While he imagined the expression on Elizabeth Wilcox’s face as she exchanged texts with Jason Watkins, Seitzer’s own phone rang, interrupting his brooding.
“Hey.” The female voice on the other end sounded familiar.
“Felicia?”
“Wow. I don’t think you’ve ever called me only by my first name before. Are we finally on a first name basis now, Daniel? Or do you prefer Dan?”
“What do you want, Ms. Monroe?”
“See, that’s more the tone I expected from you. I figured you’d be mad at me after today. You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
“I will be if you don’t get to the point.” Truth be known, Seitzer expected full disclosure from Felicia Monroe as much as she expected the detective to reveal all of his information to her. Granted, this was the first time he could recall that Felicia had withheld information that Seitzer wanted.
“Well, I was feeling a little bad that I hadn’t been more forthcoming with you and your partner today. I mean, not that bad, but bad enough that I figured I should do something to make it up to you. So I did a little snooping around through some of the case files of Research Division B. I found a person who matched the description of that guy Harrison told me about—the one with a dragon tattoo on his wrist.”
“You found the guy with the dragon tattoo?”
“I found a man with a dragon tattoo. I assume there might be more than one in the world.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“His name is Ray Browning and he lives right here in Woodside. I’ll text you his address.”
“Did the file say what Stevenson Industries wanted with him?”
“Okay, so get this—Ray Browning believes that he is possessed.”
“By a demon?”
“Well, I’m guessing not by Kanye West. You know who Kanye West is, right?”
“Yes, I know who Kanye West is. What was Division B’s verdict on Browning? Did they think something supernatural was going on?”
“They wanted to bring him in for more testing. They have a video of his interview, but I didn’t have time to look at it.”
“Did you see any indication that Wilcox and Browning met?”
“That’s the best part. Wilcox and Browning were signed in at similar times. So I can tell you they were in the building at the same time, though that doesn’t guarantee they met.”
Seitzer considered the implications of Felicia’s information. They still didn’t know if Ray Browning was the same man Jim Thompson saw at Holy Spirit Tabernacle. Even if Browning believed he suffered from demonic possession and had potentially met Graham Wilcox at Stevenson Industries and then later visited Holy Spirit Tabernacle, there was not yet further evidence that demonstrated he was the killer. But Harrison would surely enjoy learning about the connections.
Before Seitzer finished his call with Felicia, he started to grow concerned. “Felicia, you aren’t over your head on this one, are you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because you seemed a little nervous when we ran into you at Stevenson Industries and I got the feeling it wasn’t just because we caught you doing something you didn’t want us to know about.”
Felicia was silent on the other end. After a lengthy pause, she replied, “Stevenson Industries can get a little scary. Sometimes it seems like this all knowing corporation, but I’m working with my uncle. Trust me, I’ll be okay.”
“Alright. But if things ever get weird over there, you know you can call me, right?”
“Aww. You’re worried about me! That’s so cute. And you want to know something else?”
“What?”
“You called me Felicia again. We are on a first-name basis, Dan.”
Seitzer ended the call with Felicia, then punched in Harrison’s number.
“Hey, I was just going to call you,” Harrison answered.
“You were?” Seitzer began to wonder if Felicia had contacted his partner first.
“Yeah. I heard back from my accountant friend. He said he didn’t see anything illegal in the records. All of the money that came into Holy Spirit Tabernacle seems to be accounted for.”
“So what was Gary Price worried about us finding?”
“This might not be it, but I had my friend tally up contributions made by different people in the church since all of that info was recorded for tax purposes. When we looked at what people gave, we saw that the Thompsons only donated somewhere in the vicinity of $5000 over the last two years. And that doesn’t seem much given that he supposedly sold his house and business to give to the church.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“But that isn’t all. I started to do a little digging on the Thompsons and I found that their former house is up for sale, as a foreclosure. And Jim Thompson never sold his business, he went bankrupt.”
“Hmm. So the entire story about selling off their possessions was just a ruse. That seems like a really risky move on Thompson’s part. Gary Price must have known. Why didn’t he say anything about it?”
“I don’t know. Does this make it more or less likely that Jim Thompson killed Graham Wilcox? Because if Graham Wilcox found out, I don’t think he would have hesitated to call Jim Thompson out in front of the entire church, just like he did to George Gregorson.”
Seitzer digested the information. “Whatever the case, we owe Gary Price another visit. Let’s bring him to the station for this interview. I don’t like being lied to.”
“Okay. Sounds good. So why were you calling me?” Harrison asked.
“Felicia Monroe found a man with a dragon tattoo who was a person of interest for Stevenson Industries. He might have met Graham Wilcox there, too.”
Harrison remained silent on the other end. Seitzer assumed he was looking for the Christian way of saying, “I told you so.”
“Anyway, we can start investigating him now too.”
“Yeah. That should be interesting,” Harrison said.
Much to Seitzer’s relief, Harrison took the high road much. The detective felt energized by these new revelations—enough so that he was willing to dive deeper into Elizabeth Wilcox’s life. It didn’t matter what he found there; she was just a person of interest. At least, that was what he told himself. Seitzer picked up the phone and called that judge he knew.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Charity Price turned the lock on her front door with the slightest force possible. With any luck, her parents had taken for granted that she was home and were not waiting for her on the other side. No lights illuminated the house, which was a good sign. Then again, Charity pondered if it would be better for them to catch her act of rebellion, so everything could be exposed. Or she could be punished. Charity knew she should be punished.
She opened the door just enough to squeeze her slim frame over the threshold. All was quiet. Charity took another soft step and sat down on a nearby bench to remove her shoes. Now that she was clad only in socks, she moved toward the stairs.
“You’re back late,” a low voice said. Charity was so surprised to hear any voice that she did not immediately realize it belonged to Hope and not her parents. Hope switched on the lamp next to the couch.
Once Charity overcame the instinctual fear of being caught entering her house after 8 pm, she remembered how angry she was at her sister.
“Don’t worry, I covered for you with Mom and Dad. I told them I thought you had already gone to bed.”
“How did you know I was gone?” Charity asked, her curiosity temporarily overpowering her anger.
“I went into your room to talk to you and you weren’t there.” Hope chuckled. “You know, you could get away with so much. Mom and Dad would never have believed I had gone to bed early.”
“It’s because they trust me.”
Hope narrowed her eyes and then shook her head. “No; they think that they control you and that’s not the same thing as trusting you.”
“Not everyone can be as wild and free as you are.” Charity
started up the stairs.
“So where were you?”
“None of your business.” The younger sister padded up the stairs; Hope followed. When Charity entered her room, so did Hope.
“Did you meet up with your boyfriend?”
“Who, Kevin? No, I did not meet up with Kevin. And Kevin is not my boyfriend.” Poor Kevin had not received any texts from her in days. “Anyway, you would just go and tell the police anything I told you.” Charity sat down on her bed and pulled off her socks.
“I really don’t think the detectives are interested in you and your boyfriend.”
“I didn’t visit my boyfriend. I don’t even have a boyfriend, not really. Now, will you please go so I can go to sleep?”
Hope did not retreat. In fact, she moved even closer to Charity.
“Hey, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have gone on Elizabeth Wilcox’s phone. And I never meant to hurt you.”
“Didn’t you? Don’t you want to hurt Mom and Dad and trash everything we believe in?”
“Is that what you think?”
“Of course, it’s what I think! You’ve been bashing our faith ever since Mom and Dad found out about your affair.”
Hope exhaled and sat down on the bed next to Charity. “So what, you think I’m an atheist or something?”
“I don’t know. But you don’t believe what we do.”
“Do you want to know what I believe?” Hope hung the question like a dare; Charity said nothing in return, so Hope barreled forward. “I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe that He died for my sins and has risen from the dead. And I do believe He’s coming back again. I go to church to every week. I read my Bible and pray just about every day. But I do not, I repeat, do not believe in Holy Spirit Tabernacle. I don’t believe the way they do things is right. I believe they’re controlling and they whitewash everything that happens in the lives of the people in the church.”
Charity’s mouth gaped open. She knew the last part—that Hope objected to the rigid set of rules and structures Holy Spirit Tabernacle imposed on people’s lives. But she had no idea that Hope still identified as a Christian. The idea seemed preposterous.
“But what about all those things you did in high school?”
“Yes, I did do that. I did other stupid things that I later regretted. But I wasn’t able to actually regret those things until I moved out of our church. I couldn’t hear or see myself there.”
“But what about the jokes you make about Christianity? And the way you’ve stayed distant from Mom and Dad? Why didn’t you ever tell them that you still believe?”
Hope shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I felt like I had good reasons and sometimes I felt like it was dumb, or worse, mean.”
“You should tell them. They worry so much about you. Every once in a while, I catch Mom crying when she looks at your pictures.”
Her older sister grimaced. “Before I leave, I’ll tell Mom and Dad, okay?”
“Okay.” Charity smiled. Her anger toward Hope began to evaporate. And for just a few moments, she forgot all about the murder case that hovered over her family and everyone in their church. For the last two years, a schism had separated her family. Now, she felt like that fracture could be mended and they could return to the way things used to be. But after Hope retired to her room and Charity lay down in the quiet darkness, her thoughts returned to Elizabeth Wilcox and Jason Watkins. Her smile disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-Six
While Charity Price snuck into her house, Seitzer climbed the few steps to the Holy Spirit Tabernacle parsonage, warrant in hand. A single light on the ground floor indicated someone was awake. He wrapped his knuckle against the door. Seitzer only needed to wait a minute before he heard someone approach on the other side.
Elizabeth Wilcox opened the door. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a fleece top and sweatpants. She looked pretty, but exhausted. Though she seemed strong and composed before, the toll that the last week had taken on her had begun to show around her eyes—not just in the dark circles underneath, but also in the listlessness creeping into her irises. Seitzer suddenly felt guilty for serving the warrant.
She gave him a partial smile. “Hi, Detective. What brings you by?”
“I had a few questions I needed to ask you, hopefully in private.”
“Come in,” she said. “Don’t worry, everyone else in the house is asleep, besides me.” Elizabeth closed the door as Seitzer entered. She walked over to the couch where she sat down and put a pillow on her lap.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Seitzer asked.
“No. I haven’t been sleeping too much lately.”
“I thought you had the sleeping pills.”
“I haven’t taken them since Graham died. I wanted to be available during the night, in case my kids needed me. I thought maybe they would have problems sleeping, too.”
“Have they?”
“Abigail sleeps pretty well. She’s had a few nightmares since the murder. I’ve found Titus lying awake in bed in the middle of the night. We’ve stayed up together a few times.”
Seitzer nodded. He still struggled to believe this woman was capable of killing her husband. Perhaps he just didn’t want to believe, but Seitzer couldn’t imagine the widow would do anything that would endanger the emotional wellbeing of her children.
“So what was it that you wanted to ask me, Detective?” Elizabeth hugged the pillow as she folded her legs beneath her body.
“I have a warrant to search your cellphone,” Seitzer said, electing not to tiptoe around the issue. He took the warrant out of his jacket pocket and held it up for Elizabeth Wilcox to see. Seitzer suspected she would have given the phone to him without a warrant if he had just asked.
A look of concern glossed over the woman’s face. “Is there some kind of problem, or something that you’re looking for?”
“We’ve received some information about messages between yourself and Jason Watkins. What is your relationship to Mr. Watkins?”
Her concerned expression morphed into something a little more disturbed. “We were just friends.”
“So the two of you weren’t involved with one another?”
“Involved? No. We were both married.”
“As much as I would like to believe that all husbands and wives honor the sanctity of marriage, they don’t always. Many times, they don’t intend it to get that far, but things happen.”
“That’s not what was going on between Jason and me.”
“What was going on?”
“Jason thought I looked sad one day at church, so he sent me a message to cheer me up.”
“So that was it—he sent you one message?” Seitzer, of course, knew many more texts had been exchanged. But he wanted to see what Elizabeth Wilcox would divulge and also didn’t want to admit he had seen all of the messages already.
“No, I replied to him.”
“What did you say?”
“I just thanked him for noticing and for trying to encourage me.”
“So that was it? It ended there?”
She sighed. “No. We started texting each other occasionally.”
“Every day?”
“Not necessarily. Sometimes, though. It wasn’t like we had these extended conversations back and forth. It was just a text here and there.”
“Did you ever talk on the phone?”
“No, we just texted.”
“Did the messages ever get romantic or sexual in nature?”
“No. We were just friends.” Her tone oscillated between guilt-ridden and defensive.
“It must have been nice receiving that attention when your own husband ignored you. People have cheated over less. And from what I’ve heard, Jason Watkins is a very good looking guy and you are a beautiful woman.”
“I’m sure it looks bad from your vantage point, but I swear to you nothing else happened. Despite Graham’s and my struggles, I never would have cheated on him. And Jason
would’ve never cheated on Theresa.”
“Were Jason and Theresa Watkins having difficulties in their marriage?”
“We never got into specifics, but yes, I think they were. You could tell Theresa wasn’t really into the church stuff as much as Jason was.”
When Seitzer didn’t immediately ask a follow-up question, Elizabeth spoke again. “Look, I knew it wasn’t a good idea for Jason and me to be texting each other, but nothing was happening between us.”
“Are you sure Jason had the same idea about your relationship that you did? Maybe he didn’t think it was nothing.”
“I’m sure he told himself the same thing I told myself—that nothing could happen.”
“Did you want something to happen?”
“No. I just wanted to be noticed, to have someone value me. Graham didn’t do either of those things anymore. That was all this was about for me.”
“I’m still going to need to take your phone as evidence,” Seitzer said without blinking.
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied. She lowered her eyes at him and walked briskly up the stairs. While she attempted to locate her phone, Seitzer entertained the strangest thought that she might come back downstairs with the missing .357—the one that fired two bullets through her husband’s head—and take a shot at him. But when Elizabeth Wilcox came down the stairs, she held only her phone in her hand.
“Here.” She extended the phone to the detective, who with a gloved hand placed it into an evidence bag.
Once he sealed the bag, Seitzer met Elizabeth’s gaze. “Now, I’m hoping that I find nothing incriminating on this phone. I hope you’re just an innocent victim in all of this. But if I find any evidence at all that points to your involvement in your husband’s death, I will follow that evidence to its natural conclusion.”
“I understand,” she replied.
“With that in mind, is there anything else on this phone that you’d like to tell me about before I see it with my own eyes? Any other texts, deleted messages, sent messages? Because I assure you that we will find stuff on this phone that you don’t even think is possible for us to find.”
Elizabeth looked away and wrapped her arms around herself.
Everyone Was Left Behind Page 16
