The Sibling

by Diane Moody

  “Oh?”

  “To my job,” she added softly.

  “There it is again. That pesky job.”

  Over coffee and a shared serving of tiramisu, they chatted easily as soft jazz played in the background.

  “Have you always wanted to be a preacher?” she asked.

  “Maybe. That’s hard to say. I always loved going to church when I was a kid. We went to a large downtown church with lots of programs going on. Sports, summer camp, mission trips, you name it. Tristan wanted nothing to do with any of it, of course, but I loved all of it. Then, when I was in high school, the church hired a new youth pastor. Bryan was great. One of those energetic guys who knew every kid by name—and we’re talking about hundreds of kids at this point. He was all about making church a place where kids our age wanted to hang out and bring their friends, so we had a lot of fun.

  “But Bryan always made it clear that teaching us to have a solid relationship with the Lord was more important than just having a good time. He believed strongly in mentoring, so he put together a great team of adults who worked with us, then taught us to mentor the younger kids coming up behind us. I think that’s when I knew I wanted to be in ministry in some capacity.”

  “It sounds like a wonderful church. You were fortunate to have a youth pastor like that.”

  “I was. Bryan had a huge influence on my life.” Peyton traced his finger along the rim of his coffee cup. “Unfortunately, during the fall of my senior year, the pastor called Bryan into his office one day and fired him. And I did not handle it well. No one could give us a valid reason for why he was let go, which made it even worse. Then, surprise, surprise—a month later, a new youth minister was hired—the new son-in-law of the pastor. And yes, this may sound harsh, but he was terrible. Arrogant, aloof, unorganized, totally inept as a pastor in every way. It was just a paycheck to him and that’s all. I’m sure I could have handled it better, but as a teenager, I was ticked. So I stopped going, and a lot of the other kids did too. And it really did a number on my faith.”

  “And no wonder. That’s so pitiful.”

  “Yes, it was. But then one day I ran into Bryan before he left town. We grabbed some burgers and had a really long talk. He was so gracious about the whole thing, which was totally his personality. And he reminded me that my faith wasn’t based on him, or the church, or anything apart from the saving grace of Christ. Quite a wake-up call, I have to say. And exactly what I needed.

  “Long story short, he encouraged me to go to Belmont University here in Nashville, and suggested I get involved in the Campus Crusade program there. Which I did, and it made all the difference. I met kids from all over the country who were totally sold out to God. That’s when I knew God was calling me into the ministry. Got my undergraduate degree in theology, then a masters at seminary, and landed a position as an associate pastor at a growing church in Franklin, just south of here. Worked there a couple of years and was reminded just how much I hate church politics. About that time, I heard Braxton’s pastor was retiring, and the rest is history.”

  “And it’s better? Pastoring a small church?”

  “Absolutely. Well, apart from a body floating in the baptistry—”

  His eyes blinked wide. “Oh Aubrey, what an awful thing for me to say. I’m so sorry!”

  He gave his face a rough rub then leaned forward. “Seriously, that was so far out of bounds and totally inappropriate. Please forgive me.”

  “I’ll try,” she teased.

  “Good. Thank you.” He blew a sigh. “Let me try that again. The correct answer is yes. I really do prefer a small church.”

  They chatted a few more minutes before Aubrey looked at her watch.

  “You’re worried about your mother,” he said, motioning toward their waiter. “Why don’t you give her a call, and I’ll take care of the check.”

  By the time they were back on the road, Faye still hadn’t answered.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Peyton said. “She probably left her phone in another room and went to bed.”

  “You’re probably right—”

  Peyton’s phone rang, lighting the screen on his dashboard with Sterling’s name. “Would you mind if I took this?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  He answered, the call coming through the car’s speakers.

  “Hello Sterling.”

  “Peyton, we found him! Reggie found Tristan! He’s in Gatlinburg!”

  He glanced at Aubrey, their eyes connecting. “Really? Is he all right?”

  “Hold on just a second. I’m connecting you on my call with Reggie.” A moment passed. “Reggie, are you there?” Sterling asked.

  “Yes, I’m here, and I’m with Tristan. He wants to speak to Peyton.”

  “I’m here! Tristan, is that you?”

  “I’m handing Tristan the phone,” Reggie said.

  Shuffling noises filled the gap. “Yeah, it’s me. Peyton, I didn’t kill that guy! I don’t know what this is all about, but you have to believe me! I didn’t—”

  A sudden flurry of noise from the call filled the car, the speakers blaring with the commotion—doors slamming, more shuffling feet, voices yelling, grunting sounds … and the distinct sound of guns locking into position.

  “FREEZE! DROP THE PHONE! ON THE GROUND! ON THE GROUND!”

  Chapter 19

  “Tristan! What’s happening?” Peyton cried.

  More shouting. More commotion. Then only silence.

  “Reggie? Sterling?” Peyton stared at the screen wishing the call had been on video so he could see what was happening.

  “Peyton, this is Sterling. We lost the connection. Let me try to get Reggie back on the line. I’ll call you back.”

  His heart racing, Peyton realized he was driving on autopilot, his foot heavy on the gas pedal. He shook himself out of it and slowed the car to the speed limit.

  “Aubrey, I’m so sorry you had to hear all that,” he said, chancing a quick glance at her.

  “No, it’s okay. But what do you think happened?”

  “It sounded like some kind of raid or something. But I don’t even know where they are or how Reggie found him.”

  “Listen, are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

  “I think so. But I hate this … this not knowing.”

  “Pull over.”

  “What?”

  “Pull over, Peyton. I’m going to drive. We’ve still got a long way to go. If Sterling calls back and it’s anything like that first call, you don’t want to be behind the wheel on the interstate.”

  He flipped on his turn signal and pulled into a gas station parking lot. As they got out and met halfway around the car, Aubrey gave him a hug.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

  “Aubrey, I’m really sorry about—”

  The phone rang inside the car, so they quickly climbed back inside. As Aubrey pulled on her seatbelt and acclimated herself to the car, Peyton connected the call.

  “I’m here, Sterling. What happened?”

  “The TBI guys showed up and arrested Tristan. Reggie thinks they’re taking him to Chattanooga for the night, but he wasn’t sure on that.”

  “He was in Gatlinburg? That’s where Reggie found him?”

  “Yeah, apparently some guy Tristan met in prison hooked him up with a car when he was released last week. But you’re not going to believe this. Tristan was spotted on camera at the Shell Station here in Braxton on Saturday night. Reggie got the plate number off the car in the station’s security video and tracked it down to a guy named Jack Prevost. He lives in a remote cabin outside of Gatlinburg. Reggie drove over there to talk to him, and lo and behold, there was the car. He said he looked through the window section of the cabin door and spotted someone running out the back, so he took off after him. Once he caught up with Tristan, he told him he worked for your attorney and was able to talk him into going back inside the house. Tristan asked for proof, and that’s when we placed the call to you—hey,
Peyton, I’ve got Reggie on the other line. I’ll call you back.”

  Peyton dropped his head in his hands. “Oh Tristan, what have you done? What have you done?”

  Aubrey kept her eyes on the road as a light rain began to fall. “If they have footage of Tristan at the gas station in Braxton—”

  “—that means he was in town the night of Harley’s murder. Yes.”

  She increased her speed taking the on-ramp of I-40 West and pulled into the heavy flow of traffic. “But that doesn’t mean he did it, Peyton.”

  “I know. But why would he be in Braxton? If he came to see me, he could easily find me. It’s a small town.”

  “Didn’t you tell me he was angry that you pressed charges and sent him to prison?”

  “Yes, and that’s what I’m afraid of. That he did something stupid in some lame attempt to get even with me.”

  She drove in silence, giving him time to think. She glanced over a couple of times, finding him staring out the front windshield. The constant rhythm of the wipers kept a steady beat, as if keeping time with the countless thoughts that surely pulsed through his mind.

  How odd, she thought, to know someone for barely a week and already feel so connected, so tethered to the full range of emotions he was experiencing. Wanting to help. Wanting to ease the burden. And yet, still suspended in that hesitant place, not quite sure how much to give of herself. How much of her heart she was ready to share again.

  When she looked his way again, his eyes were closed and his lips moved silently. Praying.

  It wasn’t until she slowed to a stop in front of her mother’s house that he opened his eyes again.

  “I’m really sorry, Aubrey. This wasn’t much of a first date, was it?”

  “Don’t apologize. I had a really nice time.” She smiled as she opened her door to get out.

  He joined her, resting his arm around her shoulders as they walked up the sidewalk to the house.

  “If there’s anything at all I can do, will you call me?”

  “You already have,” he said as they topped the porch steps. “And thanks for getting us home safe. Obviously, I was in no state to drive.”

  “I kind of figured as much.”

  He took her hands in his. “I have no idea where all this is going, but one thing I do know. Having you by my side … I can’t even explain it, but it already means so much to me. More than you know.”

  Aubrey smiled, then brushed her lips against his stubbled cheek.

  “Promise me a do-over?” he said. “Another time without all the drama?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He kissed her gently on the lips, then headed down the steps. “Goodnight, Aubrey.”

  “Goodnight, Peyton.”

  He drove straight to Sterling’s office, surprised to find Jeff’s cruiser parked out front. His head and his heart warred within him. Since coming to Braxton almost six months ago now, he’d appreciated Jeff’s friendship as he navigated his first weeks as the new pastor in town. To keep him at arm’s length felt completely wrong, no matter the legal circumstances between them. As he bound up the stairs to Sterling’s office, he uttered a prayer for calm and patience.

  Matt Bryson and Jeff stood in the doorway, turning as Peyton reached the landing.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Matt said. “We need to talk.”

  Peyton shook Matt’s outstretched hand. “Yes, we do. Help me understand what happened tonight. How did TBI get involved?”

  “You boys have a seat,” Sterling said, waving toward the chairs in front of his desk.

  “When we found out Tristan was spotted here in Braxton,” Jeff began, “I knew I needed more help than what Cameron and I could handle. That’s when I called Matt.”

  “Though I’ve got to hand it to Cameron,” Matt began. “He’s the one who started checking all the local businesses with security cameras to find out if there was any visible proof of your twin having set foot here in Braxton, apart from Ida Rose’s claims.”

  Jeff continued the play-by-play. “Cameron started with the businesses closest to the interstate and got lucky. There he was—your ‘double’—gassing up at the Shell Station Saturday evening. Cameron captured the image, zoomed in on the plates, and that’s the break that started the ball rolling. I immediately contacted Matt to ask for some help.”

  “I placed the call for a SWAT team there in the Gatlinburg area, and they made the arrest.”

  “As you know,” Sterling added, “Reggie got the same intel and arrived just minutes before the SWAT team.”

  “What had Reggie told him?” Peyton asked. “Tristan sounded adamant that he had nothing to do with Harley’s death.”

  “Reggie told him about the body found in the church baptistry and how you’d been seen coming out of the building around the time of death. He explained how I heard about it as your attorney, and remembered that you had a twin—”

  “I bet that didn’t go over well,” Peyton muttered.

  “No, it didn’t,” Sterling said. “Reggie said Tristan was furious and demanded to speak to you.”

  “And that’s when my guys crashed the party,” Matt added.

  Peyton rubbed his face. “This is all so bizarre. It makes no sense to me.”

  “Peyton, for now, I advise you to leave any further responses for our private conversation,” Sterling warned.

  Peyton nodded as he leaned over, resting his arms on his knees.

  “They’re bringing Tristan back to Braxton,” Sterling added. “Matt, will you give me a call when that happens?”

  “No problem.” He gave a quick nod to Jeff. “I’ll let you both know.”

  “Is there anything else we need to discuss?” Sterling asked.

  Jeff got to his feet. “No, I think we’re done.”

  “If you need to talk, you know where I am,” Matt told Peyton as they both stood. “And just so you know, my sister knows nothing about this, nor do our parents.”

  “Thanks, Matt,” Peyton said.

  “Take care. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks for your help, Matt,” Jeff added, nearing the door.

  “You’re welcome. By the way, your deputy did a great job finding that video footage. Tell him if he ever wants to work for the Bureau, I can pull a few strings.”

  “Not gonna happen, Bryson. He’s off limits, okay?”

  After Jeff and Matt left, Peyton slipped his hands into his pockets. “Sterling, you’ve got to let me talk to Tristan as soon as he gets here. Promise me that.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but remember—he’s in police custody. I’m not exactly first on the list to interrogate him. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Sterling.”

  “Take it easy, pal.”

  Chapter 20

  The following morning, Aubrey offered to take her mother for breakfast at Denton’s on the town square. It had been only four days since they had lunch there following the abbreviated Sunday morning service, but it felt like weeks had passed. In that short time, Aubrey quickly discerned the importance of the diner to the town’s residents.

  “The heartbeat of Braxton,” her mother called it. “We all gather there. It’s got such a charming atmosphere, and we all love Sarah and Gordy. They’re like family to us.”

  Before they took their seats at one of the booths lining the front window, several of the locals said good morning to them, each calling them by name. Aubrey enjoyed observing her mother’s responses to them and the casual conversations that followed.

  “Morning, Faye,” a kind elderly woman said. “I see your lovely daughter is still with you.”

  “Yes, it’s been so nice to have her home.”

  “How’s the weather treating you?” a rather dapper elderly gentleman asked.

  “It should be a wonderful autumn day after last night’s rain,” Faye answered. “Lelan said we’ll have clear skies today.”

  When the gentleman made his way to the co
unter, Aubrey asked, “Who’s Lelan?”

  “Lelan Statom? Why, he’s our trusty weatherman at Channel 5. Such a handsome young man.”

  “Mornin’ Faye,” Sarah Denton said, sliding two empty mugs on their table and filling them all in one motion. “Nice of you and Aubrey to join us today.”

  “I’ll have you know my daughter invited me here to breakfast. An offer I couldn’t pass up.”

  “How much longer will you be staying?” she asked Aubrey.

  Aubrey handed her mother the miniature pitcher of cream. “I’m not quite sure, to be honest.”

  “Well, if I know Faye, she’d love to have you stay permanently, and so would we. Now, what can I get for you two girls this morning?”

  After Sarah took their order, Faye stirred the cream into her coffee. Aubrey found it curious that her mother seemed so normal today, so rational. Not at all confused or forgetful as she’d been the night before. When Aubrey returned from her date with Peyton, she’d found her mother sound asleep in bed; her cell phone resting on the kitchen table with six missed calls, all of them Aubrey’s. So much for keeping her phone close by.

  Yet this morning, here she was, sharp as ever. How could that be?

  “You know, Sarah’s right,” Faye said, pushing her red glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I would love to have you stay. I don’t suppose I could ever convince you to move back here.”

  “You forget that it wouldn’t be moving ‘back’ here because I’ve never lived here. This is where you and Dad live … lived. Whatever. It’s never been my home, remember?”

  “I know, sweetie. I’m just dreading the thought of living in that big old house all by myself.”

  “You could always sell it and move to a smaller house. Or find an apartment.”

  “No!” The hurt etched two tiny lines between her brows. “I’ll never leave our home. Your father loved it. He was so happy to retire in such a beautiful old house in this quaint little town. We’ve been so happy here … until now, anyway. But I worry, now that he’s gone, how I’ll go on.”

  Aubrey took a sip of her coffee. “I’m not rushing off, Mom. I’ll stay until we get you all settled. I suppose we need to get back to work on that list.”