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“Okay, Candace, Lucy, I know I asked you plenty of questions when I came before but now I want to go over some of what we talked about again.” He looked through his notes, turning pages for a moment. Then he turned his gaze to Candace. “You said that your cousin Frank wasn’t nice to you, and that he acted ‘bad’ with Lucy. Can you explain what you mean about the way he acted, Ms. Morgan?”

Candace sat quietly for a moment until Dot leaned in and said softly “Candace, he means you. You’re Ms. Morgan.”

“I know, Mom. I’m thinking.” How much abstract thought on this level was Candace capable of? If the communication between Frank and Lucy had been nuanced with adult meanings, would she and Lucy have caught everything Frank meant? “Frank wasn’t nice to anybody. He always tried to get free food from my restaurant and he got mad when I wouldn’t do it. With Lucy, he tried to act like he was her boyfriend.”

Lucy became visibly upset with that remark. “Frank is
not
my boyfriend. Nobody but Matt is
ever
going to be my boyfriend.”

Her sister laid a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Lucy. Nobody’s accusing you of anything. Candace is just telling the police officer how Frank wasn’t nice to you.”

“She’s right. He wasn’t nice to me. Besides, Frank is old and he’s married. I don’t want an old, married boyfriend.”

If the subject weren’t so serious I would have been tempted to laugh. Even Lucy knew that Frank was up to no good and called him on it.

Ray looked at Estella. “I’d like to ask Lucy if Collins made…uh…advances toward her.”

“Then go ahead and ask her. She isn’t deaf and she speaks for herself.” If Estella was Lucy’s advocate it was a little hard to tell from her attitude. Maybe she was just trying to foster independence in her sister.

Ray seemed to be consulting his notes again. “Lucy, Matt has told me that he hit Frank because Frank wasn’t nice to you. Did Frank ever try to do anything intimate with you?”

Lucy’s face clouded. “Estella, you said I could speak for myself. But I don’t understand exactly what he means.”

Estella leaned in close to Lucy and spoke in a low voice. Her words were soft enough that no one else could hear all of them, but I could hear the occasional word, like “babies.” After that, Lucy shook her head violently.

“Oh, no. He didn’t do that. Besides, me and Candace, we’re the same. We can’t have any babies. Right, Estella?” She looked at her sister for confirmation, and Estella gave a small nod.

“Does that satisfy you, Detective Fernandez?” Estella crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to stare Ray down. It was the first time I had ever seen him look away from a confrontation first.

“On that issue it does, if you agree to what your sister says.”

“Like I said before, Lucy doesn’t know how to lie. She doesn’t have the skills for deceit like the rest of us.” Was that pride or sorrow in her sister’s eyes when she talked about Lucy? I’d have to know Estella Perez much better to be able to tell.

“Okay, one more question. Did Matt tell you what happened when he got into the fight with Frank, Lucy?”

“Matt said he hit Frank. And then Candace’s mom took me to the funeral and she said Frank was dead and he was in that box and he couldn’t bother me anymore.”

“Did Candace’s mom tell you that Frank wouldn’t bother you? Are you sure that’s the way it happened?” Ray’s voice was gentle but firm and I knew what he was thinking.

Lucy looked down at the table in confusion. “No, wait. Candace’s mom just told me Frank was dead. Matt told me Frank wouldn’t bother me anymore. He said he took care of everything. I like the way Matt takes care of everything.”

Silence hung over the table like a visible cloud. “Are we done here, Detective Fernandez?” Estella had an arm around her sister again.

“I believe we are, Ms. Perez.” Ray closed his notebook and stood up.

“Does my sister need a lawyer? Will she have to testify in court?”

Ray shook his head. “No on both counts. Any competent defense attorney would eat her for lunch if she was on the stand in a trial. I wouldn’t put either of you through that even if I thought it would help.”

Dot and I looked at each other and I could tell we were thinking the same thing. The moment we got out of here we needed to call Lexy. Matt Seavers was going to need a good criminal lawyer, and fast.

Lucy watched Ray leave, but didn’t get up from the table. “Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? He looked mad.”

Surprisingly her sister didn’t move to comfort her right away, but stood up and looked like she was gathering her things together. “Lucy, you’re okay. You’re always okay. But I’ve got to go to work now.” Estella gave her a brusque hug and headed to the door.

The difference in the way she dealt with her sister and the way Dot did with Candace felt like night and day. Dot went over to Lucy, who still sat looking confused. “You’re not in trouble, Lucy. Telling the truth is always the best thing, even when it may cause somebody else a problem.”

Dot sat down in the chair Estella had vacated. She faced Lucy and held her hands, and I could tell that she was going to try and explain to this young woman what her words might have brought about. But before she could, Candace came over beside her roommate. “Matt may be good at solving problems, Lucy, but I know somebody even better, right, Mom? It’s Jesus. He can solve any problem.”

“You’re right, Candace. Lucy, do you want us to pray with you to ask Jesus to help ease any trouble Matt might be in right now?”

Lucy nodded, and before we left to call Lexy we gathered there in the dining room of Rose House to pray together. When we left Candace was comforting Lucy and both of them looked much calmer again.

“Prayer works in every situation,” Dot murmured out on the front walkway. “I can’t believe it took a reminder from Candace for me to pray first and seek human aid second.”

For once I didn’t have anything to add to her thoughts, so I just kept praying silently that Jesus would look after all of us, including Estella at work and Ray Fernandez while he made a hard decision. They were the people who would probably be hurting most in this situation because it didn’t look like either of them had much faith to lean on in a crisis.

G
od bless Lexy Adams for her quick thought and knowledge of the law. By the time we were all stuffing shoeboxes together at Conejo Community Chapel Thursday night she had lined up a good criminal defense attorney willing to take Matt’s case for next to nothing. “There’s always somebody willing to work pro bono if you look around a bit,” she said as she went down the line dropping sample-sized bottles of shampoo into the personal care packages.

I followed behind her with washcloths rolled up into a cylinder. “So does your friend think Matt’s going to need much of her services?”

“This time my attorney friend is a guy named Brian, and I haven’t talked to him again since he met with Matt.” Lexy went over to the table where the rest of the supplies sat stacked in plastic bags and picked up more shampoo. “But based on what you and Dot said about the interviews with Candace and Lucy, it wouldn’t take much more for the sheriff’s department to want to charge him.”

“Exactly what would it take?” Dot stood next to us, dropping small bars of soap into each shoebox.

Lexy shifted the bag of shampoo bottles and ticked things off on her fingers. “Any real physical evidence linking Matt with the murder would be enough. Finding his fingerprints on the gun, or close to where they retrieved the gun. Or any admission of guilt he made to the police personally.”

“They already have his fingerprints on the gun.” I didn’t know who else knew this. After I spoke I realized I might be getting myself in trouble with Fernandez again, but so be it. Lexy and her friend needed to know everything possible to defend Matt.

“Lovely. Does Matt have any explanation for how they got there?”

“He probably does and it more than likely related to the fistfight Matt and Frank got into. Ray told me the prints were on the barrel of the gun, not on the trigger or the butt or grip or whatever you call it on a pistol.”

Lexy raised an eyebrow. “Hey…when did the detective become Ray?”

Oh, boy. Now I would be in trouble on two issues. “We bounce back and forth between formality and informality depending on whether he’s mad at me or not. And we might have had dinner together at the same restaurant Tuesday night and talked a bit about the case.”

“
Might
have had dinner together? Aren’t you sure?” Lexy wore a full grin now. Her teasing expression made her look even more like a high school cheerleader than usual.

“Okay, we had dinner together. But it wasn’t a date or anything. He just came into the place where I was already having fish tacos, and neither of us felt like sitting alone.”

“Gracie Lee, you don’t have to explain to me. You’re both over twenty-one and single, you know.”

“That’s true. But don’t make more of this than there really is to it. Having a plate of fish tacos together does not make the basis for a relationship.”

Lexy shrugged. “I’ve heard of relationships based on less. Of course I usually hear about that kind because one of my associates at the firm is dealing with a divorce. But getting back to the real subject at hand, which isn’t good news. Matt’s prints being on the gun aren’t a good thing for him even if they’re only on the barrel.”

Dot had joined our little group. “You’re right. And I’m worried about Matt anyway, because I don’t know how he’ll act if the police start questioning him in a serious way,” she said. “I’ve seen him several times with Lucy and while he might be a little bit quicker than her, or Candace, he’s always struck me as someone who would say something because he thought that was what somebody wanted to hear.”

“That’s the worst kind of person to have as a suspect to a crime.” Lexy frowned. “There are more bogus confessions obtained because of people like that. Let’s just hope your homicide detective recognizes Matt for what he is.”

I shook my head. “He’s not
my
homicide detective. In fact, I’d be willing to say Ray’s not anybody’s detective except his own. He’ll follow procedure, but I don’t think he’d try to get a false confession out of anybody.”

“We can certainly pray that that’s the case.” Dot dropped the last individual pack of tissues into another shoebox. She looked down at the row of boxes, a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, Paula’s the event chairperson for these boxes, and she says she needs at least a hundred more of them after we’re done tonight. It’s the kind of work that Lucy and Candace could do. Maybe I ought to see if they would like to be part of a work crew Saturday morning.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe they can bring some of their friends. And I’d certainly be happy to be part of the crew.” Lexy smiled, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. I wondered who Lucy and Candace’s “friends” would be on Saturday. I told Dot to count me in if she needed more people. With everyone who was likely to be involved, this was one group I wanted to see work together.

On Friday Dot called me to let me know about Saturday. “We’re on for 10:00 a.m. filling more boxes. Candace, Lucy and I are going to grab a quick breakfast and go to the church from there. Do you want to go with us?”

“Not this time. I’ll meet you at the chapel when it’s time to work on the kits. Before that I’ll need to see that Ben gets something to eat, and I probably need to go grocery shopping this afternoon to make sure there’s something I can fix for dinner tomorrow night.”

Before the grocery store I made a quick stop at one of the “dollar store” places that abound here and picked up a few more washcloths and combs for the personal care boxes. I can’t afford to do a lot of monetary giving right now, but I can definitely do something. Most of my church contribution is in time, like packing the boxes. Still, the thought of people without a roof overhead trying to live out of their cars or inside shelters haunts me and I want to spend money to help anybody in that situation.

There were a few cars in the lot when I got to the chapel the next morning. Nobody had a huge work crew packing boxes inside, judging from the amount of vehicles there.

I had been right in my supposition on Thursday night. The group around the table filling shoeboxes included not only Lexy, Dot, Candace and Lucy, but a young man who had to be Matt Seavers as well. Looking at him in the flesh, so to speak, I could see how somebody could confuse him and Ben, especially from the back. Matt was tall and rangy like Ben and like many guys in their teens and early twenties, favored hooded sweatshirts and baggy shorts. Today the shorts had been replaced by equally baggy jeans because it was cool and drizzly out again. Even I hadn’t opted for sandals, wearing tennies for comfort.

“Hi, Gracie Lee. Come over here and meet Matt,” Dot called when she saw me standing in the doorway with my bag of supplies. She did the introductions and I got a shy “hello” from Matt. He didn’t meet my gaze for very long and it made me worry about how things might have gone at the sheriff’s department. If he’d acted that way with Fernandez, the detective may have labeled him “shifty.”

“Matt was just telling us about his experience yesterday at the sheriff’s department,” Lexy said while she dropped bars of soap into a row of shoeboxes. “He hasn’t been charged with anything yet, although he was fingerprinted and questioned for a while.”

“Yeah. They weren’t real rough or anything. I was scared they were going to be,” he said, still looking other places besides my face or anyone else’s. Lucy hovered next to him, with the pair of them taking turns putting small bottles of shampoo into the boxes. They made quite a contrast, the tall young man with relatively plain features and the beautiful woman, even younger, much shorter and more rounded in her velour jogging suit.

“I invited Estella to come work with us this afternoon, but she had to be at the hospital,” Dot said.

“That’s okay with me.” Matt gave a weak smile. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

Lucy patted his hand. “Sure she does. Estella is just cranky. She’s that way with everybody.”

“Everybody but you, Lucy.” He leaned his head down to touch hers in a gesture of affection that was so sweet it made my throat tighten up. If this young man was a murderer, he was also an incredible actor, and I couldn’t see that being the case.

An hour passed quickly as we made circuits of the table with different items for each shoebox. Working together we could do sixteen boxes at a time, all put next to each other on each side of the table. After a while you tended to get a little dizzy or stir-crazy or something, going around the circuit. Dot started singing a silly version of the hokey-pokey that had everybody giggling, even Matt. “I should have talked Buck into coming and doing this with us,” she said, looking at Matt. “That way you wouldn’t have been the only male member of this party.”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t mind. I work with guys all day, and this way I get to spend time with Lucy. This is cool.”

“Yeah. We don’t get to spend that much time together.” Lucy moved even closer to him. “This is real nice.”

“Do you two ever get to go out on dates?” Lexy asked.

Matt shook his head. “Not very often. I don’t have a car or a license, so I have to count on somebody else for a ride. If I can get a ride to Lucy’s place, we can walk someplace together, like the movie theater where she works.”

“Yeah. I can get free tickets any night but Friday if I’m not working. I still have to pay for popcorn, but we don’t eat much,” Lucy added.

“So that’s your social life?” Lexy’s voice held a little sadness.

“Pretty much. Otherwise there’s some kind of social event that ARC puts on once a month and that’s about it.”

I didn’t have to ask Matt what ARC was. Hanging around Dot, I knew the letters stood for Association for Retarded Citizens, a term that wasn’t used much anymore. Still, the agency kept its acronym just because the people who used their services were familiar with the term. Everything else they put out in the community talked about serving the developmentally disabled, which is the current “correct” term. Personally after meeting Candace, Lucy and Matt and a few of their friends, I had decided that “child of God” just like the rest of us was as appropriate as anything.

“How has your employer been about all of this?” Lexy was full of questions for Matt. I wondered if it was because of concern for him, or if these were things her friend Brian, the criminal lawyer, needed to know for something.

“Okay so far. If they arrest me I’m going to be in trouble with Leopold Plumbing. They don’t like to have people with police records working for them.”

Lexy frowned. “They can’t fire you for that, Matt. Not unless they want a lawsuit on their hands.”

He shrugged, looking down at the table. “They’re smart. They’d find some other reason. I really hope it doesn’t come up, because if I stay on there, I’ve got a chance at making journeyman soon. That would mean enough money that…well, it would mean good things.”

Lucy smiled softly, looking at him. “Estella isn’t here, Matt. And nobody will tell her. You can say it.”

“Right,” Candace piped up. “If you make more money, maybe you and Lucy could get married. She’s doing real good in her independent living class.”

Matt gave Candace a worried glance, then looked away. “Maybe you shouldn’t say that, Candace. Maybe somebody would tell Estella anyway.”

“I wouldn’t,” Lexy said firmly. “And I think everybody would agree that you can certainly talk about anything you want to. Now when it gets past the stage of talking and you start making plans, then it would be a good thing to talk to Estella, I think.”

Lucy’s sweet face clouded. “Estella will get mad. She always does. Then she’ll say no. She doesn’t think I should ever get married. Estella says I’ll never be old enough to get married, old enough in my brain, anyway.”

I didn’t have any answer for that, so I stayed silent. Nobody else piped up right away either. For a few minutes we all just loaded different items into the shoeboxes instead.

After about twenty minutes more of making the rounds of the table, Linnette came into the room with a tray. “Okay, I think it’s time for a break in here. The other group from one of the women’s’ prayer circles had refreshments set out. When they found out how large a group we had working in here, they insisted I take a tray. Who wants cookies and hot cider?”

She didn’t get many arguments. All work stopped and we sat at a table away from the shoeboxes, having a little social time together. It was only a little social time because before anyone had finished more than two cookies or half a cup of cider, someone else came into the room, putting a damper on our party.

“Matthew Seavers?” My heart sank as I heard Ray Fernandez use Matt’s formal name that way. I knew what was likely to follow such formality.

Matt must have guessed, too, because he set down his cup, hugged Lucy while whispering something in her ear, and stood up. “Yes, sir?”

“You are under arrest for suspicion of murder in the death of Frank Collins.” Fernandez continued on with the full words of a Miranda warning while putting a set of handcuffs on Matt. Lexy was alternately spluttering and dialing something into her cell phone before Ray got half of the words out.

“I don’t think it’s right to do that in a church, Mom,” Candace said, her lower lip trembling.

“I’m not sure it’s right to do anywhere, but that remains to be seen,” her mother answered.

“Brian Naylor will be at the sheriff’s station before you even finish booking his client.” Lexy’s face was flushed and her hands shook as she closed up her cell phone.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ms. Adams.” The detective looked saddened and grim as he glanced my way, leading the now-handcuffed Matt toward the door. Ray’s golden brown eyes seemed to be asking for forgiveness. If I had felt like speaking to him, which I didn’t, I would have told him that I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness right now.

Instead of saying anything to him while he and Matt left, I concentrated on Lucy instead. She stood near where Matt had left her, tears running down her smooth cheeks. “I knew it. I got him in trouble. They’re taking Matt to jail.” The last word stretched out to several syllables as she sobbed while trying to speak.