G
ordy Jameson sat in his office, reading the headlines of Friday’s
North Coast Messenger
and decided he wasn’t letting the discovery of another boat of explosives quench his enthusiasm for tonight’s rehearsal dinner. He folded the newspaper and started to set it aside when a short article at the bottom of the page caught his eye.
L
EGAL
S
ECRETARY
F
OUND
D
EAD IN
D
UMPSTER
Kinsey Abbot (35), a legal secretary for the Tallahassee law firm of McAllister, Norton, Riley, and Jones, was found stabbed to death yesterday in an Atlanta Dumpster, just hours after undercover police in Tallahassee arrested Robert Thomas Blakely (33), believed to be a key player in a finely tuned cocaine ring involving Abbot.
Though the Atlanta police concluded that Abbot was likely the victim of a robbery since her jewelry had been removed and her purse was found empty, Tallahassee police have not ruled out the possibility that Blakely may have ordered Abbot’s murder.
Blakely denies any connection to Abbott’s death, and has been charged with possession and trafficking of an illegal substance. He is being held without bail in the Leon County jail pending today’s arraignment.
A source within the Tallahassee police department
told a reporter from the
Democrat
that Guy Jones, one of the firm’s partners and Abbott’s boss, had previously discovered a small bag of cocaine in his apartment after Ms. Abbot had spent the night there, but did not immediately report it to the Tallahassee police.
Jones, who is married and living in Seaport, was unavailable for comment, but Brent McAllister, a spokesman for the law firm, stated emphatically that Jones and Abbot’s relationship was strictly professional, and that Jones had no knowledge of Abbott’s ties to drug trafficking until Friday of last week, at which time he filed a report with the Tallahassee Police Department.
The sound of the front door opening and closing caught Gordy’s attention.
“That you, Billy?”
“Yes, I am here, Mister G,” Billy Lewis said.
Gordy put down the newspaper and went out to the utility closet where Billy squatted, gathering his cleaning supplies into a bucket.
“You remember you’re not working tomorrow, right?”
Billy’s cheeks stretched and he was suddenly all teeth. “Oh, yes. You and Miss Pam are get-ting mar-ried.” Billy stood up and gave Gordy a playful jab with his elbow. “Now you can ask
me
for ad-vice.”
Gordy chuckled. “How about that.” He unlocked the door to the deck and held it open. “If I don’t see you before you leave, I’ll look for you at the lighthouse at five o’clock tomorrow night. Pam said to tell you she’s gonna have a ton of hushpuppies at the reception.”
“I like hush-pup-pies!”
“Well, come hungry and eat to your heart’s content.”
Billy went out on the deck, and Gordy shut the back door
just as Pam Townsend came in the front door.
“Hi darlin’, what’re you doin’ here?” He walked over and kissed her on the cheek.
Pam smiled and shook her head. “You’re not going to believe what just happened. I called the newspaper to cancel my subscription. When they asked me my address, I couldn’t remember what it was. I had to read it off my driver’s license!”
“Sounds like you’ve got butterflies.”
“No kidding. Tell me again what time you get off.”
“Weezie’s takin’ over at three. But I can help you decorate the banquet room any time you want. It’s already set for the rehearsal dinner.”
“Okay. I’ll be back when I get finished running errands. If the florist brings the flowers, just put them in the banquet room and we can arrange them later.”
Gordy put both his arms around her. “One day and counting. You didn’t forget your
new
address, did you?”
Pam pushed back and looked up at him, her palm over his heart. “Right there—as long as we both shall live.”
“You got it.”
“All right, love. I need to get some things done. You sure seem calm.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gordy said. “Did you happen to read the paper this morning?”
“No, I didn’t want to get depressed. Why?”
“Oh, nothin’. It’ll keep.”
Pam held his gaze. “You haven’t asked me if I’ve read the newspaper since I’ve known you. What don’t you want me to see?”
“Actually, it’s something we both need to be aware of. Hold on.” Gordy went to his office and brought back today’s paper and read her the article about Guy’s secretary. “What impression did it give
you
?”
“That your friend may have been involved with his secretary in more ways than one.”
“I hope not. I’m real fond of the Joneses. Could be Doc Tehrani isn’t the only one people are gonna be whisperin’ about at the wedding.
Guy sat at the breakfast bar, staring at nothing, vaguely aware that Ellen was standing behind him, her fingers massaging his shoulders.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” she said.
“I don’t think so, honey. I just feel like someone kicked the stuffing out of me.”
“We’ll get through this together.”
“Why are you being so understanding? That article was just the beginning.”
“I remember what it feels like to be falsely accused. You stood by me when Blanche went to Pastor Crawford with her tall tale of my adulterous affair.”
“But you didn’t make dumb choices that set you up for the gossip. Some of this is my own fault.” Guy closed his eyes and let the kneading of Ellen’s fingers soothe him. “I know I talked about it, but I really didn’t think Kinsey would get killed.”
“It breaks my heart to think what her last minutes must’ve been like. She had to be terrified. Did she cry out to God? I guess I’ll always wonder if she ever read the tract I gave her.”
“Sometimes I wish God had just granted forgiveness across the board without requiring such a hard choice from flawed human beings.”
Ellen stopped massaging. “Seems to me Jesus made the
hard
choice. Is it asking so much of flawed human beings merely to accept what He did, confess our sins, and follow Him?”
“No, I just feel so helpless when people I care about don’t.”
Silence settled over them for several minutes, then finally Guy said, “You still want to go to Gordy’s wedding tomorrow?”
“Of course. Since when does a little bad press hold me back?
Besides, people’s attention will be focused on Pam and Gordy.”
“We hope. It could be humiliating for you.”
He felt Ellen’s arms wrap around his neck, her warm cheek next to his. “Only if I let it. Those who care about us will believe what we tell them. Everyone else will just have to think what they want.”
Will Seevers sat in his office bemoaning the stack of paperwork that seemed to pile up as fast as he could work through it. He heard a female voice on the intercom.
“Chief, Gordy’s here. He’d like to see you and promises not to keep you long.”
“Okay, send him this way.”
A minute later, Gordy came through the doorway and flopped in a chair. “Hope you don’t mind me droppin’ in like this.”
“I can take a short break. So how’s the groom-to-be holding up?”
“I’m great. With all that’s goin’ on, you gonna be able to get away on time for the rehearsal and the dinner?”
“Absolutely. Bin Laden himself couldn’t stop me. Margaret and I will be there at five-thirty.”
Gordy paused for a moment and seemed to be wrestling with something.
“What’s on your mind?” Will said.
“Do you know anything about the situation with Guy Jones and that secretary that was murdered—other than what was in the newspaper?”
“What’re you asking me, Gordy?”
“Is Guy in trouble over this thing?”
“Not to my knowledge. Backus talked to the Tallahassee PD early this morning, comparing notes on the break-ins and helping to pull the loose ends together. Nobody said anything about
him being a suspect. I got the impression that Guy’s provided some major leads in this case.”
“You think he was involved with the secretary?”
Will raised his eyebrows. “You’re pushing the envelope, Gordy. I’m not going to talk about those kinds of details.”
“I know. I just feel so bad about it. I’m real fond of the Joneses.”
“Anything else on your mind?”
“I was also wonderin’ if you got any leads on the murders of the two boys?”
“We’re still sorting them out.”
“I read where you talked to all the students.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“By any chance did you talk to the boys who harassed the Muslim couple at the park?”
Will thumped his head with his palm. “Gee, why didn’t we think of that? Of course, we did, Gordy. What’s with the Columbo routine? You fishing for something specific … like checking to make sure we’re giving both boys’ deaths equal attention?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Listen, Gordy. I want nothing more than to get whoever did this. For me, it’s not a Muslim issue or a Jewish issue. I’ve got two sets of devastated parents, and I want someone held accountable for stealing their sons from them.”
“You still losin’ sleep over it?”
“What I’m losing is time, bud. I’ve gotta get back to work.”
“Yeah, sure. I need to head back anyway. It’s time for the lunch crowd to start rollin’ in. See you at 5:30.”
Gordy sat in his office at the crab shack and glanced at his watch. In another five minutes, he would officially be gone until after the honeymoon. He heard a gentle knock on the door and looked up and saw Weezie Taylor in the doorway.
“Can I bother you a minute?” she said.
“Sure. Come sit.”
“The banquet room looks great. I’m really glad you decided to have the rehearsal dinner here.” Weezie sat in the chair next to his desk and fiddled with the hem on her blouse.
“You just gonna bother me or did you have somethin’ to say?”
“I’m fixin’ to get sentimental and start blubberin’ all over myself. Just give me a second.”
Gordy put down his pen and scooted his chair over in front of hers. “Well, for cryin’ out loud, Weezie, what is it?”
She looked up at him, her dark, round eyes glistening. “I hope you know how very happy I am for you … There I go, blubberin’ already.” She held up her palm, her eyes closed, and paused for a moment. “Hang on. I need to say this … I stood by and watched you wither and almost die after Jenny passed away.” Weezie took hold of his hand. “And now I see you bloomin’ again. It’s been a real joy for me, too. Watchin’ you and Pam fall in love has given me hope that someday I might actually get over the pain of missin’ my Joshua—and the Lord might throw some big hunk of a man my way.”
“I’m sure He will,” Gordy said, “once He finds someone good enough for you.”
Weezie’s laughter filled the room. “Oh, is
that
it?”
“Okay, my turn to get schmaltzy.” Gordy paused until she looked at him. “I don’t know that I could’ve made it through the past three years without you.”
“Oh, sure you could’ve.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes you were the only reason I got out of bed in the morning.”
She waved her hand. “Get outta town!”
“I’m dead serious. I knew that no matter how much I was hurtin’, you’d make me laugh. And you’d keep the place runnin’ and let everyone think
I
was. You never once tried to take credit,
and I always admired that about you. Heck, there were plenty of times when you were the only bright spot in my entire day.”
“I had no idea.”
“That’s what makes you so special, Weezie. You’re always too busy thinkin’ about the other guy to realize what an asset you are.”
“Mercy! You do go on. If I wasn’t black, I’d be red in the face.”
Gordy smiled and shook his head. “I’m shootin’ straight, Weezie. You’re my closest friend. If you were a guy, I’d have asked you to be my best man.”
“Go on!”
“I would’ve.”
Weezie looked away, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s a privilege knowin’ you, Gordy Jameson. You’re the most colorblind man I’ve ever known …” her voice cracked, “and you’ve always treated me like family. Nobody wishes you more happiness than I do. Tomorrow night when you’re sayin’ your vows, I’ll be cheerin’ in my heart, askin’ the Lord to give you back the joy you’ve missed—a hundredfold.”
Gordy jumped to his feet. “Enough schmaltz, woman! You’re gonna have
me
blubberin’. Come on, you can walk me to the front door.”
33