Beverly Barton - Silent Killer

When Missy didn’t respond to Charity’s comment, Felicity grabbed the bag of potato chips and shook out a tall stack onto her plate. “So were they arguing, Mrs. Maxwell and her father?”

“Yes, I think so.” Charity shook her head. “I only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, but I think they were arguing about the best way to take care of Kim’s mother. My guess is that Reverend Kelley wants to put her away somewhere so he doesn’t have to be bothered with her.”

Felicity faked several yawns as she patted her hand over her mouth. “Boring stuff. Let’s talk about something more interesting.”

Frowning, Charity gave her sister a condemning glare.

To break the tension in the air, Missy asked, “Are y’all going to the youth rally Reverend Floyd is hosting tomorrow night? Just about everybody from school is going.”

“A youth rally,” Felicity whined. “Jesus, Missy, you’re as boring as Charity. You two really need to get a life.”

“I’m going,” Seth said. “To the rally. Granddad isn’t much into my visiting other churches, but since this is being held at the community center and it’s not any kind of church service, he’s okay with my going.”

Missy smiled at Seth, and suddenly everyone else disappeared. They were the only two people in the world. “I’m going, too. Would you like to ride with me? Dad’s letting me take my car.”

“Hey, if you two are going, count me in,” Felicity said. “Pick me up, too, okay?”

Seth wanted to tell Felicity that she hadn’t been invited to go with them, but he’d been taught not to be rude. Besides, before he had a chance to do more than process the fact that Felicity had just blown his big chance to be alone with Missy, Missy said, “Of course. All of you can ride with me. We’ll make a night of it. You know the youth rally lasts until eight o’clock Saturday morning.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” Felicity looked right at Seth. “We could slip off in the night and have some real fun.”

Jack’s phone rang just as he unlocked the patrol car. He glanced at the caller ID and grinned.

“Yes, he showed up, in person. He’s quite a know-it-all,” Jack said. “A man with a great deal of information and some interesting theories, but unfortunately nothing that pinpoints our killer.”

Maleah laughed. “You didn’t like him.”

“Do not project your feelings onto me. You don’t like him. I found Derek Lawrence to be intelligent, articulate and intuitive.”

“You didn’t like him,” she repeated.

“I’m withholding judgment until I know him better.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Mr. Lawrence has decided to stay in Dunmore for a while. Our Fire and Brimstone Killer fascinates him.”

Maleah groaned. “I’m sorry, but you did ask for his help. I had no idea he’d do anything more than send you his report. Just remember that if he steps on any toes and pisses off the wrong people, I was just the go-between, at your request.”

“I promise I won’t shoot the messenger,” Jack assured her.

“Are you at work or…?”

“Heading out for lunch. I’m meeting the contractor, a guy named Clay Yarbrough. Mike recommended him. He added on a sunroom and a deck at Mike’s place.”

“Clay Yarbrough. The name doesn’t sound familiar. He must not be from Dunmore originally.”

“He’s originally from Athens,” Jack said.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually going to restore the old place and live there. A year ago, I’d have bet good money that you’d never ever even spend a night there.”

“A lot has changed in a year.”

“Is Cathy Nelson…uh, Cathy Cantrell still…?”

“Yes. She’s going to work with us on this project. As a matter of fact, she’s meeting us for lunch.”

“Would I be nosy if I asked…?”

“Yes, you would.”

“Well, I’m going to ask anyway. After all, I am your sister, and that gives me certain rights.”

“That works both ways, you know,” Jack told her.

“Yes, I guess it does.”

“I’ll answer your questions about Cathy if you answer a couple of questions about why you dislike Derek Lawrence so much.”

“I’d think that after your meeting him, that would be obvious. He’s a smug, conceited, know-it-all jerk.”

“Hmm…”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if he did something to hurt you, as your big brother, then I’ll have to beat the crap out of him.” Jack barely managed not to chuckle.

“Oh, good God, you think…That’s ridiculous…We never…I never,” she sputtered. “Believe me, I’m not his type, no more than he’s mine.”

“So, baby sister, just what is your type?”

“Nice, sweet, boy next door. Good job, but not rich. Intelligent, but not a genius. Someone who respects my opinions as much as I respect his.”

“In other words, everything that Derek Lawrence is not.”

Maleah groaned. “My turn to ask you about Cathy. Are you going to ask her out on a real date?”

“Maybe. Yeah, I think I probably am.”

“Take it slow and easy, okay? One step at a time. She broke your heart once. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

“You were just a kid when I was involved with Cathy. How do you know she broke my heart?”

“After they shipped you back home and you were in the hospital, full of pain medication, you talked about her,” Maleah said.

“Oh.”

“I love you, you know.”

Jack heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Have a nice lunch. And remember to take some photos while the remodeling is going on and send them to me. If you change the place enough where it looks completely different inside and out, I might actually come for a visit.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

When they said good-bye and Jack slipped his phone onto the belt clip, he tried not to think about the reasons Maleah hated their childhood home so much. As far as he knew, after he’d left to join the army, Nolan had never laid a hand on her again. He had warned his stepfather that he’d kill him if he ever touched Maleah. But she had lived in that house of horrors for nearly five years after he left, until she’d gone away to college. Even if Nolan hadn’t abused her physically, Jack suspected the psychological abuse had been bad enough. Sometimes, he still felt guilty about leaving her there, but if he hadn’t gotten away when he did, he would have wound up killing his stepfather.

Bruce Kelley folded his hands together and pressed them against his forehead. “Dear God, help me.”

He hadn’t wanted to sedate Sandie, but he’d had little choice. This morning’s episode had been the worst she’d ever had. Although she had known who he was, he had been unable to convince her that their three children were now adults and living on their own. She had searched the house in a frenzy of fear and uncertainty, looking for Kim, Kira and Kevin.

“Someone has kidnapped my babies,” she had told him, genuine terror in her eyes. “We have to call the police. Do you hear me, Bruce? Do something. Do something now!”

When he had tried to comfort her, she had balled her hands into tight fists and pummeled his chest repeatedly. And when he had tried to restrain her, she had fought him like a madwoman. He had begged and pleaded, doing his best to calm her without physically hurting her. But she had broken away from him and run out the front door and into the yard, screaming at the top of her lungs. Neighbors had come out of their houses, and when two of the ladies, Glenda Pittman and Judy Calhoun, realized what was happening, they had rushed over to help. But Sandie hadn’t recognized the women, even though both had lived on either side of them for a good many years.