by V. B. Tenery
A collective groan erupted from the older kids. A skinny kid with braces yelled from the back seat, “It ain’t rocket science.”
Ian ignored him.
Ian’s interaction with the children made the trips to and from church fun. The kids gave him a hard time, but they adored him. He would be missed when he returned to Mexico.
Ian spread his feet apart, bracing himself against the bus’s motion. “The rules are as follows. Two Bibles start at the back of the bus, one on each side, and must pass through the hands of every child, no skipping the younger kids. No throwing the Bible, or the younger kids.”
This brought peals of laughter from the kids.
“The team whose Bible is first to reach the last child on the front row wins. And what coveted prizes do the winners get? A Jaguar?”
A loud “no” filled the bus.
“A flat-screen TV?”
Another shout of, “No.”
“Who can tell me what this wonderful prize is?”
A small hand went up in the back. “Little Tootsie Rolls.”
Ian laughed and applauded. “Yes, and, Annie, for your superior wisdom, you just won two.”
More groans and laughter.
From pass the Bible they went to which side could sing “Jesus Loves Me” the loudest. When the trip ended, exhausted, Emily smiled as the last smiling child left the bus with a handful of candy.
When the bus doors closed, Ian sat next to Emily behind the driver. “Want to grab a bite to eat here in town? We’ve missed lunch at home, and we have to be back at church by six o’clock.”
“Sounds like a winner.”
“What’ll it be? Something elegant and expensive or fast and filling?”
“Is there anything elegant and expensive in Twin Falls?”
He leaned back against the seat and stretched his legs out. “Not to my knowledge, but I just arrived in your fair city.”
“Then I guess it’s fast and filling.”
Back at the church, they got into Ian’s rented Jaguar Sedan and drove to a Taco Shack. They took their food and drinks to a seat at one of the windows.
Emily studied Ian across the narrow table. “Is this anything like your ministry in Mexico?”
He swallowed and shook his head. “No bus ministry there. No buses for the most part. We don’t have any problem getting parents to come to church with their children. It’s rather sad, really. Here in America you have the most educated generation ever. They can tell you anything you want to know about sports, fashion, or Hollywood stars, but they know little or nothing about the Bible.”
She nodded. “Intelligent but lacking in wisdom. When are you going back to the field?”
“As soon as Jack McKinnon’s trial is over. I wanted to see it through. Although things are pretty unsettled in Mexico right now. If the situation there improves, I’d like to have you visit my ministry. I’d see that you were properly chaperoned.”
She picked at her food with the plastic fork. “I’d like to do that later. Like you, I want to see the trial through. I visited Jack when you dropped me off for my meeting with Matt. I didn’t have much time with him, but I’m more convinced than ever he wasn’t involved, much less, that he’s the killer. The heartbreak in his eyes over Victoria’s death wasn’t faked. He’s hurting, and not for himself. I don’t think Matt Foley is convinced of his guilt, either.”
“What makes you think so?”
“He’s still asking questions, and he hasn’t handed the case over to the DA.”
“You know this for a fact?”
Taking one last bite, she pushed the food away. “Sara mentioned it Friday.”
“Well, the media is convinced. They’re screaming for his blood. It’s a good thing you don’t have vigilantes anymore.”
Emily leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands. “My heart breaks for Sean. Every time he tries to leave his apartment, someone sticks a camera or microphone in his face. Guilt by association. He’s never had to deal with anything like this. I check on him every day, to make sure he’s okay. I wish he had stayed on at Grayson Manor. The press couldn’t get to him there.”
Ian piled their leftover food and napkins on the tray. “Yes, about the only place the media doesn’t follow us is to church.”
“I hope Matt can prove Jack is innocent. If he gets life or the death penalty, it will destroy Sean. I don’t think he could bear it.”
Grayson Manor
Twin Falls, Texas
Emily got what she wanted—to be involved in finding her mother’s killer. That didn’t stop her conscience from pricking on the drive home from the evening church service. What Matt asked could technically be called stealing. Even though she would be replacing the hairbrush with a new one.
She and Ian pulled through the gates at Grayson Manor. The sight made her stomach quiver because of what she planned to do. Matt’s request had to be important or he wouldn’t have asked. Did he want to check the DNA? And why? Surely he didn’t think Alex capable of killing his parents. It seemed a stretch.
Even more important, whatever would she tell Alex if he found her in his room?
Never mind that now. At present, she had to find out what type of hairbrush or comb the man used.
When they entered the house, Perkins told them Alex had gone out. Ian gave a departing wave and went to the library to study for Wednesday’s sermon.
She mounted the stairs and hurried down the corridor to the master suite. Funny, she hadn’t been in this room since childhood. She and Victoria had sneaked in to check out Ann’s closet. Giggling, they had pranced around the room in Ann’s high heels. The memory made her eyes sting. The closet door stood ajar, Alex’s rather meager wardrobe had replaced Ethan and Ann’s clothing.
Everything else in the room remained the same. Undoubtedly, Alex would make changes if he decided to stay. And if he didn’t? That thought brought fresh pain. She couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing Perkins and Sean again.
The brush lay in plain sight on the bathroom dressing table. She picked it up and examined both sides.
Great. She’d never seen one like it—tortoise shell with a grooved handle. It looked expensive. With his thick curly hair, he probably needed a special model. To be safe, she took pictures of both sides with her cell phone. Good luck finding a replacement. She’d just have to shop until she found one.
Had he purchased it from his barber? That would be something to check out. Might require a trip into Dallas. If he bought it in Australia, she might never find a duplicate.
When she completed the mission, Matthew Foley would owe her, big time.
Making sure everything was as she found it, she scurried to the door, and stepped into the hallway. A glance at the stairway stopped her in her tracks. Alex walked into the vestibule. He hung his jacket in the entryway closet before he headed toward the stairway. Obviously on the way to his room.
She swallowed the panic in her throat and stepped back into the bedroom, knocking over a large ceramic urn. Her hand reached to catch it, but missed. Thick carpet kept the vase from breaking, but not from making a loud thump. Probably not as loud as it sounded in her ears—just nerves and her overactive imagination. With a whispered prayer of thanks, she set the urn upright.
Footsteps drew closer and her mind raced wildly for a plausible excuse to be there. Her feverish brain locked onto an idea. She raced back to the bedside nightstand, grabbed the first book her hand touched and rushed back to the door.
Alex stepped inside. His eyes widened in surprise. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the closed door, blocking her exit. A smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “Well, to what do I owe the honor?”
Her heart tripped into fast rhythm, and she clutched the book to keep her hand from trembling. She assumed what she hoped looked like a nonchalant pose. “Hi, Alex, you startled me. I just stopped in to borrow one of Ann’s books. I hope you don’t mind.”
He didn’t move away from t
he door. “Not at all. Nothing in the library downstairs that suited your fancy?”
She willed her voice to remain calm, and smiled. “Mostly stuffy classics downstairs. I wanted something light to read. Ann loved romance novels.” She held up the book in her hand.
He sounded a deep chuckle, stepped aside, and opened the door. “Anytime you feel the need for romance, little Emily, you’re welcome in my room.”
Was he flirting with her?
Trying to keep her pace unhurried, she stepped into the hallway and strolled to her room. Once inside, she leaned against the door, hyperventilating. James Bond she wasn’t.
After her nerves settled down, she changed into slacks and joined Ian in the library.
He smiled when she entered. “I’m thinking about going for a walk. Perhaps you could show me around the estate. I haven’t had an opportunity to see the grounds since I arrived.”
“It’s almost dark out, but I can give you a short tour. Let me grab a jacket, and you’re on.”
As she came back downstairs, Ian stood in the vestibule. Dressed in jeans, turtleneck sweater, and a blue windbreaker with “Jesus Saves” on the back, he looked younger, almost like a college student.
“Shall we walk, ride bikes, or ride horses?” she asked.
“Walk. Unless you intend to take me around the entire estate.”
She laughed. “No, we’ll stick to the lighted paths.”
They strolled through the garden and wound up at the gazebo. Ian dusted a bench off with a handkerchief. “Have you gotten past the fright of your near abduction?”
She brushed her hair from her face. “Mostly. I don’t let myself dwell on it, just pray for God’s protection.”
Ian nodded. “God didn’t give us the spirit of fear. But that isn’t always easy to remember. And the job, how is it working out for you?”
“I’m enjoying the children. It helps keep my mind off...” She hesitated letting her gaze shift to the garden. “That’s the reason I took the position in the first place. Keeps me so busy I don’t have time to think. How about you, Ian? Your loss was as great as mine.”
He glanced down at the toe of his boots, then back up at her. “It’ll get easier in time. Like you, keeping busy at Seth’s church takes me out of myself. It’s a little known fact that serving others solves most of our own problems. The process takes time, but it works. Nights are the worst.”
She turned her gaze back to him. “Ann told me you were married.”
A smile came into his eyes. “Yes, Beth, short for Bethany. The perfect missionary wife. Her father had been a missionary, so she knew about the exotic countries and hardship of being in the field. No malls, buying meat in open-air markets filled with flies. Antiquated laundry equipment, and having your clothes stolen off the clothesline.” He laughed. “Then seeing someone wearing your shirt or dress at church next Sunday.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head and held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. Beth and I were married six years.”
“Ann said she died in an accident in Japan.”
His face reflected the loss, still fresh, but his smile told her the memories were good ones. “Yes, four years ago. She had gone shopping with the other wives while I preached at a mission conference in Tokyo. A bullet train de-railed.”
“I’m sorry. You must miss her terribly.”
“I do. As I said, nighttime is the worst. We had those six great years. Some people never have that.”
She leaned forward and looked into his eyes. “Ever since Ann began to talk about you, I’ve wondered why you gave up everything to become a preacher. I know the prestige that comes with having a title in England. It’s something most men would envy. What made you do it? A Dr. David Livingston complex?”
He considered the question for a moment then gave a slight shrug. “Yes, I suppose that’s part of it. I just saw all the things I had, when so many in the world had nothing. I wanted to help them to at least find spiritual riches. That, and the pomp and ceremony of royalty never appealed to me. With men being beheaded by terrorists and all the other problems in the world, it seemed ... superficial.”
Ian leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “Now, there’s something I want to ask you, Emily. I hope you won’t think I’m prying.”
She smiled. “If I think you’re out of line, I’ll tell you.”
He leaned back on the stone bench, and folded his arms across his chest. “What were you doing in Alexander’s room today?”
County Jail
Twin Falls, Texas
As she waited for Jack McKinnon to show, Judge Judith Bittermann passed the time in the attorney/client meeting room studying the small area. As such facilities went, this one was clean and bright, painted a robin’s egg blue with dark blue chairs and a synthetic table, bolted to the floor that would sit between her and her client. There were two entrances into the room, one on her side and one on the opposite side that the guard would bring McKinnon through.
She had misgivings about taking this case. Although she had adjudicated many murder trials, she hadn’t defended a client in a murder trial in forty years. Was she up to a case like this one with all the cards stacked against the client? She’d make her final decision after she spoke to the boy. At her age, she had the luxury of taking only those cases she felt deserved her attention.
Judith thumbed through the discovery file the DA had provided, and it didn’t look good. Having the murder weapon in his possession was the most damaging evidence the prosecution had, but it was more than enough. The best thing in his favor was the lack of motive. Unmarried girls became pregnant all the time. Hardly a reason to murder an entire family.
It was twenty minutes before the jailor brought Jack McKinnon in and secured his hands then shackled him to the chair. This was Judith’s first meeting with the accused and although he was getting a prison pallor, he was still unusually handsome. She could understand how he had turned the head of Victoria Grayson. Now, his face was a stoic mask as he leaned back in the chair opposite her.
“Hi, Jack. My name is Judith Bittermann, and I’ve come to talk to you about your defense against the state’s charges.”
He tilted his head to one side and gave her a quizzical glance. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you were a federal judge. Why would you want to take my case?”
She took a yellow legal pad and a pen from her briefcase and laid them on the table. “I’m not sure that I will defend you. It’s something we will both decide before I leave here today. I’ve watched both interrogation tapes so I won’t ask you to repeat it today. I know your explanation of how you came to have the gun and there seems to be some evidence to back up your story. But I do have one question. Before I ask, I want to assure you that if I become your attorney, anything you tell me I cannot repeat. What we discuss is just between the two of us. Is that understood?”
He nodded, watching her carefully.
“Okay, what I want to know is what you are holding back. The lie detector test showed you were not telling the truth in questions about your relationship with Victoria. I need to know what you’re not telling. The worst thing that can happen in trial is for the prosecution to reveal damaging evidence that I’m unaware of.”
Jack closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he shook his head and looked away. “It won’t help my case. It’ll make it worse.”
“Let me be the judge of that. But before you answer, do you want me to represent you?”
“Yes. With your resume, you have to be better than my public defender. I think he’s just going through the motions.”
“Actually, some of those guys are quite good.” She pushed an agreement across and handed him the pen. “Sign and I’m your attorney.”
He scratched his name on the form and handed it back.
“Okay, Jack. Tell me your story.”
He inhaled deeply and held it for a long while before releasing the air from his lungs. “Victoria and
I were married six weeks before she left for England. We planned to tell Ethan and Ann when they returned.”
Judith realized the impact immediately. “Can you prove that?”
“The marriage license is in a safety deposit box at my bank.”
That piece of paper was a powerful motive for murder. If he wasn’t convicted of murder, he was joint heir in an estate worth billions.
Twin Falls Police Station
Twin Falls, Texas
Emily sat in the lobby, clutching a shopping bag in her hand, waiting for the desk sergeant to tell Matt Foley she had arrived for their appointment.
Ian’s question about seeing her slip into Alexander’s room had caught her off guard. She couldn’t confide in him. Because Alex was his sister’s only remaining son. She’d given him her “to borrow a book” story.
Ian nodded at her answer. His outward expression accepting her alibi, but something in his eyes told her he hadn’t been fooled for a minute.
She hoped Matt appreciated what it cost her to fulfill his request. She’d risked getting caught stealing, and she’d alienated a friend.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor and she looked up. Matt motioned her back to his office.
After she was seated, he asked, “Mission accomplished?”
She handed him the shopping bag. “I believe this is what you wanted. And you owe me fifty dollars and a visit to an analyst. I’m not cut out for covert operations.”
He reached into his wallet and handed her three twenties. “Alex didn’t see you?”
She shuddered remembering her narrow escape. “Yes, when I went into his room to check the type of brush he used. Naturally, it was no ordinary brush. It took me a day of serious shopping to locate a replacement. Ian also saw me enter the bedroom.”
Tension wrinkled Matt’s brow. “What did Alex do?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. I told him I came in to borrow one of Ann’s romance novels and he bought it. Ian asked me what I was doing there. I didn’t tell him the real reason. I’ve added lying to my sin of stealing. He bought my borrowed-book tale.”
