by Geri Krotow
“Oh?” Zora hadn’t seen the mayor’s name in any of Katherine’s notes. And judging by how the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, she thought she might understand why Katherine would have overlooked the mayor’s request. A politician delivering a sermon? Really?
“Well, yes, it’s so important to me that the people of Silver Valley who elected me understand that I share the same traditional values that they do.”
“And what, exactly, are those values, Mayor Lemmon?”
Bryce’s hand increased its pressure on her lower back and she got his message: cool it. She chose to ignore him.
“Well, we don’t know each other well, Reverend Hammermill, but I’m sure we share some of the same views on how our current culture is ripping apart the fabric of what Silver Valley stands for. Family, community.”
“I’m not sure we do, Mayor, but if you’d kindly send my secretary an email with your request we’ll be sure to consider it.”
“But Reverend Pearson already told me I’d have a chance to speak.”
“There’s so much going on with Katherine having to go home to her mother, and during such a busy season. Plus the concerns about the Female Preacher Killer. We have to keep security as our number one concern, I’m afraid. I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about security. Detective Campbell will guarantee that, won’t you?” Zora swore the woman glowered at Bryce.
“It’s not your security I’m worried about, Mayor. It’s my congregation. If you come in for a service, and do so publicly, that might encourage the shooter to show up, for more publicity.”
“I wouldn’t tell more than one or two of the local news stations, believe me.”
Bryce smiled. “I’m sure you won’t, Mayor. As my fiancée said, she’ll take full consideration of your request, and see what kind of security detail SVPD can provide if your request is approved.”
“Well, I must say I’ll be very disappointed if it doesn’t work out. I know so many families in the congregation and they were counting on getting photos with me for their Christmas cards.”
“That can still be arranged, Mayor. If you don’t mind, Bryce and I must go in. They’re getting ready to close the silent auction.”
Bryce followed her lead and turned with her away from the mayor.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Zora covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “What is with that woman?”
“She’s an interesting character, and a politician all the way.”
“I got the impression she’s not a fan of yours. Any reason?”
“Several, including SVPD tickets for not licensing her dogs, and her penchant for illegally parking downtown.”
“It’s her town—why can’t she use the mayor’s parking spot?”
“This was before she was elected. The election was a huge fiasco, with both sides accusing the other of foul play.”
“I remember that. I was in the middle of a short op for...you know, but caught some of it on the news. She got elected after all.”
“She did. And whether I’m a fan of hers or not is irrelevant. I support all elected officials equally. And as for your comment that Silver Valley is her town, I beg to differ.”
“Oh?”
“Silver Valley is our town. She’s an elected official, period.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“You’ll never get me on your counseling couch.” Bryce’s expression was playful.
“I don’t recall asking you.”
“You don’t have to. Your eyes give it away. Seriously, though? I’ve never given it much thought.”
“It’s okay if you’re not a fan of psychology. You’re entitled to your opinion.” It didn’t surprise her that he might have an issue with counselors, since first responders were required to receive counseling at regular intervals and after particularly grueling ops. They were often fearful that they’d be put on administrative or medical leave because of a counselor’s findings.
“It’s not personal. I’m ambivalent. I know you help a lot of folks.” He pulled out her chair and took her elbow, allowing her to sit with minimal discomfort. “It’s nice to see you moving without wincing.”
“It feels pretty good, too.”
She accepted his change of subject. They turned their attention back to the gala.
* * *
At the table, Zora remembered why she didn’t miss the social requirements that navy life demanded. It was getting closer to midnight and she wanted nothing more than to crawl between her covers and sleep.
Of course there was the small issue of a killer being after her.
They’d made small talk with the three other couples at the table. There was another minister and his wife, the mayor of Silver Valley—who pointedly ignored them—and her husband, as well as the superintendent of the Silver Valley School District and her husband.
“Do you think you won the yarn basket?”
“Doubtful.”
“Why so grumpy? Are you an early-to-bed kind of girl?”
She turned to give him a scathing retort when her cell phone vibrated in her clutch. Bryce’s phone lit up at the same time. Zora kept the phone just inside her opened clutch but both she and Bryce could read it.
Another minister attacked. Get home ASAP.
Bryce looked at her and she watched his expression go from neutral to grim.
“You got the same message?”
“Yes. Time to roll, partner.”
They made quick excuses to their table mates and worked their way out of the ballroom in short order. Once outside, they stood away from the valet as they waited for Bryce’s SUV to pull up.
“He didn’t wait long. It’s not even officially the fourth Sunday of Advent.”
“No.”
“He’s going to try something at the children’s pageant on Christmas Eve. That’s the big showstopper, isn’t it?”
“We can’t know for sure, but yes, you could be right. No matter what, you’re not doing this alone, Zora. That’s how it is with local law enforcement—no one is a loner. We are a team.”
“So you’ve mentioned. It was like that in the navy. I get it.”
“Good.” Judging by his determined tone, she knew he’d do whatever it took to protect her.
“Bryce, we’re partners and we have each other’s backs, one hundred percent. But you wouldn’t put my safety over catching the killer, would you?”
“Of course I would.”
She shook her head. “This is where my military training conflicts with our mission. Sometimes you have to keep the mission first. Above all else. I can handle my own safety.”
“Like you did in your driveway?”
“My Kevlar saved me. I’m the one who put it on.”
“If the shooter had aimed at your head we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Unless the shooter didn’t meant to hurt me, not seriously. Maybe it was just a warning.”
“Doubtful. You got lucky, Zora. Let’s leave it at that.”
She didn’t totally disagree with him but she didn’t believe in luck so much as in being prepared and doing your best with whatever was beyond your control.
They remained silent as they drove the I-83 South Bridge across the Susquehanna River. Zora looked at Bryce. His profile revealed nothing, but she couldn’t stop watching as the bright highway lamps shone through the windshield, spotlighting his face. “Stop staring at me.”
“I’m not staring, I’m looking. I’m trying to relate the Bryce I knew back then with who you are today.”
“Forget it, Zora. We’ve got a job to do and the kids we were wouldn’t have the first inkling of how to handle it. We do.”
“Right.” Of course he was right. He was an expert at what he did. She still felt like such a newbie when it came to law enforcement, even with the exceptional training of the Trail Hikers.
Chapter 11
Claudia was waiting in he
r car in Zora’s wide driveway when they pulled up.
“Does she ever sleep?” Bryce cut the engine after he parked next to the small black sedan. Low-profile enough to be unremarkable but Zora bet Claudia had the car outfitted with every technological gadget available. And probably those not available to the general public yet.
“I’ve determined that she sleeps less than two hours per day in order to get her job done.”
“You didn’t get a lot of sleep when you were on a ship, did you?”
“It wasn’t that bad. Watch schedules can be grueling, especially during wartime operations, whether they’re shipboard or at a remote location. There was always a spot here or there to get a power nap. That’s what I learned to get by with.”
“It’s the same with SVPD. Most days are routine and I get a decent night’s sleep. But then there are other times when sleep can’t be a priority.”
“Other times” applied to finding the Female Preacher Killer, she assumed.
As they opened both car doors, they could hear Butternut’s frantic barking. Rounding the hoods of both cars, Zora noted how much they steamed. The temperature had dropped several degrees since they’d left for the gala earlier this evening.
“Claudia.” Bryce spoke first, remembering to stick to first names.
“Let’s get into the house before Butternut has a stroke.”
Zora waved her hand in dismissal.
“She knows it’s us out here—that’s her friendly bark. When there’s a stranger she mostly growls with shorter, sharper barks.”
“Good to know.” Bryce fell into step behind her and Claudia. A gentleman even when working an op.
“Butternut, it’s okay.” She flicked on the hall light and bent down to scratch the worked-up dog.
“Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable at the table while I let Butternut out for a few minutes.”
She took the dog back to the mudroom and opened the door to allow Butternut access to the large area she’d fenced off. The electric fence sent a warning beep to Butternut’s collar to let her know if she was getting too close to the perimeter. Zora had hated the idea of a shock collar of any type, but Butternut had been trained quickly and only ever received a light shock when the fence was first installed. She never went out of her area, even for the many deer and rabbits that frequented the area.
But if Butternut felt that Zora was in danger, she’d break the barrier without a second’s hesitation.
As Zora surveyed the frozen ground, her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the glow from the house windows and the moonlight the only illumination. Butternut sniffed furiously all around the small porch and on the ground next to the house.
“What do you smell, girl, a rabbit?”
Please don’t let it be a skunk. Butternut had been sprayed last year by a local black-and-white furry beauty, and the scent took weeks to fade.
Shivering in her wrap, she peered at the ground and abruptly stopped shaking.
Footprints. Deep, the tread most likely from boots. Imprinted on the muddy, recently frozen ground around her home.
She bent closer and ran her fingers over one of the prints—it was frozen with crystal drops of frost on each tread mark. Zora tiptoed off the porch in her heels and quickly followed the path made by the visitor. He’d gone up to the porch, and around the house to her bedroom window. The prints then went toward the woods, where she was unable to ascertain which direction they took—and she doubted there’d be definite tracks there, with the leaves carpeting the forest floor.
Even with the bright moonlight she felt she’d been plunged into a darker version of Silver Valley. Someone was awfully interested in her and her house. And had avoided the police security detail.
* * *
Back inside, Zora was relieved to see that Bryce and Claudia had made themselves at home with a steaming-hot carafe of fresh coffee. Half-and-half, sugar and Stevia were placed neatly next to the mugs they’d found.
“Someone was here tonight.”
Claudia and Bryce stopped their conversation and stared at her.
“When?” Bryce was on full alert. If he were a dog she swore she’d see his hackles rise.
“I’m not sure, but there are footprints out back that indicate he was interested in the back door and my bedroom window. I always leave the light in my master bathroom on, to give me a chance to see when I get in.”
“Call in forensics.” Claudia directed her order at Bryce, who was already texting furiously on his smartphone.
“They’re on their way.”
“They’re going to start to despise coming to my place.” Zora poured herself a half cup of coffee, not needing a lot of caffeine to stimulate her mind. It was already racing with the stark reality that the killer could have stopped by to kill her.
“He knew the police were out front, and took advantage of the woods,” she mused aloud.
“Bryce, isn’t the security detail doing regular walk arounds?”
“Up to the end of the driveway, where they can see the back of the house. They’re not walking through the yard.”
“Butternut would have alerted if she heard anything.”
“But the security team is down at the base of the driveway, in the car for most of the time. They wouldn’t hear her right away.” Bryce spoke as he dialed a number.
“Campbell... Yeah. What have you seen tonight?” He listened as Claudia and Zora waited. “Did you happen to hear the dog barking in the house?...No, it wasn’t at you guys. We had another visitor who came up to the house. The prints are fresh.”
He looked at Zora for confirmation. She nodded, grateful the Trail Hikers training had included imprints as evidence. Those prints couldn’t have been made earlier as the ground had been solid until the deluge of rain had fallen that afternoon. The ground had refrozen that evening in the quickly dropping temperatures that heralded Silver Valley’s first cold snap of the winter.
“Right. Forensics will be here within sixty minutes. It’ll take them a while longer to get everyone up and out the door at this hour....Right.” He put his phone down.
“They never heard Butternut?”
“They did, but they thought she was barking at a herd of deer they saw milling around at dusk. Those woods are thick and lead to nowhere that would allow someone quick access to a highway. I have to admit it was a smart way to come in.”
“Unless he was on a scooter, motorcycle or horse.” Zora had seen all three conveyances since living in the farmhouse.
“A horse is too conspicuous.” Claudia had a faraway look in her eyes as she mulled over the situation, but she didn’t miss a bit of the conversation.
“Wouldn’t they want to kill me—I mean, Reverend Hammermill—closer to the church?” That was what the profiler had suggested.
“He’s killed three ministers, all in their church parking lots.”
“The third—it’s why we’re here. Who was she?” Bryce brought them back to the case.
“Reverend Elizabeth Bissell. She was getting ready to retire from the Methodist church just on the edge of town next month.”
“I know her. She’s a major player at the community helping-hands shelter.” Bryce referred to the clearinghouse of sorts for everything from household and clothing donations to Meals on Wheels for Silver Valley. Every church, synagogue and mosque in the area was involved, and it never turned away anyone in need.
“Her visibility is what got her killed. She was shot in the parking lot of the soup kitchen, two hours after the last bowl of soup had been served.”
Anger surged through Zora.
“How dare they! She was a living angel. If not for her, our community wouldn’t have a place for domestic-violence victims to go.” She’d had several of her counseling clients make use of the secret women’s shelter while they transitioned from living in abject fear and danger to a normal life. It was so gratifying to counsel them through their pain and watch them heal as they moved on to live meaningful li
ves, free from fear. And to see the perpetrators brought to justice.
“Yes.” Claudia’s one-word response weighed heavily in the room, lingering between them.
“She’s gone,” Bryce said. “But her work remains, and no loser like this killer is going to stop the good work she was doing. Not for long, not if we have anything to say about it.”
“Correct, Bryce. I’m here for two reasons. First, to go over what I foresee as the much larger burden the community faces and that you are part of. Second, to let you know, Zora, that you’re not crazy. That was your biological mother in Walmart a few days ago.”
* * *
Bryce watched Zora as Claudia delivered her verbal missive. Instinct told him that Claudia wasn’t referring to Anna, but wasn’t Zora’s mother somewhere in upstate New York? Why would she be in Silver Valley?
“I knew it. How are you so certain?” Zora’s face was a stony mask.
“We used the security camera footage and compared it with photos of your mother that are on file. As you might have guessed, she never left New York State, and only moved one town over from where you’d lived with the True Believers.” Claudia paused and studied Zora intently before she looked at Bryce.
“She’s told you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I filled him in.” They answered simultaneously.
“From what we could ascertain, she moved down here about a month ago.”
“When one of Wise’s cronies was let out of jail.” Bryce couldn’t ignore the timing.
“Is she looking for me?”
“It appears so.”
“How did she find you? You said you were relocated here with WSP.” Bryce wasn’t about to let Zora’s past haunt her if he could help it.
“There was a clause in the legal proceedings that she’d be allowed to know if I was alive and well. I never gave permission to the WSP to let her know my new name, though, or where I lived.”
“She’s been looking for you for years, Zora. You’re her only child and she was devastated over losing you.” Claudia spoke with compassion.
