Ruth nodded. “Maybe by taking the steps you mentioned, we’ll be able to do exactly that. But when I’m approached by students, parents, teachers—or, heaven forbid, the media—how should I respond?”
“Without using Jesse’s name, just tell the truth: that the sheriff is working to establish whether the rumor is true, or whether it’s a product of the student’s imagination, or an attempt to impress his peers. Beyond that, you have no comment. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I’m sure I can.”
“Good. Make it clear to your teachers that you’re the only one authorized to speak to the media. If they’re approached, they need to direct all inquiries to you.” Virgil looked over at Kevin. “Anything else you can think of?”
Kevin pursed his lips. “Maybe you could choose a group of trusted staff people to keep an eye on Jesse without him realizing it. They’d be able to spot any student or teacher who seems to have him cornered and could interrupt the conversation with some made-up excuse.”
“I’m sure I could arrange that,” Ruth said. “At least we don’t have to worry about strangers in the school. We screen people very carefully.”
Kevin folded his hands on the table. “That’s good to hear.”
“Sheriff, is Jesse’s situation putting my students in danger?” Ruth said. “I have a right to know that much.”
“I really don’t think so,” Virgil said. “If anyone’s in danger, it’s Jesse. Just to be on the safe side, I’ll be assigning two deputies to cruise the area around the school and keep an eye out for anything that doesn’t look right. But let me emphasize,” Virgil said, “that all of this is precautionary. I don’t perceive your students to be in any danger whatsoever. This is about Jesse.”
“Well, you have my full cooperation.” Ruth glanced at her watch and stood. “I will talk to Colleen as soon as she gets here. And I’ll make sure Jesse is transferred to a different second-period English class.”
Virgil went out the side door of the school, the sun now visible just above the horizon. He placed his hat on his head and walked back to his squad car, Kevin keeping stride.
“I hated having to withhold what we know from Ruth Arnold,” Virgil said.
“You did the right thing, Sheriff. And to be fair, we haven’t found any evidence to corroborate Jesse’s testimony, other than that Kleenex. Containing the rumor is our primary objective. I think we just might get it done.”
“When I tell Kate what we’re doing, her first impulse will be to transfer Jesse to a different school. I’ve got to convince her it won’t help.”
“Yeah, either way, the kid’s in for a real kick in the pants,” Kevin said. “Some of his peers will taunt him unmercifully when they question him about being an eyewitness and he tells them he’s not allowed to comment on an open investigation. We’ve got to convince him to stay strong and be consistent.”
“Let’s hope they get bored with it quickly and leave him alone.” Virgil pulled his keys out of his pocket. “But Jesse’s bound to lose some friends who feel they’ve been lied to.”
“Unfortunately, this thing could drag on for some time.” Kevin’s red hair caught a glint of sunlight. “We’re not even close to finding a suspect.”
“That’s why I want our sketch artist to try again to jog Jesse’s memory. And I want you to sit in on it. You’re the best we’ve got at that. Jesse’s a kid with twenty-twenty eyesight, who made eye contact with our man of interest from just fifty yards away. I’m not convinced we can’t get him to remember what the guy looked like.”
“Then again, he was sitting on a big school of crappie.” Kevin flashed a crooked grin. “I wonder how tuned in I’d be to some guy across the river if I’d found a spot like that.”
t
Liam was just about to clock in at the poultry plant when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then stepped out in the hall and put the phone to his ear.
“What’s up, Sis?”
“The sheriff has already been here,” Colleen said. “The principal moved Jesse to another English class. I’ve been instructed—which is just a polite word for forbidden—not to talk to Jesse. Can you believe it?”
“Sheriff Granger sure didn’t waste any time.”
“Liam, why would he go to all that trouble unless Jesse really saw what happened? Why are they so afraid I might find out what that is? What is the sheriff hiding from us?”
Liam felt as if his lungs were in a vise. Did the sheriff suspect him?
“Well, they can’t keep me from talking to Jesse,” she said. “I’m not going to just sit back and wonder what’s going on. I want answers!”
“Colleen, don’t,” Liam said. “Don’t jeopardize your career by talking to the kid. Give it time to play out. We have nothing to gain by defying the sheriff. He’s the one person we need to stay connected to.”
Colleen paused for several seconds, then exhaled into the receiver. “You’re right. I want answers five minutes ago, but that’s not the way the system works. We need to follow the sheriff’s instructions. He knows what he’s doing. I just wish I didn’t have this unsettling feeling that he’s hiding something.”
“Like I told you before, he’s just following department protocol.” Liam kept his voice steady, careful to hide the panic he felt.
“And in all fairness to the sheriff,” Colleen said, “he did listen to us. Even without an autopsy, he’s agreed to investigate Mom’s death as a murder.”
Or is it because of something Jesse told him? The pounding of Liam’s heartbeat seemed almost audible.
“Thanks for letting me vent,” Colleen said. “I wish I could stay as calm as you do. You remind me of Dad.”
“It’s just a guy thing. Take a deep breath,” Liam said, talking more to himself than to Colleen. “Do what the principal asked and don’t question the kid. We’ll talk more when I get home.”
Colleen exhaled. “Okay. I think I’m okay now. I need to sit here and gather my thoughts before the bell rings. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Liam disconnected the call, his hands shaking, and stuck his cell phone on his belt.
His mind raced in reverse through every detail of his mother’s drowning and the cover-up. Things had gone flawlessly. There was no way the sheriff would find any tangible evidence to charge him with murder. The only thing standing between him and his inheritance was the word of that kid.
The same dark feeling came over him that had engulfed him the night before. Mom’s attorney had nearly completed all the necessary steps for the dissolution of her trust, and Liam was just a couple weeks away from getting his one-hundred-and-seventy-five-thousand-dollar inheritance. How far was he willing to go in order to keep this Cummings kid from ruining everything he’d worked so hard to set in motion?
Chapter 15
Kate walked into Flutter’s Café at Angel View Lodge, the delicious aromas of fried bacon and warm bread filling her senses. She spotted Abby pouring coffee for Grandpa Buck and his friend Titus Jackson. Abby looked up and smiled, then walked over to her.
“There you are,” Abby said. “Elliot’s sitting over there by the glass wall. He already ordered for you. Breakfast should be up in just a couple minutes. I’ll get your coffee.”
“Thanks, honey,” Kate said.
“You look intense.”
“Do I?”
Abby’s smile faded and she seemed to study Kate’s face. “I know you’re freaked out about Jesse being a witness, but don’t be. This case isn’t high profile like when Daddy and Riley were missing. The media probably won’t even give it much attention.”
“Let’s hope.”
“Relax.” Abby nodded toward Elliot. “Go enjoy a few minutes with your sweetheart before you open the office.”
“I will.” Kate turned and walked to the table where Elliot was seated. He seemed
mesmerized by the sea of white fog blanketing Beaver Lake, which gave the illusion of being high above the clouds.
“Lost in the view?” Kate said.
Elliot flashed a perfect smile worthy of a toothpaste ad. “It has to be one of the most beautiful sights in the country. And it’s right here at Angel View Lodge. You and Micah were so wise to buy this property when you did. It’s sure prime.”
Kate sat at the table opposite Elliot and looked out at the postcard view she had never grown tired of.
“How’d you sleep?” he said.
“Not well. I’m probably overreacting to the whole thing with Jesse. But I’ve been through tragedies and near misses with every one of my children, not to mention my murdered husband. I’m worn out with it.”
“I know. That’s why we have to trust God.”
“I do. I think.” Kate sighed. “I’m trying. Let’s talk about something happy.”
“Okay … marry me.”
Kate looked into his gentle eyes and felt her heart sink. “I thought we agreed to put off this conversation until I feel ready to talk about it.”
Elliot took a sip of coffee. “You said to talk about something happy. I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.” Elliot reached across the table and took her hand. “Kate, I didn’t sleep well either, knowing you were all alone, wrestling with your fears. All I could think about was how much I wanted to lay beside you, hold you in my arms, and reassure you that everything’s going to work out. We’re better together than apart. You know it too.”
“I never said we weren’t. I just like things the way they are for now.”
“So is that a firm no?”
Kate smiled without meaning to. “For now. There’s plenty of time to have this conversation.”
“I don’t know, I just passed the half-century mark. I wouldn’t push the envelope, if I were you.”
Kate laughed. “Give me a break. You’re fit as a fiddle. You make it sound as if you have a long white beard and walk with a shuffle.”
Elliot’s eyes twinkled with delight. “I love it when you laugh. I just want to make you happy.”
Abby was suddenly standing beside the table pouring coffee. “Your breakfast is up next. What are you two lovebirds laughing about?”
“Lovebird things.” Elliot winked.
Abby looked at her mother, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I’m probably out of line to say this, but if you don’t marry this man, I’m going to take you in and have your head examined.”
Kate felt her cheeks get hot and glanced around the room, relieved that no one was staring at them. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
“But you’re the one who said I was wise beyond my years.” Abby giggled and took a step back. “I’m just sayin’ …”
Abby turned and started pouring coffee refills for the folks at the next table.
“Honestly, she’s just like her father,” Kate said, more amused than she wanted to admit.
“Really?” Elliot said, tongue in cheek. “Because I was thinking she’s just like you.”
t
Jesse sat in the middle row of Mrs. Richie’s second-period English class. When he had arrived at his first-period homeroom, he was told he needed to go see the principal. That’s when he learned he was being transferred out of Miss Berne’s class and was not to communicate with her.
He was aware of a number of students stealing glances at him. What were they thinking—that it was cool he was a witness to Dixie Berne’s murder? Or that he made it up to get attention? Either way, he just wanted to disappear.
Mrs. Richie had introduced him without explanation and said he was joining their class. But the gossip had already spread, and he figured every kid in the seventh grade had heard the exaggerated version that he could identify the man who had drowned Miss Berne’s mother.
The bell rang. Jesse breathed a sigh of relief, then grabbed his backpack, hurried out into the hallway, and almost ran into Bull Hanson, who grabbed his arm.
“Hey, slow down, man,” Bull said. “Where’ve you been? You weren’t at the flagpole yesterday after school.”
Jesse felt his cheeks burning. “I had to take the bus. If I’d met y’all, I’d have missed it.”
“How come I didn’t see you this mornin’? You’re always a few minutes early for school.”
“Not today. I was running late.” Jesse bit his lip as if that would conceal the lie. His bus had arrived fifteen minutes early, and he had walked behind the school, waiting until after the bell rang before going inside.
“How could you be runnin’ late if you rode the bus?” Bull said.
“Well, no. I mean, my mom drove me this morning. But I usually take the bus.” Jesse’s gut tightened. Could he keep track of all the lies?
“Look, man. You’re either in or you’re out. I did Dawson a favor by convincin’ the others to let you in the group. We’re tight. We do things together.”
Jesse looked up into Bull’s face, suddenly feeling very short.
“Be at the game Friday night.” Bull pushed his index finger into Jesse’s chest. “The team’s goin’ out for pizza afterwards. Come with us. If you’re gonna be part of us, we hafta get to know you.”
Jesse pasted on a phony smile. “Okay. Sure.”
Bull looked over at two guys standing outside the music room. “What’re you stooges starin’ at?”
“Nothing,” said the taller of the two, his face crimson. “Just waiting for someone to unlock the door.”
Bull went over to the kid who’d answered him and got up in his face. “You and your pal eavesdroppin’ on me?”
“I–I swear we weren’t, Bull. We just happened to be standing here. That’s it.”
“If one word of what I just said gets back to me, I’ll know where to find you.”
“We didn’t hear anything.”
“Keep it that way.” Bull turned around, snickering, and walked back over to Jesse. “Did you see the look on their faces?”
“I really don’t think they were eavesdropping,” Jesse said.
“That wasn’t the point. It’s about respect. No one messes with us. You’ll see.” Bull glanced at his watch. “I’ve gotta get to class. Think of Friday night as initiation night. You’re runnin’ with the big boys now, baby.”
Jesse met Bull’s gaze and faked a smile, then rushed down the hall toward his next class. How many guys would give anything for an invitation like that? But all Jesse could think about was how to find a legitimate excuse to get out of it.
t
Liam knocked and then walked into his supervisor’s office.
Marilyn Donovan looked up from her desk, the roots of her bleached hair matching the heavy mascara she wore. “What is it, Liam?”
“I should go home,” he said. “I’ve been throwing up and feel really bad. Must be a virus.”
Marilyn studied him. “You look a little green. Go on. You’ve got plenty of sick leave and I don’t want you passing it around. If you’re still puny in the morning, I need to know before seven thirty so I can get someone in here to take your shift.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you much since your mother died,” Marilyn said. “I heard on the news that the sheriff is now pursuing her death as a murder investigation. I’m sorry.”
Liam nodded.
“I appreciate the fact that you’ve been able to do your job. Can’t be easy right now.”
“No. But Colleen and I take a lot of comfort in the fact that she’s in a better place.”
“Still … it has to weigh on you.” Marilyn’s gaze was intrusive. “Let me know if you need a little time off. Or want to cut back on your hours for a while.”
“Thanks, but it helps to stay busy.” Liam put his hand over his
mouth. “Sorry, I’m feeling sick again.”
“Go,” Marilyn said. “Be good to yourself. Get some rest.”
Liam nodded, his hand clasped over his mouth, and ran out into the hall and into the men’s restroom. No one else was in there. He waited for about a minute and then headed down the hall and out of the plant. He had no intention of going home yet.
t
Jesse rested his head against the bus window and was nearly lulled to sleep when he heard his cell phone beep and saw that he had a text message from his mother.
Sheriff Granger is sending a sketch artist to the house at 4:00. Come straight home.
Jesse sighed. He wished he hadn’t gone fishing the morning of the drowning. It felt as if his entire life had been turned upside down ever since.
The bus stopped on Angel View Road where it intersected with Skyline Drive. Jesse put on his backpack and got off with the Moyer sisters, who walked in the opposite direction.
The scent of pine filled the crisp October afternoon and brought a smile to his face. He loved the outdoors, and Sure Foot Mountain was a giant playground of endless discovery. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in the city limits of Foggy Ridge.
Jesse started up Angel View Road, the only sound the rapid drilling of a woodpecker on a nearby tree. The hardwoods had just barely begun to turn, but they would be magically transformed in the next couple of weeks as autumn’s patchwork covered the hills.
Jesse heard a twig snap. He stopped and listened. Nothing. Probably a deer.
He started walking again and heard an unfamiliar whistling noise coming from the woods. What kind of bird was that? He slid out of his backpack and set it in the grass on the side of the road, then walked slowly toward the tree line, listening intently. He walked gingerly into the woods and looked around, but the only whistling he heard was the wind in the trees. He wanted to listen longer and try to determine what had made the interesting new sound, but remembered his mother had told him to come straight home.
Only by Death Page 12
