Christina Freeburn - Faith Hunter 03 - Embellished to Death

by Christina Freeburn

  “Tell Marsha I’m expecting a refund.” A woman in purple pajamas, decorated with lambs jumping over fences, headed to the elevator. She tugged a hastily packed suitcase behind her. Straps from camisoles peeked out from the zipper. “I want the crop room reopened. I want to leave tonight.”

  It was just after midnight. The manager must have locked the doors. Besides picking the lock, I didn’t know how to get back in there before the staff opened it back up at six, and there was a more important matter to handle. Collecting scrapping supplies could wait until morning.

  “Everything is fine,” I said. “There’s no reason to leave.”

  “A woman got run over in the parking lot. Someone attacked a woman in her room.”

  “That man won’t be bothering anyone again,” I said.

  “I heard a shot outside.” A woman wearing pink-and-brown camouflage yoga wear clutched a cell phone to her chest.

  “My friend and I had just got back from a late dinner and saw a coroner’s van outside.”

  “As I said, the man who attacked the woman tonight won’t hurt anyone again.” The flat tone returned to my voice.

  Steve drew me to his side. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Go talk to Garrison in his room.”

  “His room?” Steve’s lifted my chin with his finger and studied me.

  “His room is right next to yours. Ours.” I held out my hand. “Can I—”

  “You can go through the connecting door.” Steve placed his other arm around Garrison and walked us to the room. “We need to talk.”

  Garrison halted Steve. “Where’s Bob?”

  Worried women exchanged glances. I sent a pleading look to Darlene. I didn’t want to announce Bob’s arrest to an audience.

  Darlene wiggled between the two men and threw a worried glance in my direction. “Come on croppers, let’s go find Lydia, Marsha, or the manager. Since we’re awake and won’t be able to fall back asleep, might as get some cropping done. Faith, how about ten percent off any sales from midnight until three a.m.?”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  Darlene shooed croppers toward two different spots in the hallway. “Everyone near the elevator, go with Gussie. Everyone closer to the stairs, follow me.”

  Darlene’s group trailed after her like ducklings after their momma.

  The woman in the lamb pajamas stood her ground. “I want to leave now.”

  “Pick a group. If neither Gussie nor Darlene can talk the manager into opening up the crop area, no one can,” I said.

  “I’ll take the elevator.” The woman brought her suitcase on the scouting expedition.

  I wished them luck in finding Lydia or Marsha. Those two could make themselves as scarce as Bigfoot. If the sirens didn’t draw them from their rooms, or wherever they were, someone wanting to leave early wouldn’t make them appear either.

  “No!” Garrison knocked into me as he ran from the room.

  “Wait!” Steve steadied me then snagged Garrison’s arm. “Charging in there isn’t going to help.”

  “You don’t get it.” Garrison yanked away.

  “Yes, I do.” Steve kept hold of Garrison.

  “Let’s go talk in the room,” I said.

  “No.” Garrison yanked away. “I won’t let them ruin Bob.”

  “They won’t,” Steve insisted.

  A woman holding a cell phone to her ear huddled near the vending machines.

  “You don’t know anything about our lives. What it’s like—”

  I took hold of Garrison. “In the room. He wouldn’t want everyone hearing this.”

  Garrison looked down the hallway. The woman slid into the shadows. “Okay. But in the end doing nothing is not an option.”

  “I don’t do nothing,” I said.

  “If that isn’t the understatement of the year,” Steve said.

  Since it received a small smile from Garrison, I’d let the quip go. I took out my phone and sent Ted a text. I didn’t have time for a long conversation, and we needed a plan. The sooner Ted got here the better. I clicked on his work cell number. Morgan dead. Bob arrested. Need you here. ASAP. I deleted the last four letters. I didn’t think I needed to tell Ted to hurry. The brothers were close. Ted was also fond of Garrison. There was no way Ted would stay in Eden with his brother in jail.

  “Bob will get hurt.” Garrison paced around the room. The pillow I threw at Morgan lay on the floor. Garrison kicked it.

  “He’ll be okay,” I said, adding a smile I didn’t quite feel to the end of my sentence. “It won’t hurt his business.”

  Pain flickered in Garrison’s eyes. “I don’t care about his damn job. I love him. I’m worried about his physical safety. Not everyone is accepting of our relationship.”

  “The police won’t let anyone harm him,” Steve said. “He’ll be safe. Soon, Bell will realize that Bob didn’t commit the crime. The police will do a gun residue test. Bob will be clean.”

  “Before or after they put him in a jail cell with a few other guys?” Garrison faced the window. The light from the room allowed his reflection to show in the window. The disappointment he felt was clear on his face.

  “Before.” I wanted to say what I could to make him feel better. I had a feeling the only thing that would take away Garrison’s worry was Bob walking through the hotel room door.

  Garrison shook his head.

  “Detective Bell wants to find the murderer. He won’t delay conducting any test that will help him prove the case. Bob will be safe. I promise,” Steve said.

  Garrison whirled and glared at Steve. “You can’t promise anything to me. Who you are, an assistant prosecutor, gives you protection. Who Bob is, gay, makes him a target. You can’t understand that.”

  “I do.” Steve stood near the connecting door. “A criminal gets needed reputation points if they hurt or kill a cop or a prosecutor. It helps a criminal build up a good reputation for prison.”

  “I’m not talking about the criminals.” Intensity burned in Garrison’s blue eyes. “I’m talking about the police. There are still some officers who’ll turn the other way if they see a gay inmate being harassed by others. Hell, there are some who will encourage the behavior.”

  “You know for certain that’s the truth with the Morgantown police force?” Steve stared at Garrison.

  Garrison shoved shaking hands through his blond hair. “No. I don’t know that. But, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that there’s one officer who will. Detective Bell doesn’t like Bob or Ted. I don’t see him making sure Bob is protected.”

  “That’s a serious charge,” Steve said.

  “I’m not stating what the future will be. I’m stating what has happened in the past.” Tears glittered in Garrison’s eyes. “I hate not trusting people, especially those I should trust, like law enforcement, clergy, and parents.”

  Steve wrapped his hand around the doorknob to our connecting room.

  Garrison gripped Steve’s shoulder. “This is why things don’t change. People walk away because the truth is ugly. It’s hard to deal with it.”

  Steve grasped Garrison’s hand, squeezed it then removed it from his shoulder. “I’m not running away. I’m going to make a phone call. I made a promise that Bob will stay safe. I’m going to ensure it.”

  Garrison went back to the window and looked out into the dark. “We have to do something.”

  “We will once a plan is figured out.” I stood beside him. “If the killer is still around it means they think one of us can identify them. The murderer has the advantage as he or she knows who we are. We can’t even pinpoint the gender.”

  “We have to figure out why they’d want to kill Morgan.”

  “Unfortunately, I think Morgan himself is a reason. The man didn’t
endear anyone to himself.”

  “He liked making enemies as much as he did money,” Garrison said.

  “Our best bet is waiting until Ted gets here. He’ll be able to get us the information we need.” Or at least I hoped when he did, he’d share it.

  “Ted?”

  “I texted him. He hasn’t responded back but I’m sure he’s on his way.”

  A half-smile tugged at Garrison’s mouth. “I’m sure he is. We’ll wait until he gets here before we do anything. I don’t want anyone getting hurt and neither would Bob.”

  “Want me to wait with you until Ted shows up?” I asked.

  “No. I prefer to be alone.” Garrison continued looking out the window.

  “I have faith that it’ll work out.” I wanted to promise Garrison it would work out, but knew it was not in my control. The word promise held a lot of expectation for Garrison, and past hurts.

  “I hope you’re right. Because I don’t.”

  FOURTEEN

  I snagged my suitcase and hauled it into the other room. “Poor Garrison—” I halted.

  Sitting on the bed in a hunched over position, Steve cradled his head in his hands. His cell phone was beside him.

  “Do you have a headache?” My make-up bag, where I kept my pain reliever, was in Garrison and Bob’s room. I placed my hand on the doorknob and hoped Garrison hadn’t locked it.

  “I failed.” Pain filled Steve’s voice.

  I went to him and drew him into my arms, letting his head rest against my stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t expect that answer,” Steve said.

  I raised Steve’s chin so I could look into his brown eyes. The hurt reflected in his gaze almost tore my heart into pieces, and made me want to strike something. Who or what caused him so much pain? “What answer?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I thought he’d help, but he won’t because I’m involved. I should’ve given Garrison his phone number.”

  The use of the pronoun “he” confused me. Why wouldn’t Steve name this person? Why had it shaken him so badly? “Who won’t help?”

  Steve clasped my hands in his and made me sit down beside him. “My father is a defense attorney. He loves taking on discrimination cases and using the law to teach those who deny people basic rights a much needed lesson. But not in this case.”

  “Because his son asked? That makes no sense.”

  Steve tightened the hold on my hands. “This all has to do with the tattoo and why I spend every holiday with you and your grandmothers instead of my father and his family. It hurt my father a lot when I got it.”

  “You’re an adult. There’s no reason your father should be mad about that.” I gripped the edge of the bed to stop my itching fingers from tugging up the sleeve of Steve’s shirt. The tattoo was a minor issue, that I turned major a few months ago, and made me wonder about Steve. For some reason, he had kept its existence a secret from everyone and it made me worry about what else he hid from me. Even as I kept my own “secret” compartment in life locked up tight.

  “I was nineteen when I got it, and it wasn’t the act that caused a rift between me and my father but the image.”

  “Why? It’s beautiful.”

  This time I did succumb to temptation and raised the sleeve of his shirt. With my finger, I traced the beautiful image of the anime angel. She was tastefully dressed in a long flowing gown and leggings. Long blonde hair flowed behind her and in one hand, she clutched a sword. A flowing script in a pale red went down the blade. I couldn’t make out what it said.

  “The likeness is my mother. I got it right after she died.”

  “Your father should have understood. I know some people hate tattoos and believe it’s disrespectful to God but you wanted something to memorialize your mom.” My heart broke for Steve, and roared with fury at his father. Everyone grieved differently, and sometimes in grief broke “rules” in their quest to find something to heal them. That wasn’t a time to take a stand against tattoos.

  “I wish that was it. I told my dad the name on the sword was his mistress’s name and the red color was…” Steve dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t believe I said what I did, and the fact I said it in front of her and him.”

  My stomach churned a little, figuring the word Steve used was blood. I had a hard time believing the man I’d grown to love had said something so cruel. It seemed so un-Steve like. “You have to forgive yourself, just like he needs to forgive you. You were a still a teenager at the time. You were grieving over your mother.”

  “And just found out my father wasn’t at the hospital when my mom passed because he stopped to visit his longtime mistress.”

  “That wouldn’t help either. Forgive yourself.” I inspected his arm closely. “What does it say?”

  “Eternal.”

  I knelt down on the mattress and cupped my hands around Steve’s face. “Just tell him that. It says ‘eternal’ not someone’s name.”

  “My mom loved pink. She died of breast cancer so at the time I thought a darker pink would be better as I wanted to remember her, not just the cancer.”

  “One not very nice thing said by a young hurting man shouldn’t be clung to so tightly that your father allows it to damage your relationship.”

  Steve gently removed my hands and fell back onto the bed.

  I followed after him. The back of my head thudded on the semi-soft mattress. “You want to finish telling me everything?”

  Our legs dangled over the side of the bed. Or at least mine did, Steve’s touched the floor. I waited, allowing him to tell me the rest without my prodding. I knew how much it meant to do it on your own terms, rather than others forcing the truth out.

  “He was willing to forgive me a few days later. Her, not so much. But he made it a condition on them getting married. So she agreed and verbally forgave me. As she said, she’d been waiting around for a proposal for twenty years.”

  “Your father had an affair during your parents’ whole marriage?”

  “My father and this woman had been dating for two years when my father met my mom. Apparently, he cheated with my mom on her. My mom got pregnant so he did the proper thing and married her.”

  “Did your mom know?” My whispered question sounded like a loud shout.

  “I don’t think she knew he was dating someone at the time they got together. From bits and pieces of arguments I remember, I’d guess she suspected he was having an affair but never came right out and confronted him on it. I always thought his business trips were more than business trips.”

  “It must have hurt a lot for you to watch your father marry his mistress.”

  “I didn’t watch. I begged him not to marry her, especially not so soon after my mom died. My father’s sister and her husband tried explaining why it was too soon, especially for me, and if he waited a few more months, it wouldn’t seem like such a slap in the face to me and my mother. He said two months was enough of a waiting period. I felt like I’d have been betraying my mom if I attended. I couldn’t do it. That turned into strike two against me. My father said it was unfair to make him choose between his wife and other son.”

  “You have a brother?” That shocked me more than anything else Steve had said. I couldn’t believe he’d turn his back on a kid.

  “A few months younger than I am. As his mistress said when she apologized to me, if she’d had known that would’ve gotten her a ring, she’d have had a child out of wedlock a lot sooner.”

  I thought I’d have to cover my eyes to keep them from popping out of my head. “She said that?”

  “And right after that was when I made the comment about her name being on the sword.”

  What a witch! Steve learned while his mom lay dying his father was playing house with
another woman. I couldn’t blame him for being angry and verbally erupting. People could only take so much before they exploded in one fashion or another.

  “Your father still married her? She should’ve been out of his life.”

  “Of course he did. Why would he kick her out of his life over that? Marrying my mom didn’t. Having me didn’t. Divorcing his wife for his mistress would hurt his work reputation and standing in the community, so he kept living two lives. Looking back through my childhood, I know which life he preferred.”

  Hurt flashed across Steve’s face. I curled into his side, draping my arm over him and holding on tight. Secrets had hurt him, and yet he knew I kept one and didn’t push. It made me love him more. “Have you been estranged since that happened?”

  “My father makes an attempt every couple of months. The older he gets the less he wants to have two separate families. He wants his whole family together. I don’t know if I can ever consider that woman and her son my family.”

  “She wants a relationship with you?”

  “No. She wants her grandchildren to have an uncle as she never had any other children, and her son’s wife is an only child also.”

  “And yet when you reach out to him, he said no.”

  “He said he won’t be used by anyone and that included his son. I’m either in his life or out of it, and not in his life just for my convenience.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, skimming along my ears. I didn’t understand how a father could hurt his child so deeply and turn away from him. Steve needed his father’s compassion and understanding. Steve deserved it.

  Steve turned onto his side. Gently, he swiped the tears from my face. “Don’t cry.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry you have to relive this because of what’s going on.”

  “I needed to tell you sooner or later. A sooner forced is just as good of a time as a sooner I chose. This situation didn’t create the need for the truth to come out. Our relationship made it a requirement.”

  I rolled onto my side and faced Steve. “I should’ve asked about your family before now. I’m just not a prying type of person.”