Day of Atonement (14 page)

Why now?
That was the burning question in Troy's mind. Why, after all this time, did he kill Elana? If she had access to the gun, why didn't she shoot her abductor? There were so many aspects of this case that did not make sense.

During the service, Troy's emotions toggled between guilt and anger. Both vied equally for attention and surprisingly, Troy held
it together. He didn't exactly anticipate crying a river, but he would not have been embarrassed if he had shed a tear or two. The man in him wanted to cry, but the cop in him was on duty.

Lilly handled the service very well. She did cry, but nothing like the breakdown she'd had Saturday. While Elvin and Jeff consoled her, Troy found himself sitting in the middle of his own mother and Natalie, holding Nate, and also patting their backs as tears trickled down both of their faces. His mother he expected, but Natalie? Then again he should have known she would empathize with Lilly. Natalie could be soft-hearted, especially when it came to a parent who lost a child.

Bill eventually took the podium and Troy watched warily as he began his speech. “The family and I want to thank all of you fuh-fuh-fuhor coming out today. My sister and nephew nuh-nuh-need your prayers. W-w-w-we all do. This is a tuh-tuh-tuh-tough time for our family.” He loosened the jacket to his lime-green tux, an outfit that Troy found disturbing on so many levels. “S-s-s-s-s-s-someone else bears the re-re-re-responsibility for my niece lying in this c-c-c-casket.”

Shouts of “amen” were hurled his way from the crowd. This was the wrong thing to do if people ever wanted to go home because it only fired Bill up. He went on and on about how God was going to bring all things to “frutation,” rather “fru-fru-fru-tation,” which Troy was beginning to think was his favorite word, and how whoever dumped Elana on the side of the road off of the back of his truck like she was garbage would eventually pay.

Bill talked so much that the pastor giving the eulogy came and politely stood beside him, subtly encouraging him to wrap things up. At one point the pastor even placed his hand on top of Bill's around the mic. That was when Bill finally got the message and apologized for being “lequocious.”

“What does that mean?” Natalie leaned and whispered.

“I have no clue.” Troy was simply glad Bill was able to get the word out on the first try. Chances are, he had mispronounced it.

The rest of the service continued without a hitch. Other family members expressed much shorter words of thanks and memories of Elana. As they were proceeding out, Troy noticed that several strands of Nicole's hair had come out of place and revealed the shiny half-dollar-like bald spot in her head. Natalie must have seen it, too, because she nudged him for staring. Unlike him who didn't know the proper protocol for such a scenario, Natalie tapped Nicole on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Nicole's hand immediately shot up to her head to correct the error and then she looked back at Natalie for assurance.

Instead of following the family to the cemetery, Troy stayed behind to help set up tables at the church since this was where the family would come back for dinner. More than Bill's ridiculously long speech, or Herbert Greenfield's still not making an appearance, Troy was disturbed by the absence of Elana and Elvin's biological father. Troy did not notice Mr. Campbell wasn't there until he overheard some of Elvin's relatives who had also stayed behind talk about how odd it was for Mr. Campbell not to be there. “If she was my daughter, there is nothing that could keep me away,” one older lady said.

“I know that's right. I think it was so tacky that his wife came without him,” another woman with a gray wig that sat a little too crooked chimed in. “I heard her tell someone that Edgar was having a hard time handling this. That man probably ain't spoken to Lilly since that chile went missing and now all of a sudden, he's too broken up to come to the service. Sumthin' don't sound right to me.”

Troy would have agreed though he thought it shameful that these two ladies were sitting in their Sunday bests gossiping at a
time like this. Yet, he placed the chairs up against the banquet tables as slowly as he could, taking it all in, deciphering between information that might be useful and useless information such as how disgusted one of the women were that Mr. Campbell's wife did not wear a longer skirt.

“The chile ain't but in her early thirties and you know they say she didn't have a good upbringing,” the wig lady said in her defense. “She might not know any better. I heard she used to be a stripper.”

“Oh, I think she got more sense than you think. Ain't no way she's in love with Edgar as old as he is. I bet she married him for the insurance money and that baby they adopted last spring will ensure that she gets paid social security for a long time to come if something happens to him.”

Troy recalled the words of the autopsy report.
“…The victim has given birth some time within the last year,”
as well as B.K.'s theory,
“I'm guessing it would hard for him to see all the hearts he'd broken.”
Could it be? Could Edgar Campbell have kidnapped and impregnated his own child? Crazy things had been known to happen. There was a similar case of the Austrian man who imprisoned and fathered children with his daughter, so it wasn't a complete stretch to think the same thing couldn't have happened here.

Troy ran outside where the reception was to better send B.K. a text. They'd agreed to share any information either of them uncovered and this lead was too hot for Troy to sit on. He didn't necessarily like taking the back seat on this investigation and he was certain that B.K. would not practice full disclosure with him, but like it or not, Troy needed B.K. He had no jurisdiction or connections with law enforcement down here. If it weren't for B.K., he wouldn't have any information at all.

Troy waited a few minutes to see if there would be a response. When none came, he headed back inside. Something caught his attention right before he entered the church doors. A man was walking alongside a fence when he was scared by a barking dog. The man yelped and ran a few paces until realizing that he wasn't in danger. The man was Jerry, one of Elvin's uncles, and for those few seconds when he was running scared from the dog, he did not have a limp.

T
roy was the first one up on Christmas morning. After coming home from the service yesterday, he'd secluded himself in Tracy's bedroom yet again, searching the Internet for any tidbits of information he could find about his three primary suspects: Edgar Campbell, Herbert Greenfield, and now Jerry.

B.K. never responded to his text message about Edgar and that irritated him. Not having connections down there made investigating this situation difficult. Troy did not bother to share with him what he'd learned about Jerry. He'd wait until they got together tomorrow after the mind-searching appointment with Shauna that Troy was not looking forward to. Unfortunately, his Internet search yielded no results. Nothing but their names and addresses, which is information he could have likely gotten from Elvin. Frustrated by the lack of progress, Troy awoke this morning and slipped on some sweats to go for a run.

Troy liked jogging, though he did not get out much during the winters in Ohio. Spring and fall were when he would run the most often. The winter and summer months were when he got the most use out of his gym membership. This Christmas Day run in Texas felt good as the conditions seemed perfect. No snow to crunch through or ice to worry about slipping on, there was only
the cool breeze of the air as he struggled to keep up with his normal pace—a reminder that he had not worked out in several weeks.

Troy could not remember the last time he'd jogged around his old neighborhood. His run was interrupted briefly on two occasions when he stopped to speak with several familiar faces and offer season's greetings. In a way, it felt good to be home. He wished the circumstances were different, of course. It would be nice if parts of the last thirty-plus years could be rewritten. Elana would be living her life happily ever after instead of being buried six feet under. When she ran out of the door all those years ago, there was a peace within Troy that had left with her. Natalie would argue that he was insanely protective of her and Nate. To some extent, she might be right. Troy would not know what to do if something ever happened to either of them, especially something as malicious as had been done to Elana. He worried about his family's safety and oftentimes that anxiety ate away at his peace. He had to learn to have healthy concern without it leading to unreasonable fear before he drove both his wife and himself crazy.

It was about fifty minutes later when Troy returned to the house and found his parents in the living room playing a game with Nate. Troy fought against the residual bitterness that tried to linger toward his father. Forgiveness was definitely a process. He swallowed his negativity and greeted them all by saying “Merry Christmas” and Nate excitedly showed him what “Gigi and Grandpa” had gotten him.

“It was only
one
present,” his mom said, responding to the look he'd given her after seeing the torn wrapping paper strewn on the floor. “I told him he can't open the rest until you and Natalie were up.”

When Troy got to the room, he found Natalie dressed and on
the bed FaceTiming Corrine on her iPad. “Hey, Merry Christmas.” She greeted him with such a huge smile that he couldn't resist giving those luscious lips a warm welcome.

“Ex-
cuse
me. I really don't care to see y'all make out,” Corrine announced via video.

“Merry Christmas, Corrine. Here, I'll give you a kiss, too.” Troy puckered and put his lips on the screen.

“Ewe!” She shrieked while Natalie fussed at him for putting his mouth on her iPad.

Troy laughed as Corrine called him crazy. As expected, she was wearing a locket with Nate's baby picture inside. She never took that thing off, an indication of how strong her feelings for Nate were. Corrine's adoptive parents had other children, but Nate was her only biological sibling. Troy could imagine the depth of the bond she felt for him, and for Natalie.

Corrine was nearly the spitting image of his wife. She, too, was tall with long, dark, satin-like hair. Corrine also had big brown eyes like Natalie. The major difference between them was that Corrine had a lighter skin complexion than Natalie's honey-colored one. Though he and Corrine were nowhere near as close as she and Natalie, Troy loved her. He was actually surprised at how much he loved her, but then again, he loved Natalie so much that he could not help but deeply care about those who were important to her. Troy talked to Corrine for a few seconds about how her visit was going in Jackson. After telling her to say hi to the family for him, Troy got his things together and hopped in the shower.

Natalie was making the bed when he returned to the room. “Your phone has been blowing up.”

Immediately, Troy checked, hoping there was a message from B.K. He scrolled through the eleven text messages, not finding a
single one from the investigator. He did find three very disturbing ones.

Hi Troy. It's been a while. I miss u.

Just want 2 say Merry Christmas.

Hope u & fam r having a good time in TX.

The third one bothered him most of all. How did
she
know that they were in Texas? He hadn't spoken to her since the summer and though she would leave voice or text messages periodically, he'd never responded or returned a call. He'd hoped that ignoring her would make her go away. So far that hadn't worked. She kept popping up like a cold sore at the most inconvenient times.

“Everything okay?'

“Uh, yeah. You know how people like to send mass holiday texts,” he said, deleting the ones from her first.

“I know what you mean. Well, hurry and finish getting dressed. You know Nate is bursting out of his skin to open presents.”

“Mama already let him open one.” Since Natalie seemed to still be keeping his mom at an arm's length after the broom fiasco Saturday, Troy thought he should warn her.

“Why am I not surprised?” she said before leaving the room, rolling her eyes.

•  •  •

Christmas morning went perfectly without any hitches. Troy, his family, and his parents opened their presents for each other while setting aside the ones for Tracy, Al and the kids for later. Of course, Nate was the center of attention. Whatever attitude Natalie had had earlier about his mom, she had gotten past it by the time Troy made his way back to the living room. The joy on her face as she watched Nate “ooh and ahh” about his things was priceless. She FaceTimed Corrine again and also Aneetra, so they
could both talk to Nate and at least see him open the things that they had bought for him.

By this time next year, Troy and Natalie would have two additional little ones to the mix and he looked forward to it. This would make the second year in a row that they had traveled to Texas for Christmas. Next year, they would be at home. Everyone would be welcome to join them and by “everyone,” Troy was not yet sure if he would include his father. Things had been cordial between them since their talk yesterday, but a father-son relationship was still unchartered territory. Troy had to be certain that this change in his father was real. Time would tell.

After opening presents, Troy grabbed a bowl of cereal and a banana. Apparently, the others had gotten something to eat before he had come down. His mom did not make a big to-do about breakfast this morning like she had done Saturday, which was not surprising. Christmas dinner would be the extravaganza and that wasn't taking place until Tracy got there, which, from what he was told, would be around 3:00.

The rest of Christmas morning went much faster than Troy had anticipated. His wife and mother spent most of their time in the kitchen putting finishing touches on things and he forced himself to stay in the living room with his father while Nate played with his toys. Troy would like to have been working on Elana's case, but with no leads and no communication from B.K., his efforts were useless at this point.