Killer Reads: A Collection of the Best in Inspirational Suspense

by Luana Ehrlich

  “That’s way cool, my friend.” His smile must have outshone McCulloch’s. “You’re a genius, and I don’t pay you enough.”

  McCulloch chuckled. “Don’t think I won’t remind you of that at my next performance review.” He held up a finger. “Keep in mind, Chief, that my buddy can’t put this at the head of the line. We’ll have to wait our turn.”

  “Did you show this to Detective Davis?”

  “Yeah, he and Hunter were gaga.”

  VDM technology had just increased the odds of closing the Pryor case. It was doable. God bless forensic science. “For this, I can wait, but see if you can bribe him.”

  When he returned to his office, he had a message to call Doug Anderson. No doubt what that was about. He punched in the city manager’s number.

  Doug answered the phone with a question. “What did you do to Hall to set his tail feathers on fire?”

  “His tail is always on fire. I just refused to bring him up to date on the Pryor case. Not that there was anything to share at the moment. You know what a grandstander he is, and I don’t want to read the details of this investigation in the newspaper.”

  His boss expelled a deep breath into the phone. “He was screaming about your coming in late, like it was any of his business. For the record, I told him you were up late saving a woman’s life.”

  “How did you find out about that?”

  “There are no secrets in Twin Falls. And by the way, it was a stupid stunt diving into the lake as you did.”

  “Stupid, maybe but she would have died if I hadn’t. You’d be dragging the lake for her body today.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll share your report with Hall to keep him out of my hair. But I’ll tell him if he leaks anything, the deal is off.”

  “As long as you keep him away from me,” Matt said. “For the record, I think it’s a bad idea.”

  Matt hung up the receiver and mumbled. “A very bad idea.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Twin Falls Baptist Church

  Matt parked his car on the street in front of the church. A crowd milled around furniture, clothes racks, and merchandise tables in the parking lot. He made his way through the sanctuary to the pastor’s office. The door stood open.

  Seth Davidson sat at his desk, engrossed in paperwork. When Matt rapped on the doorframe, Seth looked up. The pastor rose and came around the desk, a big grin on his face, his hand outstretched. “Hey, Matthew, come in, come in. Did you want to have our session early this week?”

  After Mary’s death, Matt spent every Thursday afternoon with his pastor in grief counseling. “No. Today it’s business. I’d like to ask you about the Pryor family.”

  “What a sad affair.” Seth shook his head and moved a stack of books from a chair, then motioned for Matt to sit. “I spent Friday with Lily and Sam after they got the news. Tragic as it seems, finding her body brought closure. At the same time, they’re going through a new period of mourning, wondering if she suffered, and all the pain that goes with that. How may I help you, Matthew?”

  “You lived in their neighborhood when Penny disappeared?”

  Seth nodded. “I had just started here as pastor. Evie and I lived one street over. When we learned of Penny’s disappearance that night, we went to help search and later to pray with them. Friday was a flashback to that whole ordeal.”

  “Do you recall any of your neighbors who may have driven a white panel truck back then, or if they still live in town?”

  “It’s been such a long time.” The pastor leaned back in his chair as though clearing the cobwebs from his memory. “Sorry, nothing comes to mind. The church had a blue bus-type van back then. We used it for our children’s outreach.”

  Matt rose from the chair then shook the pastor’s hand. “Thanks, Seth. If you remember anything you think will help, give me a call.”

  ****

  The anger management problem Sam Pryor had before his daughter disappeared, crossed Seth’s mind. But he couldn’t share that with Matthew. The conversation was privileged information. And it had nothing to do with the case.

  After Penny vanished, the Pryors dropped out of church. They blamed God for the loss of their daughter. Distraught, Lily asked all the questions Seth couldn’t answer. Questions like, “Why did God let this happen?” The inadequacy Seth felt back then still plagued him—unable to dissuade them from blaming God for their loss.

  After Matthew disappeared down the hallway, Seth walked into the sanctuary and knelt at the altar, heart burdened. He whispered a prayer, “Lord, you know I will never have all the answers. I depend on you to give Sam and Lily comfort. Give me wisdom and help me teach them to hold to the promise that you will never forsake them, that you will always be just a prayer away. Especially in something as terrible as the loss of a child. Heavenly Father, please help this family find peace in the face of such evil.”

  ****

  On the way to his car, Matt spotted Sara Bradford. He weaved around the shoppers and clutter, to her side. “If you have a minute, I need to ask you a few questions.” He glanced down at his watch. “Have you had lunch?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I can’t leave. The school called and one of my helpers had to pick up her son.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring lunch to you. What’ll it be?”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up. “I’d like a burger with everything, and fries.”

  “Mustard or mayo?”

  “Both.”

  Twenty minutes later, Matt returned with the food.

  Sara waved a woman over to take her place. “Let’s go into the fellowship hall. It’s more comfortable there.”

  Matt followed her inside to a table and then crossed to the coffee pot in the kitchenette. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “I take it black.”

  He poured two cups and brought them to the table. “I was surprised to see you here. You probably need a day off after last night.”

  “Thanks again, Matt...for what you did...I’m not sure I showed proper appreciation last night. You saved my life.” She stirred the coffee with the small red stick. “Staying home would only make me relive the drama. Here, I can at least take my mind off of it for a while.”

  She pushed back the paper wrap from her sandwich and took a bite. “Mmm, good burger. You bought this at the Burger Shack.”

  “You recognized the sack.”

  “No, the taste. I’m a burger connoisseur.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t know. Is that contagious?”

  A light came into her eyes. “No, but it is hereditary. My mom was a gourmet cook. She could make anything. Cornish game hens, beef Wellington, you name it. I drove her crazy because my grandfather’s and my favorite meal was hamburgers and fries.”

  “I’ll make a note of that. By the way, don’t drive home alone after dark. Call me and I’ll either come or send a patrol car to follow you. What are you driving?”

  She took a long drink from the cup and gazed across the table at him. “Thank you, Matt. I know that’s beyond the ‘to protect and serve’ mandate. I’m driving a blue box with four doors and four wheels. My purse, cell phone, license, and credit cards all went down with the ship.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She shrugged. “Pete brought me in this morning and I rented the first thing we saw. I can’t replace the roadster until the insurance company settles, and that may take some time. The fact they have to pay for a rental car may speed up the process.”

  “Must be tough to lose such a sweet ride.”

  “How did you know what I...? Of course, you checked the car out the night Josh died.”

  “I did.”

  She exhaled a breath and looked over his shoulder, out the window. “The loss isn’t so bad. But you didn’t buy lunch to talk about my transportation problems. More questions about Sunday night? I thought we covered that.”

  Matt leaned forward. “I need to ask you about the explosion at Global. Tell me about the accident. Lately, it
seems every case that crosses my desk has your name on it.”

  Bright red spots appeared on her cheeks. “Is that an insinuation?” She shook her head. “You haven’t questioned me about the Valentine’s Day Massacre or the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa.”

  He chuckled. “You’re too young for those cases. Don’t get angry. It isn’t an indictment. Just an observation. Seems odd, after the lake incident. Tell me about Friday.”

  She stared at him for a minute before she spoke. “What do you want to know?”

  “Start at the beginning, when you entered the warehouse. We’ve confirmed a bomb caused the blast. Someone intended to harm you or someone else. After last night, I don’t think there’s any doubt you were the target. The next step is to determine why.”

  She stopped mid-chew. “That is so unreal. There are easier ways to kill someone than with a bomb.”

  “I never try to explain the criminal mind.”

  “Before you ask, I have no idea how to make a bomb. I couldn’t even make a firecracker.”

  He ignored the sarcasm. “Fired anyone recently who might have a grudge against you?”

  “Possibly. A few months back, a supervisor terminated a woman who became violent. I don’t get involved in terminations unless it’s at the management level. Employees with that kind of grudge would go after the director or the supervisor. However, once an associate is let go, he or she no longer has access to any part of Global. If you wish, I’ll call the director to give you a list of recent terminations.” She shook her head. “I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that someone wants to kill me. Even after last night.”

  Matt considered his answer before he spoke. He didn’t want to frighten her, but she needed to deal with reality. He wadded his trash and stuck it into the burger sack. “Believe it. Get that list to me or the two detectives on the case. Have you spoken to Lucy Turner or Cole Allen?”

  “Yes, over the phone.” She shifted in the chair, apparently eager to return to work. “They asked the same questions you just asked.”

  “Be sure the list gets to Detective Turner.” It occurred to Matt that one of Josh’s former girlfriends might have a grudge against Sara. He’d ask Lucy to check that out. A lot of time had elapsed since Josh’s death, but there was no time limit on revenge and jealousy. He pushed on. “Is there anyone who might want to personally harm you? For any reason outside the workplace? Any disgruntled boyfriends?”

  A moment of awkward silence passed before she answered. “I don’t have a boyfriend, disgruntled or otherwise.”

  He couldn’t let that pass. He’d seen her date Saturday night. “What about Jeff what’s-his-name? You were with him at the country club banquet.”

  Her demeanor shifted. Thoughtful. “Jeff isn’t a boyfriend, he’s a friend.”

  Matt grinned. “Maybe that’s why he’s disgruntled.”

  “You have a very warped sense of humor.” She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Until yesterday, I would have said I have no enemies. Now, it seems an inescapable fact.”

  “Until we get a handle on this, you should stay away from Global. Whoever planted that bomb appears to have easy access.” He checked his watch. “I have to go. It might also be a good idea to remain close to home.”

  She stood and tossed her trash into the receptacle. “I’m on vacation for two weeks.”

  “Good, remember what I said about the escort home.”

  ****

  Sara hadn’t mentioned her job status. That was need-to-know information, and there was no need for him to know.

  After leaving the fellowship hall, she pitched back into the activity of the sale. Despite concerted efforts to keep her mind occupied, the lake experience repeated over and over in her head. She had wanted to stay home today, but what she’d told Matt was true. Besides, she’d made a commitment to the pastor to head up this sale for him. Busy hands kept the terror buried.

  Lunchtime shoppers kept her occupied for the next hour. When the traffic slowed down, she collapsed in a chair, near the door, and slipped her shoes off under the table. Across the room, she spotted the red plaid material she’d seen earlier, sticking out from underneath layers of comforters and blankets. She slipped her shoes on and hurried to the display table, reached under the blankets and pulled out a sleeping bag. An exact replica of the one she remembered from the night Penny vanished.

  Grumbling about the loss of her cell phone, she grabbed the bag and hurried into the pastor’s office to call Matt.

  The desk sergeant picked up. “Sorry, ma’am. Chief Foley hasn’t returned to the station. May I have him call you?”

  “Yes please. I found a sleeping bag that might be of interest to him on a case he’s investigating.” She left her name and number and ended the call.

  She took the bag to the basement and tucked it away on a top shelf of the supply closet.

  Just before five o’clock, the church secretary tapped her on the shoulder. “Sara, call for you.”

  Sara took the cordless phone from the secretary. “Mrs. Bradford, this is Detective Davis. The desk sergeant gave me your message. My partner and I would very much like to look at that sleeping bag. Do you know where it came from?”

  “I assume it came in one of the boxes for a sale our church is sponsoring. You can pick it up here anytime between 9:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m.”

  “So you don’t know who brought it in?”

  “It shouldn’t be difficult to find out, although it might take a little time. We have a list of all our donors, at least those from whom we made pickups. A few people dropped items off, but they were mostly church members so we can ask around.” Sara checked the time. “Did you want to come this evening?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m leaving now. Will you be there?”

  Sara told him she would wait and disconnected.

  Strange that a duplicate sleeping bag turned up the same week as Penny’s body. Had someone gotten rid of the mate because Penny’s body had been found? It could just be a common style and merely coincidence. She’d leave that for the detectives to sort out.

  The church parking lot had emptied by the time the two detectives arrived. The taller and more fashionable of the two stepped forward. “Mrs. Bradford?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m Detective Davis. We spoke on the phone.” He indicated the man next to him. “This is my partner, Detective Hunter. Do you have the sleeping bag?”

  “I stored it in the basement so it wouldn’t be sold by accident. I’ll get it for you.”

  The two men followed her downstairs. She opened the door to the supply closet, switched on the light, and glanced up at the top shelf.

  The bag was gone.

  Twin Falls Baptist Church

  Next morning, Sara mulled over the disappearance of the sleeping bag, as she had done all last night. The disappointed detectives waited while she asked the workers if they’d seen it. No one had, and the two men returned to the station.

  The janitor admitted storing a shipment of cleaning supplies after lunch, but said he’d found the shelf empty when he restocked it.

  The whole scene seemed like bad television drama. Things didn’t just disappear. This wasn’t Hollywood, it was her church. She felt like a marionette in the hands of an evil puppet-master, controlling her life.

  Before lunch, Sara checked the messages on the new iPhone she’d bought. Matt Foley’s name appeared on the screen. She pulled up the message.

  Matt’s voice sounded in her ear. “I wanted to let you know we found your missing kids. The family moved in with Diane Morgan’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Campbell. The address is 440 Harcourt Lane, in Twin Falls. A much better neighborhood for those two. Call if you have any questions.”

  Sara whispered a silent prayer of thanks.

  At lunchtime, she left the church sale to check on Danny and Poppy.

  The Campbell Home

  With the help of the car’s GPS system, Sara had no difficulty loca
ting the address. The house sat on a quiet, tree-lined street in a modest neighborhood of single-story brick homes with well-tended lawns.

  She pulled the car to the curb in front of a white brick structure with dark green shutters and made her way to the front door. A smiling elderly woman answered the knock.

  “Hi, I’m Sara Bradford. Your grandchildren used to attend my church. I wondered if they would like to continue to do so since they moved. The church bus would pick them up.”

  The woman opened the screen door. “I’m Dolly Campbell. The children are in the backyard. Won’t you come in?”

  Dolly was a life-size Norman Rockwell painting, with her tidy gray hair pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. She wore a blue checked dress with a ruffled white apron she must have sewed herself.

  Sara followed her inside. “Do the children live with you now?”

  Dolly’s eyes brightened. “Yes, my husband and I finally convinced Diane to come back home. We persuaded her to let us take care of the children while she returned to school. Working entry-level jobs, she simply couldn’t provide for herself and the kids. We’re so happy to have them here. I appreciate your offer, but the children attend church with us now.”

  The older woman led the way into a spotless kitchen where three plates sat on a tablecloth printed with yellow daisies and black checks. “Would you care to join us for lunch? I was just about to call the children. They would love to have you stay.”

  Sara couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She could stop worrying about the kids’ welfare. The Campbell home was a thousand percent better than the children’s last dwelling, and their grandmother seemed an ideal caregiver. “I don’t want to impose, Mrs. Campbell. I’m glad they’re in church. I’ll just say hello, and let you get on with your lunch.”