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Authors: Beverly Barton

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BOOK: Silent Killer
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Lorie pulled out the small leather clutch and handed it to Cathy. “And remember to cut Seth some slack. He’s going through a pretty rough patch right now. If he’s done something he shouldn’t have, point out to him that everyone makes mistakes and forgiveness works both ways.”

Cathy groaned. “All things considered, I guess I can overlook almost anything he’s done.”

 

Seth glanced at Missy, who clutched the steering wheel with both hands and glued her gaze to the rearview mirror as she backed her car out of the parking lot on Main Street.

“I haven’t driven anywhere since my father died,” Missy said. “I’m sort of nervous.”

“We could have walked to Treasures,” Seth told her. “Or if you want me to, I can drive. I’ve got my permit. I’ll be sixteen next month.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get there a lot quicker if we drive instead of walk, and it’s important that we talk to your mother as soon as possible. If we’re right about Felicity…”

“Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe I’ve jumped to conclusions. Just because she’s weird and was talking trash about killing her dad doesn’t mean she’s the Fire and Brimstone Killer.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But what if she is and we don’t tell anybody and she actually kills her father?”

“I keep going over the facts,” Seth said. “Whoever killed my dad and yours and the other clergymen had it in for men of God, right? And this person has to be all screwed up in the head. Also, the killer has to have access to a car and has to know how to drive. And don’t forget that whoever planted your locket at the last crime scene had to be someone who had access to it, which means somebody in the Harper household. Whoever did that doesn’t like you, otherwise she wouldn’t have tried to frame you. All the evidence adds up to Felicity.”

Missy shivered. Her whole body rippled with tremors. “Maybe not. What if it’s someone else in the Harper house?”

“Like who?”

“Mrs. Long, maybe. She’s a strange old woman, and it’s obvious she doesn’t like me.”

“But does she hate preachers for any reason?” Seth asked. “I’d think she might have a fondness for them since her son-in-law is a minister, and so was her husband.”

Missy slammed on the brakes so quickly that if he hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, Seth would have gone sailing through the windshield.

“What the heck?”

“Oh, Seth, it could be Mrs. Long or…No, no, I won’t believe it’s her.”

“Who? Mrs. Long?” Seth asked, but Missy shook her head. “Why did you stop in the middle of the street? If another car comes along, we could get hit from behind.”

Missy nodded, took her foot off the brake, gave the car enough gas to propel it forward and then she glanced at Seth. If I tell you a secret, will you swear to me that you won’t tell another living soul?”

“Yeah, sure. What is it?” Seth watched the play of odd emotions crossing Missy’s face. Whatever she was going to tell him must be pretty horrific.

“Swear to me. Say the words.”

“I swear I’ll never tell.”

“Ruth Ann’s father did to her what my father did to me. He raped her from the time she was a little girl until the day he died. That’s why she took me in, why she’s been trying to help me.”

“Shit! That means Mrs. Harper must have hated her father and could hate all ministers.”

“It gives her a motive,” Missy agreed. “But it also gives Mrs. Long a motive. She must hate what her husband did and probably hates herself for not being able to stop him.”

“So you think she’s stopping other ministers from doing bad things?” Seth asked. “But my dad was one of the good guys. Why would anyone kill him?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that someone in the Harper house could be the Fire and Brimstone Killer. I just don’t know who. It could be Felicity or Ruth Ann or—”

“Turn off here and hit the alley behind the street,” Seth told her. “Treasures has a parking area in back.”

Missy turned off North Main and quickly made a right into the alley. She pulled her car into an empty slot at the back of the Treasures building, and she and Seth got out and hurried to the back door. Finding the door locked, Seth banged on it with his fist. Finally, Lorie opened the door and stared at them, obviously startled by their unexpected appearance.

“What’s going on?” Lorie asked.

“I need to speak to my mother right away,” Seth said.

“She’s not here,” Lorie told him.

“Where is she?”

“She got a call from John Earl’s secretary. Something about a problem with you and Felicity, some trouble y’all had gotten into,” Lorie said. “She left a few minutes ago to go over to the Baptist church and talk to him.”

Seth’s gaze met Missy’s and he knew she was thinking what he was—that something was wrong, bad wrong.

“Somebody lied to Mom,” Seth said. “Felicity and I haven’t gotten into any trouble. There’s no reason Reverend Harper would need to talk to my mother about me. And his secretary isn’t at the church. She went home for the afternoon.”

“You two come on in.” Lorie held open the back door. “Tell me what’s going on. I can see that you’re both scared spitless.”

Seth allowed Missy to enter first, and then he followed her and waited for Lorie to close and lock the back door. Standing in the narrow hallway that separated the bathroom and the storeroom, Seth gave Lorie a condensed version of his and Missy’s theory.

“Do you think we’re wrong to be worried?” Missy asked.

“No, you’re not wrong,” Lorie said.

“What should we do?” Missy looked at her pleadingly.

“Call Jack,” Lorie said. “I have no idea what’s going on, who called Cathy and why, but I don’t like it. If you two are right about—”

“I’m going to the church now,” Seth told her. “Mom could be in trouble. You call Jack and tell him to meet me there, and I’ll call Mom’s cell phone and warn her. He looked at Missy. “Can I borrow your car?”

“I’m going with you,” Missy said.

“No, Seth, wait,” Lorie called to them as they pushed her out of the way and headed for the door.

 

When she parked her car in the church lot, she didn’t pay any attention to the other vehicles. People used the lot for various reasons, not all of them associated with the church. It had been years since she’d been inside the Dunmore Baptist Church, and she didn’t know her way around inside, so she entered through the unlocked front doors. Just inside the vestibule, she found a directory listing and discovered that the minister’s office was in the basement. The carpeted staircase leading down to it was well lit. Once she reached the lower level, she found a bright, cheerful hallway with pale cream walls and numerous rooms, most of them Sunday school rooms with gaily decorated doors.

When her cell phone rang, she opened her purse, reached in and removed the phone. Seeing that the caller was Seth, she answered immediately, but the phone suddenly went dead. She tried returning the call, but discovered that the reception here in the church basement was terrible. That was probably the reason her phone wouldn’t work properly. As soon as she talked to John Earl, she’d call Seth.

The door to the office marked
REVEREND JOHN EARL HARPER
stood wide open, enough so that Cathy was able to see inside to his secretary’s desk. But she saw no sign of Erin McKinley or anyone else for that matter.

Odd.

Maybe John Earl had sent her on an errand, or perhaps she was in the nearby restroom.

“Hello,” Cathy called as she walked into the outer office.

Silence.

“John Earl, it’s Catherine Cantrell.”

A strange noise came from inside his private office. She walked over to the partially open door and peered inside. No one sat behind the desk.

“John Earl?”

Then she heard that funny noise again. It sounded like shuffling and…and what? Moaning?

Her heartbeat accelerated.

What’s the matter with you? You’re acting as if you have something to be afraid of, and you know good and well you don’t. You’re in a church, in the minister’s private office. Where else could you be as safe as you are here?

Cathy entered the room and followed the peculiar sounds until she reached the side of the large oak desk. She saw what appeared to be a man’s feet clad in leather loafers.

Was John Earl lying on the floor? Doing push-ups? Or had he passed out?

She took several quick yet tentative steps and stopped dead still when she got a full view of the man on the floor. John Earl had been bound and gagged. Blood trickled down the side of his head, from his hairline to his chin. He stared up at her, his eyes wild with fear. He kept moaning and shaking his head.

“My God, who did this to you?” Cathy rushed over to him, knelt down beside him and yanked the gag from his mouth.

“Watch out!” John Earl yelled.

Too late. His dire warning was the last thing Cathy heard before someone conked her on the head and knocked her out cold.

Chapter Thirty-four

Missy zipped into the parking lot, came to a screeching halt and stopped her car in front of the church.

“Mom’s here,” Seth said. “There’s her car.”

Missy jerked the keys out of the ignition. Then she and Seth jumped out of the car and ran up the porch steps. They went inside, leaving the front doors wide open. He followed Missy straight to the stairs that led down to the basement. She stopped abruptly on the first step and glanced over her shoulder at Seth.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked softly.

“What if whoever called your mom has a weapon of some sort, a gun or a knife or…we don’t have anything to defend ourselves with or to defend your mom.”

Seth absorbed the reality of what Missy had just said. “We need to be quiet and not let anyone know we’re here. Understand? Our best chance of getting the upper hand is if we can take them by surprise.”

Missy shivered. “Oh, Seth, maybe we should wait for Deputy Perdue.”

“Look, why don’t you wait for Jack,” Seth suggested, keeping his voice quiet. “I’m going downstairs. I have to find out if my mom’s all right.”

“I know. It’s just that I’m scared.”

“Go back into the vestibule and wait for Jack.”

“But you might need my help.” She looked down the staircase. “I’m going with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then let’s go. And be as quiet as you can. We don’t want to give whoever’s down there any advance warning, do we?”

 

Cathy’s head hurt something awful. She tried to lift her hand to rub the back of her head but found that she couldn’t move her arm. Her eyes flew open. Where was she? And what had happened to her?
Think, Cathy, think!

When she tried to move again, she realized that her hands were tied behind her back, and when she tried to scream, all that came out was a muffled groan. She had been gagged!

Don’t panic.

She inhaled and exhaled several times in an effort to calm her rioting nerves. Then she tried to focus but found her vision slightly blurred, probably a result of having been hit on the head. But who had hit her? And why?

After repeatedly blinking her eyes, her vision cleared enough so that she could survey the area around where she lay. There on the floor, only a few feet away from her, was John Earl, his hands and feet bound. And someone had replaced the gag in his mouth. She tried to get his attention but realized that he was staring straight up at something or someone standing behind her.

Cathy’s heart raced as fear pumped a surge of adrenaline through her body. What was going on? Had she inadvertently walked in on a robbery?

Twisting around enough to move her head to one side, she followed John Earl’s gaze up and behind her.

Terror gripped her. Her muscles went taut.

Standing there looking down at them, a frighteningly sweet smile on her face and a small red gasoline can in her left hand, the Fire and Brimstone Killer pronounced a death sentence on both her and John Earl.

“The Lord has sent me here to punish you for your sins,” she said. “You, John Earl Harper, are an adulterer and a blasphemer. Pray for God’s mercy. And you, Catherine Cantrell, are a fornicator and a liar who sinned against your husband and your son. God has told me that you must die, too. He wants me to make an example of you as a warning to other women. Ask your Heavenly Father to forgive you.”

 

Jack pulled in at the Baptist church parking lot but didn’t see any sign of Seth and Missy. He figured they had beaten him here by a few minutes at the very least, which meant they were already inside the church. He didn’t know if the kids had simply concocted some elaborate story in the hopes of throwing suspicion off Missy for the recent string of murders or if there was some credence to their theory. But he knew one thing for sure—something about Cathy being lured to the church smelled to high heaven.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Lorie had told him when she’d called. “But my gut is telling me that Cathy’s in trouble. I’ve tried calling John Earl several times, and there’s no answer. The kids are on their way there now, and Seth’s ready to take somebody apart. You know how protective he is of his mother. Even if Cathy’s not in harm’s way, if he thinks she is, he could do something he’ll regret.”

Before getting out of his car, Jack removed his Smith & Wesson from his hip holster, checked it and returned it to the holster. When he got out, he surveyed the area. On a Monday afternoon, this section of town was quiet, with only an occasional passing car. The parking lot was 90 percent empty, and he suspected the few cars there weren’t related to any church business.

Finding the front doors standing wide open, Jack walked inside the vestibule and looked around, but didn’t see a soul. Lorie had told him that her cousin’s office was in the basement, so he quickly located the stairs and headed down, all the while hoping he would discover that he had no reason to be concerned about Cathy.

 

Cathy stared up at the girl who stepped around her in order to reach John Earl. She stood over him, smiling down at him. Acting as subtly as possible, so as not to bring attention to herself, Cathy managed to bend her knees, bringing her bound-together ankles up enough to propel her body into a creeping motion. She slithered slowly, quietly, carefully. Her purse lay within reach, there on the floor, to the side of the desk. Her cell phone was in her purse, resting securely in its own little open pocket. But even if she could get to her purse, how could she, with her hands bound behind her, open the purse and remove her cell phone? And would there be any service since there had been none earlier?

“Oh, let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end. God judgeth the righteous, and God is angry with the wicked every day,” she recited the Scriptures to John Earl, a passage from the seventh chapter of Psalms. “God has judged you, John Earl Harper, and as His angel of death, I have come here to punish you for your sins.”

John Earl tried to speak, but his words came out a mumbled plea to his daughter as his eyes filled with tears.

With her attention focused on her father, she paid no attention to Cathy, leaving her free to back up against her purse and grab it with her fingertips. She pushed the purse between her bound hands and struggled with the magnetic catch.

“I believed in you,” his daughter said. “I trusted you above all others. I thought you would never disappoint me, never hurt me.”

Cathy prized her purse open and then slid her fingers inside to search for her phone.

“Oh, Daddy, Daddy…I loved you.” A fierce, animal-like growl came from deep in her throat. “Damn you to hell!”

Cathy glanced toward John Earl. His daughter stood over him with the open gasoline can in one hand.
Dear God, no! No!
Cathy’s mind screamed as she watched Charity Harper pour gasoline all over John Earl.

 

“No, Charity, don’t do it!” Seth screamed.

Charity lifted her head and turned around, shifting her gaze from the unopened lighter she held in her hand to Seth and Missy standing in the doorway to the minister’s private office.

“Go away,” Charity said. “Do not interfere with the work of the Lord.”

“This isn’t the Lord’s work,” Seth told her. “This is the Devil’s work. How can you even think about killing your own father?”

Charity laughed, the sound frighteningly maniacal. “That’s just it, you see. John Earl Harper isn’t my father, just as Mark Cantrell wasn’t your father.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but whatever you’re thinking, you have to know that your dad—that John Earl—hasn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t having an affair with—”

Charity screamed. “Don’t say that woman’s name!”

Seth’s heart stopped for a millisecond. He glanced down at where his mother lay on the floor, her eyes pleading with him to be cautious, to do nothing to send Charity completely over the edge. He nodded to his mom so she’d know that he understood.

“You don’t want to do this,” Missy said. “Whatever you think your father has done, it can’t be as bad as what my father did.”

Charity glared at Missy. “That’s just it. What my father—my real father—did was every bit as bad and then some. At least your father didn’t get you pregnant, did he?”

“What are you saying?” Seth asked. “Are you pregnant?”

Charity screeched with laughter, the sound utterly hysterical. “Not me, stupid. My mother. My grandfather raped her over and over again from the time she was a little girl, and dear, devout, good Christian woman that she is, my Grandmother Long didn’t do anything to stop him.”

“Yes, I know,” Missy said, drawing Charity’s attention directly to her while Seth cautiously moved toward his mother. “Ruth Ann shared the horrors of her childhood with me in order to help me.”

“My poor, pitiful mother. She was only sixteen when she found out that she was pregnant with her father’s baby,” Charity said, her eyes glazed with madness. “I was that baby. I heard Mama and Grandma talking one day a couple of years ago. They thought they were alone in the house. They were discussing the night that Mama’s father died in a house fire.”

She looked from her two intended victims on the floor to Seth and Missy. “My grandmother poured gasoline on him while he slept that night, and she set him on fire. Finally, she did something to stop him. But it was too late then, too late for my mother and for me.”

Lifting the red can in one hand and the lighter in the other, Charity whirled around and shouted at Seth, “Don’t go near her. Once I have finished with John Earl Harper, I will bring down God’s wrath on Catherine Cantrell. I believed all women would be spared, but I now know that wicked women must be punished as well and your mother will be the first.”

“No—don’t even think about doing it,” Seth said.

“You don’t understand,” Charity told him. “I am following God’s instructions. He chooses the wicked ones to be punished and sends me to do His bidding.”

“Did you kill my father?” Missy asked.

“God’s angel of death killed Donnie Hovater.” She looked directly at Seth. “And Mark Cantrell and the others, too. Like my grandfather, who was also my father, all blasphemous men of God and wicked women must be punished. They cannot be allowed to continue their evil ways.”

Seth watched helplessly as Charity upended the red can, poured the remainder of the gasoline over Cathy and dropped the empty can on the floor.

 

Jack stood several feet behind Seth and Missy, keeping his presence unknown for the time being. He had already called for backup and instructed headquarters that emergency vehicles should silence their sirens when approaching the church. An ambulance had been dispatched, along with units from the Dunmore Fire Department.

As he moved in closer, he drew his Smith & Wesson. When he reached the doorway, he slipped to one side, his presence shielded by the wall. Seth glanced over his shoulder, and his gaze met Jack’s. Jack pressed his left index finger over his lips, issuing Seth a warning not to give him away. He knew how scared his son must be. Hell, he was scared out of his mind. He had to stop this pitiful young girl from harming anyone else. The thought of how close Cathy was to being set on fire frightened him more than anything ever had. He had faced down his stepfather’s wrath and taken his punishment. Often he had faced death on a daily basis as an Army Ranger. But if anything happened to Cathy, if she were badly hurt, if she died…

“Charity, please don’t do this,” Seth said, his voice quivering slightly.

That’s it, Son, keep talking to her. Keep her distracted.

Jack hated the thought of shooting a young girl, but he had to stop thinking of her as anything other than a threat to the woman he loved. He had been listening to the girl’s ravings and had come to the conclusion that Charity Harper was mentally unbalanced. Anyone capable of such brutal murders had to be either crazy or pure evil or a combination of both.

“Don’t try to stop me,” Charity told Seth. “I don’t want to hurt you. God doesn’t want any innocent souls harmed, but I must do His bidding.”

“God doesn’t want you to kill my mother,” Seth said. “She’s a good person, a good mother.”

“She’s a liar and a fornicator!”

Using both hands Charity flicked open the lighter. The flame burned high and bright, a red-orange golden glow. She quickly activated the flame lock mechanism.

Jack stared at the tiny oval flame shimmering at the tip of the lighter Charity held tightly as she waved it back and forth, first over John Earl and then over Cathy.

“Please, Charity, please…” Seth took a tentative step toward her.

“Don’t come any closer!” she screamed as she lowered the lighter toward her father.

Jack had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but he had no choice.

He lifted his weapon and zeroed in on Charity. When Missy saw him, she gasped silently, then eased up beside Seth, tugged on his arm and pulled him aside. When Jack shot Charity, she might drop the lighter, and there was a damn good chance it would set Reverend Harper on fire. There was only one chance to prevent that from happening.

Jack aimed and fired. “Seth, grab the lighter!”

The bullet hit its target—the center of Charity’s chest. She fell backward from the impact. Her eyes widened in shock as her body rebelled against the assault. She dropped to her knees, still clutching the lighter. She stared sightlessly at her father, then tossed the lighter toward Cathy as she crumpled to the floor, face down.

The lighter sailed straight toward Cathy.

Seth dove forward, his arm outstretched, his palm open.

Jack held his breath.

Realizing the lighter was a hairsbreadth from igniting the gasoline soaking her hair, skin and clothes, Cathy rolled backward against the desk.

Seth caught the lighter in his palm, then quickly snapped it shut and closed his fist around it.

Jack rushed into the room and clamped his hand down on Seth’s shoulder. When his son turned to him, he hugged the boy. Seth hugged him, and then they both knelt beside Cathy. Jack jerked the gag out of her mouth and untied her wrists as Seth untied her ankles.

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