by DeLeon, Jana
“It’s okay,” Shaye said. “I know exactly what you mean. And thank you. It’s been difficult, but my mom and I are moving forward.”
“That’s all you can do, right?”
Shaye nodded, even though his statement wasn’t true at all. Plenty of people, when faced with horrible circumstances, never moved forward again. Some sank into a depression that lasted a lifetime. Some decided that the role of perpetual victim was to their liking and remained cemented within it. But she didn’t see any reason to point that out to Croft, who’d probably never considered himself wrong.
He studied her intensely and Shaye knew he was trying to figure out why she was there and what she could possibly want from him. Hoping to set him off-kilter just a bit, she remained silent during his scrutiny.
“How can I help you?” he asked, curiosity finally getting the better of him.
“It’s a case I’m working. It’s rather a long shot and I feel bad asking for your time on it when I know how busy you are, but if it turns out you could have helped and I didn’t ask…”
A flash of uncertainty passed over his expression but he recovered quickly. “Of course. Whatever I can do.”
Shaye launched into the tale of her client and the missing handbag. She could see Croft visibly relax as she talked. He’d probably been afraid her investigation was along the cheating husband lines—she’d heard those rumors forever along with the shady business practice ones. But a stranger forgetting her handbag was completely innocuous.
“One of the church workers said they were pretty sure you came out of the cathedral that afternoon shortly after my client left, so I just wanted to know if you saw anyone.”
He nodded, now completely relaxed. “I’m sorry for your client. The handbag can be replaced but the bracelet, while of no marketable value, was significant to her. It’s a tragedy that it’s lost.”
Shaye frowned. The sincerity and empathy in his voice was so convincing it gave her pause. If she didn’t know this man, she would swear it was genuine.
He caught her expression and gave her a small smile. “I know what you’re thinking—the barracuda of business has a heart. I know what my reputation is and I’m sure you’ve heard plenty, as I ran in the same circles as your grandfather. But sometimes something happens that changes your perspective.”
“That’s true. May I ask what changed yours?”
“I found out I had a daughter. Six years old. My wife, of course, was far less than pleased. We’re currently separated. Working on things, but I’m afraid I have a lot of sins to overcome.”
“You weren’t aware of the child before now?”
He shook his head. “The woman was married—here in town on business for the weekend. I never heard from her again. Until two months ago.” He stared out the window, his expression becoming sad.
“She contacted me because the girl was ill. She needed a kidney transplant and none of her family was a match. It was during the testing that the woman realized the child wasn’t her husband’s. Unfortunately, her husband realized it as well.”
“That must have been hard on her.”
“I’m sure it was but when she contacted me, her sole focus was ensuring our daughter lived. She wanted me to get tested…to see if I could be a donor. At first, I was so shocked, I couldn’t even answer.”
Shaye nodded. “That was a lot to process in one conversation.”
“It was, and at first, I was hesitant. I know it sounds awful, but I knew there was no way to keep this hidden. All of my sordid behavior had just walked up and slapped me in the face, and I’m ashamed to admit that I considered ignoring her altogether. Then I saw the picture. It was me. The features were feminine but the eyes, the smile… I couldn’t deny that she was my child. I knew if there was anything I could do to save her, I had to do it.”
“Were you a match?”
“Yes. I had the test done before telling my wife, but when I came back as a match, I knew it was time to lay it all out. She took it badly but she didn’t disagree with my decision. We’d never wanted children, you see. But when I looked at my daughter, I wondered if we’d made a mistake.”
“And did the transplant work?”
He shook his head and Shaye could see tears forming in his eyes. “Her body didn’t accept my kidney. She had the best doctors—I made sure of that—but in the end, there was nothing they could do. I was at her side when she drifted away.”
Shaye’s chest tightened. How heartbreaking it must have been. First, to find out you had a child you never thought you wanted, then to find out she was horribly ill. Then to risk your marriage, go through the surgery, and lose her anyway. That was a lot for one person to deal with in a short amount of time. Croft’s personality switch now made sense.
“I’m so sorry,” Shaye said. There were really no other words to say.
“Thank you. I hear it a lot, but you know more than most about personal tragedy and loss. People’s sympathy shouldn’t have rank, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.”
Shaye nodded. She understood exactly what he meant. Sympathy over loss was the norm but when you knew someone had suffered something similarly tragic, it somehow hit you harder.
“Anyway,” he said, straightening in his chair as part of an attempt to pull himself back together. “You didn’t ask to see me to hear about all my failings and sorrow. I don’t recall seeing a woman in the cathedral when I was there, but I was up front to light a candle and I close my eyes during prayer. It’s possible she could have come and gone during that time.”
“And afterward, did you see anyone else that you could identify well enough for me to question?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I was in my own head. I know there were lawn people in the courtyard. I remember hearing the equipment, but I couldn’t tell you what any of them looked like.”
He studied Shaye for a moment and suddenly, everything felt slightly off. “Are you a religious person, Ms. Archer?”
Shaye didn’t share her personal beliefs on anything unless she knew someone intimately. But the question was odd, and the look on Croft’s face was a little too intense. Too focused.
“I don’t practice any religion,” she said, avoiding a direct answer.
“You should. We all have sins to atone for. We do things every day thinking ‘it doesn’t really matter’ or ‘no one will get hurt’ but that’s not the truth. The truth is that every sin takes away a little more of our humanity. It drives a larger wedge between us and our relationship with God. The sinful are ruining our society.”
“I thought everyone sinned.”
“Of course. But surely you agree that some sin is worse than others. Like sin that puts children at risk. We can agree on that, can’t we?”
Shaye chose her words very carefully. “I think it is particularly evil for someone to prey on those who are weaker. Children certainly fall into that realm.”
“So many women have children and fail to protect them. Worse, they invite evil in with their choices of drugs and prostitution and the random men they allow access. Those women are not mothers. They’re conduits of abuse and neglect. They’re Satan’s vessels.”
As he spoke, his expression grew more intense, more manic, and Shaye felt her discomfort grow as he talked.
“It sounds like you’ve found your passion,” Shaye said. “Perhaps you would be interested in donating to my mother’s organization. She’s going to be doing some great things for the very children you’re talking about.”
“Absolutely! I’ve been following Corrine’s organization work on her website. I’m prepared to make a rather substantial commitment each year toward continued operation.” He leaned forward and locked eyes with Shaye. “But sometimes, we’re called to do more than just write a check, don’t you think?”
“We do what we can with what we have.”
He nodded. “Exactly. And that’s what I’m doing. Everything I can with what I have. I knew you’d understand. Your work is a
calling, is it not?”
“Some would see it that way.”
“How do you see it?”
“For me, it’s like breathing. It’s simply part of who I am.”
The buzz of the phone startled her a bit and Croft looked at it and frowned.
“Mr. Croft,” the receptionist’s voice sounded over the speaker. “The clients are waiting on you for the meeting. Conference room 1.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. Please make sure my jet is ready to leave in two hours,” he said as he rose. “I’m sorry to end our conversation. I feel like you would have a lot to say about the power of evil in today’s society. I’m leaving this evening for New York, but perhaps we can schedule a lunch next week when I return. I’d love to talk longer.”
“Sure,” Shaye said, and handed him her card. “If you think of anything else that might help my client, please give me a call.”
He clasped her hand in both of his and looked her directly in the eye. “God will protect you as long as you keep doing his work.”
She nodded and made her way out of his office. On a bookshelf next to the door, she noticed that amid the law books was a stack of Bibles and other religious texts. A crucifix lay on top of one of the Bibles. She hurried out of the office, forcing a smile and a wave at the receptionist as she traversed the lobby. Even when she was inside her SUV, the overwhelming urge to flee was still present.
She put the vehicle in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, headed for her favorite outdoor café. She needed sunlight and to be surrounded by normal people doing normal things. Right now, she was too jittery to think. Too unnerved to focus.
Croft could be the penitent.
He clicked on his mouse to close the article he’d been reading. The mighty Shaye Archer. Savior of the regular people. In her own category of calling, he had to admit that she was excellent at what she did. She identified evil and brought it to light, and that was something he immensely appreciated. It was a skill set that was needed, and the world could use more of Shaye Archer in that regard.
But she didn’t save souls.
He could offer sinners eternal salvation. God had told him how. He’d guided him through the process of choosing the sinner. Then he coaxed the sinner into confession and repentance. And that was when he saved them. Because he knew that given an opportunity, sinners went right back to their old ways. But he offered them eternal life.
Death immediately after repenting was the only way.
Saving lives was an honorable profession, but saving souls was God’s work. And God had called him personally. He wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that.
Not even Shaye Archer.
14
Jackson looked up from his computer and motioned to Grayson. “Come look at this.”
Grayson pushed his chair across the walkway to Jackson’s desk and looked at the monitor. “Michael Pitre,” he said when he saw the background check. “You got a feeling about the father?”
“I don’t know. When we talked to the parents, something felt off to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.”
“Looks like an assault arrest for attacking a man at his place of employment,” Grayson said.
“Yeah. This Nathan Greer didn’t want to press charges as he wasn’t injured. Apparently Pitre can’t fight. Based on the police report of injuries to Pitre, he caught the worst of it, but three witnesses said Pitre clearly threw the first punch.”
“Any note on what the fight was about?”
“No. And I couldn’t find a correlation between their places of business, but when I checked the home address for the Greer, I found something interesting…it was the same neighborhood where Pitre used to live.”
“Okay. So some fight over barking dogs or parking on the street?”
Jackson clicked over to another report and pointed. “Greer had a fifteen-year-old daughter. She disappeared a year ago. The fight happened two months before. And look at this.”
He clicked onto the internet and pointed to the Instagram account he’d found for Hailey Pitre. “That is Melissa Greer with Hailey Pitre. See the caption?”
“‘Besties.’” Grayson blew out a breath. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like any of it. Pitre didn’t think the fact that his daughter’s best friend went missing just a year ago was something he should mention? That stinks so bad I could smell it in Utah.”
“No doubt. Did you pull the file on the missing girl?”
“Got it printed out.”
“Good. You can read it while we go to chat with Mr. Greer.”
Jackson nodded. “Maybe get some dirt on Pitre that we can use to break him.”
“That’s the idea.” Grayson rose from his chair and grabbed his keys from his desk. “Did you make a note of the employer? He’ll probably be at work.”
Jackson took a picture of his screen with his phone. “Got it and the home address, too.”
Traffic was light and it was a quick drive to the manufacturing plant in the Seventh Ward where Greer worked. They headed inside, showed the receptionist their ID and asked to speak to a manager. The fact that the badge didn’t even elicit so much as a raised eyebrow made Jackson wonder if she was used to cops visiting her place of employment or if her comfort level was on a personal basis.
She made a call and a couple minutes later, a harried-looking middle-aged man with a spare tire around the middle and a balding spot on the back of his head hurried into the lobby. He introduced himself and shuffled nervously. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Not with the business,” Grayson said. “We’d like to speak to an employee of yours and wanted to keep it quiet, which is why we didn’t announce it at reception.”
“Which employee?” the manager asked.
“Nathan Greer,” Grayson said. “He’s not in any trouble. We are hoping he can help us with some information about a person who lived near him a year ago.”
The manager visibly relaxed. “Of course. He’s on the line. I’ll go get him. There’s an empty room just down the hall on the right that we use for interviews. You can speak with him in there.”
He hurried off and Jackson and Grayson headed down the hall and located the room. About five minutes later, Nathan Greer entered, clearly uncomfortable. Grayson introduced them and asked him to take a seat at the table. Jackson and Grayson sat across from him.
“We’re hoping you can provide us with some information,” Grayson said.
“About what?” Greer asked.
“Who,” Grayson said. “Michael Pitre.”
Greer sneered. “What’s that asshole done now? Hit somebody else he didn’t agree with?”
“Is that what your fight was about?” Grayson asked.
“Not exactly,” Greer said. “Before the day he showed up here and started a fight, I’d never met the guy. His problem was with my daughter. He said she was leading Hailey down a path of unrighteousness.”
“That’s interesting phraseology,” Jackson said.
“His words, not mine,” Greer said. “The guy was a nut. My Melissa was a good girl…is…” His voice broke, and Jackson’s heart went out to the man. His daughter had never been found.
“I’m really sorry about Melissa,” Jackson said. “The case is still open and I know the detectives assigned to it. They’re doing everything they can.”
Greer nodded. “Yeah, that’s what they say, but I know the score. After all this time, Melissa’s dead and if she’s not, then even worse things have happened to her.”
“Did Pitre mention anything specific when he complained about Melissa?” Grayson asked.
“He was ranting about them talking to boys,” Greer said. “What fifteen-year-old girl doesn’t talk to boys? We all had crushes at that age. It’s normal.”
“It is,” Jackson agreed. “But we’ve gotten the impression that Mr. Pitre’s expectations for his daughter are somewhat outside of the norm.”
G
reer nodded. “Like I said. He’s a nut.”
“Did you talk to Melissa about what happened?” Grayson asked.
“Bet your ass I did,” Greer said. “She said Pitre had come to school to speak to a teacher the day before. Hailey didn’t know he was going to be there. He saw the two of them talking to some boys in the hall and made a real scene. Dragged Hailey out of the school and took her home. Called my daughter and the boys some pretty nasty things. One of the teachers was going to call the cops, but Pitre left.”
“That’s a frightening overreaction,” Grayson said.
“Yeah,” Greer agreed. “I told Melissa that she needed to steer clear of Hailey. I hated to punish the girls for something Pitre did, but I didn’t want any more trouble.”
Jackson leaned in a bit. “When your daughter disappeared, did you wonder if Pitre was involved?”
“Of course,” Greer said. “Wouldn’t you? But the cops said he had a solid alibi. He was home with his wife and kid all night. Two neighbors saw him mowing his lawn late that evening.” He scowled. “I still think he could have done something. I mean, Melissa said she was going to one of her other girlfriends’ houses after school. They were supposed to be watching movies with some other friends and Melissa was spending the night.”
“She never arrived at any of her friends’ homes?” Jackson asked.
Greer shook his head. “She could have been taken before dark. Pitre’s a salesman. He roams around the city all day.”
Jackson nodded. Pitre’s job gave him opportunity but not necessarily a great one. He would have had appointments he had to make, and the detectives investigating would have ensured that he’d done so. And there was a lot of difficulty in snatching a teen off the street in broad daylight. Still, it wasn’t completely impossible. Pitre could have been clever about it or simply gotten lucky.
Greer cocked his head to the side and looked from Grayson to Jackson. “Why are you asking me all this stuff now? Those other detectives are still assigned to the case. You said so yourself.”
“Hailey Pitre has disappeared,” Grayson said.
