A Wish and a Prayer

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Would you be willing to say that on the stand at the hearing?”

  “I doubt my testimony will make much of a difference.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because once Genevieve Curry gets up and tells her story, it’ll all be over but the shouting. Cletus may have been protecting himself against Prell, but that hog has no business being in a household or trotted through town like a pet poodle. He’s mean, and he bites.”

  Quinn held up her bandaged hand. “I know.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “I do, but is that grounds for death?”

  Bernadine studied her silently. She hadn’t been expecting hard questions from such a nondescript little woman. “You’re serious about this issue, aren’t you?”

  “I am, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t care for Mr. Curry or his animal, but that doesn’t mean the county gets to put the hog down just because. I understand that a human life was lost, but would Mr. Prell be still alive if he hadn’t picked up that chair leg? From where I sit, the answer is probably yes.”

  Bernadine mulled that over. “Interesting. You’re a very impressive young woman, Ms. Quinn. What in the world are you doing working for FUFA?”

  She shrugged. “I have a thing for animal advocacy, and FUFA could be a genuine platform if it’s turned into an organization that’s respected.”

  “Is that your plan?”

  “It is. I’d always envisioned myself working for one of the big names, like Greenpeace or the World Wildlife Federation.”

  “They do great work.”

  “Yes, but because of their size, they don’t have time for small cases like Mr. Curry’s. I want FUFA to be there for people like him, and maybe in a few years, once we’re seen as legit, the public will be more inclined to support us financially.”

  “A worthy goal.”

  “I think so.”

  Bernadine had been prepared to dislike Heather Quinn. Instead she found herself wanting the young woman to succeed. “I wish you well.”

  “Thank you. Would it be okay if I passed out some flyers detailing our efforts on Mr. Curry’s behalf?”

  “I suppose, but be prepared for a backlash. He’s not well liked, and whatever you do, don’t give one to Genevieve Curry. It could be ugly.”

  “I’ve not met her. Pretty angry?”

  “Extremely, and with good reason. I assume you’ve seen the tape of what Cletus did to her home?”

  “No.”

  “I suggest you get a copy so you’ll know what you’re up against.”

  “Sheriff Dalton said the same thing.”

  “He knows what he’s talking about. He was one of the first responders the night Prell died.”

  “Okay. I’ll let our lawyer know.” She stood and pushed the ugly glasses back up her nose. “Thank you very much for your time. It’s been nice meeting you.”

  “Same here. Good luck on Monday.”

  “Thanks.” She exited as quietly as she’d arrived, leaving Bernadine with some food for thought. However, before she could further contemplate the idea of Cletus being the true victim in the Prell death, her phone sounded with a text message from Dr. Reg Garland, letting her know that he, Zoey, and Reverend Paula were at the airport in Hays and waiting on their luggage. Bernadine’s driver Nathan was already there, waiting to bring them home.

  She set the phone aside. She couldn’t wait to hear what Miss Z had to say about their trip. Reg and his superstar wife, Roni, had been experiencing a few bumps in their marriage due to Roni resuming her singing career. Bernadine hoped that their time together in Europe had helped get their love affair back on track. She was also looking forward to the return of the town’s new spiritual leader, Reverend Paula Grant. With all the drama Bernadine had faced over the past few days, Paula’s soul-settling advice and ready smile had been sorely missed.

  Lily buzzed her. “Hey.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I played back all the messages the media left last night, and that wacko is on here, threatening you again.”

  Bernadine’s heart stopped.

  “You don’t want to hear it. I’ve already called the sheriff.”

  Acknowledging her fear, but determined not to let it paralyze her, Bernadine got up and walked to Lily’s office. “Let me hear it.”

  “You know you don’t have to do this.”

  “Lily, play the tape.”

  The distorted voice came through the speakers with all the evilness she remembered. “Evening, Ms. Brown. How’s it feel being scared to death? Good, I hope. You and I are going to get together real soon, and I can’t wait.” The bone-chilling laugh ended the transmission, and she forced herself not to rub her hands over the frigid tremors running up her arms.

  “Sick bastard,” Lily snapped angrily and stopped the recording.

  Lord. “Dalton on his way?”

  “Yes.”

  Bernadine took in a deep, bracing breath. Her life was suddenly brimming over with worries and drama, issues and threats, and it wasn’t even Friday.

  Chapter 15

  After school, had Preston been privy to Bernadine’s thoughts, he would’ve heartily concurred. It had been a super long week in his world, too, and he still had Friday to go. By his estimation, they’d be done painting the Jefferson fence by tomorrow afternoon, but that was tomorrow. For now, they were still painting, and as he dipped his brush in the pan for what seemed like the millionth time, he swore to never do anything to put himself in this stupid position again. “I am never painting this fence again!” he yelled out in irritation.

  On the other side of the fence, Amari painted and grumbled, “Me either. This sucks.”

  “My hands look like they belong to a ghost. Probably be months before all this stuff washes off.”

  “When I grow up and get my own crib, I’m not having any white walls. I’m hating on white paint right now.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Not hating on Leah though, I’ll bet.”

  Preston paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Quit playing dumb. I heard what she said about you at lunch yesterday. You coughed so hard, I thought your eyes were going to pop off your face.”

  “Ignoring you, Amari,” Preston replied and moved to the next picket on his side.

  “Too late for that, my man. I’m your BFF.”

  Preston had to grin on that one. He was right. They were best friends, and it felt good knowing he had one.

  Amari stroked the slat on his side. “You like her, and now it looks like she likes you back.”

  “Maybe. Let’s not get it twisted.”

  “I understand. This girl thing is complicated. My dad says it only gets worse when you get older.”

  “You talk to him about stuff like this?”

  “Sure. I can talk to him about anything, at least so far.”

  “Must be nice.”

  This wasn’t the first time Preston had envied Amari’s relationship with Trent. From the very first day Preston came to town, he’d thought Trent July was special. He and Amari had both expressed the hope that Trent July would be their foster dad, but because each foster parent could only take one child, Amari and Trent’s love for cars made them an easy match, and Preston went with the Paynes.

  Amari was checking him out with the thoughtful look he always wore when family was concerned. “I’ve been telling you for years that you and the colonel are going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  Preston believed it, but then again he didn’t believe it, if that made any sense.

  Amari added, “You and Leah too.”

  They smiled at each other through the fence.

  “So what happened with Devon and this Flame thing? Did Miss Lily make you help?”

  “Of course, so as soon as we get off this wack lockdown, she said she’d find us a video to watch. My dad said this Brown guy was the shizzle back in the day and that Devon was right about Michael Jackson copying his moves. He said ever
y kid in America knew Brown’s dance moves when he and Mom and the OG were growing up.”

  “The OG, too?”

  “Yeah. I guess Brown would be just a little older than the OG if he was still alive.”

  “So we have to be Flames?” Preston asked disconsolately.

  “Yeah, but at least we don’t have to put lye in our hair.”

  Preston stopped in mid stroke. “Lye?”

  “You know, I think something is really wrong with Devon. He asked Mom if he could get a process.”

  “What’s that?”

  “From the way Dad explained it, it was something guys did to their hair back then to make it real straight.”

  “Sort of like a perm?”

  Amari stopped and seemed to think on that. “Yeah. I guess so. Mom and Dad tried to explain it to me, but I didn’t get it. They talked about lye and heat and curlers.”

  “Curlers? Devon wanted us to wear curlers!”

  “Told you. Something real wrong with him, Brain. Real wrong.”

  An appalled Preston agreed. He was liking this whole Flame business less and less.

  When the two hours were up for the day, they gathered their gear, stashed it in Ms. Marie’s garage, and washed up. Done, they grabbed their backpacks, hopped on their bikes, and pedaled toward home.

  To Preston’s surprise, Mrs. Payne was seated at the kitchen table. “Hey, Mrs. Payne.”

  “Hey back. You look tired. How’s the fence detail going?”

  “We should be done by tomorrow, hopefully. Do you think you can drive me and Amari over to the Franklin library Saturday morning so we can work on our papers?”

  “I can’t because of the groundbreaking, but I’m sure Barrett can. So have you found out who Euripides is?”

  “Yeah. He’s a Greek playwright.”

  “Very good. I know you all are grumbling because of the assignment, but I love the way Mr. James thinks.”

  “We don’t. What smells so good?”

  “Tomato sauce. We’re having spaghetti.”

  Her spaghetti was one of his favorites. “Where’s the colonel?”

  “Helping Bing with the planning for the parade. He should be here shortly. Something you want to speak to him about?”

  “Maybe, but it can wait.” He wanted to have a father-son talk, or at least that was his plan, even if he wasn’t sure it was a good one.

  “Okay. Go get your shower, and when you come back, we’ll eat.”

  The spaghetti was off the hook. Because he was starving, he ate two big platefuls along with a salad and some garlic bread. And as he sat back, content and full, he once again noted how much better life was now than the one he’d had in foster care.

  The colonel arrived home a short while later, and the discussion at the table ranged from the parade to the FUFA demonstrators to a news story Mrs. Payne had seen earlier about a young woman in Australia discovering the whereabouts of the universe’s missing matter.

  Preston’s eyes popped. “Really?” Scientists had been trying to find the location for ages. “And she’s an intern, not a real physicist yet?” he asked. That was so awesome that a young person had been able to do something the big guys hadn’t.

  “She’s a twenty-two-year-old undergrad student at the University of Melbourne, studying aerospace engineering and science,” Mrs. Payne said, apparently enjoying his reaction.

  “That is so awesome.”

  The colonel said, “Explain this missing matter thing, Preston.”

  Preston was so excited all he wanted to do was run upstairs to his computer and read everything he could find about the discovery, but then he remembered he was on punishment. He couldn’t even call Leah to ask if she’d heard about it. Man! Swallowing his disappointment, he launched into a kiddie version of why the news was so important. “Science knows there’s a bunch of matter left over from the beginning of the universe, but nobody’s been able to find it.”

  “So is this the dark matter I sometimes hear you and Leah talking about?”

  “No,” he said. “This is the regular kind. Mrs. Payne, did the news say how she did it?”

  “Something to do with X-rays, I believe.”

  “Wow. I wonder where she found it?”

  “Galaxy filaments?” she responded, sounding unsure.

  “Man, I sure wish I could use my computer—hint, hint.”

  The colonel lifted his glass of water. “Hint acknowledged and ignored.”

  Preston looked down at his plate, but rather than feel sorry for himself, he smiled. That Mrs. Payne had taken the time to listen to the news story and tell him about it meant a lot; that said she cared. “Thanks for knowing I like this kind of stuff.”

  She nodded. “That’s a good parent’s job, right, Barrett?”

  “Right.”

  It was Preston’s day to do dishes, so after the meal Mrs. Payne went to her office to work on details for the groundbreaking, and he loaded the dishwasher while the colonel put away the leftovers. They talked about the day, his term paper, and that Ms. Brown had received another nasty call. “I hope they catch this person soon.”

  “So do I.”

  Preston closed the dishwasher door and started it up. “Can we go out on the deck and talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  They stepped outside. The colonel took a seat at the glass-topped table, but Preston remained standing, leaning back against the wooden rail.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Girls.”

  The colonel appeared slightly amused. “And what about them?”

  “How do you figure out what they mean when they say stuff?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea, but give me an example.”

  He told the colonel about what Leah had said at lunch yesterday.

  “How’d it make you feel?”

  “After I finished sucking on my inhaler, I felt really good.”

  “So you like her?”

  “I do. She’s so smart. She’s fun, and she knows how to stand up for herself.”

  “And catches a pretty mean pass.”

  Preston agreed. During the football game last Thanksgiving between Henry Adams and the team made up of the Oklahoma Julys, Henry Adams had taken a butt kicking and lost badly, but Leah had scored twice on two long touchdown passes from Trent. “I think I want to ask her to be my girlfriend, but I never had one before, so I’m not sure how to do it.” Preston thought that over for a moment. “And what if she says, ‘No, get away from me, fool’?”

  “That’s always on the table when you deal with women, but no guts, no glory. You know?”

  Preston supposed he was right. “How did you know Mrs. Payne was the one?”

  “Couldn’t eat or sleep without thinking about her. Always wanted to know what she was doing, or where she was. Heart would speed up whenever she looked at me.”

  “That’s sorta how I feel about Leah.”

  “Then do something for me?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Whoever winds up being the one for you, don’t take her feelings for granted and treat her like I did Mrs. Payne.”

  Preston nodded. “Are you two okay? You aren’t going to get a divorce or anything, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because if you did, I’d probably have to move to another foster home, and I kinda like it here.”

  “And I like having you here.”

  Preston wanted that to be the truth so badly.

  As if he’d read his mind, the colonel added, “I really do. As for Leah? I say, go for it.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “I’d like that, too.”

  Preston felt some of the stress lessen inside. “This wasn’t so bad.”

  “You mean the two of us talking?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think it went pretty well. We won’t ever be Trent and Amari, but we can be Barrett and Preston, and who knows, I may even learn enough about p
hysics to hold a decent conversation with you about it someday soon, so tell me more about this missing matter.”

  Bernadine got a late-night call from Kyle Dalton. Her tormentor had made this latest call from a pay phone at a campground up near Riverton, a small town north of Henry Adams.

  “Place has no security cams, and it’s located right off the highway, so still no way of knowing who our perp is.”

  More disappointment.

  “I’ll ride up there in the morning and take a look around. No word as of yet on the tape.”

  Frustration made her sigh. “Okay, Kyle. Thanks.”

  “Sorry I don’t have better news, but you’re welcome. Oh, and I’m no longer attached to the Bureau. All my paperwork’s cleared, so I’m officially a county deputy, but I’m based in Ellis. Nepotism laws won’t let me work under Dad.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “I start next week, so I’ll be backing off your case. Dad’ll be updating you from now on.”

  “Good to know, but keep in touch.”

  “Will do, and sorry again for calling so late, but I figured you wanted to hear what we found out about the call.”

  “I did, no apology needed. Keep me posted.”

  “Of course. Good night, Ms. Brown, and try not to worry. Law enforcement will find whoever the caller is. I promise.”

  “Thanks. Good night.”

  After the call ended, she lay there in the dark and hoped he was right.

  Chapter 16

  By Friday morning, Rocky had had it up to her eyebrows with all the visitors in town; the sooner they all disappeared, the sooner she could stop fuming. At the top of her list of the things working her last nerve were the FUFAs. After being given permission to pass out their leaflets in support of Cletus yesterday, they’d descended on the Dog like a biblical plague and proceeded to give her and the staff fits with their demands to know where her meat was processed, why there was no vegetarian menu, and why they couldn’t take over some of the booths in the back to have a strategy meeting. Many of them were rude to the servers, tipped like pennies were dollars, and were constantly sending dishes back to the kitchen because “this doesn’t taste right.” She wanted to smack them all—especially the ones wearing the pig masks.