In The Bleak Midwinter: A Special Agent Constance Mandalay Novel (27 page)

“No problem at all. Stay warm out there.”

“I’m definitely trying.” Constance reached up
and began tugging at her scarf in order to pull it back around her
face. She was just hooking it over the bridge of her nose when she
furrowed her brow and pulled the fabric back down. “You know, there
might be one other thing you can help me with…”

“Pastor Reese?” Clovis replied.

Constance froze for a second and cocked a
questioning eyebrow, but her brain was already doing the math.
“Ahh… That was Stella on the phone when I walked in…”

Clovis nodded.

“That was quick, but then I suppose I
shouldn’t be all that surprised,” Constance said.

“She saw you walking over here and wanted to
make sure we knew what had happened in case you were going to file
a complaint.”

“Well… An official complaint really wasn’t my
plan. If it was I would have arrested him myself.

“I actually told her that.”

Constance canted her head to the side.
“Although, it might bear mentioning that he
did
voluntarily
confess to stalking me.”

Clovis gave her another nod. “I’m sure. If
it’s any consolation, it’s not the first time. He followed all of
the other FBI agents too.”

“Really…” Constance allowed her voice to
trail off as her brow dipped and creased of its own volition. Here
was yet another thing that hadn’t been mentioned in the official
case file. “Were there any altercations?”

“None that I’m aware of,” she replied. “I
know that he did speak to each of them, but that was about it as
far as I know. From what Stella said he was quite a bit more wound
up with you. Sort of pushy.”

“Just a bit…” Constance said with a nod.
“Maybe he didn’t perceive me as intimidating since I’m female, so
he thought he could get away with it.”

“I suppose that could be,” Clovis replied,
pausing for a moment before adding, “Honestly, he’s harmless. He’s
just addled in the head. Has been for years. He goes off his
medication now and then, but he’s never hurt or threatened
anyone.”

“I see…” Constance cocked her head to the
side as she digested the new information. “So what’s the problem?
Some sort of dementia?”

“Seems like it. Nobody’s really sure. One day
he just snapped, more or less. He spent some time in the hospital
over in Mais…” she shrugged. “Poor man. He never recovered from it.
His wife couldn’t take it. She tried for a while, but she finally
divorced him and moved away.”

“Does he have anyone to take care of
him?”

“Us,” Clovis returned, making a small sweep
with her hand. “That’s the other reason Stella called. To let us
know he’s probably skipped some pills again.”

“One of the many hidden advantages of living
in a small town, I suppose,” Constance mused.

“We do try to look out for one another,”
Clovis agreed. “We’ll probably send Mel over to his house to check
on him like usual. She seems to have a way with him when he’s off
his medication.”

“That’s good… So…what else can you tell me
about him? Stella said he’s not even a real minister.”

“She’s right, he’s not…” She paused and gave
a halfhearted shrug. “Well, not that we know of, anyway. He’s lived
here all his life and nobody in Hulis has any recollection of him
even going to church, much less becoming an ordained minister of
any sort.”

“Well, he’s apparently spent some time
studying the Bible,” Constance offered. “He was quoting verses to
me.”

Clovis nodded. “Let me guess, they all had to
do with Satan.”

“Yes. They did. I suppose that’s not unique,
then.”

“Not really. That’s what he does. When he’s
been off his pills for a while, he gets convinced that everyone
here is possessed by the devil himself.”

“Any idea why?”

“Don’t know. Like I said, he’s addled. He has
been for years now.”

“Well, thanks for filling me in; I appreciate
it.”

“No problem, Agent Mandalay. Thank you for
being so understanding about this. I really don’t think he’ll be
bothering you again.”

The wind was at Constance’s back during her
return walk to the Greenleaf Motel. However, that didn’t keep it
from stinging the exposed portions of her cheeks, because she
couldn’t stop casting a wary eye over her shoulder.

Something about Clovis’s explanation
regarding Pastor Reese wasn’t sitting well with her. She didn’t
think the woman was necessarily lying about anything she had said,
but something down in her gut was telling her that there was more
to the story.

The truth was, it seemed like everyone in
this town was hiding something. Except maybe for Merrie Callahan,
but at the moment—for reasons Constance didn’t even want to
imagine—she wasn’t talking either.

C
HAPTER
20

10:06 A.M. – December 24, 2010

Greenleaf Motel

Hulis Township – Northern Missouri

“MMNNMM
…Yemm…Thizizstrrmmm…” The
mumbled mish-mash of syllables issuing from the cell phone sounded
like the owner of the voice was still firmly attached to his
pillow. As it happened, there was a very good reason for that.

He was.

Constance felt a rush of envy well up in her
chest as Ben’s barely intelligible greeting flowed into her
ear.

She wanted sleep.

She desperately needed sleep.

But here he was getting the sleep instead of
her, and illogical as she knew it was, that just made her
resentment grow. The monster’s eyes turned from green to red as the
jealousy began to quickly morph through dangerous phases. An
instant later it had become a quick burst of anger that escaped the
bonds of discretion.

“Dammit, it’s already after ten,” Constance
barked into her cell phone. Playful was definitely not an accurate
description of her tone. “Get your ass out of bed!”

“Whoa…” Ben grumbled in return, his voice
sounding far more alert this time. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you
too…”

Constance emptied her lungs with a violent
exhale, then sat down hard on the corner of her ravaged motel bed.
It didn’t give much, so she groaned as the unexpected thud sent a
dull ache shooting up her spine and radiating out through the
muscles of her back. Pitching slowly forward at the waist, she
rested her free elbow on her knee then dropped her forehead into
her palm. Taking in a deep breath, she started gently massaging her
temples with her thumb and fingers.

“You okay?” Ben’s concerned voice rolled out
of the cell phone speaker after a lengthy pause.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.
You didn’t deserve that.”

He was definitely awake now. “I forgive ya’.
I’m sure I prob’ly deserved it for somethin’ else. Sure you’re
okay? I was sorta expectin’ ta’ hear from ya’ last night.”

“Yeah, sorry about that too. I got a little
sidetracked.”

“I can relate. Been there… So…who pissed in
your cornflakes this mornin’? Besides me, I mean.”

“Actually, I had to start a list,” she
replied. “Unfortunately, I also had to put myself at the top of
it.”

“Ouch. Been there too. I hate when that
happens.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Me too.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Yes… No…” she stammered. “I just don’t
really know…”

“Okay… That’s a start I guess,” he said. “You
sleep okay? You sound like crap on a stick.”

“Thanks.” Her reply was liberally frosted
with sarcasm.

“Just bein’ honest.”

“Yeah, I know…” she said. “Truth is, not
really. I got some, but not nearly enough.”

“Guess that’d explain the nasty ‘tude,
huh?”

“Don’t press your luck, buddy. I’m not over
being jealous that you were still in bed when I called.”

“Yeah… My bad. I shoulda known better’n ta’
sleep,” he fired back a sardonic volley of his own.

“Touché.”

“All right, so you ain’t sleepin’. Are ya’ at
least eatin’ okay?”

Constance pulled the phone away from her ear
and made a face at it. Then she tucked it back up beneath her hair
and said, “What are you this morning? My mother?”

“Well, technically speakin’, I’m damn near
old enough to be your dad.”

“Not a good visual, dear. Especially not if
you ever want sex again,” she groaned.

“Noted,” he replied.

“But to answer your question, I just had
pancakes and eggs.”

“Pancakes
and
eggs, at the same meal?
You? When’s the last time you ate?”

“I just told you.”

“You know what I mean.” He didn’t sound
amused.

“It’s not important.”

“Dammit, Constance…” he grumbled. “For
someone who’s so friggin’ health conscious you sure have problems
takin’ care of yourself.”

“Not always… Can we change the subject
please?”

“Yeah… Whatever… So since you’re on the
phone, I gotta assume you’re still stuck in Whoville?”

“Hulis.”

“Yeah, there.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Didn’t you say that’s about four hours north
or somethin’ like that?”

“Give or take.”

“Well, I’m off today,” he said, an audible
shrug in his voice. “Want me ta’ drive up? Betchya’ I could make it
in three. Maybe two’n-uh half if you tell me you’re wearin’
somethin’ sexy.”

“Dammit, I’m working a case here, Ben!” she
snapped, then sighed a quiet, “I’m sorry… Again…”

He huffed out a breath and grunted. “You
don’t just need sleep, hon. Ya’ sound like you could use a few
rounds with a punchin’ bag.”

She snorted. “Are you offering?”

“Pretty sure I just did.”

“Yeah, I guess you did, didn’t you…”

Constance slid her hand up through her hair
and scratched the back of her scalp absently. She grimaced and
pulled away when her fingers ventured too close to the residual
soreness from her incident with the desk.

She could hear an occasional clunk or rustle
at the other end of the line, which meant Ben was now out of bed
and moving around. A few moments later he started mumbling curses,
vocally naming the coffee pot as the object of his current
disdain.

After countless heartbeats with nothing being
said, Ben spoke up. “Talk ta’ me, Constance. What’s goin’ on?”

He opened the door and all she had to do was
step through. For all his faults in the relationship department,
Ben still had his moments. Of course, listening wasn’t always one
of them, unless you caught him at just the right time or you were
talking about a case. It didn’t take ESP for him to figure out the
latter was why she had called.

She sucked in a deep breath and thought about
unloading on him. All of it—the house, the voice, the dream,
Merrie—everything she could think of that was bothering her. But
she didn’t really believe that would do either of them any good. In
fact, it would probably be worse, because in the end she’d still
have all the problems, and he would be worrying. Besides, she
actually had a specific reason for making this call, so she needed
to stay focused on that.

“I need a favor,” she said. “Three,
actually.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“First, I want you to run a background check
on someone for me. His name is Ed Reese.”

“Hang on,” he grunted. “Lemme get somethin’
ta’ write with…” After a bit of rustling he mumbled, “Ed… Reese…
Okay, got it. Any other info you can give me on ‘im?”

“Not much,” she replied. “He goes by Pastor
Ed Reese, but nobody in town recalls him ever becoming
ordained.”

“Hell, you can do it online these days,” he
grunted.

“True,” she agreed. “He’s apparently lived in
Hulis his whole life…”

“Hugh Liss… Spell it.”

“H-U-L-I-S.”

“Got it.”

“He looks to be in his mid to late sixties.
About five-ten to six foot, one-seventy to one-eighty… Hair is
mostly gray with some dark brown in it. Brown eyes. Wears glasses.
No real distinguishing marks to speak of, that were visible
anyway.”

There was a pause while he made notes.
Finally he said, “Okay, got that…”

“I managed to find out that he’s divorced,
and at some point in his adult life he had some sort of severe
mental breakdown. This was several years ago; not sure how long
though. He supposedly spent some time in the hospital; also not
sure of a timeframe on that either. He’s supposedly still on psych
meds, so apparently he’s still under a doctor’s care.”

Ben sighed. “Yeah, well all that’s gonna be
hidin’ behind HIPAA unless there’s a damn good reason to know and a
really specific warrant.”

“I know.”

“Just for drill, got any idea which hospital?
I mean, ya’ just never know who might be stupid enough ta’
talk.”

“Yeah, exactly. Well, all I know is that it
was in Mais, Missouri. That’s M-A-I-S. It’s bigger than Hulis, but
it’s not a huge city, so I doubt there are more than a couple of
hospitals there.”

“Okay… Anything else?”

“Yeah, he drives an older model, black Crown
Vic. Plate was obscured and I only caught a quick glimpse of it,
but it was a Missouri tag, and I’m pretty sure it started with a
G.” Without pause she began thinking aloud. “As to a year, let me
see… The rear plate mount wasn’t up on the trunk, so it was
pre-ninety-five… But the body style was definitely rounded, so it’s
at least a ninety-two. Come to think of it, it also had a front
grille, so I’d have to say ninety-three or four. That should at
least help narrow it down some.”

“Showoff…” Ben muttered.

She ignored the gibe and added, “Of course, I
don’t know for sure if it’s registered to him or someone else. My
guess would be him though.”

“That it?”

“Afraid so.”

“No prob; it’s more than I’d get from someone
on the street… Okay… So what’s the story? You think maybe this
guy’s good for the murders?”

She shook her head out of reflex. “I have no
idea. He contacted me this morning and said he had information
about the case, but never got around to actually telling me. He
sort of freaked out, recited some Bible verses, then took off.”