Beverly Barton - Silent Killer

“I can’t think of anything else.”

“You’re a widow. Is that correct? Your husband was a local minister, the one murdered by the person the press is now referring to as the Fire and Brimstone Killer.”

Cathy inhaled and exhaled, then replied, “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Seth is your only child?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he’d talk to me? I’d like to get a sense of what he wants and how he feels about his grandparents retaining custody.”

“And how he feels about me?”

“Yes, that, too.”

“Does this mean you’ll take my case?”

“If it comes to that, yes, I’ll represent you, Mrs. Cantrell.”

Cathy rose to her feet. “Thank you. I’ll speak to Seth, and if he agrees to talk to you, I’ll call your secretary and make an appointment.”

Elliott stood, rounded his desk and escorted Cathy out of his office. When they reached the outer door that led to the sidewalk, he patted her shoulder.

“We’ll do everything we can to settle this matter without going to court.”

She forced a smile.

When he turned around and went back inside, she stood there and looked at the renovated antebellum cottage that had been converted into Elliott Floyd’s office. In the past dozen years or so, many of Dunmore’s older downtown homes had undergone facelifts, some as simple as fresh coats of paint and new roofs, others far more extensive.

Cathy checked her watch. She had a lunchtime appointment with Jack and his contractor, Clay Yarbrough, whom she’d never met.

Lorie had offered to take over as the consultant on this job, cautioning her about what it might cost her to renew her friendship with Jackson Perdue. But she had spent a lifetime playing it safe, doing what was expected of her, fulfilling other people’s wishes. Never again.

“You can’t turn back the clock,” Lorie had told her. “Even if you and Jack reconnect, it won’t be the same.”

No, it wouldn’t be the same. She didn’t expect it to be. Actually, she didn’t expect anything in particular. But whether she worked with Jack professionally or dated him or became his lover again, the decisions were hers to make.

Seth had jumped at the chance to do Brother Hovater’s yard work. He had three very good reasons: it pleased Granddad that their minister had asked Seth; it gave him a chance to earn some money this summer to save toward buying himself a car; and, last but most important, it gave him the opportunity to be near Missy.

Being here at his old home, cutting the grass and trimming the hedges that he had once helped his dad cut, seemed odd. He halfway expected his mom to come out the back door and bring him a bottle of Gatorade. But this was no longer his home. He and his mom and dad didn’t live here anymore. Sometimes his old life seemed like little more than a dream, as if it had been some other guy’s life.

“Hey, you,” Felicity called loudly as she came up behind him. “Why don’t you take a break? Missy and I are fixing to eat lunch, and we made enough sandwiches for all of us.”

Seth turned off the Weed Eater, propped it against the fence and yanked a rag from the back pocket of his old, tattered shorts. As he swiped the perspiration off his forehead, he turned around and faced Felicity.

“Her dad’s not here, if that’s what’s worrying you. He’s gone to Decatur to set up a gospel meeting with the church over there.”

Seth glanced past Felicity. Missy, all summer-tan brown in khaki walking shorts and a sleeveless red blouse, set a tray of sandwiches and iced tea down on the patio table. His gaze met hers. She smiled, then waved and motioned him to come on over.

“You like her, don’t you?” Felicity asked.

When he didn’t reply, she socked him in the arm. “What’d you do that for?” he asked.

“She’s nearly eighteen, you know, and you’re only fifteen. She’s not going to date a guy younger than she is.”

“I’ll be sixteen soon,” Seth said. “In August.”

“You don’t even have a car,” Felicity reminded him. “Besides that, your grandparents won’t let you date.”

“What makes you think-?”

“Just how many dates have you had, not counting being Shannon Moore’s Homecoming Court escort?”

“I’ll be dating when I turn sixteen, and I’m going to get a car, too. That’s one of the reasons I’m doing yard work this summer.”

The gate that led from the back yard to the front swung open, and Charity stood there for a couple of minutes staring at Seth and Felicity.

“What are you looking at?” Felicity snapped at her sister.

“Sorry, I-I wasn’t expecting to see Seth here today,” Charity said.

“Yoo-hoo!” Missy called out and waved. “Come on, y’all, let’s eat.”

Within minutes the four of them sat around the patio table munching on ham sandwiches, chips and pickles and sipping on ice-cold sweet tea.

“Thanks for inviting us to lunch today,” Charity said. “Mom’s working at Treasures all day, and I dreaded having lunch with Grandma. I guess I shouldn’t say such a thing, but-”

“But she’s a weird old lady who scolds us all the time and reminds us to be good girls and watch out for all the evil in the world, especially evil men.” Felicity laughed.

With his gaze glued to Missy, Seth noted an odd expression cross her face. Just a flicker, there and gone in a second. Then he glanced at Felicity and couldn’t help comparing the two girls. Missy was prettier in a wholesome sort of way. She wore very little makeup and dressed in what his granddad would call a demure, ladylike manner. Of course, with her being a Church of Christ preacher’s daughter, she had been taught to walk the straight and narrow. On the other hand, Felicity, too, was a minister’s daughter, but for some reason her parents let her get away with murder. If she’d take off some of that makeup, remove her violet contact lenses and quit dying her hair jet black, Felicity would be a cute girl.

“How was your first morning at Bright Side?” Missy asked Charity. “Is it weird to be around all those people with mental handicaps?”

“I’m working in Mrs. Maxwell’s office. She’s a very nice person. I’m answering the phone and filing stuff and entering information in the computer. I won’t actually be around the students all that much. My first morning there has been great, except-” She quieted abruptly.

“Except what?” Felicity asked as she finished off her second sandwich.

“Nothing. I shouldn’t say anything about it.” Charity lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her tea.

“You have to tell us now,” Felicity said. “Whatever it is, we can keep a secret, can’t we, guys?” She looked from Missy to Seth and then back to her sister. “Come on, spill it.”

“I really shouldn’t, but…well…Mrs. Maxwell,” Charity cleared her throat. “She told me to call her Kim.”

“Good God, stop hem-hawing around.” Felicity rolled her eyes in aggravation.

“Kim’s father came by to see her this morning, and I couldn’t help overhearing part of their conversation. They were talking pretty loud,” Charity said. “Her father is a Presbyterian minister over in Decatur, and his wife is sick. From what I could make out, he doesn’t want to take care of her himself, so Kim recommended one of her students to come live with Reverend Kelley and take care of his wife.”

Felicity groaned. “Is that it? That’s boring news. I thought you knew some deep, dark secret. Maybe something scandalous.”

“It is scandalous when a man doesn’t want to take care of his sick wife, don’t you think?” Missy said. “If he really loved her…”

“The way your dad loved and took care of your mom when she was sick,” Charity said.