Silent Killer (15 page)

“There isn’t, but thanks. I’ll deal with this in my own way and in my own time.”

“Come on, you two,” Lorie called. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of decaf and we can eat our dessert.”

Jack slipped his arm around Cathy’s waist. She felt his touch in every nerve in her body. A tingling warmth spread through her, an odd mixture of excitement and contentment. Side by side, the strength of his big body comforting her, they went up the steps, onto the porch and into the house.

Jack and Deputy Willis were holding down the fort tonight, and so far, more than four hours into their eight-hour shift, things had been relatively quiet. He glanced at the wall clock. It was already three-thirty Sunday morning. The night dispatcher had taken a total of five calls, and all of them had been easily handled by the night-shift patrolmen on duty. With little to do, he’d found himself thinking about Cathy. When he had returned to Dunmore and taken the job with the sheriff’s department, he’d been at loose ends, uncertain what the future held. Now, here he was back home only a few weeks and he’d hired a contractor to restore his old home and he was pursuing a girl who’d dumped him for another guy nearly seventeen years ago.

Well, maybe he wasn’t actually pursuing Cathy, just renewing their old friendship and seeing where it went. And to be fair, he supposed he couldn’t accuse her of dumping him. He’d been the one who had left her behind when his unit had been sent to the Middle East and he’d wound up spending months as an Iraqi prisoner of war. What had he expected her to do when he’d been reported missing in action?

Just as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, Jack heard a ruckus at the front entrance, where Deputies Gipson and Dryer were escorting a group of teenagers into the building. He set the mug down on his desk and headed toward the officers and a gang of grumbling youngsters. He counted seven in all, four girls and three boys. Two of the girls were crying, and one of the boys, a redhead, looked scared to death.

“My folks are going to kill me,” one of the girls whined.

“Yeah, my old man will ground me for the rest of my life,” the frightened redhead said.

“Ah, shut up pissing and moaning,” said a stocky boy with a long, dark ponytail.

“You shut up,” a tattooed girl with jet black hair and heavy purple eye shadow told him. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess. You promised that nobody would know if we slipped away for a while, just to smoke and drink a few beers. We didn’t know you meant smoke marijuana.”

Jack called out, “What have we here?”

“A bunch of stupid kids. The ones that were reported missing, the ones the police have been looking for,” Deputy Dryer replied. “They didn’t think anybody would miss them when they left the youth rally over at the community center. They were wrong.”

“We just happened to find them a block away in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot,” Gipson said. “They had three six-packs of beer that apparently one of them had stashed there earlier, and a couple of them were smoking pot.”

“Miss Dagger Tattoo and Mr. Tough Guy were the two smoking,” Dryer added.

“We didn’t know it was marijuana,” the tattooed girl said. “I swear we didn’t.”

Gipson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, sure.”

A tall, lanky boy with brown hair turned from where he’d been shielding one of the girls with his body. When Jack got a good look at the boy, he sucked in a startled breath.

Son of a bitch. There stood Cathy’s son, Seth, a nervous yet defiant expression on his face. And the girl he’d been trying to protect was none other than Brother Hovater’s daughter.

She woke to the smell of smoke and the realization that a hand covered her mouth. Acting purely on instinct, she tried to scream, but the sound came out a muffled whimper as her eyes flew open and she looked up into her mother’s face.

“Stay calm,” her mother told her. “Don’t panic.” She eased her hand away from Ruth Ann’s mouth. “Get out of bed right now. The house is on fire, and we have to hurry before we’re trapped.”

Sleep-groggy, she jerked into a sitting position, her mind barely comprehending what she’d been told.

Her mother grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the bed. “If we run, we can make it out through the back door. The fire started in my bedroom, but it’s spreading fast.” She all but dragged Ruth Ann out of her room and into the smoky hallway. “We don’t have much time.”

Barefoot and wearing only a cotton gown, she glanced back over her shoulder as she ran with her mother down the hall and into the kitchen. Dark, heavy smoke followed them, allowing her only a glimpse of the fire quickly consuming their house. When they reached the back door, Ruth Ann hesitated half a second. Her mother screamed at her, jogging her into immediate action. They raced down the back steps and into the yard, stopping only when they were in the driveway, both of them slightly winded.

“What about Daddy?” Ruth Ann asked.

“It’s too late for your father,” Faye said.

She stared into her mother’s cold, dead eyes and knew the truth.
Oh God in heaven.

“We can’t just let him die, can we?” Ruth Ann grabbed her mother’s hands and squeezed them tightly. “It would be murder.”

Faye pulled loose from Ruth Ann’s fierce grasp and focused her gaze on the burning house. “No, it’s not murder. It’s retribution.”

She didn’t say anything else, not for a long while. Not when the neighbors came out of their homes to offer them solace and to watch the parsonage burn. And not even when the fire trucks arrived, along with the police and an ambulance. The paramedics pronounced that she was in shock, but she knew better. Stunned, perhaps. Feeling horribly guilty. Afraid to speak for fear she would say the wrong thing.

Tonight, she and her mother had killed her father. This secret would bind them together forever.

Ruth Ann woke suddenly and realized she had been dreaming again, dreaming about the night her father died. Turning over, she searched in the darkness for John Earl but found his side of the bed empty. Whenever she had one of her horrific dreams, he would always comfort her. She had come to rely on his steadfast love and kindness. If God had cursed her with a monster for a father, he had equally blessed her ten times over with a husband like John Earl.

She tossed back the covers, slid out of bed and slipped on her house shoes. Looking at the bedside clock, she saw that it was after four. Where on earth was John Earl?

When she opened the bedroom door and walked into the hall, she heard the soft murmur of a voice coming from the kitchen. The girls were at the all-night youth rally at the community center, leaving only John Earl, her mother and her in the house. Since her mother took a sleeping pill every night, she assumed the voice belonged to John Earl. Undoubtedly, he was on the telephone because there was some type of emergency with a parishioner. But why hadn’t she heard the phone ring? Had she been that deeply asleep?

Pausing outside the kitchen, she listened for a couple of minutes.

“Yes, I understand, and I certainly appreciate your willingness to handle things this way,” John Earl said. “Ruth Ann and I will be there as soon as possible.”

With her heart hammering in her chest, she entered the kitchen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

John Earl, wearing only his pajama bottoms, snapped around and stared at her, his eyes blank. He shook his head, hung up the phone and then faced her. “First of all, both Charity and Felicity are all right. But they’re in a bit of trouble. Especially Felicity. We need to get dressed and go to the sheriff’s office right away.”

“Lord have mercy, what’s happened?”

“It seems that our girls, along with several other kids, slipped away from the youth rally tonight.”

“What? Why would they—?”

“I don’t know the answer to that,” John Earl told her as he walked over and grasped her gently by the shoulders. “A couple of deputies found the kids in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. They had beer with them, and one of the boys and Felicity were smoking pot.”

“Oh God, no!”

He gripped her shoulders a little tighter. “It’s going to be all right. That was Mike Birkett on the phone. Charity called me a few minutes ago. I thought for sure the phone would wake you, but it didn’t. I came in here and called Mike back immediately. He’s being very understanding about the situation. He says that we can pick up both girls tonight. Charity isn’t being charged with anything. And the charges against Felicity—”

“What charges? Oh God, John Earl, will she have to go to jail?”

“No. Mike told me to contact a lawyer in the morning. Felicity will have to appear in juvenile court, but more than likely the sentence will entail a fine and community service.”

Tears gathered in Ruth Ann’s eyes. “I’ve failed her as a mother, haven’t I? Where did I go wrong? Charity has never given us a moment’s trouble, but Felicity…Oh dear. The whole town will know about this by the time Sunday school starts. How will this look—the minister’s daughter arrested for underage drinking and smoking marijuana?”

“I’m not concerned about how this will look.” He ran his open palms down her arms and grasped her hands in his. “People will either understand or they won’t. Our only concern should be Felicity.”

“Yes, I know. And poor Charity. I’m sure the only reason she was involved was because she was trying to look after her sister.”

“Let’s get dressed.” He turned her toward the stairs and slipped his arm around her waist. “Our daughters need us to present a united front. We’re in agreement that Charity will need reassurance that we don’t blame her for any of this. And Felicity will need our love and support, but we have to make her understand how serious the situation is.”

“Yes, of course, we’re in total agreement. And we will certainly present a united front.”

Jack had called Mike and explained that Deputies Dryer and Gipson had brought in seven teenagers, all but two under the age of eighteen. Six of the seven had slipped away from the Christian youth rally at the community center and been reported missing by the chaperones in charge. Both the local police and sheriff’s department had been looking for them when two deputies had found the kids with several six-packs. And two of the seven were smoking pot.

“The nineteen-year-old is the real culprit,” Jack had said. “My guess is he provided the beer and the marijuana. I’d nail his cocky ass to the wall. The others are probably good kids who got caught in a bad situation.”

Mike had grumbled a few obscenities, as much a complaint about being awakened before dawn as a judgment on the situation.

“To complicate matters even more, you personally know four of the kids.”

“Shit. Just tell me.”

“Cathy’s son, Seth. But he wasn’t drinking or smoking, according to the others. Then there’s the Harper sisters, whose father is the minister at First Baptist—”

“Lorie’s cousin John Earl’s daughters?”

“Yep. And Melissa Hovater, whose father is the Church of Christ preacher.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ve got to call my mom and ask her to come over to stay with the kids. Have you let all of them contact their parents?”

“I wanted to talk to you first and see if we can’t work something out so we can let these kids go home with their parents and maybe not charge them. Well, except Ricky, who provided the beer and the pot. And Seth has asked if he can call his mother instead of his grandparents.”

“His grandparents are his legal guardians,” Mike had reminded him.

“I know, but the boy’s scared to death about how his grandfather will react. I thought Cathy could—”

“Hell, we’ll work it all out when I get there.”

It had taken Mike thirty minutes to arrange for his mother to babysit and for him to get dressed and make it to the office. That had been twenty minutes ago, and they were still trying to “work it out.”

Neal Prater’s parents were the first to arrive. His mother was in tears and his burly, blustering father was cursing a blue streak until Mike spoke to him privately. He calmed down instantly. Lacey Sims’s mother, a divorcee who worked the night shift at the Tyson plant, sent Lacey’s aunt to the station. Aunt Bree had accused them all of harassing her niece and bringing her in on trumped-up charges. Ricky had been booked, put behind bars and was waiting for his lawyer.

When Cathy arrived, she searched the crowd, looking for Seth. Jack went to her and took her aside for a couple of minutes.

“He wasn’t drinking or smoking pot,” Jack said. “I don’t think Mike is going to charge him with anything, but he is going to talk pretty rough to all of them. The boy who brought the beer and pot is nineteen, and he’s been arrested.”

“Why would Seth do something like this? He’s never—”

“I think he went along to keep watch over Missy Hovater,” Jack said. “I got the impression he likes her.”

Cathy glanced at the teenagers huddled together across the room, Seth with his arm around Missy’s shoulders. Charity Harper was wiping the black mascara-streaked tears from her sister’s face.

“Did you call J.B. and Mona?” she asked.

“No,” Jack said. “Mike and I aren’t in agreement on this, and he may call them yet, but Seth seems genuinely terrified of how his grandfather will react.”

“J.B. doesn’t allow for human frailties. He demanded perfection from Mark, and he expects no less from Seth.”

“You realize your lawyer could use this incident against the Cantrells,” Jack told her. “If you—”

“I’d never subject Seth to the humiliation. If Mike can find a way not to charge Seth…I know J.B. will have to be told. But it will be easier for Seth if he can tell him himself later and not have to face his grandfather here at the sheriff’s office.” She laid her hand on Jack’s arm. “Thank you for letting him call me. Now I need to see my son.”

Just as Cathy walked toward Seth, John Earl and Ruth Ann Harper arrived. The moment she saw her parents, Felicity ran straight into her father’s open arms.

“Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry,” she cried. “I swear I’ll never do anything this stupid again. Please don’t let them put me in jail. I just took one or two little puffs. I swear, I swear.”

John Earl wrapped his arms around his younger child and whispered something to her. She laid her head on his shoulder and clung to him. Quietly, Charity came over to her parents and looked from one to the other.

“I tried to stop her,” Charity said. “But she listened to Lacey and Neal, and when they all left, I couldn’t let her go without me. And I couldn’t tell on her.” She glanced back at Seth. “Seth and I didn’t drink anything or smoke anything. We just went along to keep an eye on Felicity and Missy.”

John Earl offered his elder daughter a weak smile. “Thank you, sweetheart, for trying to look after your sister.”

Ruth Ann wrapped her arm around Charity’s shoulder. “This is not your fault, and I don’t want you to worry that we blame you in any way.”

Felicity raised her head, pulled out of her father’s embrace and faced her parents. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who talked Missy into going. I told her Neal and Lacey were going to meet up with Ricky and wouldn’t it be fun if we went, too. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

“You certainly acted foolishly tonight,” John Earl said.

“What are they going to do to me?” Felicity asked, a note of fear in her trembling voice.

“I don’t know, honey,” Ruth Ann said. “You’re seventeen and were caught drinking beer and smoking marijuana.”

Felicity burst into tears again.

Cathy walked over to Seth where he stood beside a subdued Missy Hovater, her head bowed, her gaze fixed on the floor. When he saw his mother, Seth stared directly at her, a silent plea for understanding in his blue eyes.

“I’m sorry about this, Mom.”

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“What about you, Missy?”

When the girl lifted her head, Cathy saw tears in her eyes and remorse in her expression.

“Seth didn’t do anything wrong. He tried to convince me not to go, but I wouldn’t listen to him. He just went with me to make sure…” Her voice broke.

Cathy could tell from the imploring look in Seth’s eyes that he wanted her to comfort Missy. She laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We all make mistakes. You’ve learned a valuable lesson tonight, and we’re fortunate that Sheriff Birkett is trying his best to sort through the facts and keep most of you from winding up in juvenile court.”

“I wish my father would see it that way. You’re being so nice, and so are Felicity and Charity’s parents.” Tears streamed down Missy’s face.

Cathy gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sure your father will be disappointed in your actions, but I have no doubt that he’ll be glad things didn’t turn out much worse.”

A voice called out from across the room. “Where’s my daughter?” All heads turned to locate the source of the booming voice.

Donnie Hovater, in rumpled dress slacks and a white T-shirt, scanned the sheriff’s department.

Cathy watched the play of emotions that crossed Missy’s face, and she noted something that truly bothered her: terror. Not just plain fear, which was understandable, but genuine terror. Why would this sweet girl be so horribly afraid of her father?

Donnie made his way straight to Missy, who took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and faced him. Her hands trembled. Her face went chalk white. Cathy’s first instinct was to stand between the preacher and his daughter, to protect the child from her own father.

Instead, she spoke to him in a calm voice. “She’s all right. And Sheriff Birkett knows that, like Jack said, she’s a good kid who got caught up in a bad situation.”

“How could you have done this?” Donnie demanded. “What possessed you?” He glared at Seth. “Did someone talk you into—?”