Love the Sinner

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Love the Sinner Page 11

by Lynn Bulock


  None of us appeared ready to challenge him on that part. We were all out in the parking lot standing at Lexy’s car talking before we knew it.

  Lexy hugged Heather and said goodbye to the rest of us. “I ought to get moving and get to the office while I’m still in the gap between rush hours.”

  “Thanks for doing this. I don’t know what would have happened without you here,” Heather said, her lower lip trembling a little.

  “I’m just glad I didn’t have to do much of anything. I haven’t done any criminal work to speak of, and I’d hate to think of using you for a guinea pig,” Lexy told her.

  “So go do what they pay you to do,” Linnette said, motioning toward her car door. “We’ll make sure that Heather gets home all right, and I’ll head to work myself. Gracie Lee, do you need us to do anything as a group before the services for Dennis?”

  I honestly hadn’t thought about that before this moment. “Let me think about it. If nothing else, I could probably use some backup at the family hours beforehand, whenever we work that out. I really need to talk to Carol and see if she and the rest of his family had anything in mind.” For that matter, I needed to see if Carol had any hints as to where some of his family was at this point. Edna, in particular, came to mind. “I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow morning,” I told her.

  Linnette nodded and I looked back at the building. I hadn’t talked directly to the detective about Edna’s clothing being gone from her closet. “Could you take Heather home for me? I forgot to tell Detective Fernandez one last thing.”

  “Sure, no problem. Call me when you need me.” A quick hug and Linnette and Heather were gone, too, leaving me heading back into the building. It might not have been the brightest move I’d made all day, but it needed to be done. Now why did that feel like it could have been the motto for my life in the past two weeks?

  Jeannie didn’t look too pleased to see me this quickly again when I got to the detective division waiting room and asked for Fernandez. “He’s got somebody in his office right now,” she said. “I think they’re going to be in there a while. Maybe it would be better if you came back another time.”

  “It would be helpful if I didn’t have to come back,” I told her. “I had several things to tell him.”

  She didn’t offer much more and I tried to decide how much more to say myself. “Maybe I could go down the street somewhere close and grab a cup of coffee and come back. Do you think that would work?” I would really have rather parked myself right here in the lobby and watched him walk out with Adela Rodriguez, which was what I expected would happen, but that would probably make him unhappy. The last thing I needed right now was an unhappy police officer to add to the rest of my problems, especially when he’d just had to give up the idea of somebody else as his prime suspect in my husband’s murder.

  “I imagine that would work. Do you know of a place to go?” Jeannie seemed more than ready to get rid of me.

  “I’m not as familiar with this neighborhood as I am some other places.” And I didn’t particularly want to be, since my main association with this neighborhood was the sheriff’s department. But Jeannie directed me to a nearby family-run coffeehouse and bakery and I spent a while there sipping a latte and wondering if Fernandez was done with talking to the witness yet.

  After twenty minutes, I hoped that he was, because there was only so much time I was willing to spend trying to ignore a well-stocked bakery case. In five more minutes I was back in the sheriff’s department parking lot. My patience was rewarded by seeing Adela Rodriguez come out of the building with her daughter-in-law, both of them still talking to each other in hushed tones as they made their way to an older sedan and got in.

  Jeannie seemed much happier to see me when I came back to her desk. That just confirmed my suspicions that before, she was getting me out to avoid Adela. She rang Fernandez, and in a matter of seconds, he breezed out of the back room and ushered me into his office. “Jeannie said you’d asked to speak to me a little while ago. I appreciate your coming back,” he said. “I’ve got a fair amount of cases right now and something came up that I couldn’t wait to deal with.”

  Oh, that was too much. If he’d just said he wouldn’t discuss the case with me and gone on I would have understood. But to pretend something else was going on was trying patience that I didn’t really have right now. I felt like I usually did when Ben was trying to give me a line about why he was late making curfew or why a particular grade wasn’t what I thought it should be and he, usually, knew it could be if he’d just studied. I felt, in other words, like I was being fed a line.

  Counting to ten didn’t do anything. I was still just as mad as I’d been before. “Detective, I’ll level with you. I saw Adela Rodriguez out there when we came in this morning and I have a fair idea of why Heather was called back in here. And I have to figure that something about Ms. Rodriguez’s identification of Heather as a suspect didn’t work out or you would not have let Heather leave earlier. So please, don’t try to tell me that you’re busy with other cases. Although I’m sure you have plenty to do with this case and the others you have to be handling right now.” It was as nice as I could possibly be and be honest right now. At least I didn’t go into the details of how I knew for certain that Adela Rodriguez hadn’t seen Heather leaving that room.

  The detective didn’t appear to know what to say to me. His expression wavered between confusion and one I’d seen before that I would have called consternation. “You know, I didn’t say I was busy with another case, just that I was busy. And none of this is really your business—” he started before he cut himself off.

  “I think it is, at least to a degree. After all, it’s my husband who was murdered. And you can’t deny that I was probably your first suspect. I know that statistically if a serial killer or some other total stranger doesn’t kill you in this country, your nearest and dearest family probably did.”

  He shrugged. “That’s truer than not, usually. But nothing’s going to be helped by my telling you the details of this murder investigation, especially when you’re so free with what I tell you.”

  So free with what he told me? I hardly knew anybody in California, so it was difficult to figure out what he meant and I told him so. He got all argumentative looking again on me. “Ms. Harris, you’re best buddies with your late husband’s fiancée, which still has me so confused I can’t figure out up from down on this one. I can’t understand why you weren’t the one pushing for me to file some kind of charges against her from the first moment.”

  “Because she didn’t do it,” I said, without even thinking. It didn’t take much thought to say that, because something—call it intuition or whatever—had convinced me from the first that Heather was innocent in this particular situation. “She may have a lot of problems, Detective, the least of which being that she’s out over six thousand dollars to the same con man that took thirty thousand from me and duped both of us into believing we were the only woman in his life and he loved us madly. The funny thing about that is that Dennis was so convincing that he may have believed that part himself.”

  His soft brown eyes were clouded. “Still, it takes two to tango, as the old saying goes. Don’t you have any hard feelings against her?”

  “Hard feelings? Yes, of course I have hard feelings, because I’m human. She’s younger and prettier than I am and pregnant with my husband’s child. But ‘hard feelings’ are a long way from suspecting she murdered Dennis, or wanting her prosecuted for it. Does that make any sense to you?” I was beginning to wonder if it did, because we’d had similar conversations to this one now several times. My logic and his just didn’t seem to be in the same ballpark.

  “Maybe. And I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what you came back here to discuss with me. At least I hope it wasn’t.”

  He was giving me a way to get off the subject gracefully and for a change I took it. He’d had a point earlier when he said he hadn’t ever told me he was busy with another case, and I pro
bably had lit into him unfairly this time. “You’re right. I need to talk to you about what I found at home. I wish it were something more concrete, but I think it’s worthwhile, anyway.” I went into more detail than I had before about the dents in Edna’s closet floor carpeting and the missing clothing. The detective’s expression was a little skeptical, but he wasn’t arguing, either.

  “It’s a possibility,” he said. “I’ll agree with you, I wish there was more proof of what you’re suggesting. As is, we don’t really have enough evidence yet to file a missing-person report, much less suspect foul play. She’s a sane, healthy adult who doesn’t really have anybody else to answer to. None of us like the fact that she appears to have walked out of her son’s room at a critical time and disappeared, but there’s not a thing we can do about it.”

  That about summed everything up. I wished there was more that Fernandez could do toward pressuring somebody into telling what they knew about Edna. I still had the feeling that Carol and Becca knew more than they were letting on.

  “Maybe when we’re able to set a date for the funeral services, and can actually run an obituary in the paper that says something definitive about services, she’ll turn up.” It was my best hope, but I had to admit it wasn’t a real strong one.

  “That should be soon. The medical examiner’s office called me this morning and said that they may be able to release the body by the end of today, or tomorrow morning. I didn’t have any new tests for them to run, and everything we’ve ordered so far is complete. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. And in the meantime—”

  “I know. Don’t leave town. Which is a little ridiculous because I have far too much to do to leave town even if I wanted to.” I was a little too edgy and tired to be terribly polite at this point.

  That was a mistake, because in a heartbeat Fernandez was in my face and in a real mood. “Look, I wish you’d listen to me. Despite what you think, I’m not considering you a suspect here. You haven’t put all the pieces together in this mess or you’d be a lot more grateful to me and the rest of the sheriff’s department, and a lot more willing to do what I’m telling you instead of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “What do you mean?” The intensity of his speech scared me. He obviously believed what he was telling me, but I wasn’t sure why he was so upset.

  “Oh, forget it.” He seemed to regret that he’d said anything. “I should know better than to say anything, but, lady, you’re driving me nuts.”

  “Why? Because I’m not providing you with a nice, neat package all tied up to solve my husband’s murder? Because despite what you think, I can’t hate the younger woman he was obviously planning to run off with?”

  “No. Because you won’t sit still and let us do our job. And part of that job is keeping you safe, Ms. Harris, because somebody’s tried to kill you twice now and may just well try again.”

  None of my body parts worked right all of a sudden. Everything felt cold and stiff and there was this funny ringing hum in my ears. “Kill me? But…no. That can’t be right. It was Dennis who got run off the road to begin with.”

  The detective sighed. “In your car, headed toward your house. And then when that didn’t work, somebody fed him poison out of a cup that only you had been drinking out of previously. There are at least four sets of prints on that cup, but on the inside the only evidence that someone’s been drinking from it comes from your mouth.”

  I felt like passing out or throwing up or something. He was right, I’d never thought about that part before. And I didn’t really want to think about it now. Besides my new friends at the chapel, I was two thousand miles from anybody who cared about me. And apparently, a whole lot closer to somebody who wanted me dead.

  I must have turned as pale as I felt. The detective put a steadying hand on my arm. “I’ve said way too much here, and it’s probably just my cop’s way of thinking anyway.” Fernandez was backpedaling, but it wasn’t working. The expression on his face told me he regretted what he’d said, but his eyes said that it was the truth.

  “I won’t leave town,” I said, trying to make my voice sound stronger than I felt. “And I’ll make sure somebody I trust knows where I am all the time.”

  “I hope that includes me,” he said, still looking grim. “Because right now, I’d have to say there aren’t too many people around here you can fully trust. Whether they were aiming for you in the first place or for him, someone killed your husband, Ms. Harris. And we still don’t know who.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Detective. In the meantime I need to go over to Conejo Community Chapel and let the staff there know that I’m going to take them up on their offer to help with a funeral for Dennis. Thanks to the folks at the chapel, I’ve remembered where else besides your department to put my full trust.”

  His face clouded a little again. “That’s your choice, Ms. Harris. I can’t say that I share that trust, but you go right ahead.” I went out to the parking lot where it took me several tries to get the key into the ignition and start the car so that I could head toward the chapel. I tuned the radio to the one Christian station I could receive. I needed a little more reminder of just where that trust was coming from.

  9

  Of course I went straight to someone I could pour my heart out to. “Have you thought about a job?” Linnette was looking over her reading glasses at me as we sat at our familiar table at the Coffee Corner. As usual, I was drinking decaf because my nerves didn’t need any more caffeine with all the other problems I had going on.

  “Definitely. I’ve got to do something to keep from going nuts, and just to have some money coming in for a while. There’s precious little in my account, and the longer that Edna’s gone, the less I can figure out about what to do about the household expenses.” Bills would start to come soon for utilities and services that she usually paid, and I certainly didn’t want the electricity or the phone cut off. With Ben and my mom so far away, the computer and the telephone were my life-lines right now.

  “I think you’d more than qualify for some of the work-study stuff that the university has open. Not everything they suggest for graduate students involves teaching, you know.”

  Actually, I didn’t know. Until recently I hadn’t thought about who all these people were in places like Linnette’s bookstore and the coffee shop where we sat drinking our lattes, but it made sense that many of them were probably students. “Do you have anything open in the store?” It would suit me as well as anything, and give me a chance to see my friend.

  Linnette shook her head. “Not right now, but I’m pretty sure that there’s something open here at the coffee shop. There almost always is. If you want me to ask Maria when she comes in, I’ll be happy to.”

  “Please.” It was the most mindless job I could imagine, for the most part, which would be right up my alley at the present. I didn’t think I could handle anything too far up the ladder from mindless with everything else going on in life.

  “I will. And I have to tell you that I’m more than a little concerned about the rest of what you’ve shared.” It hadn’t taken me long once I’d gotten there to tell her all about Fernandez’s dire warnings. “Do you really think he’s right, and that someone was out to get you instead?”

  I swirled my drink around in the cup, staring at the pale foam on top. “It’s possible. It was my car that Dennis was driving the night of his accident, and he normally never drove it. No one looking out for him would have expected him to be driving that car unless they’d followed him all the way from Heather’s.”

  Linnette nodded, looking worried. “And we know that nobody who was there that last day expected him to be drinking out of your teacup, or anything else.”

  I’d been thinking about that one even more than the car. “Not when they dropped the drugs in the cup, for sure. Unless it was someone on staff, and that hardly seems likely.”

  “According to what the police have told us so far, anyway.” Linnette looke
d over her reading glasses at me again. “I want you to be careful, Gracie Lee.”

  “I’m being as careful as possible. It is scary. But there’s not much more that I can do about it. Plus there are so many things I have to do about Dennis’s funeral arrangements. I have a feeling Pastor George is going to regret the warm, open nature of the Community Chapel once I start pestering him.”

  Linnette shook her head, making those deep red waves of lush hair bounce. “Not for a moment. That’s what he’s there for. And that’s what groups like Christian Friends are there for, too. Don’t do any of this alone unless you want to, okay?”

  “Okay. And I appreciate you asking Maria about a job when she comes in. I’ll either call you later or drop back by once I’ve gone by the chapel.” And with that I put a lid on my cooling latte and went on to the harder errands I needed to do. It was good to be bolstered with coffee and friendship when the going got rough. And the going had gotten plenty rough lately.

  I ran out of coffee before I ran out of rough going as I sat in Pastor George’s office and explained everything that I could to him. Fortunately he was used to difficult situations and kept several boxes of tissues around the office for just such occasions.

  Looking into his lined middle-aged face I got the feeling that there probably wasn’t a thing I could have told him that would have shocked or surprised him. “I guess you’ve heard it all after a few years as pastor of a good-size church,” I said, trying to stop from crying.

  “Let’s just say I’ve heard a great deal of what causes people pain in this world. And being a quarter-century past divinity school doesn’t hurt, either. There are things that would have left me speechless at twenty-eight that I can at least breathe through now.” He had a nice smile, a little sad around the edges, with kind gray eyes. I would have loved to have done something about the unfortunate comb-over he wore, but if that was the worst fault I ever found in this man, I’d be okay.

 

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