Rite of Wrongs (23 page)

F
IFTY

Tuesday, 6:15 p.m.

Wait a minute, Augie mused, taking in Miriam’s confusion and Melvin’s obvious shock. The two exchanged a look that wasn’t hard to interpret: What had they missed, and where?

Augie was wondering the same. Hadn’t Edward told them that he
hadn’t
kept in touch with his foster siblings? That he
couldn’t
recall the fosters’ last names, or Carolyn being called anything but Corky?

He looked at Carolyn, working his way back through the conversation. “When was this?”

“His e-mail?” she asked, and when he nodded, she said, “While we were in London, before we left for our vacation to the Highlands.” Her tone and her words were matter-of-fact, as if her meaning should’ve been obvious.

“Hold on,” Miriam said, having finally been jolted back. “You’re saying Edward e-mailed you sometime during the last month?” When Carolyn nodded, Miriam pounced. “But you just said you weren’t in touch.”

“No.” Augie stepped in then, having realized the misstep in communication. “She said they weren’t close. One doesn’t preclude the other.”

“Shit.” Miriam bit off the word and got to her feet, pushing her way from the pew into the aisle, where she started to pace. “I knew that son of a bitch was lying. Goddamn, I knew it.”

“Miriam.” Augie snapped out the word. He understood her frustration, her anger, but this wasn’t the time, and this certainly wasn’t the place. “Edward can wait. Let’s finish up with the Prestons so they can get home.”

She moved several pews away, muttering to herself as she waved at him and Melvin to continue.

Frowning, Melvin came closer, rubbing at his chin as he spoke to Darius. “You said you all went your separate ways after high school. But your wife is saying the five of you remained close, and the six of you stayed in touch. You want to break that down for me? So all of us here are on the same page?”

Carolyn laid a hand on her husband’s thigh before he could answer. “We did go our separate ways, Detective,” she said. “Franklin went to school in Austin. Darius and I in College Station. Gina got a job at Starbucks, and that’s where she met Jeff. She’s actually the only one of us who didn’t go to college, but being the oldest, she had a lot on her plate making sure we got out okay.”

“Out,” Augie said, wanting to be clear. “You’re talking about from the Lacey home.” She gave a nod, and he asked, “And Autumn?”

“She stayed in Houston and went to U of H, then South Texas College of Law. None of us were ever in the same place at the same time. Except for Darius and me. Though, eventually, we all migrated back. But we called. And we wrote. Sent cards. Eventually e-mails and texts.”

“What about Edward?” Augie asked.

Carolyn looked at Darius. He snorted as he sat back, draping an arm across the pew behind his wife. “We only kept in touch with him to make sure his mother never took in another foster child.”

Augie looked up; across the aisle, Sergeant Vince stood, shaking his head as if he didn’t want to know what the five had gone through that would have them making such a pact.

Augie was thinking the same, though probably for different reasons. This was Miriam’s ballpark, Melvin’s at bat. Augie was no longer in the game.

One hand at his waist, Melvin rubbed at his jaw with his other. “You thought you could stop that from happening?”

The couple shared a curious look. Darius was the first to nod. “Yeah. We did.”

“All of you. The five.” Melvin waved a finger back and forth. “Not just you two.”

“Yes,” Carolyn said without a bit of hesitation.

That meant they had something on Dorothy, Augie realized, watching Melvin and Miriam exchange a glance that said they were thinking the same.

Miriam walked back then. “Do you still have the e-mail from Edward?”

Carolyn nodded, pulling her phone from her purse and accessing her in-box. “It’s here.”

Miriam took it from her hand. Augie and Melvin read over her shoulder:

I need to talk to you both. Call me.

“But you didn’t call him,” Miriam said, returning the device. “And he didn’t know where you were.”

“He didn’t, no. He had no reason to.” Carolyn shrugged. “I assumed the message was about his mother. We never e-mailed about anything else. I had planned to get in touch once we got back, since I couldn’t do anything from London, and I wasn’t about to change our vacation plans. We’d been working too hard and needed to unplug.” She looked from Miriam to Melvin to Augie and back, her face drawn, nearly skeletal, her eyes sunken. “Now I’m wondering if I should respond.”

The group grew quiet, the walls creaking around them as the temperature shifted and the air conditioner kicked on. It brought the scent of roses and lilies closer. The sweetness was almost overwhelming and out of place, when Augie usually found it comforting.

Usually, he wasn’t talking about serial murders.

And certainly never in the Lord’s house.

Melvin was the one to break the silence. “When you say you were going to keep Dorothy from taking in more fosters, what do you mean? How were you going to do that?”

Carolyn exhaled loudly, unscrewing the top off her water bottle and taking a drink. “Gina was the one who saw what happened.”

Finally. After all this time . . .
Augie glanced at Miriam. She stood so still, waiting for Carolyn to speak, it was impossible even to see her breathe. Her hands were in her jacket pockets. He knew without a doubt she’d curled them into fists.

Her lips were parted, and she was doing everything she could not to scream. She pulsed with energy. She was a spring waiting for the snap of release. The same way she’d waited for release during sex.

He closed his eyes at the thought, rolling the tension from his neck.

Dear Lord, I come to you, your humble servant, begging forgiveness for wanting that to which I have no right. For giving into my physical desires, instead of turning to you for my spiritual needs. In the name of your son, through whom I do all things. Amen.

“What do you mean, what happened?”

At Miriam’s question, Carolyn dropped her gaze to her lap, almost as if she were afraid to answer. It was Darius who finally did. “We were kids. We didn’t have family of any sort to turn to for help. All we had was Dorothy. Which meant we had no one.”

“What sort of help did you need?” Melvin asked, and Darius shook his head, a brittle laugh escaping.

“What sort of help didn’t we need? We’d been pulled out of the frying pan and thrown into the flames. I’m actually surprised none of us are behind bars. Or dead,” he added, then laughed at the realization of what he’d said.

Augie crossed his arms. He was trying to remain a bystander but had to ask, “You’re saying it was a bad situation?”

“Define
bad
.” Darius left his answer at that.

“We talked to your caseworker,” Miriam told him. “Mr. Curry. He spoke of Dorothy as if she were a saint.”

“Of course he did. Jesus. She took five of his worst charges off his hands.” Darius dropped his head back on his shoulders. “I don’t think he once came into the house when he did his home visits.”

“He told us he spoke to all of you,” Melvin said.

“On the porch maybe. In the yard.” Husband and wife shared a glance. “I think I saw him in the kitchen once.”

Melvin again: “And you and Carolyn were the youngest of the five?”

Both nodded, then Carolyn said, “And younger than her boys, too.”

“Tell me about her boys. Edward and Gordon,” Miriam said, looking briefly at Melvin, then at Augie.

There was a key here, somewhere; they knew it. One she needed to find and turn so the lock would tumble into place. He crossed his arms to watch her work.

“They were normal boys,” Carolyn said. “Edward was lazy, which made him look stupid, when the opposite was true. He was smart enough to get out of doing chores. Smart enough, really, to get out of anything. Especially trouble. I can’t remember how many times Gordon got blamed for something Edward did.”

“Did Dorothy play favorites with them?” Melvin asked.

Carolyn nodded. “Gordon was her favorite, for sure, but a lot of that was her looking out for him because he couldn’t look out for himself. Not all the time, anyway. I mean, he got himself dressed and to school. Fixed his own bowl of cereal. But he never could figure out money. He got taken advantage of a lot because of that.”

Miriam paced from the pew where Vince still stood, across the aisle and back, then asked, “What was the Laceys’ marriage like?”

Darius watched his wife twine her fingers together until her knuckles threatened to pop through the skin. Then he shrugged and said, “Like most, I guess. Ups and downs—”

“No, Darius.” It was Carolyn shaking her head. “This isn’t right. We have to tell them,” she said, reaching for and squeezing her husband’s hand.

Augie’s pulse jumped at that. He looked at Miriam just as she moved forward, a raptor, claws out, intent on her prey. “Tell us what?” she asked.

“We can’t,” Darius said to his wife. “We promised Gina—”

“Gina’s dead. Frank. Autumn.” Carolyn’s whole body began to tremble. “One of us could be next. It’s not worth it—”

“We can’t,” he repeated, and this time he jumped to his feet. He held his wife’s gaze, even as more tears formed in her eyes and fell. “We say nothing. Do you hear me? Not another word.”

Darius turned to Augie, then looked at Melvin and Miriam in turn. “We’re not saying anything more without consulting our attorney.”

F
IFTY
-O
NE

Tuesday, 10:00 p.m.

After Darius had shut down his wife’s revelation, the group at Saint Mark’s had dispersed. Miriam and Melvin had returned to the station to hash out what they’d learned. Augie had invited himself along to brainstorm, and at this point, she wasn’t turning down help from any corner.

Vince had driven the Prestons home. He’d be staying until the officer assigned as protective detail arrived. Miriam was just frustrated enough to wish she’d thought to use the protection as a bargaining chip.

What had Darius stopped Carolyn from revealing about Gina Gardner?

Melvin and Judah had left an hour ago. Ballard had stayed another thirty minutes. Miriam really wasn’t sure why she was still here. Going over her photos and case notes one more time wasn’t telling her more than she already knew.

Problem was, she still didn’t know enough. She was missing a piece of the picture. Namely: which of her suspects was the guilty one. Unless it was someone she hadn’t even considered . . .

“You ready to go yet?”

“Crap, Augie.” She blew out a breath, rubbed at her forehead. “I forgot you were here.”

He stood in the aisle between her desk and Melvin’s, looking a lot less exhausted than she felt. She didn’t want to know what she looked like. She did not wear stress well at all. Her skin got all splotchy. Her eyes red-veined.

He gestured toward the door. “I can call a cab.”

“No. I’ll take you,” she said, closing out the browser windows and programs she had open, then shutting down her machine. “I need to go home. I don’t know what I’m still doing here except chasing my tail.”

Leaning a forearm overhead on her cubicle wall, he gave her a hint of a grin. “You’re wondering what in the world the Prestons know that they don’t want to tell you.”

“Well, yeah.” She stuffed her notebook into her crossbody, doing her best to ignore the fit of his shirt over his biceps and across his chest. His collar should have made it easy.

It should have, but it didn’t. “I mean, they’re very clearly in danger. What could possibly be worth keeping from us that they’d gamble with their lives?”

“Now that they know some of what’s been going on, they can take precautions. Whereas if they told you what they don’t want you to know . . .” He stopped, obviously to let her stew.

His dark hair fell over his forehead. He reached up with both hands and raked it back. He needed a haircut. He needed a shave.

He needed to get out of her head.

She dug for the keys to her Juke, then stood. “You think it’s something illegal, then? What Gina saw? Something they could go to prison for as accessories?”

“It’s something they promised Gina. That’s all I know.”

He was no help. “I keep coming back to the money. I really want to talk to Dorothy again. See if maybe she knows something about it.” And then she remembered he’d only been looking at the files. Meeting the Prestons tonight was his first face-to-face. “You want to come with and meet our infamous matriarch? Oh, wait. Tomorrow’s Wednesday. Church and all that.”

“Let me see what my schedule looks like in the morning. If I can get away, I’ll meet you there. Text me the time?”

She nodded, made one last check of her desk, then headed for the door.

Augie didn’t speak again till they’d reached her Juke. “I wondered if you’d given that up. The tail chasing.”

“Hardly,” she said, buckling in and starting the engine. “It’s just a stretching exercise. And you know how I feel about stretching.”

F
IFTY
-T
WO

Wednesday, 9:00 a.m.

Deputy Chief Chris Judah listened as Miriam laid out everything they’d learned so far. She started with the discovery of Gina Gardner’s body and ended with the Prestons’ refusal to reveal what they knew.

Melvin, Ballard, Branch, and Augie, who’d come by first thing, listened, too. Judah ruled from the head of the conference-room table. Melvin sat on his right, Augie on his left. Ballard and Branch leaned back in chairs at the other end.

Miriam paced the room while she talked. She had her pen in one hand, her notebook in the other. She ticked off the items she’d moved from her original notes to a page that rounded up the facts.

She’d done the roundup last night at home after dropping Augie at Saint Mark’s. Thierry had been at work, and there’d been nothing healthy in the house to eat. She’d called for a pizza with only fifteen minutes in the delivery window to spare.

She’d finished the task as the pizza had arrived. A good thing, too. Between the carb-filled crust and the tequila she’d used to wash it down, she’d fallen asleep not long after. She and her splotchy skin and red-veined eyes, her hair that looked like a tornado.

“Here’s what we have. A woman with dementia, who does have good days but has just as many bad, was the foster mother for the three murder victims. She also fostered two others. And she had two sons of her own. One with her second husband, and one with her first. He’s the one with the low IQ.”

“Did we ever find out anything about Gordon Hollis’s father?” Melvin asked. “Is he still alive?”

Miriam stared at him, unblinking, watching him raise one brow the way he did when he caught her dropping a thread. She hadn’t even gotten around to checking property records in the Hollis name. “As soon as we’re done here, I’m on it.”

“And the Bible verses?” Judah asked, looking from Miriam to Augie.

She came to a stop and waited for Augie to answer.

He rubbed a thumb over the table’s surface as if the motion helped him gather his thoughts. “I’m honestly not sure I’ve been of any help in that regard.”

“First impressions, then,” Judah said, leaning back in his chair. “What are they?”

“It feels”—he looked at Miriam as if she knew the word he wanted—“random, maybe? Not the murders, obviously. Not the victims, since their connection is established. But the Scriptures. It’s almost as if the killer went looking for justification after the fact since he’d already targeted his victims. Like he didn’t do a lot of planning beforehand.”

“Pulling out the law God gave to Moses doesn’t take much imagination,” Melvin said.

“And the murders,” Miriam said. “The second and third were biblical in nature. The first one wasn’t.”

“So, he’s progressing. Or he was until we grabbed away his prey.” Judah thought for a minute, then asked, “You think he’s prepping his insanity plea in advance?”

The thought
had
crossed Miriam’s mind. “Could be.”

Judah gripped the end of the table and used it for a drum, turning to Augie again. “So, you don’t get the sense that this is a pious individual? Or that the Scriptures are actually meaningful to the suspect, or to the crimes?”

Augie shook his head. “I can’t imagine a truly pious individual committing murder. But, no. I don’t feel as if this is someone who actually believes he’s carrying out the Lord’s work. His public justification seems more for show.”

Judah kept drumming, the beat sounding like something from the Grateful Dead. “Do you think he’s been waiting for the last two fosters to get home? Do you think he’s going to go after them next week?”

“Since they weren’t around for this Monday, you mean?” Ballard asked, looking at Miriam, who had no answer.

“What’s the deal with Monday?” The question came from Seth Branch, who’d been listening quietly, and frowning a lot. “Any idea why he’s done them all on the same day?”

Judah picked up the question and ran with it. “Yeah, Monday’s not a Bible thing, is it?”

“The Sabbath, being the last day of the week, makes Sunday, for most Christian faiths, the first,” Augie said.

“Sounds like that leaves the Prestons as our best lead,” Judah said, with one final drumroll before smoothing down his psychedelicpatterned tie.

Melvin pushed his chair away from the table. “Except for the fact that they lawyered up.”

Ballard closed up his spiral notebook and pocketed it. “Not sure what they think they could be in trouble for, but yeah. I can’t imagine them going out of their way to help us.”

“Even to save their own lives?” Branch asked, standing and buttoning his suit coat.

“I want to know what they promised Gina,” Miriam said. “Best guess it’s going to be about the money. But I’m not sure at this point if we’ve got enough to look into their financials. It’s not like they’ve done anything wrong.”

“So, we wait until one of them gets killed?” Melvin asked. “Because I’d really like a better option.”

“We still have Sameen Shahidi,” Miriam reminded the room. “And Dorothy Lacey. If you need me, Caring Hands is where I’ll be.”