Silent Killer (29 page)

“She needs someone who understands what she’s been through.” Cathy’s gaze locked with Ruth Ann’s. She saw the realization in the other woman’s eyes.

“How did you know about me?” Ruth Ann asked.

“Know about…?”

“Don’t pretend with me, please. When you called me, I suspected you knew something, and just now, when you said what you did about Missy needing someone who understands what she’s been through, I knew for sure.”

“I don’t know anything about your past,” Cathy said. “It was Lorie. She picked up on some things you said a few years ago, and…well, she told me that you’d taken a special interest in the Whitmore girl’s rape case.”

“And here I thought I hid my feelings so well that no one would ever suspect anything.”

“Look, Ruth Ann, whatever did or didn’t happen to you is none of my business. I neither want nor need to know. The only reason I called you is because I hoped you could help Missy.”

“A long time ago, someone helped me,” Ruth Ann said. “I guess it’s past time for me to do the same. I’ll talk to Missy and do whatever I can to help her.”

Cathy grasped Ruth Ann’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Would you take me to her?”

“Come on. Her room is just down the hall.”

When they entered Missy’s room, they found her awake and restless, her slender young body curled into a trembling fetal ball.

“I thought you’d left and weren’t coming back.” Missy held out her hand to Cathy, who rushed forward and took the girl’s unsteady hand.

“There’s someone here to see you,” Cathy said.

“I don’t want to see anyone.” Missy looked at her visitor and turned away. “No, please, no.”

“What happened to you was not your fault,” Ruth Ann said in a soft voice as she approached Missy’s bed. “You’re not to blame. Do you hear me?”

“I am. He told me I wanted him to do what he did. He told me that I tempted him.”

Ruth Ann and Cathy exchanged glances, both of them consumed with sympathy for the abused child. And that’s what Missy was, just a girl of seventeen, close to the same age as their own children.

Missy cried quietly, her entire body shaking with the force of her almost-silent sobs.

Ruth Ann paused beside the bed. “What your father did to you was not your fault. He was sick, and what he did to you was wrong. Believe me, I understand how you feel.”

“How could you possibly understand?” Missy asked, her voice quavering with emotion.

Ruth Ann laid her hand gently on Missy’s back. “Because when I was a young girl, my father raped me repeatedly, from the time I was ten years old until the night he died.”

Both Cathy and Ruth Ann accompanied Missy Hovater when she was taken to the sheriff’s office for questioning on Monday following Donnie Hovater’s death late Saturday night. The authorities had been unable to find a close relative. It seemed that Donnie Hovater had been an only child and his parents were deceased. Missy’s mother had been raised in a series of foster homes and had never known either of her parents. For all intents and purposes, Missy Hovater was alone in the world. ABI agent and head of the Fire and Brimstone Killer task force Wayne Morgan looked as if he’d rather eat glass than have to interrogate a young girl who had been brutalized by her father’s sick cruelty.

Camden Hendrix had shown up at the hospital yesterday afternoon, but Missy had been completely uncooperative. The only people she would talk to were Cathy and Ruth Ann, so they had acted as go-betweens for Missy’s lawyer. Cathy didn’t know what she had expected Cam Hendrix to look like, but certainly not the big, ruggedly handsome guy whose winning personality instantly put her at ease. Elliott Floyd had sung the man’s praises, filling her in on his reputation as one of the South’s premiere attorneys.

“He came from nothing. Literally. And now he’s filthy rich and famous, or at the very least notorious.” Elliott had chuckled. “He’s one of the most sought-after trial lawyers in the country, and his firm has even branched out into international law. He’s an advisor to Griffin Powell. I assume you’ve heard of him.”

Yes, she’d heard of
the
Griffin Powell, the mysterious former University of Tennessee quarterback who had disappeared off the face of the earth shortly after college graduation. The man had shown up ten years later, a billionaire philanthropist who established the Powell Private Security and Investigation Agency, some said, as a front for his illegal businesses. But that was only one of many rumors about the wealthy mystery man.

Cathy also knew that Jack’s sister, Maleah, worked for the Powell Agency and that she had used her contacts in the agency to persuade former FBI profiler Derek Lawrence to help the Fire and Brimstone Killer task force. Free of charge.

They entered Mike Birkett’s office, she and Ruth Ann flanking Missy. The girl’s face went chalk white as soon as she saw Agent Morgan.

“Come on in, Missy.” Cam Hendrix stepped forward and pulled out a chair for his client. “Have a seat right here.” He glanced at Cathy and Ruth Ann. “Y’all sit on either side of her. I’ll stand.”

Jack, Mike, Derek Lawrence and two people Cathy had never seen before crowded into the small office, but all of them stood along the back wall, doing their best not to bring attention to themselves. Thankfully, Missy seemed oblivious to their presence.

“Miss Hovater, I intend to do this as quickly as possible,” Agent Morgan said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you about Saturday night and what you know about your father’s death.”

“About his murder,” Missy said.

“Yes, about his murder,” Morgan agreed. “Can you tell me exactly what happened that night? And please take your time.”

“Where do I start?” Missy placed her hands on the table, one hand folded over the other.

“Start wherever you’d like.”

She swallowed hard. “He came to my room, the way he always did. And he—we had sex.”

“Are you saying that your father raped you, that he forced you to have sex with him?” Cam Hendrix injected the question into the cross-examination process.

“Yes,” Missy replied.

“And this wasn’t the first time, was it?” Cam asked.

“No, my father had been raping me since I was twelve.”

“Miss Hovater, after your father left your room, what happened then?” Agent Morgan asked.

“Nothing. I just lay there for a long time.”

“Did you know when your father went outside?”

“I heard the doorbell ring.”

“What time was that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at the clock.”

“When you heard the doorbell ring, what did you do?” Agent Morgan pulled out a chair and sat across from Missy. “Did you leave your room? Did you…?”

“No, not at first.” Missy eased her hands up and off the table. “But then I heard someone screaming.” She brought her clasped hands close to her body and held them over her midsection, just below her breasts. “I got out of bed and listened. I called for my father, but he didn’t answer.”

“What did you do then?”

“I put on my gown.”

“You changed out of your…?”

“I was still naked.”

Looking downright uncomfortable, Agent Morgan continued, “After you put on your gown, what did you do then?”

“I followed the sound of the screams and realized they were coming from outside. I went out onto the porch, and that’s when I saw him.”

“Saw who?”

“My father. He was on fire,” Missy said, her voice eerily calm. “I stood there and watched while he burned.”

“You didn’t cry out for help? You didn’t rush back into the house to call 911?”

“Isn’t it obvious that Missy was in shock?” Cam Hendrix said. “She could hardly have been expected to act in a rational manner.”

“Yes, certainly. It’s a reasonable assumption,” Agent Morgan agreed. He focused directly on Missy. “Did you see anyone else?”

“Someone else? Where?”

“Did you see who doused your father with gasoline and set him on fire?”

“No, I—I didn’t see anyone else. I don’t remember seeing anybody except Daddy. He kept screaming and screaming, and then he didn’t move anymore and he stopped screaming. I wasn’t sure he was dead, but I hoped he was.”

Silence. The tense atmosphere in the room pulsed with life. No one said a word.

“Is that all for today?” Cam Hendrix asked, breaking the unnatural quiet. “Missy was just released from the hospital this morning, and as you can tell, she’s already exhausted.”

What everyone could plainly see was that Missy Hovater was sitting there staring off into space, an unnerving smile curving the corners of her mouth and a peaceful expression on her pretty face.

A ripple of uncertainty crept up Cathy’s spine.

“Yes, that’s all for now,” Agent Morgan said. “We can postpone further questioning until Miss Hovater is feeling better. Of course, you know the routine, Counselor. She’s not to leave town, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Missy will be staying with my family,” Ruth Ann said. “My husband and I are hoping to work out something with social services so that we can become her foster parents.”

Mike Birkett opened the door for Ruth Ann, who, with her arm around the girl’s shoulders, led Missy out of the office. Cathy followed them. As she passed Jack, he reached out and gently grasped Cathy’s arm. She looked at him, questioning his actions.

“We need to talk,” he told her. “Can you wait for me outside, or do you need to leave with Mrs. Harper and Missy?”

“I came in my car,” she told him. “I planned to go from here to Treasures. I’ll wait for you.”

Cathy helped Ruth Ann get Missy situated in the front seat of her Volvo before turning to Cam Hendrix. “Do you think they believed her?”

“Yes, I think they believe she didn’t set her father on fire, but they also believe that she intentionally did nothing to help him and that she’s glad he’s dead.”

“Can they charge her with a crime?” Ruth Ann asked.

He patted Ruth Ann on the back. “They could, but I don’t think they will. It’s my job to make sure they don’t, so stop worrying. You just take good care of Missy and leave the rest to me.”

Heaving a sigh, Ruth Ann shook his hand and then got in the car and drove away.

Cam Hendrix turned to Cathy. “The Harpers are taking on quite a responsibility by bringing Missy into their home. She’s going to need a great deal of therapy as well as TLC. I’ve known cases like hers before, and sometimes these young girls never recover.”

“If anyone can help Missy, John Earl and Ruth Ann Harper can.”

“May I give you a lift somewhere, Ms. Cantrell?”

“No, thank you. I have my car.”

Jack came out of the building and stood there watching her with Missy’s lawyer. He called out to her, “Ready to go get that cup of coffee, honey?” He stressed the one-word endearment.

Cathy smiled. She knew what he was doing. He was warning off Cam Hendrix, letting him know that she wasn’t available. “Be there in a minute,” she told Jack.

“Boyfriend?” Cam asked.

“Yes.”

“Lucky man.”

“He thinks so.”

Cam laughed. “Smart man.”

As soon as Cam walked off, heading toward his Mercedes in the adjacent parking lot, Cathy turned toward Jack and smiled. He came up to her, looked past her into the parking lot and grunted.

“I don’t trust lawyers,” he said. “And smooth-talking, rich, handsome guys like that are bad news for lonely widows.”

Cathy laughed. “Then I’m safe from him. I’m not a lonely widow.”

Jack slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “You certainly aren’t, and I intend to make sure you stay that way.”

She looked up at him. “What did you need to see me about?”

He frowned. “Seth.”

“Seth?”

“He came to see me yesterday afternoon.”

“About you and me or about Missy?”

“About Missy. He’s got a crush on her, but I figure you already know that, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“He’s very worried about her, and he wanted to ask me to do whatever I could to help her. He knows I’m on the task force and thought I could use my influence with Mike and the others to get them to handle her with kid gloves.”

“Oh, Jack. I had no idea he’d come to you and ask you to intervene. I’m sure he wasn’t intentionally asking for any special favors for Missy.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. Seth didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted you to know how concerned he is about her. I realize you don’t need any advice about how to handle your son, but you might want to talk to him, help him work out the anger and frustration he’s feeling. He doesn’t understand how a father could abuse his own child the way Donnie Hovater did Missy. And I don’t think he’ll get any help on that front from his grandparents. I figure they’re the type of people who aren’t going to want to talk about it.”

“You’re right, they aren’t. But he and I talked yesterday, probably before he came to see you. I have to admit that I’m as dumbfounded as Seth is as to how a man who appeared to be a fine, upstanding preacher could be such a monster. Seth told me that he wanted to see Missy, and I told him that she wasn’t ready to see him, that it might be a while before she’d want to see any of her friends.”

“We had a man-to-man discussion,” Jack admitted. “He stayed at the house a couple of hours, and we talked about a lot of things. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t know how much I helped him, but I tried.”

“I don’t mind at all. Thank you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed Jack’s cheek. “I think you could be a very positive influence on Seth. He needs a man to talk to, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have him go to for advice.”

“I’m not so sure how good an influence I’ll be, but I can give it my best shot. I think maybe Seth’s a lot smarter than I was at his age and a hell of a lot more grounded. And I have a feeling that was your doing.”

Cathy caressed Jack’s cheek. “Sometimes…”

“Sometimes what?”

“Nothing, really. Just sometimes I wish things could be different. I wish I could change the past.”

He grabbed her hand and held it. “It’s bad to look back. The past is over and done with. All we have is the here and now.”

Cathy laid her hand in the center of his chest and smiled. “Will you come for dinner tonight?”

“Why don’t I pick up some barbeque and bring supper with me?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Think about me a few times today.”

“I will,” she told him. “You think about me, too.”

“I’ll think about tonight.”

She kissed his cheek again before walking away, her emotions all over the place. Happy. Worried. Eager. Uncertain.

How long would it be before she’d have no choice but to tell Jack the truth about Seth?

John Earl had debated whether or not he should be at home when Ruth Ann arrived with Missy Hovater. He certainly didn’t want to do anything to upset the girl or cause her any undue distress. But in the end, he had decided that if he and Ruth Ann were going to bring this young girl into their family as a foster daughter, the sooner she accepted him as a friend, the better. He realized that she would be wary of him at first, that because she had been abused by her father for so many years, she might see him as the enemy. She would need time to learn to trust him. He was, after all, a man, and the poor child had learned from her horrific experiences that men could not be trusted.

When Ruth Ann had spoken to him about Missy, about her desire to help the girl by making her a part of their family, he had been reluctant. But seeing how important this was to his wife, he had finally agreed. Perhaps in helping Missy, Ruth Ann could actually help herself. Until the recent series of clergymen murders, John Earl had thought perhaps, at long last, she had been able to put the past behind her. Of course, she could never forget the years of sexual abuse she endured or the way in which her father had died, but he had hoped those things no longer haunted her. But then the old nightmares had returned to plague her on a routine basis.

“They’re here.” Felicity jumped away from the window and let the curtain fall back into place. “What do we say? What do we do?”

“Don’t do anything other than say hello,” John Earl advised. “She’ll probably want to go to her room, and she may not want to interact with any of us, other than your mother, for a while.”

“I think bringing that girl into our home is a mistake,” Faye Long said.

“Grandmother, how unchristian of you.” Felicity glowered at Faye.

“I think it’s awful what Missy’s father did to her,” Charity said. “I don’t blame her if she did kill him.”

“We’ll have no more talk like that,” John Earl told his elder daughter.

“Did she ever tell you what was going on?” Felicity skewered her sister with her sharp glare. “You two are friends, and friends tell each other secrets. If Missy really is the Fire and Brimstone Killer, maybe she’ll confess to you.”