by Marta Perry
He jerked a nod toward the computer. “Those directions. You’re not planning on going to the funeral, are you?”
“I am.” She planted her hands on the arms of her chair, shoving it back as she stood. “I am going to my sister’s funeral tomorrow.”
“Jade…” He shook his head. It was the first time he’d called her by her first name, and it startled her. “You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can. And I’m going to.”
He glared, and she had the sense that he was counting to ten. “Stop and think about this. Ruby knew people in that town…people who had no idea she had a twin sister. If you walk in there cold, they’re going to think she’s come back from the dead.”
Her heart winced at the words. She hadn’t thought about that, and the idea added an extra layer of hurt. “I’m sorry about that, but it doesn’t change my mind. Whether it makes people talk or not, I’m going to my sister’s funeral.”
“Have you forgotten that the shooters were after you, too?” His anger rushed toward her in waves. “It would be better to stay as far away as possible from your connection to Ruby. I’m sure my boss would say the same.”
“Those men are out of commission now.” She had to steady herself, because remembering was like revisiting a nightmare. “And they already knew about my connection to Ruby.”
He frowned, those level brows drawn down over his dark eyes. “Even so, we ought to play it safe. We don’t know why those two were after you. Or even why they were after Ruby.”
“What do you know?” And what, if anything, are you willing to tell me? “Surely by this time you must have found out something.”
A curtain seemed to draw across his eyes. “I can’t discuss that with you.”
“No, of course not.” Anger lent strength to her words.
“You don’t want me to know a thing. You don’t even want me to say goodbye to my sister.” Her heart twisted.
“Well, I’m going to Ruby’s funeral, and the only way you can stop me is to arrest me.”
His silence, lasted for the space of a long breath. And then…
“If that’s how you want it.”
“You…” Surely he wasn’t really going to arrest her.
“If you’re that determined to go, you’ll go. But I’m going with you.”
“I don’t want you.”
“I don’t doubt that.” His words held a determination that told her arguing would do her no good at all. “But that’s the offer. Either I go with you tomorrow, or I really will detain you.”
She was astounded at the strength of her desire to throw something at him. She didn’t do things like that. Ruby was the one who gave in to impulse, not her. And if she did, he’d probably arrest her for assaulting a federal officer. Then she’d never get to the funeral.
“All right.” She bit off the words. “Have it your way.”
“I intend to,” he said, and it was as much a threat as a promise.
The sun rose slowly, almost reluctantly, bathing miles of snowy emptiness with a cold, clear light. Jade glanced across the front seats of the truck at Micah. He’d picked her up in the predawn darkness, and they’d driven for miles without a word between them.
Her first impression of his vehicle had been right on target. The truck was an older model, but spotless inside. Micah had shed his parka, revealing a woolly V-neck layered over a dress shirt and tie. The chocolate-brown of the sweater echoed the color of his eyes. He drove quickly and competently, managing the occasional patch of black ice or drifted snow without incident. A twinge of guilt pricked her into breaking the silence.
“You must have had to get up in the middle of the night.”
He shrugged. “No big deal.” He shot her a cautious look, as if wondering whether it was safe to talk after the way she’d responded to him yesterday. “I’m sorry for forcing my presence on you. I do know you’d rather be alone, but it might not be safe.”
“Do you honestly think someone is after me?” Even now, she found the events of the past few days incredible, still felt half convinced that she’d wake and discover it all a bizarre nightmare.
“Probably not, but it’s better to take precautions.”
She didn’t know whether to be reassured by that or not. But he was wrong about one thing. “I know I didn’t want you to come. But I’m glad I’m not alone today.”
“There’s not much anyone else can do when you’re burying a loved one, but it’s still better to have people around. When…” He let that trail off.
She twisted in the seat to see him better. “When what?”
He hesitated for a moment. “I was going to say that when my father died, I don’t know how I’d have coped without my mother and brother.”
She’d never known a father, but someone like Micah had probably had the sort of childhood she could only imagine. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen. My dad was a cop, killed in the line of duty.”
“I’m sorry.” That explained something about him. He was following in his father’s footsteps, in a way. She’d always been determined not to follow in her mother’s.
He nodded, as if in acceptance of her sympathy. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you more about your sister. There really is a good reason for all the security. No one would testify against organized crime if they didn’t think they’d be protected. And even then, it takes courage to do what your sister did.”
Her throat knotted, and she had to clear it before she could speak. “I know. I was proud of her. Ruby was always the brave one when it came to dealing with things.”
Things like their mother in a drunken rage, or a landlord determined to evict them, or one of Mom’s boyfriends trying to take money from her purse when she was passed out.
“What did you do when things got rough?”
“Hid, when I was small. When we were a little older, I’d get out of the apartment. I’d try to find someplace safe. That’s how I first discovered the library. A whole building filled with books to escape into, and no one trying to chase me away.”
A half-smile touched her lips at the memory of that first time, and Ms. Henderson showing her how to apply for a library card and introducing her to the wonders available just for the asking.
She’d never taken a book home, of course. That would have been asking to have it ruined or sold. Ms. Henderson had seemed to know that without a word being spoken. Could someone like Micah possibly understand? If he did, that was almost worse than the alternative.
“Sorry.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re not interested in my past.”
“Yes. I am.” He reached for a pair of sunglasses tucked into the visor as the sunlight strengthened, sending up a white glare from the snow. “Ruby talked a little about her life, the times I saw her. There’s no reason not to tell you that she seemed…well, content, I guess, with the way things turned out. She worked in a little café, made some friends, was active in her church.”
“Church? Ruby?” She’d thought she was beyond surprises where her sister was concerned, but that did startle her.
He sent her a sidelong, questioning glance. “Ruby came to faith after she entered the program. I sensed that everything she’d been through had made her realize the importance of having Christ in her life.”
Tears stung her eyes, and Jade blinked them away.
“Once hearing that would have meant the world to me.”
“Once?” The dark glasses masked his expression, but his voice probed for an answer.
She felt a little flare of anger. Was he judging her?
“Based on the way you talked about Ruby’s faith, you seem to be a believer, but I don’t understand how you can think God is in control with all the things you must see in your job.”
Like Ruby’s lifeless body, in her own garage.
“Those are the things that make me understand how much I need to listen for God’s guidance.”
“And when God is silent?” Grief
put an edge on the words like a whetstone on a knife. “When He seems too far away to hear you cry?”
He took the glasses off so that she could see his eyes. They were dark with concern. One might almost imagine that he cared, but that was impossible. She was just a job to him.
“There have been times when I’ve thought God was pretty distant. I always seem to find that I’m the one who has moved, not God.”
Unshed tears had a stranglehold on her throat. She had to struggle to force the words out, astounded that she was having this conversation with Micah, of all people.
“I wish I could believe that. I really do.”
FOUR
Every one of Micah’s senses was on high alert as he drew up to the small church where the services were to be held. He hadn’t said too much to Jade, both because he hadn’t wanted to alarm her and because it wouldn’t be professional to do so. But he was concerned about her safety. There was too much they didn’t know about this situation. They hadn’t seen the end of this yet. The two shooters might be out of action, but they certainly hadn’t been acting on their own. Someone else was behind Ruby’s murder and the attack on Jade…someone who pulled the strings and paid the money.
Jade leaned forward, hand on the dash, surveying the white clapboard building with its simple steeple as if she were looking for something. Maybe she was. Those few words they’d exchanged about faith had been revealing. Be near her, Father. If You want to use me in some way to restore her faith in You, help me to be open to that.
“The parking lot is nearly full.” She darted a questioning glance at him. “Curiosity seekers?”
“When we shut down publicity, we do it. No one knows that this is anything more than an unfortunate death.” He pulled into one of the remaining spaces.
“Ruby was active in this church. She’d found a place here. It’s natural that they’d mourn her passing.”
She nodded, her lips pressed together. Trying to suppress emotion? He wasn’t sure. He climbed out and shrugged into his jacket, rounding the truck to join her. Together they walked across the cleared lot toward the red double doors of the sanctuary. The church Ruby had attended sat a little distance from the rest of the town, giving him a clear view of the surroundings. He didn’t see a hint of danger, unless someone was hiding behind one of the gravestones in the church’s adjoining cemetery or among the mourners. Not likely since they probably all knew each other. A navy blue canopy had been erected among the weathered stones, with a few folding chairs underneath it, facing the dark rectangle that was the grave. His gut tightened. Jade sucked in a breath, and he put a supporting hand under her elbow. Maybe he should have tried harder to dissuade her from coming, but he could understand her need to be here. She had to say goodbye. He pushed back a wave of sympathy. He couldn’t let himself react emotionally. He had to stay alert for even the slightest thing out of place. Hurrying her up the single step to the doors, he pulled the right-hand one open and ushered her inside.
The organ played softly. The black-robed minister was in the act of stepping next to the bier when the door closed behind them with a bit more noise than he’d expected. Heads swiveled toward them, and the gasps from the congregants was loud enough to be heard over the organ music. Then even that stopped as the organist looked their way.
He tightened his grip on Jade’s arm. This was exactly the reaction he’d hoped to avoid.
“Ruby?” Someone said the name on a rising note. The pastor touched the white covering of the coffin, as if for reassurance. Then he strode quickly down the aisle toward them, holding out his hand.
“You must be Ruby’s sister,” he said, smoothly enough that Micah wondered whether he had known about Jade.
“I’m Harry Davison, Ruby’s pastor. I’m so sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances.”
A rustle went through the congregation, but Micah sensed relief in it. So Ruby had a sister. Funny they hadn’t known about that. That’s what they’d be thinking, no doubt.
“I’m Jade Summers. I’m sorry if we’re late.” Her soft voice probably carried to the eagerly attentive people seated nearby.
Micah winced. He should have warned her not to announce her identity.
“Not at all, not at all.” Pastor Davison was small, slight and balding, but he had a deep, resonant voice that must hold his congregation’s rapt attention. “I’m sure you had a long trip.” He turned to Micah, holding out his hand with an inquiring look.
“Micah McGraw.” No reason to tell the pastor anything else about himself. He shook hands, wanting the amenities over with. He couldn’t really relax until he’d gotten Jade safely home, but he’d feel a bit easier when she wasn’t standing here like a target.
“Come and sit down front.” The pastor waved them down the aisle.
Micah attempted to guide Jade to a seat near the door, but she was already hurrying down the aisle in the pastor’s wake. He had no choice but to follow her. Finally they were settled, unfortunately in the very front pew. How was he supposed to keep an eye on the crowd from here? He leaned close to Jade, earning a startled look from her.
Too bad. She made less of a target with his arm draped across the pew behind her and his shoulder pressing hers.
The organist played again. The service began. The familiar promises from scripture echoed in his heart and threatened to distract him.
Forgive me, Father. I can’t give myself up to worship when Jade’s life is in my hands. I failed Ruby. I can’t fail Jade.
Jade’s fingers twisted together in her lap, and she didn’t look at the draped coffin. Otherwise, she seemed composed. He wondered again what was in her heart, weighing that composure against her obvious need to attend the funeral. At a guess, anyone who really wanted to understand Jade Summers would have his work cut out for him. Pastor Davison spoke briefly but meaningfully, reminding the congregants that they grieved someone who had come to them a stranger and become a valued friend and sister in Christ. He led them in a familiar hymn setting of the twenty-third Psalm to the accompaniment of the small organ.
E’en though I walk through death’s dark vale, my heart shall fear no ill, and in God’s house forevermore, my dwelling place shall be.
Despite Micah’s watchfulness, he felt the peace of the promises fill his heart. He prayed that Jade took comfort from the words and from knowing that Ruby’s troubled life had ended among people who loved her. The final benediction was spoken. As they stood to follow the coffin from the sanctuary he kept a firm grasp on Jade’s arm. This was a danger point, as people crowded in on them, expressing their condolences in the formal words people used to cover a wealth of emotion.
Jade managed to respond to each person who spoke to her, holding on to her composure. He wasn’t sure how much that cost her.
As for him, he was too busy scanning the crowd, not knowing if these people were all the innocent bystanders they seemed. Could someone here have alerted the killers to Ruby’s presence among them?
They moved through the door, fastening coats against the chilly air, donning sunglasses to fend off the glare of sun on snow. The pallbearers eased the coffin down the single step.
A middle-aged woman pushed through the crowd to clutch Jade’s sleeve. “My dear, I’m so sorry for you. Ruby was such a sweetheart—always remembered how I liked my coffee, every time I went in the café. And always had a cheerful word and a smile. We’ll miss her terribly.”
“Thank you.” Jade’s voice reflected strain. “That’s kind of you.”
“Imagine her having a twin sister.” The woman obviously wasn’t the type to express her condolences and move on. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when you walked in. Just as alike as can be, you are. Not like that cousin of Ruby’s—well, I guess of yours, too. He didn’t look anything like you.”
“Cousin?” Jade’s voice trembled. “What…what do you mean?”
Micah drew her close to his side, his arm protectively around her. For the first time since t
hey’d arrived, Jade seemed on the verge of losing her composure, and he knew why.
She and Ruby didn’t have any cousins.
“It will be safer if we leave now.” Micah knew frustration rasped his lowered voice as he stood next to Jade, watching the pallbearers maneuver the coffin along a shoveled path into the cemetery.
He’d drawn her apart from the other mourners. They probably thought he was comforting her, not arguing with her.
For a moment she wavered, her green eyes lost and confused. “I don’t understand. What did that woman mean? We don’t have any cousins.” Her mouth twisted a little. “At least, not that I know about.”
“Let’s just get in the car.” He tried to nudge her in that direction. “We can talk about it once we’re away from here.”
Jade didn’t acknowledge his words. “You talked to her. What did she say?”
He let out a sigh of frustration. Short of picking Jade up and carrying her to the vehicle, he didn’t have many choices. He had managed to stow Jade safely with the pastor for a few minutes so he could talk to Mrs. Calloway, the woman who’d mentioned this supposed cousin. He had her name and address for follow-up saying Jade wanted to stay in touch, but he doubted it was going to get them very far.
“She said that a man came into the café yesterday, asking about Ruby, saying he was a cousin. Mrs. Calloway told him that Ruby had died and gave him the information about the service. I guess she was surprised that he wasn’t here today.”
“It doesn’t make sense. If he was involved with the men who killed Ruby, he’d know that she was dead. Why would he come looking for her?”
She was thinking again, the shock fading from her face.
“I don’t know.” There was way too much they didn’t know about this case, and he couldn’t investigate and protect Jade at the same time. “I promise you, we’re going to look into it. Now, let’s just leave.”
“No.” Her jaw set. “I’m not running away.” She nodded toward the cemetery. “They’re almost ready. We’d better go.”
“Jade—”
She jerked her arm free of his restraining hand. “I’m going. Do what you want.”
