by Diane Moody
“Well, yeah. First, I went to his house down the street, but he wasn’t home. I thought about breaking in to wait for him, but I figured he’d just have my butt hauled back to prison.”
Peyton remained silent.
“Do you know what time it was when you were at Peyton’s house?”
“No. Why should I?”
“Was it still light outside? Dark?”
“It was dark.”
“Tell me what you did next.”
“I figured he might be at the church, so I walked there. I knew the front doors would be locked that time of night, so I went around to the back entrance.”
“Were there any cars in the parking lot behind the church?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Were there or weren’t there? It’s a simple question.”
“I said I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“Go on. What did you do next?”
“The back door was locked, but I figured I could open it easy enough. If Peyton wasn’t there, I’d just lock it when I left.”
“Did you knock first or call out his name?”
“No, I figured I’d surprise him.”
“So you broke in.”
“Yeah,” he said with a snort. “It’s incredible how lame the locks were. You would think a church with all those computers and sound equipment and musical instruments would have some kind of decent security. I could’ve opened every door and window in that place with my eyes closed.”
He turned his eyes toward Peyton. “In fact, I should bill you for analyzing the need for security measures at your church. At the very least, have someone install some decent locks.”
Peyton leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
Sterling continued. “So what did you do once you got inside?”
“I looked around, found the office, knocked, called out my brother’s name. He wasn’t there, so I popped that lock in about five seconds. I just wanted to look around. Sit at his desk. Touch all his important stuff. Violate his private space like any good criminal would.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I’d been there for about five or ten minutes, I guess, when I heard someone open and close the back door. I thought it might be Peyton and decided I’d like to give him a good scare. When we were little kids, I loved scaring him so bad he’d wet himself.”
Tristan’s laughter bounced off the walls before slowing to a chuckle. “One of my favorite things to do, especially when we were leaving for church. I loved seeing Mom get mad at you for a change.”
Peyton had the faintest memory of those embarrassments, his mother upset with him while Tristan fell over himself laughing.
“Go on,” Sterling prompted.
“So I thought I’d quietly shut the office door and stay inside. I listened, but I didn’t hear much of anything for a few minutes, just someone rustling things around, walking down the hall, that sort of thing. Then the same door opened and closed, and I thought maybe whoever it was had left. But that’s when I heard voices.”
“Voices? More than one?”
“Yes, and I could tell it was a heated conversation, but enough out of range that I couldn’t hear what was being said.”
“Were they male or female voices?”
Tristan shook his head. “I have no idea. They were too far from me. From behind the sanctuary, though I didn’t know it at the time.”
“How did you know—”
“There was a lot of muffled shouting that went on and on, then all of a sudden it went quiet. I thought maybe they’d left, so I cracked the office door just enough to peek out. I didn’t hear or see anything for a couple of minutes, then I heard some hurried footsteps, like someone was running. Then I heard the back door click open, then shut again.
“I waited a couple more minutes then slowly eased open the door. I was careful to keep my footsteps silent when I started looking around. When I was sure no one else was in the building, I made a second loop around the back of the sanctuary—I guess it’s actually the area behind the front of the sanctuary. Back where the baptistry is.
“Suddenly I heard water start running. That’s what drew me back there. I thought whoever had been there had turned the water in the baptistry on, so I went back there to take a look … and there he was.”
Sterling straightened. Peyton did the same. “You saw him?” Peyton asked.
“Yeah.”
“You saw Harley Creech?” Sterling asked.
“Well, I didn’t know who he was, now did I? I just saw some fat guy lying at the bottom with his head bent at an unnatural angle.” He quaked with a shiver. “His eyes were staring straight up. Man, I’ve gotta tell you, it was the creepiest thing I ever saw.”
“Did you at least check his pulse?” Peyton asked.
“Didn’t have to. It was obvious he was dead. Nobody with a head snapped at that angle could survive.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Sterling asked.
Tristan slowly tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips. “Gee, I wonder why I didn’t do that? Let me think. Oh, that’s right. A convicted felon calling the police to report a dead body, just two days after being released from prison? How exactly would that play out, do you think?”
“And yet, here you are,” Peyton said before he could stop himself.
Sterling rustled his hair then leaned forward on his elbows. “All right. What did you do after you found Harley?”
“What do you think? I got the hell out of there. I ran back to my car—”
“Where was your car parked? In Peyton’s driveway?”
“No, I’d parked around the corner and down the street a’ways.”
“Why?” Peyton asked.
“Because I wasn’t sure if you actually lived there. It was an address off the Internet. For all I knew, you could’ve moved. I wasn’t taking any chances.”
“But that makes no sense,” Peyton said. “Whether I lived there or not, wouldn’t you just park in the driveway and go up and knock on the door?”
“No. That’s not how it works. You go spend a few years in prison and see what it does to your mind and the way you think. You’re suspicious of everyone and everything. You take no chances.”
“So you ran back to your car and then what?” Sterling asked.
“I got out of there as fast as I could. But I knew I was almost out of gas, so I had to stop and fill up before I got on the interstate. Stupid move, as it turns out.”
“Stupid move for you; a big break for us,” Sterling said. “Where did you go when you left the gas station?”
“I drove back to my buddy’s cabin near Gatlinburg. Another stupid mistake, but I thought I’d dump the car at his place and hitchhike somewhere else.”
“And yet, here you are,” Peyton repeated.
“Is there anything else you’d like to add before we end our conversation?” Sterling asked.
“Yeah.” Tristan stretched his back as best he could with his hands cuffed, twisting in his chair first this way, then that. He leaned forward again, looking first at Sterling, then slowly trailing his narrowed eyes over to Peyton.
“I didn’t do it.”
Chapter 22
When Peyton left the sheriff’s station that afternoon, he intended to stop by to see Aubrey and tell her about the meeting with Tristan and hearing his testimony. But his plans abruptly took a detour when he was notified of a horrific accident involving the preschool son of a church family whose injuries were life-threatening. He raced to St. Thomas Hospital in midtown Nashville to be with the family and offer as much support as he could. After several long hours waiting with other members of the family, the doctors conferred with young Brady’s parents, informing him that their son was still in critical condition, but his prospects for recovery had improved.
Later, around six-thirty, with a box of pizza stashed in his backpack and Aubrey in tow, he took the winding road up the hill to the
Braxton water tower.
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked when he pulled up below it.
Stepping out of the car he gazed up at the tower above them. “You have to admit it’s the best view in town.”
Aubrey opened her door and joined him. “Well sure, but it’s the climb getting up there that worries me.”
“You’re not afraid of heights are you?”
“No, but that’s a wicked climb up all those rungs.”
He threaded his arms through the straps of his backpack. “They’re not as bad as they look.”
“You come here a lot?”
“Actually, I do.”
She stared at him with a half smile. “Well then, up we go.”
When they finally set foot on the lofty platform, she turned to see the lights of Braxton below. “Okay, now it makes sense. You’re right, Peyton. The view is breathtaking.”
“I like coming up here, especially when the sun sets, to get my bearings, y’know? Clear my head. That sort of thing.”
He watched her grip the rail and glance down below. “Does it ever bother you that someone took his life here?”
“I think of it now and then, but I wasn’t living here when that happened. Course, now that I think of it, that may be the subconscious reason I always look out on Braxton and not directly down on the concrete below.”
“Maybe so.”
“Here, take my hand and have a seat.”
Once they were settled, he pulled the box of pizza from his backpack along with two chilled cans of Coke and a handful of napkins.
He handed her a slice of pizza. “I know it’s not as stunning as a New York sunset, but not too bad for us country folk, right?”
“It’s beautiful. Thanks for bringing me.”
They ate silently for a couple of moments, then Aubrey took a sip of Coke and said, “Want to tell me about your day?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about Tristan’s arrival in Braxton?”
He wiped his mouth and laughed. “I see you’re getting used to our small town ways. Word travels fast.”
“Yes, it does, but Mom and I were at Denton’s this morning when the vehicle drove by with Tristan in the back seat. Sugar was sitting at our table—”
“Ah, the Sugarland Express. I should have known.”
Aubrey laughed. “Yes, you could say that.”
She described the scene when Sugar announced to the breakfast crowd that Pastor Peyton was in the back of a patrol car and the ensuing commotion.
Peyton shook his head with an easy chuckle. “She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”
“She certainly is. But go ahead. Tell me what happened with Tristan.”
“Well, the good news is, I’m no longer a person of interest.”
“It’s about time. But wait—does that mean Tristan admitted to killing Harley?”
“No, but he was definitely in town that night and at the church, which explains why Ida Rose thought she saw me there.”
He told her everything, all the details of Tristan’s version of what happened that night, and his own thoughts about his brother’s innocence.
“I’m not sure why I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt, but in my heart, I just cannot convince myself he killed Harley. Then again, how do you trust someone who hasn’t been honest in decades?”
“Good question.”
“Still, in spite of Tristan’s bad-boy nature, I’ve never once known him to hurt any living creature. When we were around eight or nine years old, we found a kitten in the middle of the street. The tabby must have been hit by a car, but its faint meows caught Tristan’s attention. He told me to keep an eye out for cars while he attended to it. He carefully scooped up the tiny ball of fur and carried it to the house for Mom to help. But the injuries were too serious and the kitten died a few minutes later. It was the first time I ever saw Tristan cry. He was inconsolable.
“Then there was the time in the woods behind our house, we came across some boys taunting a Down Syndrome kid from our school. Tristan jettisoned himself headfirst into the stomach of the biggest bully, knocking him flat. I had never seen him fight before or witnessed the kind of rage that consumed him. One by one the boys scattered, including the bully once he could pick himself up off the ground.
“Then Tristan put his arm around the boy, making sure he was all right, and insisted on walking him home. As I tagged along, I heard Tristan promise Timmy he would be his own personal bodyguard. Even all these years later, I can still see the wide, sweet smile on Timmy’s face as he gave Tristan a big hug. And true to his word, Tristan looked out for Timmy whenever he could. Always left an empty seat next to him in the school cafeteria for Timmy.”
“I see what you mean. It’s hard to imagine someone with compassionate instincts like that to turn into a murderer.”
“I know. For all his shortcomings, I know that somewhere, deep down in his heart, there’s still some good. He just prefers to hide it.”
“Why is that?
“He’s just so lost, Aubrey.” Peyton shook his head. “I guess I’ll never understand how two people who came from the same egg can be identical in appearance but polar opposite in every other way.”
“So he’s always been that way? Even as a little child?”
“Even then. We were always competitive, but different. Like, I had the book smarts for good grades while Tristan was a fantastic athlete. He started out in T-ball then Little League, and found himself, I guess you could say. Then he went on to play basketball and football as well. But by the time he was in high school, he kept getting kicked off the squads for rough play and poor grades.
“Then he started gravitating toward the wrong crowd. He took up smoking at fourteen and stole his first pack of cigarettes the same year. By fifteen, he could jimmy any lock, hot-wire most cars, and pickpocket like the best street rat in a Dickens novel. But he had the most uncanny ability to avoid getting caught. Because he was so charming—and especially popular with the girls—he could always elude anyone who suspected him of foul play.”
“What a character.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“That must have been so hard for your parents.”
“It caused them so much heartache. Mom lived in a constant state of grief over his miserable attitude, the foul language, and that rock-hard chip on his shoulder. When he and Dad argued and fought, I always tried to intervene, but it never made a difference. I hate to admit it, but eventually I just gave up on him. It killed me that I couldn’t get through to him. And as sad as it sounds, there was no peace in our home until he moved out at the beginning of our senior year in high school. That’s when he dropped out.”
“That’s so sad.”
“It was,” Peyton said, tossing his napkin onto the open lid of the pizza box. “And now, all of a sudden, after all these years, suddenly he’s back in my life. Obviously he came here to find me, but I can’t understand why. He said he came to ask me for money, but I don’t know. Either way, he’s here.”
Aubrey finished her second piece of pizza. “Do you think there’s any hope for him?”
“The pastor’s heart in me wants to believe there’s hope for everyone, no matter how badly they mess up their lives. But Tristan?” He shook his head. “It will take nothing short of a miracle.”
“Did he ever believe in God?” she asked.
“We both walked the aisle on the same day when the invitation was given. We were eight years old, but I knew exactly what I was doing, asking Jesus into my heart. When Tristan followed me down the aisle, I asked him what he was doing.” Peyton grinned. “He said it was between him and God and none of my business. So that was that. But I’ll be honest. I never saw a shred of difference in his life or any evidence of his faith.”
“But miracles still happen, right?”
“Yes, they do. I can’t even imagine Tristan changing for the better, but I still pray it will happen.”
“I’m really sorry, but I have to take this call. It’s my boss. He had a meltdown today, and I’m trying to do damage control. Do you mind?”
“No problem. Want me to climb down and give you some privacy?”
She gave him a smirk and shook her head. When he laughed, she held a finger to her lips as she connected the call.
“Hello Dustin.”
“Aubrey, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to be back at the office tomorrow morning or face the consequences.”
“You know I can’t do that. I’ve explained my situation here to you. Several times, actually.”
“I’m afraid that’s just not good enough. We’re on the brink of losing the Federly deal, and that’s because you haven’t been here to stay on task.”
“On the contrary, I’ve stayed in constant contact with my team. And unless something has happened in the last couple of hours when I spoke directly with Mr. Federly, I can assure you we are not on the brink of losing his account or any other that I’m aware of.”
“Not five minutes ago, Jade marched into my office and said Mr. Federly was hinting at jumping ship.”
“So that’s what this is about? When was the last time Jade was ever right about a client? Or better yet, when was the last time he functioned in any capacity apart from stirring discontent among the employees? He’s got to go. And I don’t care if he is your wife’s nephew.”
She watched Peyton’s brows spike on his forehead as he gave her a silly smile. She pressed her lips together keep from laughing.
“This isn’t about Jade,” Dustin snapped. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”
Aubrey closed her eyes. “Dustin, what’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I’m not the problem. You are. I think I’ve been extremely generous in allowing you to spend this time with your mother, but I did not hire you to work from some God-forsaken backwoods town in Tennessee. Your job is here in Manhattan. Either get on a plane tonight or find another job.”
