Silent Killer (18 page)

“Afternoon, Deputy,” Mike Birkett said. “Is the blackberry cobbler good today?”

Jack scooted back his chair, stood and shook hands with his boss.

“Mama, you remember Jackson Perdue, don’t you?” Mike said to the plump, silver-haired woman standing to his right.

“Sure do. How are you, Jack?” Nell Birkett smiled at him, and then she glanced past him at Lorie. Her smile vanished.

“Hello, Mrs. Birkett,” Lorie said.

Nell hesitated before replying. “Hello, Lorie.”

A rambunctious little boy with freckles and a stock of thick auburn hair tugged on his father’s hand, and a shy, slender girl who was Mike’s spitting image, dark hair, eyes and complexion, peeped out from where she stood behind him.

“Kids, I’d like y’all to meet Mr. Perdue.” Mike pulled both kids in front of him. “This is M.J.”—he ruffled his son’s hair—“and this is Hannah.”

“Hi.” M.J. grinned.

“Hello, Mr. Perdue.” Hannah smiled at Jack, and then glanced past him to Lorie. “Oh, hello, Miss Lorie.”

Seeing Lorie, M.J. ran over to her. “You look mighty pretty today.”

“Thank you, M.J.” Lorie smiled at the boy and then glanced up at Mike.

“You two go on with your grandmother over to our table,” Mike said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“But Daddy, we want to introduce you to Miss Lorie,” Hannah said.

“Miss Lorie and I have been introduced.” Mike bit out the words through partially clenched teeth. “Now go order dinner. I’ll be right on over.”

Nell grabbed both children’s hands and hurried them away, but not before she glanced at Lorie, a rather sad look in her eyes.

“How is it that my kids know you?” Mike demanded, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Jack started to intervene, but thought better of it. Lorie wouldn’t thank him for coming to her rescue. He sat back down, picked up his spoon and dipped into his cobbler.

“I’ve seen them at the interfaith socials a few times. Patsy Floyd has become a good friend, and she talked me into coming along with her to the monthly get-togethers.”

“From now on, stay away from my kids.”

“Why? You don’t honestly think that my wickedness”—she held up her hands and shook them in a boogie-boo gesture—“will rub off on them, do you?”

Mike leaned down so that they were face-to-face and said in a calm yet harsh voice, “If you’re using my kids to get back into my life, forget it. I’m not interested, and I never will be.”

He turned and stomped off, leaving Lorie sitting there quietly, her face ashen and a sheen of moisture in her eyes.

“Are you all right?” Jack asked.

She nodded.

“Want to leave?”

She swallowed. “No. Finish your dessert.”

“Mike was pretty rough on you. It’s not like him to—”

“I hurt him something awful,” she said. “Not just when I broke our engagement and went off to Hollywood thinking I’d become a big star, but…” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, then looked up at Jack. “Mike’s seen the spread I did for
Playboy
and that one porn movie I made, and he knows that three-fourths of the men in Dunmore have seen them, too. That’s not something a man can forget or forgive.”

Jack didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that given time, Mike would come around, that he would at least forgive her. But how could he tell her something he didn’t believe? He had no idea how he’d feel if he were in Mike’s place. He had to admit that in many ways modern man was as savage as his ancient counterpart and lived by the same double standard that his male ancestors had.

Erin McKinley always came away from the Sunday morning service feeling uplifted and inspired by John Earl’s sermon. He possessed the unique ability to charm and to condemn, practically in the same breath. He taught the Word of God with enthusiasm, but with compassion and genuine understanding of human nature. Of all the ministers she had known during her life, even the ones she had loved with her whole heart, none of them compared to John Earl Harper. He was, without a doubt, her one true love. Unfortunately, he was completely in love with his wife.

Erin’s first lover had been the youth minister at the Baptist church she attended as a teenager. She’d been fifteen and he twenty-five. When she had gotten pregnant, her lover had suddenly disappeared, supposedly going overseas somewhere on mission work. She had planned to give her child up for adoption but had miscarried in her fourth month.

At twenty-three, she had taken a job as the secretary for a large church in Athens. The minister had been a handsome, charming, silver-haired devil, and she’d fallen madly in love with him. Reverend Lester Yarbrough had been good to her, treating her with the utmost respect, and never once made any advances. But when his wife of twenty years and one of the church’s deacons ran away together, she had seen her chance and taken it. Her affair with Lester had lasted six months, until his teenage son, Clay, had walked in on them while she was giving Lester a blow job.

There had been a few others, but none that she’d loved with all her heart. A couple of ministers, one church elder, two deacons and one church musical director. But now her heart belonged solely to John Earl—her heart but not her body. She would lie down and die for him. She would become his secret mistress. She would do anything he asked of her. But he saw her only as his secretary, only as one of his parishioners, only as a family friend.

Erin parked her Honda Civic in front of her duplex apartment, got out and rummaged in her shoulder bag for her house key. When she reached the front door, she noticed that it stood partially ajar. The door had not been jimmied, and the glass panes had not been broken. That meant only one thing—someone had unlocked the door. Only she and one other person had a key.

Smiling with anticipation, Erin eased open the door and walked into her apartment. After closing and locking the door, she tossed her purse onto the sofa as she made her way toward the bedroom. Lying there buck naked in the middle of her bed, Clay Yarbrough grinned at her as she stood over him, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What does it look like?” He thrust his hips up to show off his erection. “I figured after getting all hot and bothered over Reverend Harper at church this morning, you might need a good fucking. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s playing substitute stud for Baptist preachers.”

Without saying another word, Erin kicked off her shoes, unzipped her dress, removed it and tossed it on the floor. After easing off her pantyhose and stripping out of her bikini panties and bra, she crawled onto the bed and straddled Clay.

Gazing down into his rugged face, she said, “I’m actually very fond of you, you know.”

Clay laughed. “Honey, you’re fond of this.” He grabbed his penis and rubbed it up and down between her feminine lips. “And I don’t mind your calling me Lester or John Earl or whoever happens to be the minister of the month, just as long as I’m the guy who’s screwing your brains out.”

“Shut up, darling.” She gently clutched his penis and inserted it into her body, then slid down over it, taking him completely inside her. “Make love to me.” She closed her eyes and sighed.
Make love to me, John Earl. John Earl…

“It would be my pleasure, my sweet Erin.” He grasped her hips in his rough hands and set the rhythm for their frenzied mating. “Fuck me, baby. Come on. Give your John Earl a good fucking.”

She went wild, clawing and scratching, moaning and screaming until she climaxed. While she melted around him, he flipped her over on her back and lunged deeper and harder until he came.

Ten minutes later, Clay was gone. He had dumped his condom in the bathroom wastepaper basket, washed, put on his clothes, kissed her on the forehead and left.

Erin lay there, naked, her body slightly bruised and completely sated in a physical way. But emotionally, she felt empty. For a few glorious minutes, she had been able to pretend the man giving her pleasure was John Earl, just as, years ago, after Clay’s father had ended their affair, she had been able to pretend the seventeen-year-old Clay had been Lester.

She was alone, so alone. When she loved, she loved completely. She gave her all and got so little in return. As much as she had loved the men in her life, she had also hated them.

Why couldn’t John Earl look at her just once and see her for who she was? His soul mate. The woman meant to be his wife.

No, she wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t without sin. But then neither was he. For all his goodness, John Earl was as human as all clergymen were. He made mistakes. He sinned. And he, like all others, would one day be rewarded for his goodness and punished for his sins.

Erin curled into a fetal ball and wept.

Seth had left Sunday night services with his grandparents, and Missy had gone home with a girlfriend, the daughter of a church deacon, for a sleepover. Since Cathy had spent the day with Donnie, Missy and Seth, she didn’t have a way home tonight and had gladly accepted Donnie’s offer to escort her. Otherwise she would have been forced to either walk or allow her mother to drive her home.

The day that had begun so badly had actually ended on a positive note. A couple of hours before Sunday night services, Donnie had persuaded Cathy to go with him to talk to J.B. and Mona. She had agreed reluctantly, but much to her surprise, the visit had gone much better than she had anticipated.

“I believe you’re a miracle worker,” Cathy told Donnie.

When he smiled, shallow dimples appeared in his round cheeks. He was an attractive man in a cute, boyish way. He was one of those people who would look the same at sixty as he had at six, simply older. But what his face lacked in strength and maturity, it made up for in a gentle attractiveness.

Donnie turned to her there in the semidarkness inside his car and smiled. “You give me too much credit. All I did was intervene between the two of you. I reminded Brother Cantrell that in his zeal to protect Seth, he cannot forget that you are Seth’s mother and you love him.”

“And you reminded me that even if I disagree with J.B., which I do, that I owe him and Mona a debt of gratitude for taking good care of Seth while I was ill.”

Donnie spread his arm across the back of Cathy’s seat and leaned toward her, his gaze connecting with hers. “We made progress this afternoon when we stopped by the Cantrells. You showed Seth that you’re willing to meet his grandfather halfway, that you and J.B. don’t have to be enemies.”

“I hate the thought of making Seth choose between his grandparents and me,” Cathy said. “But I felt that J.B. was giving me no choice but to take them to court to regain custody.”

“And now?”

“Now, thanks to you, I’m willing to wait a little while longer in the hopes that J.B. will see reason and I won’t have to take drastic measures.”

“It could take weeks, even months,” Donnie told her. “You must be patient. I’ll talk to J.B. again.”

“In the meantime, I want Seth to be able to spend the night at my home whenever he wants to while we’re trying to settle this problem out of court.”

“Why don’t you let me continue talking to J.B.? I can suggest that he allow Seth to join you and Missy and me for dinner and a movie this Friday night. And if he’s in agreement, I’ll see if he’ll consider allowing Seth to spend the night with you.”

Cathy’s heart soared with hope. This morning, she had been certain that she had no other alternative than to take her in-laws to court. But tonight, she thought there was a possibility that J.B. might eventually see reason. She was willing to wait, just not forever. Seth had all but said that he had changed his mind and wanted to live with her, but he’d been adamant about not wanting to hurt his grandparents.

“I’m all Nana and Granddad have now that Dad’s gone,” Seth had said.

“You’re all I have, too,” she’d reminded him.

“I know, Mom, but you’re young, and you’ll probably get married again and have more kids.”

Surprised by his comment, she had questioned his reasoning. She knew, before he confirmed her suspicions, that he had simply repeated exactly what J.B. had said about her.

Donnie cleared his throat, which immediately drew her back into the present moment. She smiled at him. He looked at her longingly, as if he wanted to kiss her. All she had to do was respond. But did she want him to kiss her? She was sure the experience would be pleasant, but in all honesty, she wasn’t attracted to him in a sexual, man-woman way. How could she tell him without hurting his feelings, which she would never do, not for anything in the world. If he kissed her…

Suddenly he moved back and away from her. He cleared his throat again. “I should walk you to your door and then go home. I need a good night’s rest tonight. I’m working all day tomorrow at the community food bank, from seven in the morning until six in the evening.”

“I appreciate the ride home, but you don’t have to walk me to the door.”

“Of course I do. What kind of Southern gentleman would I be if I didn’t escort you safely to your front door?”

They both laughed.

By the time Cathy opened the car door and stepped out onto the driveway, Donnie was there with his hand extended. She took his soft hand and smiled when he clasped hers tenderly.

There was something about Donnie that reminded her of Mark. Not so much his physical appearance as his demeanor. He seemed to possess a similar easygoing charm and sweet gentleness. And he was a minister of the gospel, a man dedicating his life to helping others. If she were dating Donnie, her in-laws and mother would approve. But if she encouraged a relationship with him, it would be for all the wrong reasons.

He waited with her on the porch while she unlocked the front door. Then, when she eased open the door, she turned to him. “Would you like to come in for some decaf or a glass of iced tea?”

He smiled. “Not tonight, Cathy. Perhaps another time.”

“Certainly.” She kissed his cheek, a simple act of gratitude. “Thank you for trying to help me with J.B. and Mona.”

His round face flushed a light pink. “I’ll continue doing all I can to help you and Seth and the Cantrells.”

Cathy stood in the open doorway and watched Donnie until he got in his SUV. Then she went inside and closed and locked the door. She felt a sense of hope wash over her. A day that had started off with a trip to the sheriff’s office was ending peacefully. Thanks to Brother Donnie Hovater, she felt that it might be possible not only to reclaim her rights as Seth’s mother without involving lawyers, but to salvage her relationship with her in-laws.

In all the years they’d been together, Bruce Kelley had never lied to his wife. But today, not only had he lied to her, so had their three children. However, the deception had been for her own good. If they had told her Mirabelle Rutledge would be living with them as her companion and jailer, Sandie would have protested. She wouldn’t have understood. In her lucid moments, she tried to deny her illness. And in her incompetent moments, she was incapable of understanding.

“I met Mirabelle when I visited Bright Side recently, and I really liked her,” Kira had said shortly before Kim and Mirabelle arrived. “She’s such a dear, sweet person. I think you’ll just love her.”

“This arrangement will be good for you and Dad and for Mirabelle,” Kevin had told his mother. “She needs a home and—”

“Of course we’ll give the poor child a home,” Sandie had said without hesitation. “Your father and I have worked with foster children in the past, so this won’t be very different, except that Mirabelle is a grown woman with a child’s mind.”

“Actually, she’s quiet intelligent,” Bruce had said. “I believe she’s simply a little slow.” He had reached over and squeezed Sandie’s hand. “She’ll want to stay with you all the time, you know, the way a child would with her mother.”

Sandie had smiled. “And I’ll do my very best to be a mother figure for her.”

Later in the afternoon, before Kim left, she had reinforced his earlier comments. “Mirabelle will want to stay right with you whenever Dad’s not around. She doesn’t like to be alone.”

As Bruce looked down on a sleeping Sandie, her lovely face peaceful, her slender body covered only by a sheet and lightweight blanket, he swallowed his tears. An hour before bedtime, she had become disoriented and for a few moments hadn’t known where she was. As happened occasionally, this evening her mind had wandered back to a time in her own childhood, and oddly enough she had thought Mirabelle was her mother.

The sweet, gentle young woman had helped him with his wife, taking over with an ease that surprised him. She had aided Sandie with as much patience and tender care as a mother would have taken with her own child. And when Mirabellele tucked Sandie into bed and kissed her on the forehead, Bruce had known that bringing this girl into their home had been the right decision. Indeed, it seemed to be a blessing.

“I will stay here,” Mirabelle told him. “You mustn’t worry, Mr. Bruce. I won’t leave her. I will sleep beside her. It’s all right that she doesn’t know who I am. She’s happy because she thinks I’m her mother.”

He patted Mirabelle on the shoulder. “Yes, she did go to sleep happy, didn’t she. I’ll be in the guest room across the hall. If she wakes in the night or if you should need me…”

“I’ll come and get you, Mr. Bruce.”

He gazed into the girl’s warm brown eyes and saw beyond the slow mind and into the loving heart. Abruptly, he turned and walked out of the bedroom just as the tears he could no longer control trickled down his cheeks.

The room is dark and quiet. Lying on my back staring up at the ceiling, I see only a glimmer of moonlight creeping through the closed blinds. I feel as if I’m floating on a peaceful black sea. Safe in God’s hands. Nothing bad can happen to me. No one can hurt me. I am surrounded by a cloak of holy protection.

What is that tune humming inside my head? Oh, yes, it’s a beautiful hymn that I learned as a child. My earliest memories are of being at church, inside the blessed sanctuary for the righteous, each service a haven for God’s true children.

That’s what I am—one of God’s true children. I am not like so many who profess to be brothers and sisters of Christ and yet prove themselves unworthy of the name Christian.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” The words of Psalm Twenty-seven echo inside my heart. “When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell.”

With my eyes closed against the ugliness of the world, I am so blessed to be able to recall the Holy Scripture. King David’s psalms are some of my favorite passages from the Old Testament. “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty.”

The world is filled with evil and cruelty, with those who profess to love the Lord and do His work. But some are false prophets. Those are the ones God commands me to punish.

I’m listening, Lord. I know who You have chosen next to receive Thy swift and harsh punishment. Give me the time and day of his death, and I will do Thy bidding. I am Your humble servant, Your avenging angel of death.

Knowing she had a busy day tomorrow, even with Treasures closed, Cathy took a shower and prepared for bed earlier than usual. She and Lorie were in charge of the Lansdell Estate sale, which was scheduled for two weeks from yesterday. They would have to begin clearing the junk from the old house and preparing the furniture and the saleable contents to be displayed and priced. As she towel-dried her hair, she debated whether to use the blow-dryer or simply let it dry naturally overnight. After hanging the towel across the shower curtain rack and running a comb through her wavy, damp strands, she put on her floor-length cotton gown and padded barefoot into the bedroom.

The sound of the doorbell at—she glanced at the bedside clock—nine-thirty on Sunday night surprised her. She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. By the time she’d found her house slippers and lightweight cotton robe, her visitor had rung the doorbell again.

She rushed down the hall, through the living room and to the front door. When she peered through the viewfinder, she sucked in a deep breath. What was Jack doing on her doorstep at this time of night?

Without hesitation, she unlocked and opened the door. He stood there with a peculiar expression on his face.

He looked her over from head to toe. “Were you already in bed? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” she replied. “It’s been a long, tiring day, which started pretty early this morning, and I have a busy day tomorrow, so I thought I’d try for an early bedtime tonight.”

“I guess I should have called first.”

“It’s all right.” When he kept staring at her so oddly, she asked, “Is something wrong?”

He glanced from side to side. “Mind if I come in? I’d rather not include your neighbors in our conversation.”

“Oh, of course.” She stepped aside to allow him entrance. “Please come in.”

After he entered, she closed the door and turned to face him. He was close. Too close. Only inches separated their bodies. Jack was a good nine inches taller than her height of five-five, and the lanky young guy she’d fallen in love with years ago was now broader and more muscular but equally lean and fit. She stared up into his blue eyes, eyes she had never been able to forget. A shiver of pure sexual awareness rippled along every nerve in her body.

Jackson Perdue was the only man who’d ever been able to light up her insides like a glowing Christmas tree by doing nothing more than looking at her. No matter what else had changed in her life and in their relationship, that one fact remained the same.

His gaze devoured her. “Cathy…”

The way he looked at her and the way he said her name brought back memories of a time in her life she had tried to put behind her.

She couldn’t allow her traitorous body to dictate her actions. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t! She wasn’t ready.

Easing away from him, putting some safe distance between their bodies, she took several steps into the living room. “Please come in and sit down. I’ll get us some iced tea.”

She watched as his chest moved with the force of the deep breath he sucked in and released, and she knew that he felt the magnetic force vibrating between them as intensely as she did.

“No iced tea for me,” he said as he followed her.

She indicated the sofa. He sat down first, and then she sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Why are you here, Jack?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted as he rubbed his open palms up and down his thighs. “I guess I thought maybe you’d call me and tell me how things went today, you know, with you and Seth and—”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you expected me to call you.”