A Wedding and a Killing (21 page)

Sheriff’s Deputy Guy Stacey looked like a beaten dog when he entered the interview room to find Mac Faraday sitting at the conference table with a case file resting in front of him.

Mac rose from his seat and invited the deputy who had shot him with a stun gun only the night before to sit across from him. “Thank you so much for coming in.”

“My supervisor made it sound like I didn’t have a choice,” the deputy said while taking his seat. “Look, if this is about my shooting you last night …”

“No,” Mac replied, “I completely understand. I’ve been on your side. Last night, I had to make it look good in order to uncover the truth about what’s been happening here.”

“It’s all over about Hawkins and Nichols,” Deputy Stacey said. “I’d suspected before, but had no definite proof. So if you asked me to come in for that, I wish I could help you, but I really don’t know anything, except how certain people in this county have had a free pass as far as the law’s been concerned.”

“Actually, I want to talk to you about a different issue.” Mac’s eyes met those of the deputy’s. “The murder of Jason Fairbanks.”

Mac paused while the sheriff’s deputy stared wordlessly across the table at him.

“Portia Hagar alleged that Jason Fairbanks raped her,” Mac said. “According to the police records, you were the first officer on the scene when she called the police. When Hawkins refused to press charges against Fairbanks, you made numerous calls to the sheriff and even Hawkins’ office about the lack of action.”

When the deputy said nothing, Mac explained, “I’ve been there, Stacey. I’ve investigated cases and arrested violent suspects where I had everything I needed for the prosecutors to move forward but, because of some political maneuvering or deal making behind the scenes, nothing was done and the bad guy walked away.”

Deputy Stacey asked, “What’s this about?”

“I think when the system refused to stop Jason Fairbanks, you decided to do it yourself.”

“I did not kill Fairbanks,” the deputy said.

“I talked to Portia Hagar,” Mac said.

His mouth drawn tight, Deputy Stacey gazed straight ahead.

Mac lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to get you into trouble. I simply want to know what happened.”

“I want to talk to my union rep,” Stacey said in a dead-pan voice.

“Deputy, I assure you, this meeting is completely off the record,” Mac said. “I don’t think you killed Jason Fairbanks.”

“I’m not a rookie, Faraday,” the deputy said. “I know how to manipulate suspects. So don’t you sit there—”

“You threatened me this morning,” Mac reminded him. “You risked your career and criminal charges to avenge a rape victim when the system refused to give her justice. I don’t think you would purposely frame an innocent woman for murder. And I suspect that if you killed Fairbanks and accidentally framed her, that you would have found some way of clearing her name—maybe even confess to the murder yourself?”

Deputy Stacey looked around to ensure that their conversation was not being recorded. “Let’s say, I did ambush Fairbanks the afternoon he got killed …”

“Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically,” Deputy Stacey said.

“Hypothetically, if you were to lure him into an ambush,” Mac said, “would you have done it alone?”

“I would have had to have had help,” Deputy Stacey said. “But I would have no idea who.”

“Of course not,” Mac replied. “Would any of your accomplices, if you had any, have wanted to go further to put an end to Fairbanks’ abuse?”

“No,” Deputy Stacey said. “No one would have wanted to kill him. We didn’t think an animal like that deserved to live, but all we would have wanted to do was send a message to him that while his father may have owned the law in this town, he didn’t own every officer and we were going to take our vows to heart—we were going to protect every person in this town, even if we had to do it on our own—without the support of the sheriff and prosecutor.”

Mac worded his question carefully. “If you and your fellow officers were to have done this, how would it have gone down?”

“I imagine,” the deputy said, “Fairbanks would have had to have been lured to his mistress’s apartment. He would have been told to let himself in with a key that would have been hidden under a mat and come inside and get comfortable in bed. The shower would have been running to give him the impression that she was there. He would have been so anxious to get to her that he would have stripped down and gone in. That would have been when he would discover that it was not her in the shower, but a group of cops not on his daddy’s payroll.”

“At which point he was drenched in water and shot repeatedly in the groin area with a stun gun,” Mac said.

Careful to avoid a confession, the sheriff deputy said, “That would have been an effective payback for rape.”

“What would have kept Fairbanks from identifying the vigilantes?”

“He would have been immediately blindfolded and his hands tied around his back. He would have been restrained until it was over.”

In deep thought, Mac peered across the table at him. “Would all of you have left together?”

“Yes.”

“And Fairbanks would have been alive.”

“Madder than mad,” the deputy said, “but he would have been alive.”

“What would have kept him from taking out his anger on Portia Hager?” Mac asked.

“It would have been made very clear to him that if he ever contacted her or if so much as a hair on her head got a split end,” the deputy said, “that we would be back and it would be worse than this time around.”

“And then hours later, he ended up dead,” Mac said. “When the call came in that Fairbanks had been shot, did—would, the thought have crossed your mind that one of your—”

Deputy Stacey was shaking his head. “Yes, the thought would have crossed my mind and—if I and my fellow officers were to have avenged Portia Hager’s rape, then we would have gotten together and checked into it ourselves. I can assure you—no one on this police department killed Jason Fairbanks.”

“You’re positive about that?” Mac asked.

“Positive.” The deputy shrugged. “You know, when the legal system breaks down—or like in our case, refuses to work at all—it can get very frustrating—”

“I know,” Mac said.

“A person can only take so much before they decide to take the law into their own hands and do something about it. Ironic, ain’t it, that so many people all on the same day decided to put an end to Jason Fairbanks.”

Chapter Nineteen

“How do I look?” Jenny Fairbanks asked while checking her reflection in the mirror of her compact.

“I’m sure Ruth and Natalie will think you look wonderful,” Bogie turned around in the passenger seat of David’s cruiser to tell the older woman who was sitting in the back seat.

“Even if I didn’t, they wouldn’t tell me.” She put the compact away in her handbag. “How they must hate me for never having the nerve to stand up to Reese and Jason to protect them.”

As if to comfort her, Gnarly whined and laid his head in her lap. She stroked the top of his head and ears.

Casting a suspicious glance in Bogie’s direction, David said, “I’m sure they understand.”

He noted that two empty Spencer police cruisers were in the church parking lot. With a grin, he assumed Fletcher was inside getting lunch made up from the food leftover from the night before, while Brewster was spending time with Edna, the church office manager with the “bedroom eyes.” Ed Willingham’s rented car was parked near the main entrance.

“Are we ready?” David asked their passenger in the rear seat.

Jenny sucked in a deep breath. “As ready as I ever will be.”

Bogie slid from the passenger seat and opened the rear door. Unlike what he did for Mac, Gnarly was polite enough to wait for Jenny to climb out before jumping out of the cruiser and galloping up to the door.

Ruth and Natalie were waiting in the foyer for her. Upon seeing her grandmother, the teenaged girl burst into tears and ran into her arms. The first tear shed caused a waterfall of emotion that climaxed into a group hug.

Fearing the tears were contagious, which seemed to be evidenced by Edna and Deborah yanking tissues from a box to dab their eyes, David and Bogie moved to the other side of the fellowship hall where they spotted Ed Willingham eating a piece of chocolate cake.

“Any word from Mac?” David asked with a note of hope.

“As a matter of fact, he called a few minutes ago,” Ed said between bites of the cake. “I told him I’d call back when you got here with Jason Fairbanks’ mother. He had a few questions for her since she found the body.”

“Hey, Chief,” Fletcher called from the kitchen doorway. “You need to try some of this refrigerator salad.”

“Later,” David said.

“I just had the vegetable soup,” Ed said. “It has squash in it. That, and the fresh loaf of Italian bread, make me want to convert. My parish doesn’t feed its parishioners like this.”

“Where does Mac’s investigation stand now?” David asked. “Those cops from New York aren’t going to wait around forever.”

“As long as Mac is putting them up in his suite at the Spencer Inn, they’ll wait,” Ed said before taking the last bite of his cake.

“Even if they’re willing to wait, Ruth can’t live inside this church building indefinitely,” Bogie pointed out.

“Then let’s get this show on the road.” Ed took his cell phone from his pocket. “Deborah said we can meet in her office.”

The lawyer led David and Bogie across the fellowship hall, where they discovered that the church pastor had already ushered Ruth, Natalie, and Jenny into her office located at the end of the business wing.

As expected, through the glass door, they saw Officer Brewster leaning on the counter in front of Edna’s desk while making chit chat.

Unable to resist, David threw open the door. “Everything okay, Brewster?”

The officer jumped to his feet. “Fine, sir!”

“You do know you were assigned to keep an eye on Ruth?” David fought to keep the stern tone in his voice.

Blushing, Edna said, “I’m sorry, Chief, I called him in to help me …” Standing up, she searched her office. “… to get a catalogue that fell behind this file cabinet. It’s way back there and I can’t reach it. I think someone is going to have to move the cabinet to get it and I really need that catalogue to order office supplies.”

“And I was about to do it when you walked in, Chief.” Brewster went over and grabbed the heavy file cabinet with both hands.

“Do you need help?” David asked.

“No,” Brewster and Edna said in unison.

With a laugh, David turned around to collide into Sirrus Thorpe, who had come through the door at the same time that he was going out.

The old man’s weathered face was screwed up. “What’s going on here?” he demanded to know.

“I’ve just about got it,” Edna called out from where she was kneeling to reach behind the cabinet. “Pull it out just a little bit more, Nate.”

“You got it.” Grunting, Officer Brewster tugged on the cabinet.

“Nate? Who’s Nate?” Sirrus asked with a firm tone.

“Officer Brewster is helping Edna retrieve her office supply catalogue,” David explained.

“Maybe that’s why you haven’t found Eugene’s killer yet,” Sirrus said. “You and your officers are too busy hanging around here eating our food and sniffing around the women. Do you have any idea how heartbroken every member of our church has been since Eugene got murdered? That man was the backbone of this church and someone walked in and blew him away. Where were your officers then, Chief? Sniffing around some woman somewhere or eating donuts someplace?”

Ignoring the insult, David asked, “Have you heard from your wife, Mr. Thorpe?”

“Nope. Doubt if I will.” Sirrus jerked his head in Brewster’s direction. “So why don’t you take Nate here and go look for her?”

With a squeal of success, Edna stood up and waved the catalogue in the air. She and Officer Brewster bumped fists before clasping their hands together to thrust them into the air in a sign of victory.

“You would call me if you did?” David interrupted Sirrus’ glare to ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sirrus asked. “I despised that woman. Only reason I married her was because she lied and told me that she was pregnant. … I should have learned then to never believe a word that came out of her lying mouth.” Grumbling, he turned around and went out the door.

“You coming, O’Callaghan?” Ed Willingham came down the hallway to fetch him.

“Sure, Ed.”

When they passed the office where the chief trustee had been murdered, Ed asked over his shoulder about their progress on that case.

“We have a BOLO issued on a suspect,” David said. “So far all that we’ve dug up is an idiot.”

“At least you have a suspect,” Ed said.

“Mac doesn’t?” David asked.

“Nothing that’s panned out.” Ed paused at the office door. They could hear the women talking inside. “But they suspect the killer hid out in the neighbor’s garden while waiting for Fairbanks to be left alone—after Ruth left—before making his move.”

“Why does he think that?” Bogie asked from where he had folded his massive frame to sit in a comfy padded chair on the opposite side of the comfortable office decorated in soft lilac.

On the long sofa, Ruth and Natalie huddled on either side of Jenny, who continually dabbed at her eyes with a damp tissue while clinging to her granddaughter’s hand. Ruth clutched the elderly woman’s arm.

“Forensics had found traces of plant fertilizer at the murder scene.” Willingham pressed the button on his cell phone to call Mac.

When Mac answered on the other end, the lawyer advised him that he was putting him on speaker phone. “Jennifer Fairbanks is here, Mac. She has agreed to answer any questions you have about her son’s murder.”

“Not that I know very much,” Jenny said. “Reese and the police immediately focused on Ruth and refused to consider anyone else, even when I insisted that she would never kill Jason.”

Mac’s voice came from the speaker of Ed’s cell phone. “But you found the body and called the police. You got there shortly after four o’clock. You called nine-one-one at four-oh-four.”

“That was less than a half hour after we left,” Natalie said.

“Did you see anyone leaving the house as you arrived?” Mac asked. “Maybe you saw someone heading over toward the neighbor’s house, through her gardens.”

Jenny was shaking her head when Ruth asked, “Do you mean Mrs. Weber?”

“Yes,” Mac said. “There were traces of her special fertilizer found in footprints on the floor and on the gun.”

“Well,” Ruth said slowly, “if the killer was hiding in the garden, wouldn’t Mrs. Weber have seen him or her?”

“She told the police that she didn’t see or hear anything,” Mac said. “I’m thinking that means she was inside the house at the time of the murder.”

“That’s not true,” Natalie blurted out.

“Natalie …” Ruth warned.

“But, Mom, she heard the shots,” her daughter argued. “Don’t you remember? She came running up the driveway when you came running out of the house.” She directed her voice in the direction of Ed’s cell phone for Mac to hear. “She was not inside her house. She was outside gardening. She was wearing her gardening gloves. I saw her putting them back on when we were driving away.”

“Gardening gloves?” Mac repeated. “Are you sure?”

Natalie nodded her head. “She asked if everything was all right and if we wanted her to call the police again. Mom said it was fine and not to call the police. She told you to go, Mom. Don’t you remember? She came running up because she heard the shots. She had, too. I heard them.”

“You heard the shots?” Ed asked. “How many shots did you hear?”

“Two,” Natalie said firmly. “Not real close together like you hear in the movies. One. And then there was this awful silence and I was afraid Mom was dead. I didn’t even know she had a gun. And then the second. Then Mom came running out. I was afraid Dad would be behind her.”

“Let me get this straight,” Mac said. “You, Natalie, heard two shots. The neighbor, Mrs. Weber, came running up the driveway and asked if she should call the police, which, according to the record, she had done many times before when Fairbanks would hit you or your mother. Ruth told her that everything was fine and that she had to go. Mrs. Weber then said for you to go … Yet, after the murder, she told the police that she saw and heard nothing.”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Ed said.

“Why don’t you talk to Mrs. Weber?” Ruth asked. “If the killer was hiding in her garden—”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Weber is dead,” Mac said.

“How awful.” Ruth hung her head. “I know that if there was any way for her to help, she would have. She was a very kind lady. She knew everything that was happening. She offered more than once to testify for me in court to get Jason put away.”

“Then why did she lie, Mom?” Natalie asked. “She told the police that she saw and heard nothing and that’s a lie! Why did she lie?”

“Maybe Reese got to her,” Jenny said. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“She must have lied to protect me,” Ruth said. “She heard the shots. She must have assumed I killed Jason and said she knew nothing so that she couldn’t be made to testify against me.”

“Maybe,” Mac said in a low voice.

“Can I ask a question?” David blurted out.

“If it will help to clear things up,” Ed responded.

David crossed the office to stand over the three women huddled on the sofa. “Jenny, why did you go to see your son that afternoon?”

Jenny gazed up at the police chief. “I don’t quite remember.”

David folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t remember? You found your only son dead. Yet, you have no memory of why you went over to see him?”

Ruth and Natalie turned to look at the older woman.

“Ruth,” David asked, “did your mother-in-law have a tendency to stop in to visit very often?”

“Not really. She and Jason didn’t have a good relationship.” Ruth gazed over at Jenny. “Why did you come over? You called the police shortly after four? Jason usually worked until five o’clock. Why would you come to the house at four to see him?”

“Tell them, Jenny,” David said. “You’re safe here. Your husband is in jail and we’re all here to protect you. Tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Natalie asked.

Jenny hung her head while tears streamed down her face.

Sensing the woman needed comforting, Gnarly climbed out from under the coffee table to place his head in Jenny’s lap. She stroked the top of his head while he gazed up at her.

David told Ruth and Natalie, “She went to your house to do whatever she had to do to ensure that you two were able to get away. It was Jenny who arranged for the fake identification and gave you the money and set up this job to help you to escape from her son. She sent the gun to Ruth to protect herself against her own son.”

In shock, Ruth and Natalie stared at the woman sitting between them.

“Is that true, Jenny?” Mac’s voice came out of the phone.

“How did you figure that out, Chief?” Bogie asked.

“In the cruiser on the way over here,” David said. “In New York, they were Scarlett and Holly. That was what Jenny knew them as. But on the way here, you called them Ruth and Natalie. A natural reaction would have been for Jenny to ask, ‘Who’s Ruth and Natalie?’ But she didn’t, because she knew their new names already. She arranged for their new identities.”

“I had been saving money for years to run away,” Jenny said. “I had it all socked away. Stealing a little here and a little there. I planned so carefully how I was going to do it, too. No way was anyone ever going to find me and I was going to start a whole new life. But then, when Jason broke Holly’s arm—my only grandchild—and Reese helped him get away with it—then I knew I had to do something. The only thing I could do. But then, Scarlett ran away and took Holly with her.”

Sighing, she patted Ruth’s and Natalie’s hands. “I prayed every day that we would never find you. But then, Reese’s PI did and dragged you both back. After Jason raped his mistress and Reese helped him get away with that, too, things got worse. Jason became completely convinced that he was invincible. There was nothing that he couldn’t get away with and Reese did everything to confirm it.” She sniffed. “My son was gone—transformed into a monster. But I had a granddaughter. She still stood a chance.”

“It was you who saved us,” Ruth said with tears in her eyes.

“Yes, it was me,” Jenny said in a hushed tone. “Once I made my decision about what had to be done, I moved forward with my plan, only instead of me changing my identity and running away, it was my granddaughter and her mother. I remember I was so surprised with how easily it all came together. My church pastor arranged for the job here. He was the only one I trusted to know what I was planning to do. He had seen an advertisement in a church paper and believed that it was the answer to our prayers.”