Beverly Barton - Silent Killer

“I think I will take a walk.”

“Just don’t follow the girls. They’ll be fine on their own.”

She smiled at him. “You know me too well.”

Standing near the spring-fed pond, she scanned the park, now overrun with holiday celebrators. She knew so many of these people. Sheriff Birkett, his mother and his children were sharing lunch with Seth Cantrell and his mother and her boyfriend. Wonder what Seth thought of his mother having an affair? He had been raised to know that sex outside of marriage was a sin.

She smiled to herself. Some of these people were such hypocrites, even those who professed to be ministers of the gospel.

Her gaze settled on Patsy and Elliott Floyd, who were working their son’s food booth, both of them dutiful parents. Even Patsy, with all her good qualities, was not above sin. But her sins could never compare to the evil inflicted on others by her male counterparts.

You, Patsy Floyd, are safe from God’s wrath here on earth.

Boisterous laughter coming from the covered pavilion across the pond caught her attention. Reverend Dewan Phillips, his wife Tasha and a dozen members of their congregation were sharing an early lunch.

They all revere that man almost as if he were a demigod. They’ve put him up on a pedestal, believing him to be a saintly person. Poor fools. Their little tin god has feet of clay. The Lord knows what is in his heart.

Pure evil.

Yes, Lord, I hear You.

The time is right. I must act soon.

When Lord?

Yes, of course.

I will make preparations for tomorrow night. Guide me, Heavenly Father. Show me the way.

In humble silence, her words heard only by God, she recited John 16:13. “Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth; for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come.”

Jack lay beside Cathy, his arm draped across her naked belly, his nose nuzzling her shoulder. She had never been happier in her life. She was in love again, gloriously, passionately in love. And although they had not exchanged the words, she knew in her heart that Jack loved her, too.

How many people actually got the second chance that fate had given them?

Yesterday had been wonderful, a true celebration of not only the country’s independence but Cathy’s freedom. She was living her life by her rules and making her own decisions, as she should have been doing all her adult life.

Even today had been good. Church with Seth this morning had been followed by lunch out with Jack and a walkthrough of his house. She had been eager to show Seth the renovations in progress and brag just a little about the plans she had drawn for Jack’s contractor. And despite the continued tension between her and her mother, her in-laws seemed to be making a genuine effort to accept Seth’s decision to live full-time with her when school started next month.

Things couldn’t be better with Seth. He liked Jack, and the two were getting along great. Seth wanted to come home, to live with her, and he’d even accepted the possibility that she might one day marry Jack.

All she had to do to keep her hard-won happiness was continue lying to the two most important people in her life. But if she told Jack the truth tonight, as she had promised herself she would, what would happen? How would he react? Would he ever forgive her for keeping his son from him all these years?

And what about Seth?

Would he hate her?

She eased Jack’s arm up and off her, and then she slid out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Jack asked in a relaxed, sexy voice.

She grabbed her robe off the foot of the bed and put it on before facing him. “We need to talk.”

He sat up in bed, allowing the sheet to slip down and around his hips. “Sounds serious.” He studied her closely. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Get up and put on some clothes,” she told him. “I’ll fix us something to drink. Which do you prefer iced tea or iced coffee?”

He tossed back the covers and stood, boldly naked. “I’d prefer your staying in bed with me.” He reached down and picked up his discarded jeans from the floor. “I thought everything was fine, that life was good for us. For you and me and even for Seth.” He put on his jeans and then snatched his shirt off the nearby chair, where it had landed when he’d flung it aside in his haste to strip off hurriedly an hour earlier.

“We have to talk,” Cathy said. “I’ve put this off too long as it is.”

Leaving his shirt unbuttoned, he closed the gap between them, grabbed her gently by the upper arms and looked down into her face. “Tell me you aren’t having second thoughts about us.”

“No second thoughts,” she assured him. “As a matter of fact, I want you to know that I love you now more than I did seventeen years ago.”

He sucked in a deep breath and tightened his grip on her arms. “Is that what this is all about-you need to hear me say the words?”

“No, Jack, really, that’s not-”

“I love you, Cathy.”

Oh God. Oh God. Why now? This simply made telling him the truth about Seth even more difficult.

“Damn, woman, you’re scaring me,” Jack told her. “Take that frightened look off your face.”

“Finish getting dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”

She pulled away from him, and he let her go without protest.

“Cathy,” he called to her as she reached the door.

Without turning around, she replied, “Yes?”

“If this is going to be bad news, maybe you’d better fix me something stronger than coffee or tea.”

“Okay.” She hurried out of the bedroom, practically running away from him.

She’d barely had time to uncork the bottle of wine-the strongest liquor she had in her house-before Jack entered the kitchen. Fully dressed, but with his hair slightly mussed, he paused on the other side of the room and rubbed the back of his neck.

He eyed the two half-full wine glasses sitting on the table. He blew out a damn-it’s-bad-news breath.

When he came toward her, she held up both hands, signaling him to halt. He stopped and stared at her.

“Is it that bad?” he asked.

“Oh, Jack, I don’t know how to tell you. I-”

“Good God, whatever it is, just say it.”

She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “You haven’t pressed me to explain why I married Mark so soon after you left.”

“Is that what’s wrong, why you’re so worried? Whatever the reason, it’s all water under the bridge. We have to let go of the past and be grateful for what we have now.”

“This is part of our past that affects our present and our future.”

He nodded. “Okay. Go ahead. I’m listening.”

She wrung her hands together and then threaded her fingers in a prayerlike gesture. “A couple of months after you left, Mark came to Dunmore to conduct a gospel meeting. He was staying with his parents. I remembered him from church, of course, but he was years older, and our paths hadn’t really crossed outside of church. I knew he’d been a widower for a couple of years.

“I needed guidance, so I went to him because I thought, as a young minister who had lost the love of his life, he might understand the situation I was in better than our regular preacher, Brother Fulmer, who was stern and judgmental.” She swallowed. “Not only did Mark understand, but he was sympathetic, and during the next two weeks, while he visited his parents after the gospel meeting ended, we talked often and he came up with a solution to my problem.”

“You’ve lost me,” Jack said. “What was your situation? What problem did Mark Cantrell solve for you?”