Small Town Justice

by Valerie Hansen

  When Marsha smiled and said, “As long as you’re sure you have the right goal, the one the Lord wants you to pursue, He’ll look after you,” Jamie had no ready reply.

  It had been a long time since she’d wondered if she was doing God’s will, let alone was His child. She thought she once had been. And as she’d faced recent problems and dangers, she knew she’d instinctively reached out to the heavenly Father of her youthful beliefs. Was that enough?

  She raised tear-filled eyes to Marsha. “How can I know?”

  Instead of providing platitudes, the older woman clasped both her hands and began to pray aloud.

  There were no fancy thees and thous, no complicated requests that sounded scripted, nor could Jamie have quoted her words if she’d had to. Yet the result was profound. The simple prayer began and ended with thanks and Marsha spoke to God as if she knew Him intimately. Trusted Him totally.

  Tears rolled down Jamie’s cheeks. Tons of burdens dropped from her shoulders.

  By the time Marsha said “Amen” and reached for a box of tissues, mere moments of time had passed, while years of suffering had slid away like summer rain falling from the petals of a flower.

  Jamie Lynn blinked and blotted her tears. “Wow. Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank the good Lord. He’s the one who gives us the opportunities to help each other.” Marsha, too, was sniffling. “And He never gives up on His children, no matter what we do or how far away we wander.”

  “Even my brother?”

  “Of course. The thing a lot of folks forget is that we can be forgiven and still have to bear the consequences of our mistakes here on earth. Your brother can be pardoned by God without getting out of prison. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” But she didn’t like it. Not one bit. If R.J. belonged in jail that was one thing. If he was innocent, however, there was no way she could simply stand back and let him finish out his sentence without trying to help. Research had told her that many convicts insisted they were innocent no matter how damning the evidence against them was. In her brother’s case, there was only his testimony and the supposition that since he had been found alone, passed out cold in his bloody, dented car, he had to have been driving when it had hit the beloved sheriff.

  Nowhere in the files about the case was there any mention of fingerprints or DNA testing—which hadn’t been as common fourteen years ago, anyhow. Understandably, the entire community had been up in arms over the death. Whoever had been assigned to gather evidence probably did it as quickly as possible, particularly since they were convinced they already had the perpetrator in custody.

  Looking around the cozy Sunday school room, Jamie noticed that Marsha and another older woman had three little girls busy coloring background for Noah’s ark, while Kyle and a friend marched pairs of plastic animals up its loading ramp.

  “Do you think they saved the car?” she asked Marsha.

  “I have no idea. Why would they? What do you have in mind?”

  “The pictures showed B-L-O-O-D on the front seats.” She spelled to keep from alarming the children.

  “So? It was a bad accident.”

  “Granted.” Jamie cleared her throat. “Suppose some of it tested out as belonging to someone other than R.J.?”

  “It still wouldn’t show who’d been behind the wheel.”

  Jamie Lynn began to smile slightly while helping a little red-haired boy search through a tote for a lost zebra. “Maybe not. Aha!” She held up the missing animal figure, grinned and handed it to the child. “But it would prove that there were at least two people in that car.”

  Eyeing Marsha, she asked, “Would you... I mean do you mind...?”

  “Asking Harlan to see about it? Not at all, dear.”

  If she hadn’t been surrounded by demanding toddlers, Jamie would have delivered one of the Southern hugs she’d become so fond of in the past few days.

  Was that really all the time that had passed? she wondered silently. At times, it seemed she’d just arrived and at others, such as now, she felt totally at home, as if she had never been sent away.

  Although that realization was unsettling, it also provided a measure of comfort. The very place she had convinced herself to hate was becoming a refuge.

  And the people? Jamie glanced at Marsha and Kyle. The people were mostly loving and accepting when she had anticipated an overall reaction similar to the one she was getting from whoever was stalking her.

  Jamie Lynn shivered. Folded her arms across her chest. The mere thought of previous attacks was enough to give her chills. To prickle the hairs at the nape of her neck and raise goose bumps up and down her arms.

  Logic insisted she was being foolish. Imagining things. Letting wild thoughts take control and skew reality. She was in a church, among friends, watching innocent children reenact familiar Bible stories. Fear was irrational.

  Turn around.

  No. There’s nothing there.

  Prove it. Turn around.

  It was all Jamie could do to make herself look toward the glass-topped door to the hallway. There wouldn’t be anybody there, she insisted, beginning to pivot.

  A man’s face was visible through the glass for mere moments before he ducked away.

  She gasped. Wanted to scream. Knew she should race to the door and peek out to try to get a better look at him.

  Instead, her feet remained rooted while her brain tried to convince her that she’d imagined the face.

  She closed her eyes. The image grew clearer. It wasn’t his overall appearance that frightened her. It was his eyes. The way he’d stared at her. The hatred she could feel all the way across the room. She didn’t have to know who he was to sense malevolence. Shane had been wrong. No place was safe. Not even church.

  THIRTEEN

  “You knew what he suspected?” Shane was astounded. “Why didn’t you do something?”

  “Your father asked me to avoid getting involved,” Pastor Malloy said. “After he passed away I spoke with the new sheriff and did a bit of my own investigating. Nothing concrete turned up.”

  “But you believed Dad?”

  “As far as it went,” Logan answered. He rested a hand of comfort on Shane’s shoulder. “We can’t go around accusing people of bribery and other crimes just because we suspect they may be guilty. That’s why courts require witnesses and proof.”

  “Honest witnesses, you mean.” Shane was adamant. “Let me tell you what’s been going on since Jamie Lynn Henderson came back to Serenity and started asking about the accident that killed Dad.”

  The pastor checked his watch. “Sorry. Can it wait until after morning services?” He smiled wryly. “The congregation expects me to preach in a few minutes and they get real testy if the preacher doesn’t show up.”

  “I guess so.” Frustrated, Shane stepped back. “I need to see if a couple of people are here yet, anyway.”

  Logan Malloy’s smile faded. “Don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for. Leave the dirty work to the professionals.”

  “If I was sure they’d done their jobs in the first place, I would.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “The more I learn, the more questions I have and the less I believe justice was served.”

  “Then take your concerns to Harlan or the chief of police and let them look into it. They’re both good, honest men. You can trust them.”

  Shane huffed. “Yeah. I trust most of the folks in Serenity. That’s why what’s been happening to Jamie Lynn is so confusing. Somebody in this town is trying to scare her off and I intend to find out who.”

  He could tell by the expression on his pastor’s face that the man did not support his amateur efforts. That was not a problem. If Logan was worried about Jamie Lynn’s welfare he might be more likely to offer useful advice, or even assista
nce in the field, although Shane knew enough about the pastor’s busy schedule to doubt he’d have much spare time. Folks who thought the clergy worked only one day a week had never followed a pastor around, day by day. Poor Logan had once told him that the only vacation he hadn’t been called back from was one where he and Becky and their kids had flown out of state.

  Given the stresses of that job, Shane hated to lay more burdens on Pastor Malloy’s shoulders if he didn’t have to. Maybe the man was right. Maybe he and Jamie hadn’t made the best use of Harlan’s talents.

  Shane knew he was still wishing Sam could have investigated his own death. If he had, how different might things be?

  For one, perhaps the Henderson boy wouldn’t have been charged at all, let alone convicted so easily. If that had happened, maybe the whole family would have remained in town and he’d have gotten to know Jamie under different circumstances. Shane couldn’t imagine overlooking her the way he must have when she was a girl. She was striking. Her ebony hair shone like the wings of a blackbird in the sun. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with golden flecks. And when she focused them on him...

  Shane shook off thoughts of Jamie and started to follow the pastor back to the sanctuary. A sense of foreboding stopped him. The urge to look in on the nursery and children’s church was so strong he couldn’t push it aside.

  Wheeling, he started to walk, then jog. Few others were still in the hallways and the last choir member was closing the door of the passageway they used to reach their assigned places. At the far end of the hall, one of the ushers was locking the exterior doors so they could be opened only from the inside. There had been a time when Shane had thought such strict precautions unnecessary. Now he was glad the safety measures were in place.

  He slowed, rounding on the nursery door, and opened it quickly. The children were so enthralled in the Bible story they ignored him.

  Jamie Lynn, however, crossed the room in seconds and instead of greeting him politely, as he had expected, threw herself into his arms and clung to him the way Kyle did after awaking from a nightmare.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “I—I thought I saw a face.”

  “Where? When?”

  “At the door. Just before you got here.”

  He held her away, yet kept a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “I didn’t see anybody in the hall. What did he look like?”

  “I don’t really know. I mean, I only caught a glimpse. All I remember is the way he was glaring at me. If looks could kill...”

  Shane slipped an arm around her shoulders. “All right. Mom has plenty of help now. Why don’t you come with me and we’ll see if we can spot the person you think you saw.”

  She stiffened. “What do you mean, think? I saw him. I know I did. I got this creepy feeling and when I turned around, there he was.”

  “You were anticipating seeing somebody?”

  “Well, of course I was. Otherwise, why would my skin crawl and my nerves jump?”

  That admission was less than reassuring. Jamie had been through plenty recently. He wouldn’t blame her a bit if she started seeing menacing faces where there were none. That was perfectly natural. When your enemies had no recognizable faces, any aberration would suffice, even a reflection in the glass.

  As he guided her toward the congregants, he pondered the best way to let her scan them. Standing up front with Logan was out of the question and it was too late to grab robes and infiltrate the choir. The narrow entrance hallway the singers used, however, was dark enough to hide in.

  Shane eased Jamie Lynn ahead of him, explaining as they positioned themselves. “Stay in the shadows and nobody will notice you,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you. If you think you see him you can point him out to me.”

  He sensed her success by her body language before she began to whisper, and he had to strain to hear above the choral singing and accompaniment.

  “There. Third row back, right off the center aisle.” Jamie’s grip on his hand was so tight it hurt. “In the suit.”

  Shane leaned over her shoulder. “Next to the woman with bright red hair?”

  “Yes. That’s him. I know it is!”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Of course I am. I just caught a glimpse but I knew something was different about him. It’s the suit and tie. It registered the minute I saw him again.”

  “All right.” Shane sighed. The older man had lost weight and shed most of his thick, gray hair since the pictures from the trial. That meant it was unlikely Jamie was simply deluded by previous influences.

  Drawing her deeper into the shadows and shepherding her all the way to the rear hallway before he spoke, he faced her and said, “That’s Benjamin Abernathy. The prosecutor who sent your brother to prison.”

  * * *

  Jamie Lynn was not surprised to learn that one of the people responsible for R.J.’s conviction was keeping an eye on her. She’d already surmised as much—and then some. If they could tie this man to the thugs who had been trailing and assaulting her, perhaps that would encourage the sheriff to pursue further clues. Anybody who was so determined to stop her had to be guilty of hiding something pertinent to her brother’s case.

  “I want to meet him. Look him in the eye,” she said, ruing the telltale tremor in her voice.

  “Why don’t we start with some of your brother’s former friends instead. If Abernathy reacts poorly to running into you and makes a fuss in public, we may have more trouble getting others to talk to us.” Hesitating, he kept asking via his quizzical expression. “You know I’m right.”

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She made a face. “All right. When can we start?”

  “One of them sings in the choir. They’ll file out before the sermon and we can catch Steve when he takes off his robe.”

  “What’s his last name?”

  “Fenstermeyer, I think. I’ve always known him as Little Steve. His dad is Big Steve.” Shane smiled slightly. “Neither one of them is little anymore.”

  “I suppose I may recognize him when I see him. I wasn’t around my brother’s friends much. Our parents knew Ray Jr. was trouble. As a ten-year-old I idolized him, of course. I’d have followed him to the moon if he’d let me.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t in the wreck with him.”

  “That reminds me. When I was talking to your mother this morning, I remembered seeing pictures of the car. There was blood on the inside, too. I can’t find any mention of testing being done on that evidence. I’m not even sure it was collected.”

  “It must have been. Dad had set up careful procedures for processing a crime scene.”

  “Except, at the time, they didn’t consider it more than a drunk teenager behind the wheel,” Jamie Lynn argued. “Suppose there was a conspiracy?”

  “Or worse,” Shane said. “What if one of your brother’s so-called friends was driving and they’d planned to blame him all along? That would fit.”

  “Why R.J.? He never hurt anybody.”

  “Maybe not, but his mind was impaired, either by drugs or alcohol or both. He’d make the perfect scapegoat, particularly if some of his buddies were on the wrong side of the law.”

  Jamie Lynn rolled her eyes at him. “Some of them? Try all of them. I can’t believe any of those guys ended up as good citizens.”

  “Don’t be too quick to condemn them. Everybody deserves a second chance.”

  “That is exactly what I keep trying to tell you,” she stated flatly. “And my brother is at the top of my list.”

  * * *

  Little Steve was “the size of a log truck,” according to colloquial descriptions. He was every bit as hefty as the Lamont brothers, but Shane didn’t suspect him of being involved in any of the previous harassment. He was too normal and too smart.

&
nbsp; They stood back while members of the choir hung up their robes and filed out of the room. Shane stepped forward to stop Steve before he had a chance to leave.

  “Hey, Steve.”

  “Hey, yourself, Colton. What’s up?”

  “We just want a word with you. It won’t take long.”

  “My wife and kids will miss me. Can’t this wait?”

  Shane was shaking his head. “Afraid not.” He gestured. “This is Jamie Lynn Henderson. You used to hang with her brother, Ray.”

  “That’s ancient history.”

  “Not anymore. What do you know about the accident?”

  “What accident?” His words were directed at Shane but his gaze never left Jamie.

  “Let’s not waste time,” Shane said firmly. “You know more about the hit-and-run than you admitted. It’s time you came clean.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t there, okay?” Backing away, he raised his hands in front of him as if warding off a threat.

  “But you know what happened, don’t you?” Shane paused to give the other man time to reason. “All we want to do is find out the truth. If Ray Jr. was driving, fine. If not, we’d like to know who was.”

  Little Steve led the way back into the empty choir room and closed the door behind them before he said, “Look. I have to live here. I have a business and a family. If I tell you anything, you have to promise you won’t reveal where you heard it.”

  “If you weren’t involved, then you have my promise,” Shane said. “Somebody has been harassing Ms. Henderson ever since she got here. She’s even been shot at. All I want right now is enough information to stop whoever is trying to scare her off.”

  Steve pressed his lips into a thin line. He clenched his fists. “It might be more than that,” he said, speaking so quietly his words were raspy. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten into.”

  “Tell us.” Shane felt Jamie Lynn grasp his arm and inch closer.