. Cantrell drawing up the plans,” Clay said. “They don’t have to be professional quality. I’ve had clients who drew up their own plans, and somehow, someway, I managed to give them what they wanted.”

“Actually, I took some night classes at the junior college right after Lorie and I opened up Treasures of the Past.” Cathy didn’t even glance at Clay; her gaze focused directly on Jack. “If you’ll tell me exactly what you want, I’ll do my best to transfer that into something resembling what an architect would produce for you.”

“Sounds great,” Clay said. “And I’d be more than happy to help you out. Sometimes I have to sketch out things for a client myself, and if you need any tools of the trade, I’m sure I can round ’em up for you. What say we have dinner tonight and—”

“The lady already has dinner plans.” The words were out of Jack’s mouth before he realized that Cathy might object to his high-handed manner. He looked at her pleadingly. “That is…”

“Jack’s right,” Cathy said as she turned to Clay. “I’m having dinner with my son tonight. I appreciate the offer to loan me your supplies, but I have my own, everything from trimmers and drafting templates to a sketch board and parallel rulers and gliders.”

“Well, another night then,” Clay said. “Maybe you and your son would like to go over to Huntsville for dinner and a movie. How old is your boy?”

“Seth’s fifteen. But, you see, I haven’t started dating.” She cut a quick glance Jack’s way. “Not officially.”

“If we take your boy along with us, it won’t exactly be a date, but I tell you what—consider it an open invitation. When you do start dating, just let me know.”

Clay slid back his chair and stood. He grinned at Cathy, and then offered Jack his hand. Jack stood.

“I’m ready to start when you are,” Clay said. “I’ll get an inspector out there on Monday to see where we need to start on structural repairs. And as soon as I get Mrs. Cantrell’s plans, I’ll have the carpenters go right to work.”

Jack shook Clay’s hand and walked him halfway to the restaurant’s front entrance. He wanted to tell the man to stay away from Cathy, to back off and leave her alone. But he thought better of the idea, sensing that she would resent him running interference for her. She’d made it clear that she was in charge of her own life.

When he got back to the table, Cathy didn’t question him about his attitude toward Clay; instead, she smiled warmly, a look of excitement in her blue-green eyes.

“Thank you for allowing me to draw up the plans for remodeling your house. I haven’t been this excited about a project in I don’t know when. Never, actually.” She laughed.

He liked the sound of her laughter. “I’m glad you’re excited about it.”

“I’ll need your input as soon as possible, but since both of us have to go back to work right away and I’m having dinner with Seth and his grandparents tonight, maybe you could drop by my house tomorrow evening and we can discuss everything then. Tomorrow morning the movers are bringing my furniture out of storage to the house I’m renting, but by tomorrow evening, I’ll need a break. Of course, if you have other plans…”