Beverly Barton - Silent Killer

“I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” Nana told them. “I imagine I’ll find J.B. piddling in the garage.”

As soon as Nana left, Grandmother glowered at him. “You will not move in with your mother. Do you hear me? She isn’t a suitable role model for any young person. She is living in sin with that Perdue man!”

“I like Jack,” Seth said. “I think my mom loves him, and he loves her. I hope they get married. Mom deserves to be happy.”

“She’ll never be happy with Jackson Perdue. He was a good-for-nothing boy, and he hasn’t changed. He was all wrong for my Cathy seventeen years ago, and he’s still all wrong for her.”

“Don’t you think that’s Mom’s decision to make, not yours?”

Grandmother gasped. “You’re being impertinent. It’s her influence, isn’t it? She’s become someone I hardly know.” Grandmother ranted, seeming to lose control of her anger. “The only time in her life when she defied me, she wound up in trouble, and if she doesn’t watch out, she’ll wind up pregnant and unmarried again. How she can give that man a second chance is beyond me. He doesn’t deserve a second chance.”

Seth suddenly felt sick. His stomach knotted painfully. “What do you mean she’ll wind up pregnant and unmarried again?”

Grandmother stared at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as she realized she had inadvertently blurted out some horrible family secret.

“Was my mother pregnant with another baby before she had me?” he asked, and all the while his mind was calculating the years.

“Seth, please, I-I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t mean to-”

“Was I that baby? Was Mom pregnant with me when she married my dad…when she married Mark Cantrell?”

“Mark Cantrell was your father,” Grandmother declared. “In every way that mattered. He loved you. He was a good father.”

Seth swallowed hard.

“Seth?” Grandmother reached out for him.

He sidestepped her and ran toward the front door.

“Seth!” she screamed. “Please come back. Let me explain.”

He rushed out onto the porch, down the steps and into the yard. He could hear his grandmother calling his name over and over again. Ignoring her, the rush of blood pumping through his body filled his ears with its roar as he ran up the street.

Mark Cantrell wasn’t his father. Not his real father. His mother had been pregnant with him when she’d gotten married.

He didn’t want to believe it. Had his mother lied to him his entire life? Had the man he had called Dad, the man he had loved and respected and tried to emulate, not been his biological father?

Winded from his fierce run, Seth paused on the corner of Mulberry and Fourth to catch his breath.

Grandmother had no reason to lie to him. In fact, she had been horrified when she’d realized she had blurted out the truth.

And what was that truth?

If Mark Cantrell wasn’t his father, then who was?

You know, an inner voice said. You know there’s only one man it could be.

Yes, he knew. There was no doubt in his mind that Jackson Perdue was the man who’d gotten his teenage mother pregnant.

She sat alone in the gazebo. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with God.

Had she made a terrible mistake last night? Surely God would not have allowed the wrong man to die. No, she had to believe that the man she had mistakenly thought to be Dewan Phillips had been God’s chosen sacrifice. She might make a mistake, but the Lord Almighty did not. Reverend Phillips was not innocent. It had simply not been his time. But his time would come.

God will show me the day of his punishment.

For now she would wait and pray and be thankful that no one suspected her of being the angel of death.

Perry Fuqua’s wife had seen a woman running away from the Phillipses’ home last night. Too bad for Missy. If the Lord hadn’t instructed her to leave Missy’s locket where the police could find it, she never would have done such a thing. But her work was far too important to God to risk being stopped before she completed her holy mission.

I’m sorry, Missy. I know you have endured so much misery, but I’m sure you will be all right. The Lord has told me that no real harm will come to you. By casting doubt on you, the police will have someone to focus on-leaving me free to continue doing God’s work.

She needed time to reflect on last night’s events. It was the first time that she had misunderstood God’s instructions. She had been so sure that He had wanted her to punish Dewan Phillips. But instead His wrath had destroyed Perry Fuqua.

Forgive me, Lord, for not listening more carefully.

You must know that as the Apostle Paul believed, so I believe.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day.” II Timothy 14:7-8.

But you have not finished your course, she heard God whisper in her ear.

Your work is not done. There are others to be punished.

She dropped to her knees, her hands folded in prayer, her eyes filled with tears. “I am Yours to command. Lead me to the unholy blasphemers, and I will do Thy will, wise and just Jehovah.”

Cathy had tried to telephone Jack several times, but apparently whenever he noted that she was the caller, he wouldn’t answer. She understood that he was working, that the new Fire and Brimstone Killer case took precedence over everything else, but the least he could do was give her one minute of his time. They needed to talk as soon as possible. All she wanted was to set up a time and place for them to meet to discuss Seth.

How would she ever be able to explain to her son why she had lied to him his entire life? And that’s what she had done. She could make every excuse under the sun, but in the end, the truth was the truth. She had allowed him to believe that Mark Cantrell was his father, and even though Mark had been a good father to Seth, he had not been his biological father.

If she couldn’t get in touch with Jack, then she had two options-either go ahead and tell Seth the truth or wait and hope Jack didn’t talk to him first. She hated both options.

As she paced the floor in her living room, trying to decide on a course of action, two things happened simultaneously. Her phone rang, and Seth, using the key she had given him, opened the front door and walked in. She smiled at Seth as she picked up the portable phone from the charger. When she noted the strange expression on his face, she gripped the phone tightly. He stood there, only a few feet from her, his whole body tense and his eyes riveted to hers. She glanced away momentarily to check caller ID, hoping it was Jack, but when she saw it was her mother, she silently groaned.

“It’s probably Grandmother,” Seth told her.

“Yes, it is. How did you-?”

“She’s calling to warn you that she told me Mark Cantrell wasn’t really my father.”

Cathy dropped the phone. It hit the floor with a loud thump.

“What did you say?”

You heard him. You know what he said.

What had possessed her mother to take it upon herself to reveal Cathy’s deepest, darkest secret?

“Granddad got upset when I told him that I definitely planned to come and live with you. He called Grandmother to come over and try to talk me out of it. She became really frustrated when I told her that I liked Jack Perdue and hoped you married him. That’s when she spit it out-the truth that you were pregnant when you got married.”

“Seth, please, let me explain.”

“Explain what? That you and Jack Perdue had sex and you got pregnant and you suckered my dad-scratch that-you suckered poor old Mark Cantrell into marrying you when you couldn’t get Jack?”