Ever Present Danger (34 page)

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Authors: Kathy Herman

Tags: #Murder, #Christian, #Single mothers, #General, #Witnesses, #Suspense, #Religious fiction, #Fiction, #Religious

BOOK: Ever Present Danger
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The kettledrum in her chest started pounding again. Bill had been adamant that he never left the dance except to go to the men’s room. Why didn’t he just say he had gone out to the car to change his shoes? It was no big deal—or was it?
Ivy got up and jogged down the steps to the kitchen, glad that
no one else was in there. She stuck the photo in her purse, then picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello.”
“Bill, it’s me.”
“What took you so long to call me back?”
“I had a lot to do. Listen, why don’t you pick me up at eight o’clock? I agree we need to talk.”
Brandon Jones sat in Jake Compton’s office, wishing he were home eating dinner and feeling a bit like a schoolboy in trouble with the principal.
“Frankly,” Brandon said, “I resent having to justify what I do on my own time to you or anybody else.”
Jake folded his hands on his desk. “I didn’t ask about it to make you defensive. Suzanne and I ran into Kelsey at church and wondered where you were. She told us you went rafting with Buzz and some of his friends.”
“So?”
“Just seemed odd that you went on Sunday morning instead of Saturday.”
“Buzz wasn’t free on Saturday. Look, Jake, I don’t mean to be rude, but what I do in my personal time is my business. I’m not doing anything that reflects poorly on the camp.”
Jake looked out the window. “Did you ever tell Kelsey about the pornography Buzz sent you on your computer?”
“I already told you I didn’t. I couldn’t see the advantage in making her dislike Buzz any more than she already does.”
“There’s safety in being accountable to her.”
Brandon sighed. “Why don’t you let me decide who to be accountable to, okay? I know you mean well, but I can handle myself just fine.”
There was an extended pause, and the lines on Jake’s forehead deepened. “The few times you’ve been with Buzz, has he ever made an unscheduled stop at someone’s house?” Jake looked up, his gaze holding Brandon’s.
“He stopped at a condo once. I waited in the car. Why?”
“Did he tell you why he was there?”
“He said he had to take care of some business.”
Jake took off his glasses and laid them on the desk. “And what did he tell you when he came back out?”
“Nothing.” The lie pricked Brandon’s conscience.
“And you didn’t ask what took him so long?”
“I never said he was gone long. Jake, what are you driving at? What’s with all the mystery?”
Jake started to answer and then appeared to change his mind. Finally he said, “Just don’t go in, okay?”
“What?”
“No matter what, don’t go in.”
“I’ve had about all the innuendos I can handle regarding Buzz. Either tell me outright what your problem with him is, or drop it!”
“I’ve already said too much. Just keep up your guard. Buzz’s sense of right and wrong differs from ours, and he can’t be trusted.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.” Jake’s face turned a bright shade of pink. “Just remember it’s easier to get sucked into the darkness than to walk in the light. And that if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
Brandon got up and walked out of Jake’s office, feeling the way he used to when his father acted as if he didn’t have good sense. What right did Jake have to instruct him on private matters? And what was it that had him so concerned that he was willing to risk antagonizing Brandon to make his point?
“Bill’s here.” Ivy poked her head in the living room where her parents were seated on the couch watching TV. “Montana should be down for the night, but I won’t be late. I have to go to work in the morning.”
“We’ll leave the porch light on,” Carolyn Griffith said.
“Isn’t Bill coming to the door to get you?” Elam said.
“Not this time. I’ll see you later.”
Ivy went out the door before they could ask her any more questions. She skipped down the steps and opened the door to Bill’s van and climbed in the passenger seat. She didn’t say a word until Bill stopped at the bottom of the long driveway and turned onto Three Peaks Road.
“I need to be home in an hour,” Ivy said.
“Okay, let’s go someplace quiet where we can eyeball each other.”
“How about Grinder’s?”
Bill shook his head. “Too public. How about the church?”
“It’s not open this time of night.”
“I have the key. I clean the place, remember? There won’t be anybody there.”
“All right.” Ivy looked out the window, trying to think of how she could make Bill understand that she didn’t want to see him again—ever.
“Where are you?” he said. “You seem a hundred miles away.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Just don’t overreact to Lieutenant Bubble Gum. Remember the sheriff and the feds can’t prove we conspired to kill the guys when we didn’t.”
Bill drove past the cemetery and pulled into the church parking lot.
Ivy looked out at the headstones, her heart suddenly aching. “I’m going to walk down to Lu’s grave for a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
“No, I’d rather go alone.”
“Whatever. I’ll open the church and wait for you in the sanctuary.”
Ivy hopped out of the van. Off to the west, the last vestiges of daylight looked like a pale pink canvas stretched behind the jagged peaks.
She ambled across the churchyard, past the wrought iron gate, and into the cemetery. She walked beyond the marble angel that
kept watch over baby Amy and went to the back row, surprised that the cross headstone was already in place at Lu’s grave. She stood in front of it, ashamed that she hadn’t been out there even once since the burial.
The cross was polished white stone that bore a simple statement of faith, just the way Lu wanted it:
LUCIA GUADALUPE MARIA RAMIREZ
Born January 5, 1937—Died April 14, 2007
Forever at Peace with Her Lord
Ivy’s eyes burned and then clouded over. “I miss you so much, Lu. Are you happy? Do you even know what’s going on down here? I wish you could tell me what to do. You always seemed to know what’s right.” Ivy wiped the tears off her face. “Montana’s doing well in school, and he and Dad are finally hitting it off. I guess you know Pete, Reg, and Denny are dead now, and that I don’t know
what
I should do about telling the sheriff—”
“What you should do is
not
tell him.”
Ivy jumped, her hand over her heart, then looked up and saw Bill standing there. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry.”
“I wanted a few minutes alone with Lu.”
“Yeah, well, I promised your dad I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“Come on, we both know Mr. Hadley isn’t out to get me.” Ivy watched to see if he reacted to her comment, but he didn’t.
“A promise is a promise. You done here?”
Ivy bit her lip. “I guess I am. Though that wasn’t exactly my idea of a few moments alone with Lu.”
“I brought you out here to talk. We’ve only got an hour.”
34
SHERIFF FLINT CARTER hung up the phone and glanced at his watch, thinking he should be home tucking Ian into bed for the night instead of spending every waking moment on this case.
He walked over to the table in his office where Special Agent Nick Sanchez sat eating the last slice of sausage pizza and looking through a stack of files.
“Is your wife understanding when you have to be away on a case?” Flint said.
Nick glanced up at him. “Not always, especially when I’m not there to see my son’s soccer games. Or attend my daughter’s dance recitals. But she knows what I do is important. Somebody’s got to do it. Why not me? I’ve certainly got the temperament for it.”
“Do any of the cases keep you up at night?”
Nick smirked. “My wife says I turn into an owl when I’m working the tough cases—kidnappings, serial killings, drug busts. I learned to detach myself from the victims a long time ago, but my mind almost always goes into overtime when I’m getting close to nailing the perp. I take it your wife isn’t thrilled you’re working late again?”
Flint sat at the table and sighed. “Betty’s about had it with my obsession over the Joe Hadley case all these years. And this case gets more complex by the minute. We’ve torn the Ungers’ personal lives apart, and there’s just nothing that points to this guy being
capable of killing Pete for messing with his wife—much less killing two innocent guys. I know you think this case and the Hadley case are related somehow, but I just don’t see it.”
“I think you’re about to.” Nick seemed to be mulling something over. Finally, he looked up from the file, his eyebrow arched, that unmistakable
aha
expression on his face. “Remind me when the coroner confirmed that the bones found at that construction site were Joe Hadley’s.”
“Let me look.” Flint went over to his computer and pulled up the date. “April 4.”
“And the three lodge victims were shot on April 23, just nineteen days later.”
“Yeah. Where are you going with this, Nick?”
“I know Barton, Morrison, and Richards were on the basketball team with Hadley. But I’m wondering if they have an alibi for the afternoon he went missing?”
“They were with Ivy Griffith down at Louie’s Drive-in.”
Nick popped the last bite of pizza into his mouth, then leaned back in his chair, his hands folded across his chest. “Any eyewitnesses that confirm they were there?”
“No. But the four of them vouched for each other when we reopened the case as a murder investigation last month.”
“What about immediately after Hadley disappeared?”
“Back then we questioned each of the players on the basketball team, but had no reason to single out any of them as suspects. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we’ve been looking for one perp who looks good for all four murders. But what if Barton, Morrison, and Richards murdered Joe Hadley and buried him out on that ranch? Could explain why somebody went after
them
.”
Flint stared at Nick, the implications screaming like a siren in his mind. “I never even considered it. What would be their motive for killing Joe? As far as we could tell, those guys didn’t have a conflict with him. Besides, Ivy said she was with them the afternoon Joe disappeared.”
“So?”
“She’s not a murderer, Nick.”
Nick flashed a phony smile. “Did you ever ask her?”
“No, but—”
“Maybe it’s time we did.”
Flint took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, his mind racing faster than his pulse. “But even if Barton, Morrison, and Richards did kill Hadley, which I’m not ready to seriously consider, then who shot them? And if Ivy was in on Hadley’s killing, why wasn’t she shot, too?”
Ivy Griffith sat in the back row of Woodlands Community Church, her eyes focused on the stained glass that had no beauty without the light shining through it. She thought that’s how God must see her, too. How many times had she sat in this church as a young believer, unable to pray and consumed with guilt because she was sleeping with Pete and experimenting with drugs? She let her eyes wander around the quaint old church. Except for the banners hanging behind the pulpit, nothing had changed. Including the darkness she concealed in her heart.
“Okay, the door’s locked.” Bill said. “Nobody’s gonna walk in on us.”
Ivy thought Bill’s face looked hard as stone. “Are you mad?”
“No, I’m concerned you’re gettin’ freaked with all the questions the authorities are askin’.”
“Of course I’m freaked. They’re implying that I hired you to kill Pete.”
Bill smirked. “Which they can’t prove because it’s not true. So why are you worried?”
“I don’t want my family subjected to this! Everybody knows my parents, and I’ve already shamed them once. I don’t want to do it again.”
“How can you shame them if you’re innocent?”
“But I’m not innocent in
Joe’s
death. And I’m tired of living in fear. It almost seems easier just to tell the truth and get it over with.”
Bill sat next to her, closer than she would have liked. “Which is why you need me to talk some sense into you. Nothin’ is gonna be easier if you go public about Joe’s death. All you’re gonna get out of it is jail time.”
“For a while. But I’ll have peace of mind.”
“You really think you’re gonna find peace in the slammer? You’re gonna worry about your kid the whole time. You’re gonna miss watchin’ him grow up. Then when you get out, no one will hire you. It’ll be too late to find a husband and have a family. You’ll be doomed to a life of misery—and for what? Mr. Hadley already got justice for Joe’s death. And the feds can’t find any evidence to charge you with the shooting because you had nothin’ to do with it.”
Ivy sat quietly, thinking Bill was in a bad mood and this wasn’t the right time to confront him with the photograph. Then again, she didn’t want to see him again.
“Mrs. Barton gave me some pictures that somebody took at the reunion. She doesn’t want them and said I should either keep them or throw them out. There was one of you and me dancing, and I brought it with me.” Ivy reached in her purse and took out the photo and handed it to him.
Bill’s stony expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching. “This was one of the greatest moments of my life. Notice how relaxed you seem in my arms—just the way I always imagined.”
“That’s a really great-looking leather jacket,” Ivy said. “I thought so the minute we ran into each other at the elevator.”
“Thanks. I spent a lot of time decidin’ what to wear. I almost chickened out and didn’t come. But I couldn’t stay home, knowin’ you’d be there.”
Ivy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her heart pounding. “What happened to those cool brown loafers you were wearing?”

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