by Traci DePree
“What can I do for you ladies?” He quickly removed his feet from the desktop, where they’d been resting. “Did you want to visit Tim?” He started to stand to get the cell’s keys. “He sure has had a lot of visitors today.”
“We’re looking for Agent Norris,” Kate said.
The deputy sat back in his chair. “That right? Or maybe I can help you...”
Kate noted how he puffed out his chest ever so slightly.
“No. We really need Agent Norris. Sorry, Skip,” Kate said.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Hanlon. I guess Norris is probably at his hotel room.”
IT SEEMED THE US GOVERNMENT had cash to spare when it came to housing their Secret Service agents on special missions. Kate and Livvy found Agent Norris at the Hamilton Springs Hotel. Kate had called his cell number, which she got from the business card he had distributed, telling him that she had new information in the case. He invited her and Livvy up to talk.
It struck her as a bit odd, being invited into the man’s hotel room, especially considering his earlier rebuff for her sleuthing on the case. But there was much about the man that struck Kate as odd, and she felt glad that Livvy was by her side.
“You say you have new information?” He met them at the door, his tall frame looming, his eyes penetrating.
“We do.” Kate nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.
He opened the door wider, allowing them to come inside. The room was immaculate, not even a wrinkle on the beds. The TV remote lay on top of a glass-topped table.
Agent Norris led them to the seating area, where Kate and Livvy took the couch like nervous teenagers at a job interview. Why should she feel nervous? Kate wondered. But there was something different about that afternoon’s encounter. Something about the way the man held himself. No doubt it was his large-and-in-charge attitude. She took a deep breath and smiled at him, glancing down at his loafers.
Kate laid the counterfeit bill Livvy had retrieved from the soda machine on the table.
The blond agent raised an eyebrow.
“It was one of the fake bills from the bake sale,” Kate explained, her face turning red with the admission.
His brow puckered.
Kate cleared her throat and went on. “I must’ve gotten it in change. When I examined it more closely, I noticed that it has faded areas.”
The agent nodded as if he was already aware of the fact.
“If you’ll look closely, you’ll see that the security thread, that should read ‘$20,’ in fact reads ‘$5.’”
The man’s face blanched. He glanced at the note. “Really?” He seemed surprised. Even a bit offended.
Kate hated one-upping the man, but he should at least have been grateful that she was sharing information with him. Shouldn’t he? Agent Norris got up abruptly and shuffled through a box on the floor on the opposite side of the room. He returned with a magnifying glass and bent to study the note.
When he lifted his face, Kate could tell he’d figured out the implications of the discovery too.
“You see,” Kate said. “It’s real money. This person is bleaching the denomination sections on lower-value bills and reprinting them at a higher value.” She paused to allow the man to take in the meaning of her words.
Finally Agent Norris met her eyes. “You’re a pretty smart woman, Mrs. Hanlon.” He shook his head. “Have you told anyone else this?”
“No, just you. And Livvy here, of course.”
Livvy offered a meek smile.
“Well, I appreciate you letting me know.”
“But don’t you see?” Kate went on. “It means that Tim Lourdes can’t be guilty.”
The agent scratched his head, and his thick brows knit together over his crooked nose. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“There was no bleach found at the storage facility, no sink to rinse it or water and soap to neutralize it.”
The agent shook his head. “All that means is he bleached it somewhere else and did only a portion of the work there.” He pursed his lips. “It makes sense from a criminal perspective to use multiple sites—less evidence all together.”
Kate’s heart sank.
“I’m going to take this into evidence, if that’s okay with you,” Agent Norris said, pointing to the bill.
“Of course.”
“And...uh...thank you again, Mrs. Hanlon. You’ve shed some light on a lot of things today.”
Chapter Thirty-One
That night, Jake Lourdes took a turn for the worse. Kate rushed to the hospital in Chattanooga when Amy called with the news.
When she walked into the ICU waiting room, Amy informed her, “His lungs are infected. It’s a bad one this time.”
THE NEXT FEW DAYS were torture for the Lourdes family. Kate had seen it in the listless way Amy looked at her. The young woman was losing heart.
Not only did Jake make no progress physically, it seemed the courts had stalled with regard to moving up Tim’s trial. Tim’s lawyer had made a motion to that effect shortly after Jake was transferred to Chattanooga, yet, given the gravity and nature of the crime he was alleged to have committed, the judge wouldn’t budge. Due process, he’d asserted, meant that all parties would have enough time to prepare for the upcoming trial.
When the option of bail came up, the judge asserted that anyone capable of avoiding the law as long as Tim had could just as easily slip into oblivion and never be heard from again.
Yet every time Kate went in to see Tim at the jail, his spirits seemed lifted, his hope renewed even though circumstances had become more difficult. No doubt the many visitors who now came to see him—as a result of Paul’s sermon, no doubt—did much to bolster his faith. And, Tim had said, he’d been reading the letters of the Apostle Paul.
“I understand what it means to be falsely accused,” Tim said to Kate on Wednesday, “and to be powerless to defend myself. Having everyone thinking I’m a thief and a liar.” He shook his head and blew out a breath. “I’ve come to realize that’s how it was for Christ. Even though he could’ve said, ‘Hey, they’re lying about me! Don’t you know who I am?’ he just took it. Do you know how hard that is? To have someone think something bad about you and not say a thing to defend yourself?”
Kate nodded as a smile grew on her lips.
“Yet,” he went on, “it doesn’t matter to me anymore—what people think. They can think I’m guilty, but I know that God sees my heart, and he loves me as I am.” He leaned forward, a light in his blue eyes. “That’s so powerful—to be able to lay my full self out there and still be accepted.”
“That’s what forgiveness is,” Kate said.
“I never understood it on this level before.” Tim laughed to himself. “Who knew that jail could be a good thing in some ways?”
“God works all things—” she began, paraphrasing the Scripture, but Tim finished it.
“To the good for them that love God and are called according to his purpose.”
“He does,” Kate confirmed. “And he will for you and your family.”
IT WAS A GOOD THING Tim was feeling renewed in his faith, Kate realized the next morning when Amy called.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“Jake’s lung collapsed last night.”
Kate’s heart hammered with the news. “Is he okay?”
“He’s stable, but they’re saying he needs a lung transplant.”
“Oh, Amy. I’m so sorry.” Kate was devastated. She closed her eyes.
“I don’t know what to do, Kate.” The panic in her voice sent a pang through Kate’s heart.
“What’s Jake doing right now?”
“Sleeping.”
“Have you gotten any rest yourself?”
“How can I?” Amy began.
“You’ll get sick if you don’t take care of yourself, Amy. Then what good will you be to Jake?”
“I’ll lay down when I get off the phone,” she promised.
Kate put a smile in her tone
. “I’ll come as soon as we get off the phone, okay? You can take a break, maybe even drive home and spend a little time with your husband. He misses you.”
“I miss him too.” Amy’s voice cracked.
“Then it’s settled.” Kate looked at her watch. It was seven o’clock. “I have to gather a few items and leave a note for Paul. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
KATE WATCHED the six-year-old boy as he slept. He reminded her of her own son, Andrew, at the same age—that sweet innocence, especially in slumber, the way his hair spiked in every direction and his long lashes kissed his cheeks. He moaned and moved his head from side to side. Kate touched his hot brow. How long had he had that fever? Almost involuntarily, a prayer rose in her for the little boy.
When she lifted her head, he was looking at her. His face was flushed, and his eyes lacked their usual luster.
“Where’s my mom?” he said, casting his eyes around the room.
“I told her to go home, to sleep. She’s really tired.”
Jake nodded his understanding.
“How are you feeling?” Kate brushed his bangs from his forehead.
“Thirsty.”
Kate retrieved the plastic water pitcher and filled it with cold water before returning and pouring water into the cup on his tray. Then she pushed the button that changed the bed’s position so he was sitting up. Jake took a slow drink.
“I had a dream,” he finally said when he set the cup back on the rolling table.
Kate returned to the chair next to his bed.
“We were all together,” he went on. “Me, Mommy, Daddy. And there was that man.” His brow puckered, forming a line above his nose.
“What man?”
“That one who said Dad was in cahoots.”
“Agent Norris?”
“He was looking at me, and I was asleep again.”
Kate stared at the boy as a memory flashed. The night she’d gone to the Lourdes’ home after Tim’s arrest, Jake had been at the neighbor’s. Had he seen the man before she arrived? She didn’t think so.
“Jake,” Kate said. “Did you talk to Agent Norris the night your daddy was taken to jail?”
Jake shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I didn’t see him that day. He came the next morning. Mommy was outside, talking to the neighbor.”
“Did she let him in the house?”
“Nope. He told me to be very quiet, that he didn’t want me to get her.”
Kate frowned. “Did he say why?”
Jake’s eyes clouded, and he stared at the blanket.
“Jake,” Kate prompted. She touched his hand where it rested on the bed. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“He said Daddy was a bad man, in cahoots. Then he said he had to get more evi...stuff to prove to the judge what Daddy had been doing.”
Kate stared at him. “Did you see what he took?”
“All kinds of stuff. He had a box of things that were laying around the house.”
“Are you sure?” Kate leaned forward.
“Yup.”
AS SOON AS JAKE FELL ASLEEP, Kate called Lincoln Finch. He answered on the fourth ring.
“Do you have the list of evidence found at the storage facility?” she said.
“It’s here somewhere,” he said. She could hear him rummaging through paperwork. Finally his deep voice came back on the line. “It’s a long list. Do you want me to read it to you over the phone?”
“Can you fax it to the hospital?”
“Sure. I think I have the number here somewhere. Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Jake told me that Agent Norris came by the house after they’d confiscated Tim’s computer and office equipment. He told Jake not to tell anyone.”
There was silence on the line. “So what did he do while he was there?”
“Apparently, he found some more evidence,” Kate said.
“That’s not so unusual.”
“Telling a little boy not to tell his mother?”
“I meant coming back for additional evidence. So what do you think it was that he took?”
“I’m hoping the list will help me figure that out.”
The document was there within a half hour of her call. Kate gave a quick glance at Jake, who had fallen back asleep, as she took it from the attendant who brought it to Jake’s room.
She studied the pages, looking for anything significant. Anything to prove that the print shop at the storage facility had been a setup. Then she saw it. And what she saw surprised her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kate called the lawyer back immediately.
“They’re sure it was this brand and model?” Lincoln Finch asked.
“I lost a camera that night, after Tim was arrested. It was the same model and brand.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s the same one.”
But Kate knew it was the same. There was no other explanation. The lawyer shuffled through his copy of the paperwork. “I don’t think they’ve examined that piece of evidence yet. At least I haven’t gotten any of the findings.”
“Is there any way I can look at the camera, see if it has my photos on it?”
“Doubtful. It’s already at the lab.”
“Whoever took it from the Lourdes’ set Tim up,” Kate said. “Don’t you see? They didn’t know it wasn’t Tim’s when they planted it at the storage facility. I had never been to their home before that night.”
“You’re saying Agent Norris set him up?”
“I’m saying that whoever took it set him up. If it was Agent Norris, then yes. And there’s something else.” She paused, then said, “Agent Norris was wearing loafers without socks the other day.”
“So?”
“Abby Pippins saw a stranger at the church the Sunday of the offering.”
“Let me guess,” the lawyer said. “He wore loafers without socks.” There was a long silence on the line before the attorney said, “I’ll see about getting that camera examined right away.”
KATE CALLED LIVVY shortly after talking with the lawyer.
“Amy’s not back yet,” Kate informed her. She moved into the hallway so Jake wouldn’t be awakened and told Livvy about the new evidence.
“You think Agent Norris is involved?”
“Somehow, though I don’t have it all worked out yet. When the evidence comes back on the camera, we’ll have something concrete.”
“And the Harpers?” Livvy asked.
Audrey had done so much for Amy and Tim, and yet what if that had merely been a ruse? A way to make her look innocent or to assuage her guilt?
The image of Hal talking to Agent Norris at the VFW in Pine Ridge stuck with her. There had never been any mention of counterfeit bills showing up at the studio. So what had the two talked about? Kate already had her suspicions.
THE COUNTRYSIDE PASSED in a blur, blue-ridged mountains occasionally coming into view beyond the towering trees that lined the road. Amy had returned to Jake’s room at noon, claiming that sleep was an impossibility, so she might as well stay at her son’s side.
Kate couldn’t blame her. She would have done the same given the circumstances. So she left around two o’clock for Copper Mill.
It had been all she could do not to blurt out the new discoveries to Amy. But Kate knew the young mother had enough on her plate without the added stress. Once Kate had unraveled the whole web of clues and freed Tim, then she could explain everything.
When she came to the turnoff for the Harpers’ estate, Kate took it.
The Porsche was parked in front of the three-car garage as it usually was, but the Town Car was nowhere to be seen.
Kate took note of the expensive car parked outside. It seemed odd considering that they had a perfectly good three-car garage. True, there were a lot of people with cluttered garages, but Hal and Audrey’s house was immaculate.
Kate pulled the Honda around the back side of the structure, where it wouldn’t be visible to anyone just pulling up. There was a
service road on that side of the house, a set of tracks through the woods, but it would make for a good exit route should Kate need it. Kate pulled the car onto the path, a good twenty yards into the trees, before killing the engine and unbuckling her seat belt.
“Let’s have a look around,” she whispered to herself.
She was careful to shut the car door without a sound, save for a click that said the latch was secured. Then she moved stealthily toward the home. All was quiet. The only sound was that of the breeze in the trees and the flagpole line in front flapping against metal. Kate could hear the distant sound of trucks on the highway below.
She moved to the back of the garage when the sound of a car door slamming met her ears.
Quickly she looked through the back window into the garage. She could see just enough to get a better view. There was some sort of machinery against the far wall. She could see the lower section of it though the rest was covered by a white sheet.
Voices floated toward her from the front of the house. She quickly scanned the room. She could see a sink in the corner and two large bottles marked “bleach” in bold lettering, as well as quart-sized cans that looked like paint.
She knew she had to get out of there.
She ran toward the woods, her heart pounding in her chest as much from the adrenaline rush as from the physical exertion. She heard her knees crack as she ran, a painful reminder of the osteoarthritis she suffered. But escape was a must—pain or no pain.
The edge of the woods was lined with thick lilac bushes. So Kate ducked behind them, casting glances toward the house as she made her way to the car. No one seemed to have heard her. At least no one followed her outside.
She’d seen the bleach bottles and the machine that could easily have been a printing press. Kate started the car, thankful that it had a quiet motor.
It was all starting to add up. The Texas accent. The rag paper, the constant flow of money.
Kate dialed Livvy to tell her what had happened.
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd,” Kate said after she’d told her about the machine in the garage along with the jugs of bleach and ink, “that they chose Copper Mill as the town to move to even though they had no ties here? They know no one in town...”
