Vindicated (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 6)

by Becky Durfee

  Jenny’s phone rang, mercifully, and she excused herself to take the call. Just as she had hoped, it was Kyle Buchanan.

  “Hello,” she said with optimism. “Were you able to find anything?”

  “I was. I have the Minnick’s contact information for you. They live about an hour from Evansdale.”

  “That sounds great.” She glanced at Zack and Ellen, adding, “I wouldn’t mind taking a little road trip right about now.”

  Jenny rang the doorbell of the Minnick’s modest house. Nate’s father had seemed pleasant over the phone, but Jenny was still nervous about the meeting. She was never quite sure what to expect when she showed up at people’s houses.

  The door opened to reveal a friendly-looking, white-haired man with a beard. He bore a slight resemblance to Santa Claus; Jenny took comfort in the likeness. “Mr. Minnick? I’m Jenny Watkins, we spoke on the phone.”

  She was Jenny Larrabee. One of these days she’d remember that.

  “Yes, hello Jenny. Please, come in. And call me Alex.”

  She stepped through the threshold into the living room, where she introduced herself to Nate’s mother, Kim, who also appeared friendly but clearly struggled to get around, most likely due to age. Her steps were small and required obvious effort.

  Once the trio was situated in the living room and formalities exchanged, Jenny explained the purpose of her visit. With a sigh she began, “As I explained on the phone, I was born with psychic ability—I receive my contacts from the deceased in the form of visions and pulls.”

  “Pulls?” Alex asked without cynicism in his tone. He had seemed to overcome some of his original skepticism during their phone conversation.

  Jenny nodded. “I get led to places of significance. Recently, while I was driving from Tennessee to Georgia, I was led to a house at the end of Beverly Court.”

  The couple exchanged glances.

  “I was invited in to the house by the current owner. There I saw a distinct image of what happened that fateful day back in 1988.” Jenny leaned forward onto her elbows. “I am quite sure your son didn’t murder Stella Jorgenson.”

  “I know that,” Kim said softly. “I never doubted that for a minute.”

  Jenny looked at this woman, who had endured both her son’s wrongful imprisonment and his early death, and her heart positively ached. “Well, I’m going to try to prove that. Officially.”

  Alex chimed in. “You do know he passed away years ago, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Jenny said with a nod, “but I also know his soul would be able to rest better if he could be exonerated. I think even now that’s important to him.”

  Kim looked down at her lap.

  “Not only that,” Jenny added, trying to remain unemotional, “true justice hasn’t been served for Stella yet. I’d like to figure out who did this so he can be properly punished. So far, your son has been the only one to pay any kind of price for her murder.”

  A long moment of silence ensued. Eventually, Alex said, “Well, I do appreciate your efforts.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny replied. She clasped her fingers together and added, “I was wondering if I could count on you to help me in my investigation. Would you be willing to answer some questions about Nate and about that day?”

  “Sure,” Kim said, “we’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Jenny sat on the couch next to Kim, who had brought out old photo albums. “Here’s little Nate as a baby.”

  Jenny was getting more than she’d bargained for. However, when she considered everything this family had been through, she resolved to look at every last photo and listen to every last story. It was the least she could do for these people who had been dealt so much injustice.

  She glanced down at the picture being presented to her, noting the stitches that ran vertically up baby Nate’s upper lip. “He was born with a cleft lip and palate,” Kim explained, “but he was a fighter, and he got through those surgeries like a champ.”

  Jenny focused on the baby’s eyes, which would go on to eventually witness horrors that no one should ever be forced to see. With a smile plastered on her face, she said, “He certainly was a little cutie.”

  “Yes, he was,” Kim said with affectionate reflection. “His brother looked just like him…aside from the cleft, of course.” She put her hand on Jenny’s arm and added, “I’ve often said if it wasn’t for that little scar, I wouldn’t ever know whose baby pictures I was looking at.”

  “Was his brother older or younger?” Jenny asked.

  “Younger. Nate was the oldest of my three boys.”

  She flipped some more pages in the photo album, eventually reaching images of an older baby in the hospital with an IV in his arm. “Oh,” Kim said as if she’d previously forgotten. “This was one of his many trips to the hospital. He was forever fighting infections. He practically lived with a fever.” She touched her hand to her chin as she recalled, “But even still, he was always such a happy child. I think he didn’t know any different. A little one who is constantly sick doesn’t know what it’s like to feel well.”

  Jenny placed her hand on her belly; this was a painful exercise to say the least. However, out of respect, she continued to listen.

  Eventually, pictures of a school-aged boy graced the pages. One photo featured him holding an award and wearing a smile as wide as the moon. Jenny pointed to the image. “What was that award for?”

  “Citizenship,” Kim explained. “School was never his thing, grade-wise. No matter how hard he worked, he always came home with below-average marks.” She called to her husband. “What did they say his IQ was? Was it seventy-four?”

  “Seventy-two,” Alex stated flatly.

  Seventy-two. Jenny recalled that in the school where she used to teach, children qualified for services if their IQ was seventy or below. The kids with IQs slightly above that always managed to slip through the cracks. Those were the cases that always broke Jenny’s heart, and this was certainly proving to be no exception.

  Kim continued with her story. “But he was a kind child. The teachers always raved about how nice and polite he was, even if he struggled to pay attention to the studies. One of them said Nate would have been willing to buy sand in the desert if he thought saying no would have hurt your feelings.” She glanced at the picture and smiled. “But, boy, was he ever delighted to get this award. Do you remember that day, Alex? He was in, what, third grade?”

  “Yup. Third grade.”

  Kim turned to Jenny. “His teacher had called us and told us he was getting an award and we should come to the school for the assembly. It was a surprise, though, so we sat in the back of the auditorium. Fortunately, he didn’t notice us there. When they called his name, he practically sprinted to the stage. Do you remember that, Alex?”

  “Yup. I remember.”

  “Oh, what a day that was.”

  Jenny noticed how much love and happiness exuded from Kim’s face. It was almost too much to bear.

  At that moment a wave washed over Jenny. Kim continued to talk, but her words became distant, replaced instead by the voices in Jenny’s own mind.

  She saw a much younger version of Kim sitting across from her on the other side of a glass partition, holding a black phone to her ear. Jenny heard a male voice resonate from within her. “They had pork chops for dinner last night.”

  Kim smiled lovingly. “You always did love your pork chops.”

  “With mashed potatoes, too.”

  “Ah, yes,” Kim replied. “It isn’t the same without those mashed potatoes.”

  A short silence ensued, after which Kim added, “Well, baby, my time here is almost up.”

  Jenny placed her masculine hand flat against the glass, and Kim did the same on her side. “You know I didn’t do it, right mama?”

  “I know, baby. You don’t have it in you.”

  “’Cause I can be okay in here if you know I didn’t do it.”

  A mixture of pain, love and sadness graced Kim�
��s face. “I know you didn’t do it.”

  “Dad, too?”

  “Your dad, too.”

  Kim’s present voice took over as the image dissolved in Jenny’s mind. “I’m sorry,” Jenny said as she interrupted, “but I just got a message from Nate.”

  Kim immediately stopped talking and looked at Jenny. “You did?”

  “Well, maybe message isn’t the right word—but I did just get a vision.” She smiled and looked at Kim. “I understand Nate liked pork chops and mashed potatoes.”

  While her face remained expressionless, Kim began to laugh. “Really? That’s it? That’s the message?” She turned to her husband. “Did you hear that, Alex? Nate communicates from beyond the grave and he talks about pork chops and mashed potatoes.”

  Alex let out a hearty chuckle. “That sounds about right. That boy always did like his food.”

  “It sounds like he’d get along quite well with my husband,” Jenny said with a smile. “But Nate did clue me in on one other thing…” Her voice became much more serious. “He let me know that he was okay with being in jail, as long as you two knew he was innocent.”

  Kim sat back in the couch and placed her hands on her lap. The joy left her face as she let out a long breath. “That’s what he always said,” she admitted. “Our approval was all he ever needed. He said that every time we were about to leave the prison.”

  Jenny placed her hand on top of Kim’s. “Well, I’d like to prove his innocence to the world.” Eager to get down to business, Jenny repositioned herself so she could look directly at Kim. “I’d like to talk about what happened that day, if you’re willing.”

  Kim slowly closed the photo album. With a serious expression, she whispered, “I’m willing.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know to be true about that day, and I’ll see if it matches up with what I’ve seen.”

  Kim looked up at Alex for a moment of support; then, she turned her gaze toward Jenny. “Nate was outside, doing yard work. He was pulling weeds from the flower bed out front. That’s when he said he heard some screams coming from next door. He went over to check it out, and he said the front door was open…the wood door, anyway. The screen door was closed.

  “He said he called in from the front stoop, saying ‘Miss Stella? Miss Megan? Are you two alright?’” Kim looked down at her lap. “Remember what I said about Nate being polite? He would have never gone into the house without being invited in…even if there were screams.”

  Jenny wondered if Nate had been a little less concerned with manners—or even just a tiny bit smarter—if he could have caught a glimpse of the person who really did this.

  Kim continued, “He said he heard a yell for help, so at that point he opened the door and went inside. He said he saw Stella lying there, bleeding. He went over to help her and got bloody in the process. He even picked up the knife because he was curious about it. He brought that knife home with him when he came back to call 9-1-1.”

  “So, that’s why he ran back home? To call the police?” Jenny asked.

  “That was his intent, but he never made the call,” Kim confessed.

  “He didn’t? Why not?”

  Kim let out a sigh that indicated she wished she had the ability to rewrite history. “You’re probably too young to remember this, but back in the eighties, there were no cell phones. There were only home phones. We had three teenagers in the house, so we had phones in just about every room. It was only one phone line, mind you, but we had five or six phones. The problem with that is if one of the phones doesn’t get hung up properly, you can’t make an outgoing call. It’s like all of the phones are off the hook. So, Nate tried to call the police, but he wasn’t able to. He couldn’t figure out which phone was the problem.”

  Jenny squinted and rubbed her temples. “If he had been able to make the call, things may have been different for him.”

  Kim seemed solemn. “I believe they would have been. Not only that, but the man across the street saw Nate running from the house with blood-stained clothes and the knife in his hand. Couple that with the fact that he never called the police—and that he had scratches all over his arms from the weeding—and that he confessed for some outlandish reason…Even I have to admit that boy looked guilty as sin.”

  Jenny had to agree. Had she not had divine insight, she would have probably believed in his guilt as well.

  “Well, this has been some very helpful information,” Jenny said. “It matches up with all of the visions I have had. Hopefully, I’ll be able to convince the authorities that this is what really happened, and Nate’s name will be cleared.”

  “That would be nice,” Kim said. She then looked at her lap and added, “Although, I’m not sure how much good that would do.”

  Jenny smiled. “It would do a lot of good…for his soul, anyway.”

  Kim managed half a smile.

  “But Mr. and Mrs. Minnick, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, honey,” Kim replied. “What is it?”

  “Do you know of anyone who might have done this? Someone who may have had something against Stella?”

  Both of Nate’s parents shook their heads. “We barely knew her,” Alex said. “She could have had all the enemies in the world and we wouldn’t have known anything about it.”

  Feeling as though the couple had been through enough for one day, Jenny staged her exit, promising to be in touch if she came up with any answers. The Minnicks vowed to do the same.

  As soon as Jenny got in her car, she dialed Kyle. After explaining what she had learned from Nate’s parents, she asked if he had been able to uncover any new details in the case.

  “Well, I’ve determined that there was never a real investigation of the crime,” he began. “Nate Minnick was the only suspect ever named. Because of that, we’re looking at ground zero in terms of investigation. I’ve put in a call to Megan Patterson, formerly Megan Casey, who used to be Stella’s roommate. I imagine if Stella had an enemy running around out there, Megan would be the most likely person to know about it.”

  “You’re probably right,” Jenny agreed. After a moment of thought she added, “You do realize I’m going to be of minimal help to you. Ordinarily, I can gain insight from the victim, leading me in the direction of who did it, but in this case Nate doesn’t know who the perpetrator was. He’s just letting me know it wasn’t him.”

  “Stella won’t be able to tell you?”

  Jenny remained quiet for a little while; Kyle had touched on a very important point. Why hadn’t Stella herself contacted Jenny? If she had been taken so brutally, why didn’t she want her story told? Had she crossed, despite the nature of her demise?

  “I can’t say for sure, but I think the answer to that question is no.” She contemplated one more minute before adding. “Although, I really would like to know why that’s the case.”

  Chapter 6

  “That was painful,” Jenny said as she slid under the covers, referring to the evening with Zack and Andy. “Watching you two go at it is like watching two kids bicker at recess.”

  “See? This is why I didn’t bring you around him before this. I didn’t want you to be exposed to it.”

  “Is it that you didn’t want me to be exposed to it, or you didn’t want me to see it until after we were married and I was committed?”

  “Why?” he said with a laugh. “Would you have backed out of the wedding if you saw it ahead of time?”

  “I would have had more thinking to do, that’s for sure.” Jenny cuddled up next to him and added, “Seriously, you two need to cut each other some slack.”

  “Well, you saw him. No matter what you say to him, he turns it into something negative. It’s impossible to have a decent conversation with the man.”

  Jenny leaned up on one elbow. “Okay, I’m going play devil’s advocate for a minute here.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Don’t be scared,” she said. “I just want you to think about this from your father’s point of v
iew. I mean, I know last night he was harping on you about not being responsible enough—or financially ready—to have a baby. But you have to consider what sparked the argument that has kept you from speaking for the last few months—you stopped showing up at your job. With his company. You didn’t call; you didn’t officially quit. He had to call you to find out where you had been, and that’s when you told him you weren’t going to be working for him anymore. To be fair, I think anyone would be mad about that.” She winced as she added, “And it does kind of make you look irresponsible.”

  “Yeah, but the only reason I did that was because he was an asshole of a boss.”

  “I understand.” Jenny gently brushed a stray hair off of Zack’s forehead. “But he doesn’t see it that way.”

  Zack didn’t respond.

  “And,” she remarked as she tapped him on the chest, “it appears to me that you purposely avoid mentioning things that would make him proud of you.” She reduced her tone to reflect her compassion. “Why didn’t you tell him about your plan to renovate Rob’s house?”

  “Because he’d want to help me.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “You’ve seen the two of us together. Yes, it’s bad.”

  “It might be a nice olive branch.”

  “Maybe.” Zack shrugged with one shoulder. “But somehow I doubt it.”

  Jenny could see she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this conversation, so she switched gears. “Well, I have a little research project I’d like to embark on.” She rolled over off of Zack’s shoulder and reached for her laptop on her end table.

  “What’s that?”

  “Well,” she said as opened the computer and propped up against the headboard. “I’m just a little bit too troubled by the conversation I had with the Minnicks today. I found out that Nate was born with a cleft lip and palate, he battled chronic illness as a child, he had a very low IQ and a congenital heart defect—and that’s just not sitting right with me.”

  “Do you think they were making it all up?”