Tin God

by Stacy Green

  “We have reason to believe her murder is linked to my wife’s. And to Rebecca Newton’s.”

  Gereau tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips. “I don’t follow. Lana was murdered four years ago. In Jackson. How are these new killings connected?”

  Liar, Jaymee’s raging brain screeched. You know exactly what we’re getting at, and as soon as we leave, you’ll be on the phone to Paul. She pressed her fist to her mouth. Talking right now meant unleashing a world of hurt on Gereau, and that would get them nowhere.

  “Some new information has come to light,” Nick said.

  Gereau scratched his chin. “Perhaps you’d best stop skirting around the subject.”

  “You know Paul’s a suspect in Rebecca’s murder,” Jaymee burst out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick turn sharply to glare at her, but she didn’t care. “He strung up her outside cat just like he did mine when I was a little girl. You defended him to Charles, didn’t you? Are you going to defend him to me too?”

  Gereau sagged in his chair, letting his head fall back against the worn leather. Heavy creases formed between his eyes. His face tightened into an expression that looked a hell of a lot like pain. “I’m sorry for the way your father treats you. I tried to be there for you, to guide you as best I could. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”

  Regret simmered in his words, and Jaymee didn’t like the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. Could she have been wrong about Gereau all these years?

  No, he’s a skilled actor–that’s all. She forged ahead. “Are you sorry you advised me to give up my baby?”

  Nick’s hand closed over Jaymee’s wrist, his grip tense with warning. She needed to step back before Gereau clammed up, but her raging emotions propelled her forward in the chair until her hands reached the edge of Gereau’s desk and her nails dug into the worn wood. “Answer me, Reverend.”

  “No, I’m not.” Gereau leaned forward too. “You were a scared teenager with your whole life ahead of you. Your father was–and still is–a tyrant. Your mother…” Gereau shook his head, profound sadness in his eyes. “Her poor soul was lost long ago. Darren was away in college. So was Lana. You were just a baby yourself. If you’d kept her, you would have been dependent on the system. Not only that, your father would have made your life–and hers–a living hell. Having you in Roselea with a child would have shamed him beyond anything you could imagine. Giving her up was best for both of you.”

  The weight building in Jaymee’s chest was paralyzing. If she’d just been using Gereau as a scapegoat all these years…

  No. He knew. She refused to consider any alternative. “That’s not why you did it. You did what was best for Holden Wilcher.”

  She waited, expecting to see red cheeks and hear stuttered lies. Instead, Gereau clasped his hands in his lap and looked confused once again. “I don’t follow. Hannah’s House is Reverend Wilcher’s charity, but I think he would have preferred it if you hadn’t needed his help.”

  Fire ran through her veins. Punching him in the face wouldn’t be enough. Cutting off his deceitful tongue might suffice. She opened her mouth, but all she could do was stare slack-jawed at the ease with which Gereau lied.

  At the back of her cluttered mind, the tiny voice of doubt gained momentum.

  Maybe he’s telling the truth.

  “Are you all right?” Gereau asked.

  Jaymee’s lip stung, and she tasted blood. “No. I haven’t been all right since I signed those adoption papers seven years ago. The papers you knew were fake, the black-market adoption set up to hide the fact that Holden Wilcher was my baby’s father.”

  Boom! Like a nuclear weapon, the words sucked all the air out of the room. Thick tension engulfed the space. Gereau stilled in his wing-backed chair, his ruddy complexion draining until he was sickeningly pale.

  Jaymee allowed herself a grim moment of satisfaction before glancing at Nick, hoping he would forgive her for losing her cool. He laid his hand on her leg, the warm pressure giving her raging heart a dose of peace.

  “Holden Wilcher fathered,” Gereau dragged his fingers across his jaw leaving red marks over his skin, “your child?”

  “As if you didn’t know,” Jaymee spat. “As if you weren’t protecting him when you told me to give Sarah up.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You don’t get to hide anymore, Reverend,” Jaymee said. “You helped him cover up his paternity of Sarah by a fraudulent adoption, and now women are dying because of Wilcher. Now you’re going to tell us everything you know.”

  Gereau’s mouth open and closed like a dying fish trapped in open air. “I don’t know anything. I always assumed the baby was Cage Foster’s. I didn’t ask because it was never my business. I just wanted what was best for you, Jaymee. Always.”

  “Cage?” Jaymee’s throat hurt from the force of her yell. Nick squeezed her knee, but she couldn’t stop. “Don’t you dare drag him into this. And don’t pretend to care about me.”

  He jerked back as though she’d hit him. Moisture brewed in his eyes. “Of course I care, Jaymee. This–I don’t…this just isn’t possible.”

  Her head pulsed. The nagging doubt was now a scream. She clamped her eyes shut and tried to think straight.

  “But it is, Reverend,” Nick spoke. “Holden Wilcher took advantage of Jaymee’s need for a father figure. She got pregnant; he convinced her to keep quiet and have the baby at Hannah’s House. His own charity doubled as a front for Sarah’s black-market adoption.”

  “Why do you think the adoption was illegal? You filled out paperwork, didn’t you?”

  “Paperwork given to me by a social worker no one can find. Paperwork that was never filed.”

  Gereau seemed to shrink in his chair. He reached for his desk, his fingertips banging against the wood. “I don’t understand.”

  “When Jaymee took off to Jackson and told Lana everything, my wife started digging for information. And found absolutely nothing. No social worker. No adoption. It’s as if Sarah didn’t exist.”

  Jaymee swallowed the pain from those words. “Wilcher needed a shady attorney. The day she was killed, Lana had lunch with a friend. She saw Royce Newton with my father and Wilcher. She was angry and made it clear to the friend she was with, Wilcher was in something deep.”

  “Lana knew the truth.” Jaymee couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. “Just when she got close, she was murdered. Rebecca Newton knew some of the truth–maybe more than I realized. Royce told Crystal Harns his wife knew something that could bring him down just before Rebecca was murdered. Crystal knew the truth about Wilcher, too. Now she’s dead.”

  Gereau stared at her in disbelief. “Are you saying you think Reverend Wilcher is having these women murdered to keep this secret?”

  “Yes, and Sarah wasn’t the first. Lana found evidence of another woman he’d fathered a child with and forced to give the child up. Of course, that evidence disappeared when Lana was killed.”

  “There’s a lot of money to be made in black-market adoptions,” Nick said. “I doubt Wilcher stopped with his own offspring.”

  Gereau stood up and walked to his bookcase. With trembling fingers, he pulled out a weathered Bible. For several seconds, he stared down at the faded lettering, tracing the gilded words with his thumb.

  “But you have no tangible proof,” Gereau said, raising his gaze back to theirs.

  “Not yet,” Nick said.

  “And you want me to give you some.”

  “Everything you know,” Jaymee said.

  His smile was laced with bitterness. “I know nothing. Far less than I thought.”

  Feeling as though her head might explode, Jaymee stood and faced Gereau. “I don’t believe you. Maybe you’re scared. Fine. But it’s time to do the right thing, Reverend. Isn’t that what being a man of the cloth is about? Or are you no better than Wilcher?”

  His eyes flashed to hers. Anger emanated from them so strongly, Jaymee stepped back.

  “I’m n
othing like Wilcher. Had I any idea what he’d done to you, I would have hauled him before the church–the entire state of Mississippi–and held him accountable for his sins.”

  The force of his words stalled her instant denial. Guilt weighed on his features–the same expression Jaymee saw every time she looked in the mirror and thought of Lana, Rebecca, and Crystal.

  Jaymee bowed her head. Her lungs constricted with the threat of angry sobs. Gereau hadn’t known.

  “Fine.” Nick took over as he stood. “What do you think of Paul Ballard?”

  “He’s a coldhearted bastard who shouldn’t have been allowed to be a parent.”

  “You think he’s capable of murder?” Nick asked.

  “I think he’d do whatever it took to protect his precious reputation and high standing in the church. He’s obsessed with it. Always has been.”

  “Then why are you such good buddies with him?” Jaymee accused.

  Disgust and then shame flashed over Gereau’s face. “It’s always best to keep the peace with Paul. We both know who he takes his anger out on.”

  “Why didn’t you help her?” Jaymee demanded.

  Gereau tugged at his collar, his posture slumped. “I was a coward. Plain and simple.”

  “Yes, you are.” The urge to berate Gereau for sitting idly by while her mother suffer swelled inside Jaymee, but she clamped her mouth shut. They needed Gereau.

  “And Wilcher?” Nick asked.

  Gereau set the Bible back down. His hand drifted toward Jaymee’s shoulder then fell to his side. “Apparently I don’t know the man at all.”

  “You do,” Nick said. “Think about his personality.”

  Deep wrinkles stretched across Gereau’s forehead. He stared blankly for a moment and then dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh of resignation. “He’s a leader, the drill sergeant. Not the kind that goes out into battle, but the kind who hides behind the front lines and takes credit for all the sacrifice by the grunts.”

  “So he’s not the killer but pulling the strings,” Nick pressed. “Royce Newton’s the dirty attorney. We all know who the muscle is.”

  “Paul.” Jaymee didn’t try to mask her hate.

  Gereau nodded. “If any one of these men is a killer, it would be him.”

  “We need your help, Reverend.” Nick sat on the edge of the desk, calm and in control.

  Gereau looked at Nick and then at Jaymee. Eyes wide, mouth partially opened, he looked like a man on fire. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “We’ve got to tie Paul to one of these murders,” Nick said. “Get him in the hot seat. If Charles is any kind of investigator, with the right kind of evidence, he’ll get Paul to talk.”

  “Well, that’s easy.”

  Jaymee’s gaze narrowed. “What’s easy?”

  “I’m a man of the cloth, as you said. I hoped Paul’s being a suspect in Rebecca’s murder was a misunderstanding. But after hearing about Crystal’s murder, and what you’ve all told me–”

  “I don’t follow.” Nick pushed back to his feet.

  “Paul Ballard was a client of Crystal’s. They had a running meeting on Monday nights. I’m quite sure he saw her last night.”

  Jaymee was too shocked to be disgusted. “You’re willing to tell this to Detective Charles?”

  “Absolutely.” Gereau walked to the desk and dug out a set of keys. “Right now, in fact.”

  19

  Damn, the adrenaline rush. Happened every time he was close to nailing a story. This was no different. He could smell the truth. Sense the victory celebration.

  Nick pulled out of the church’s parking lot with Jaymee. Gereau’s car followed.

  “I’ll drop you off at work. Soon as we’re done with Charles, I’ll come back to the diner and fill you in.”

  “Whatever.” Jaymee’s hard voice was directed at the window.

  “What’s wrong? Gereau’s on our side. You were wrong about him, and that’s a good thing.”

  “I wasn’t.” Her sharp voice hurt his ears. “He lied to me. He’s suckering you and trying to save his own damned skin.”

  “Jaymee.” Nick reached for her arm. She yanked it away.

  “Look, I’ve interviewed a lot of people. Taken classes on body language. Even sat in on a police course about it. Gereau’s telling the truth.”

  “No.” Even as she spoke, Jaymee’s face betrayed her. She knew Gereau was telling the truth just as much as Nick did. She just didn’t want to believe she’d been wrong about the man.

  “I know it’s hard.”

  “No, you don’t know. You might try, but it’s impossible for you to know the same pain I do.”

  He said no more. He pulled up in front of Sallie’s expecting Jaymee to leap out and run for cover. She stayed. He waited.

  Jaymee rocked forward, her face contorted in agony. Her head twisted from side to side as if she were fighting to keep the truth out of her thoughts. “Ever since Lana figured out I’d been lied to, I’ve blamed Penn Gereau. He was my last hope before I gave Sarah away. And he let me down.”

  “He was easy to blame.”

  “I don’t know what to do now.” She fell back against the seat, eyelashes wet with unshed tears.

  He took her hand, and she grasped his fingers hard enough to send a tremor of pain up his arm. “Of course you do. Move forward. This time, Gereau’s truly on your side.”

  “I suppose I should apologize to him.”

  “I doubt he expects that. He’s not the only one on your side.” Need got the best of him once more. With his free hand, he brushed her hair off her cheek, caressing her soft skin. His hand lingered near her mouth.

  “I know.” She brushed his thumb with her lips. Then she ran, opening and slamming the car door. She cut across a sidewalk of tourists and disappeared into the diner.

  Nick dropped his head against his seat, pulse racing and palms damp with sweat. That woman had done more to him with one tiny gesture than she could have if she’d told him she was falling in love with him. As his vision cleared, he spotted an angry face looming in the midday crowd.

  Cage. He’d no doubt witnessed the entire exchange.

  Cage strode past the crowds to the driver’s side of the Taurus. Shit. Nick didn’t have time for an ego-stroking session. He needed to meet Gereau at the station and make sure he didn’t tell Detective Charles too much.

  He rolled down the window. “Hey, tried to call you. We just talked to Gereau.”

  Cage’s hand hovered over his gun belt. He looked like he wanted to rip Nick out of the car and go a few rounds. “Yeah?”

  “He didn’t know,” Nick said. He told Cage about Gereau’s reaction—that even Jaymee agreed the reverend was telling the truth. “And get this. Paul Ballard was a client of Crystal’s. I’m meeting Gereau at the station in a few minutes.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Ballard needs to sweat it. If he’s the muscle, he might still cover his own hide. Charles needs to see him as a suspect in all three murders, including Lana’s. I intend to make him do that.”

  “You going to tell him about the baby and the adoptions?”

  “Not yet. We need more tangible proof.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Can you make it?”

  “I’m headed out to serve a warrant for a suspected meth lab.”

  Nick made a show of checking his watch. “I’ve got to go. Gereau’s probably there now.”

  Cage didn’t move. His right hand closed over his gun while the left clutched the open window sill. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses, but his hard expression said everything. The vein in his neck pulsed amid tense muscles.

  “Look, about what you saw–”

  “What would Lana think of you coming down here and seducing the woman she thought of as a little sister?”

  “It’s complicated, Cage.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s you preying on a vulnerable woman.”

  “Jaymee’s too smart for that,�
�� Nick said.

  “I noticed you don’t deny it.”

  “I shouldn’t have to. You know me better than that.”

  “Thought I did.” A note of pain crept through Cage’s anger.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “You need to back off Jaymee. She’s—”

  “Yours?” Nick couldn’t stop the taunt. “You know that’s not true. Never has been. Never will be.”

  Cage’s knuckles turned white. Nick half-expected him to shove the gun in his face.

  “I don’t want to fight with you. But you need to talk to Jaymee, not me. Get this shit between you two settled.” Nick hit the button to roll up the window. Cage hesitated and then moved his hand.

  “I’ll call you after we talk to Detective Charles.” He pulled out into traffic, leaving Cage standing in the street. He shouldn’t have baited him, but Cage needed to move on.

  And what about Nick’s own life?

  Lana was gone. She’d want Nick to be happy. She’d understand, eventually.

  He rolled his eyes as he pulled into a parking space. How stupid, talking about Lana as if she’d have any living reaction other than to kick his ass to the curb. He was hardly honoring her memory by going after her friend. He needed to be a man, do the right thing by his wife, make the sacrifice to leave Jaymee alone.

  Trouble was, he didn’t think he had the strength.

  Gereau stepped out of a dark sedan as Nick arrived at the station and parked his car. Nick stuck Jaymee and his conscience on a back burner and got out to meet Gereau near the police station’s doors.

  “Don’t mention anything about the baby or the black-market adoptions,” he reminded the reverend. “We don’t have the proof–yet. Charles’ll chalk that up to theory and to Jaymee going after her father. Right now, he just needs to see Ballard is tied to all three women.”

  “When are you planning on telling him about Reverend Wilcher?” Gereau ground out the words, his disgust palpable.

  “That’s Jaymee’s call. Right now, all we’ve got is circumstantial evidence.”