The Last Amen

by C. C. Jameson

  “If the calendar says so, then it’s right.”

  “Then you had a bunch of appointments on the days that followed. Do you mind if I make note of these appointments to confirm your whereabouts?”

  “I have nothing to hide. Do what you need to do.”

  “And your son?” Kate asked.

  “I take him with me to all the fundraisers. And all of the doctor appointments are for him.”

  Kate glanced at the calendar. Not a single day was blank. “Do you mind if I ask how you can afford to pay for his medical bills?”

  “Fortunately, Jacob’s dad was a wealthy man.” Ms. Johnston offered Kate her cup of coffee. “I’m sorry, where’s my head? Do either of you take sugar or milk?”

  “Black’s fine,” Kate said as she grabbed the cup before repeating the last four words she’d voiced before talking about coffee.

  “Yes. He left us.”

  “For another woman?” Rosebud asked between sips.

  “No. For the bearded man in the sky.”

  Kate looked at Rosebud while thinking of a possible motive the woman or her son could have had to kill Lori Davis.

  “Sorry, that wasn’t a very straight-forward answer, but Jacob reacts to certain words, so I’ve learned not to use them whenever I can.”

  “No problem,” Kate said, half smiling as she considered where they stood. Asking the woman for her box of rosaries would result in days’ worth of analysis with little to no possibility of getting anything out of it. They would be better off putting cameras at the back of every church and during each fundraiser to record who bought them. But that also had its flaws. They couldn’t record the past.

  “Do you remember one person buying several rosaries at once?” Kate asked.

  “Yes. Quite a few, actually. We sell them for just two dollars each during fundraisers and they are pay-what-you-can at the back of the churches where they’re sold.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said.

  “Do you mind if I ask you one question, Detective?” the woman asked Kate.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you know Luke O’Brien? Marjorie’s son?”

  Kate hadn’t seen that question coming. “Why would you ask that?” She felt her cheeks flush.

  “So, you’re the competition.”

  “I’m not following,” Rosebud said, his eyes going from one woman to the other.

  “I met your guy a few days ago. At a fundraiser, actually. Good-looking man you have.”

  Kate didn’t want to even acknowledge the woman’s latest statement, so she got up and closed her notepad. “We got the answers we needed. Thanks so much for your time.”

  “What the heck was that?” Rosebud said as they walked back to the car.

  “Which part?”

  “The abrupt end? You’re the competition? The weird kid?”

  “Whatever. None of my business,” Kate said as she pulled open the driver’s door.

  Rosebud opened the passenger door and sat down.

  “Well,” Kate continued, “none of my business if her whereabouts and her son’s check out. Can you look into those, please?” She inserted the key into the ignition.

  “The two of them didn’t strike me as a murderous duo, but I’ll check everything.”

  “The thought of asking for her box of rosaries crossed my mind, but we don’t have the time or budget to analyze them all. If you can’t confirm their alibis, then we can reconsider.”

  “Agree.”

  “Let’s hope Wang or Chainey made more progress than we did with the friends they spoke to.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Luke sat alone, watching a re-run of Friends, his extended legs resting on the coffee table in front of him when he heard the front lock open. The beeps that echoed next told him it was Kate, and she was putting her gun away for the night.

  The time on the TV read 10:38 p.m. He turned to face the hallway, hoping she’d join him on the couch for a few minutes but instead saw her silhouette sneak up the stairs.

  “Katie, come in here!”

  She backtracked then peeked her head into the living room.

  “Hey, babe,” she said.

  “You made it home before midnight!” he said, earnestly pleased. But even he recognized the sarcasm that tinted his tone.

  “I’m sorry. You know I want to spend more time with you. These past few days have been really bad. I feel awful. I mean… this case… I’m the lead. I’ve got to find the damn killer.”

  He tapped the couch next to him. “Come here for a sec.”

  “I should really take a shower. I reek.”

  “I don’t mind. You know I love you au naturel. Sweat, stress, and everything else that makes your hair frizz.”

  She cocked her head, then smiled and walked into the room to join him on the couch. “I warned you.”

  “What are we going to do to get you a balanced life?” Luke asked rhetorically.

  “You knew what you were getting yourself into when we started dating.”

  “I know, and I love you. And I love that you love your job.”

  She turned to look at him. “Why do I sense you want to add a ‘but’ to that statement?”

  His brows went up. The instinct is strong with this one, he thought, refraining from laughing. He didn’t dare share his geeky inner monologue with her, not knowing if she’d get the reference. Instead, he settled for a safe answer. “You know me so well.”

  “So what is it?”

  “I’d like you to spend more time with me. With my mom. At home with us.”

  “There’s a killer on the loose.”

  “I know. But you’re my girlfriend, you live with me, yet I don’t get to share more than an hour or two each day with you. Is that normal, you think?”

  “Some people have it worse than us. What about long-distance relationships? Some people only see each other once a month!”

  “I’m not one of those people. I need to see my girlfriend more than once a month. More than seven hours per week.”

  “I’ll try my best. I want to spend time with you, too. But I also need to catch that killer.”

  “Didn’t you tell me Fuller gave you hell for spending too many hours at work?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “There’s no but. Even your supervisor agrees with me. Share the load with the other detectives, even if you’re the lead. Or else this job will drive you crazy.”

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. I sent you an email about June 24th. At 7:00 p.m. Mark your calendar. I’m doing something special just for you.”

  “What is it? You’re not taking me to watch a play or something like that, are you?”

  “Katie, I know you hate crowds as much as I do. I’m doing something special for you here, in the comfort of our home.”

  She straightened her back, her eyes glistening with anticipation. “Really? What for?”

  He kissed her forehead as he realized June 24th didn’t mean anything to her. Even though it had meant the world to him: the day she’d reappeared in his life after decades of being away.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Friday, June 22nd, 2018

  Seated in conference room two, the team gathered around a large box of donuts and a tray of coffee from the coffee shop across the street.

  After replenishing her sugar levels, Kate looked at the handful of portraits pinned to the cork board and addressed the other detectives. “No unmatched prints came back from the Bible, the thermostat, the front door, the night stand, the stupid blue rubber band on her hair, or the chair. Still no toxicology report. Nothing suspicious in terms of calls on either her cellphone or the family’s landline. Everything adds up to a time of death after 10:00 a.m. on Sunday until possibly midnight on Monday. Several friends have confirmed the fact that she often screened calls, so we can’t use unanswered calls. Her last public whereabouts were Sunday mass. Nobody saw her leave after church, but she obviously made it back home.�
��

  She took a sip from her coffee before continuing. “While we aren’t positive on the actual motive behind the murder, the religious theme, her being a member of the chastity club, and her recent loss of virginity point toward that incident being important. As far as we know, the only people who had access to that information were the victim, the boyfriend, the BFF, and possibly Father Coffedy, the priest she confessed to. Who’s to say whether or not gossiping would have spread out the news?”

  She took another sip. “Wang, Chainey, based on the neighbors and other people you spoke with, can you narrow down the estimated time of death?”

  Both shook their heads.

  “Financial records? Does anyone stand to gain from an insurance policy on Lori Davis?”

  “The parents, but we all know they weren’t even in the country.”

  Kate exhaled loudly. “Did you look at the parents’ financials? Anything suspicious? Could they have paid someone to kill their daughter?” As the words left her lips, she realized she didn’t buy that scenario one bit. The parents had seemed truly devastated. Even if they had learned that their daughter had lost her virginity—a possibility she highly doubted—she didn’t buy the possibility that they would have hired someone to kill her.

  “Nothing.”

  “Chainey, give me something,” Kate begged.

  “I talked to the officers we had canvassing the neighbors, and nobody saw anything suspicious. I talked to friends from church, from work, from the school she last attended. Nothing.”

  Kate took another sip. “We considered the boyfriend, but he’s been eliminated. He attended mass at a different location that Sunday, followed by a baseball game and an evening with friends. His whereabouts on Monday all day are also accounted for. His work supervisor confirmed his presence. Unless he did it in the middle of the night on Sunday night and somehow showed up looking sharp at work the next day, he’s not our guy. Plus we found nothing in his house. No suspicious drugs, no rosaries.”

  “If I may…” Wang started.

  “Go ahead,” Kate said.

  “I still think Amanda McCutcheon could have something to do with Lori’s murder. She would have had access to rosaries through church. Amanda’s part of the chastity club. She knew Lori had lost her virginity—and done so with the guy she likes, I think. When I saw her with the boyfriend, I sensed some sort of weird vibe between the two of them.”

  Kate straightened her back. “When did you see them together?”

  “Tuesday morning. She came in to talk with you and Rosebud, but I met with David so he could sign his statement from the previous day. I had everything typed up and ready to go, as you asked me. I watched the two of them interact for a few seconds.”

  “Interesting,” Kate said. “So you think she could have killed the vic because she was jealous? Love triangle?”

  “Would she have the strength to pull it off? Lifting a passed-out woman isn’t easy,” Rosebud said.

  “We’re not sure that happened. She could have drugged the victim after getting her in her bedroom,” Wang suggested.

  Rosebud shook his head. “Undressing and redressing a body requires heavy lifting.”

  “Know that from experience?” Chainey chimed in.

  “Ha-ha,” Rosebud said, digging into the donut box once more.

  Wang shrugged. “They could have played ‘dress up’ or whatever. She could have dared her to wear the awful nightgown.”

  “For what purpose?” Kate asked.

  “No clue,” Wang said, shaking her head. “Lost a bet or something silly? But we know Amanda and the vic were close. Amanda wouldn’t have had to force her way into the house. They could have gone up to her bedroom to chat.”

  “There’s only one chair and one desk,” Rosebud said.

  “One could have sat on the bed.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that,” Kate said. “Except there’s one tiny detail that doesn’t add up. Lori was upset at Amanda. They had a fight. And based on everyone we talked to, all her friends knew to avoid her for days afterward. The vic needed a lot of time to calm down, or so it seems. Why would she have let a person she was angry with come into her home?”

  “Maybe Amanda came with a big apology?”

  Kate tilted her head. “Maybe.”

  “I can’t think of anyone else,” Wang said.

  “Me neither. Wang, continue that scenario for me. Let’s assume Lori forgave Amanda, or at least had cooled off enough to let her in. Then what?”

  “Then Amanda went up to Lori’s room, somehow got her to dress up and then drugged her. She could have carried a drink with her that was already roofied—”

  Kate interrupted her. “Amanda did mention that Lori’s parents have quite the liquor cabinet. Wang, did you find anything in the garbage? A drink bottle or something we could test for drugs?”

  “Nothing at all. The large bin just outside the house was empty. But so much time elapsed after the murder. Garbage would have been picked up. The small garbage cans in the house were almost all empty, except for one with nail polish-related trash and a few used tissues in one of the bathrooms. I’m having the contents analyzed for DNA. There was some stale bread in the kitchen garbage along with some granola bar wrappers, also in for fingerprint and DNA testing. Just in case someone licked the sucker. Unlikely, though.”

  “Get all bottles in the parents’ liquor cabinet analyzed for drugs,” Kate added. “Maybe it’s been sitting there all along, under our nose. Wang?”

  “On it. But maybe she had a pill or something that she slipped directly into her drink. Then she washed the glass. I’ll canvas the neighborhood with Amanda’s photo, ask neighbors if they saw her on Sunday or Monday.”

  “Good.” Kate turned her attention to Chainey. “Any leads from the church friends or chastity members you spoke to?”

  “Nope. Everyone says she was closest to Amanda. I asked—out of curiosity, I claimed—what would happen to a member of their club if they were to defy their one rule.”

  “And?” Kate asked, surprised.

  Chainey muffled a laugh. “Every single one of them asked me to share who it was and swore they would keep the secret to themselves.”

  “What a gossipy bunch!” Wang said.

  “Don’t miss my school years for that exact reason,” Rosebud added.

  Chainey rammed his fist into Rosebud’s plump shoulder. “Come on. I bet your curly hair, thick glasses, and love handles made you very popular with the ladies.”

  Kate watched Rosebud’s nostrils flare. “Chainey, enough of your silly jokes. We’re all exhausted. We’ve done as much as we can physically do this week, and I hate that we have nothing to show for it. Now I have to go and brief Fuller.”

  Rosebud grabbed one more donut before he spoke again. “Try to come out of it alive.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Saturday, June 23rd, 2018

  Kate began the day like she did every twenty-third of June since 1996. Lying in bed with her eyes closed, thinking about her dead parents and baby brother. And about how lucky she was to still be alive.

  She normally took the day off to head out of state, but she couldn’t afford that luxury this year. Not with the murder of Lori Davis weighing heavily on her shoulders. Whoever her killer was, he or she was still out there. Since they hadn’t found a single believable motive or a real suspect among her friends and relatives, Kate feared the worst: maybe Lori’s killing had been random. Or part of a deranged person’s larger plan.

  Exhaling loudly, Kate forced herself out of bed, eager to do something else. To think of anything else but her family’s cold case or Lori’s murder.

  After peering outside the bedroom window and seeing the sun shine, she decided to don her running gear and head out.

  Pounding the pavement could lead to an unexpected stroke of genius. She could sure use one of those right now.

  Her earbuds in and favorite selection of tunes lined up, she walked downstairs and stopped by the kitc
hen to greet Luke and his mom briefly before heading to the entrance to lace up her shoes and finally breathe in some fresh air.

  The morning air was unseasonably crisp, but Kate hoped the temperature would soar by the time the midday sun shone above the city, as it sometimes did this time of year when the air was clear. Dodging a dog walker and her five four-legged friends, Kate weaved her way around the pedestrians until she reached the closest park. She much preferred running in parks over the streets, even though she’d been badly beat up once, a few years ago.

  But that was then. And this was now.

  Her head was clear. The park was safe in the daytime and she was paying attention to her surroundings, even though music faintly reached her ears through her headphones. The sounds that surrounded her were much, much louder. She’d learned her lesson.

  She ran loops around the small park, running on grass to take it easy on her joints, careful to avoid rocks and the treasures left behind by animals. By the time she finished her third loop, she realized no epiphany was coming.

  The only thing that her gut told her was that she had to call the hypnotherapist and schedule another appointment. The doctor had been kind enough to offer some after-hour openings for her, considering the type of work she did. Of course, those slots came at a premium price, but her detective salary was enough to cover it and she’d have extra money coming in whenever she sold Kenny’s house.

  What better day than the anniversary of their death to go deep and figure this out?

  She took out her phone and called the therapist, leaving her a message asking if she could fit her in later today, then headed back home to take a shower.

  “…and one,” the hypnotherapist said to Kate. “You’re at home, talking to your mom on the morning of June 23rd, 1995. Tell me what you see.”

  “I don’t see anything, except for what I remember from my dreams.”

  “Forget about your dreams. Focus on what feels real right now. Maybe you smell something. Maybe you hear—”