Silent Killer (17 page)

“Good for you.” He looked her over. “Now get your purse and let’s go. I believe Lorie said early morning services begin at nine, right?”

Cathy knew when to give in gracefully. Jack wasn’t going to back down, and in all honesty, she didn’t want him to. For more reasons than she dared admit, she not only wanted Jack at her side this morning, she needed him.

Cathy and Jack walked into the church three minutes before services began. They could have sat at the back, but when she saw Seth sitting in the front row beside J.B., she knew what to do. Jack didn’t hesitate when she marched up the red-carpeted aisle and found a half-empty pew directly behind her son.

She and Jack got a lot of curious stares, which took the people’s minds momentarily off the rumors that were no doubt circulating about Seth, Missy and the other teenagers who had been hauled into the sheriff’s office before daylight this morning. Let them talk about her. She’d been fodder for the Dunmore gossip mill since the day Mark was murdered.

Poor Cathy, losing her husband so tragically.

Poor Cathy, having to raise her teenage son all alone.

Poor Cathy. You heard about her nervous breakdown, didn’t you? She went completely off her rocker and wound up spending a year at Haven Home.

As soon as she sat, she leaned forward and placed her hand on Seth’s shoulder. Startled by her touch, he jerked around and looked at her. His mouth formed the word
Thanks.
She smiled and patted his shoulder. Just as Seth glanced at Jack, J.B. turned around and glowered at Cathy. Seth looked back and forth from her to Jack and then turned around just as the song leader called out the number for the first hymn.

This church service was not going to be easy for any of them, but it would be pure torture for Seth. If only she could spare him from being on public display. If Mark were here…But he wasn’t. Mark was dead. Seth had no one but her to protect him.

Jack reached between them and took Cathy’s hand in his.

Was this a sign from God? Was the Almighty trying to tell her that she wasn’t all alone?

Cathy had grown up attending church services every time the doors opened. Sunday school, Sunday morning services, Sunday night services, Wednesday night services, vacation Bible school and week-long gospel meetings. No one who knew Cathy’s mother could say Elaine wasn’t a devout Christian, but her single-minded obsession with religion bordered on fanaticism. To Elaine Nelson, anything that was too much fun, too enjoyable, had to be a sin. But by the time she was a preteen, Cathy had realized most members of their small Church of Christ in Dunmore were not fanatics but simply good people trying to live the best life they knew how by following the teachings of Jesus. As a teenager, she had become exposed to other Protestant religions through her school friends and learned that there were indeed people like her mother in all the various denominations.

At seventeen, she had begun feeling trapped by her mother’s restrictions, so when home-on-leave Jackson Perdue had noticed her, she had been ripe for the picking. She didn’t blame Jack, at least not now, and hadn’t for a long time. He’d been twenty, almost twenty-one, and more than three years her senior, but a dozen years older in experience. His bad-boy persona had intrigued her. He’d been moody and intense and drop-dead gorgeous. What teenage girl could have resisted him? She had fallen madly in love with him during their two-week whirlwind romance. And with dreams of happily ever after in her head, she hadn’t hesitated to have sex with him.

Suddenly, when everyone in the congregation stood to sing and Jack tugged on her hand, Cathy snapped back from the past to the present, realizing that she hadn’t heard one word of the last few minutes of Brother Hovater’s sermon. The hymn was an invitation to sinners, both members and nonmembers alike. Members could come forward and ask forgiveness for their sins. Those who had not been baptized into the Church of Christ faith could confess their past sins, proclaim their belief in Jesus as the Son of God and be baptized. This plea to sinners was part of every church service.

Halfway through the chorus, Seth rose to his feet and stepped forward, extending his hand to Donnie Hovater. Missy, who had been sitting several rows behind them, also came forward and placed her hand in her father’s. Both teenagers’ movements were stiff, as if they were robots, their actions programmed into them.

“Please be seated.” Donnie raised and then lowered his hands, emphasizing his instructions to the congregation.

He then took the two teenagers aside and spoke to each of them quietly, their conversations entirely private. Then he guided Seth and Missy to the front bench, where the song leader scooted down to make room for them. As soon as Seth and Missy were seated, Donnie faced the audience.

“Two of our beloved young people have come forward today asking for the Lord’s forgiveness and mercy,” Donnie said, his tone soft and filled with sympathy. “They were led astray by others and found themselves in bad company. They both deeply regret having made an error in judgment that has caused pain and embarrassment to their families.” He bowed his head. “Pray with us as we seek God’s loving goodness and ask Him to forgive Missy Hovater and Seth Cantrell and guide them in the paths of righteousness from this day forward.”

The congregation hummed with whispers and a few louder comments ranging from “Bless them” to “Amen.”

Tears threatened to choke Cathy. How many times had her heart bled for people who came forward during this phase of a church service to confess to some minor indiscretion that could hardly be called a sin. Not unless you considered everything that wasn’t pure and holy a sin. Apparently, many people did. There had been a time, long ago, when she’d been a child, that she had lived in fear of not being good enough, worthy enough, of dying and going to hell. And even though she had been a minister’s wife for more than fourteen years before Mark’s death, she had done her best to raise Seth within the framework of a religion that was based on God’s love and goodness and not on fear.

Just as she had been a product of her upbringing, so had Mark, but he had managed to become his own man despite his father’s iron-fisted approach to fatherhood. And although he had often agreed with J.B.’s strict dogma, more times than not, he had disagreed. Mark had been far more his mother’s son than his father’s, for which Cathy had been exceedingly thankful.

The Sunday morning service ended with another hymn and a final prayer by one of the young deacons. J.B. headed straight for Seth, a satisfied expression on his face. Cathy didn’t think she had ever despised her father-in-law more than she did at that very moment.

She leaned over and whispered to Jack, “I need to talk to Seth.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car.” He glanced around at the horde of parishioners as if they were alien beings. Unless Jack had changed over the years, he was not a religious man.

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

He grinned, then turned and walked away, doing his best to avoid speaking to anyone on his rush up the aisle toward the vestibule.

Cathy smiled, nodded, and even shook hands with several people as she made her way to Seth. By the time she approached her son, Mona and Elaine had joined J.B., and the threesome surrounded him, providing a buffer between her and Seth.

Mona glanced at her, a plea for peace in her eyes. “Good morning, Cathy.”

“Good morning. I’d like to speak to Seth privately, please.”

“Say whatever you have to say to him in front of us,” J.B. told her.

Seth stood tall and straight as he fixed his gaze on her. “Thanks for being here this morning, Mom.”

“Where else would I be?” She totally ignored J.B. as she wedged herself between Mona and her mother so that she could touch her son. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’d like for you to come to lunch with Jack and Lorie and me. We’re going to the Cedar Hill Grill. You love their homemade yeast rolls and their chocolate pecan pie.”

“Seth is going home with his grandmothers and me,” J.B. said, his tone brooking no argument.

Cathy looked J.B. square in the eye. “Seth is old enough to think for himself. You can’t force him to become a clone of Mark or, God forbid, a clone of you. He is his own person—”

“He thought for himself last night,” J.B. told her. “And you see what happened. I think you need to remember that you no longer have any rights where Seth is concerned.”

“I’m his mother!”

“You are an unfit mother.”

Damn him!

Mona gasped.

“Mom is not an unfit mother,” Seth said. “You shouldn’t say such things about her.”

J.B. snapped his head around and looked at Seth as if he’d never seen his grandson before that moment. “You know better than to be disrespectful to me. That smart-mouth attitude is her doing, and I’ll have none of it. Do you hear me, young man?”

Donnie Hovater hurried toward them, leaving his handshaking duties behind as he called to them, “Please, lower your voices. Remember you’re in the Lord’s house.”

J.B. stiffened. “I apologize, Brother Donnie. I’m afraid I let my concern for my grandson—”

“We should go home, J.B.” Mona curled her fingers around his forearm. “People are staring at us.”

He nodded, then reached out and clutched Seth’s wrist. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“I’m going with Mom,” Seth said. “I’ll be home later this afternoon.”

“No, you will not go with her,” J.B. said. “I forbid you to leave here with her.”

“Perhaps we can reach a compromise.” Donnie looked directly at J.B. “With your permission, Brother Cantrell, I’d like to invite Cathy and Seth to have lunch with Missy and me today, and then afterward I’ll bring Seth home.”

J.B. huffed loudly. Mona tightened her grip on his arm.

“That sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea, don’t you think?” Mona’s gaze begged her husband to agree.

“Very well,” J.B. acquiesced reluctantly. “I’m entrusting him into your care, Brother Donnie.” Without another word, J.B. marched off, leaving Mona and Elaine standing there. Both women forced halfhearted smiles.

“Thank you for acting as a mediator in this situation.” Mona sighed heavily as she looked at Donnie.

Elaine grasped Cathy’s upper arm, leaned over and hissed, “Keep this up and you’ll lose Seth forever. Is that what you want?”

Acting as if she hadn’t heard her mother’s warning, Cathy turned to Seth. “I’d thought we might have lunch with Jack and Lorie, but I’m sure they’ll understand why I’ll have to cancel on them. I need to find Jack and tell him—”

“Why’d he come to church with you today?” Seth asked.

“He came with me as a friend, for moral support.”

“Are we ready to go?” Donnie asked.

“Yes,” Cathy replied. “I just need a few minutes to speak to Jack. He’s waiting outside for me.

“Yes, by all means,” Donnie said. “We’ll meet you at my car. It’s the silver Chevy Tahoe.”

Cathy found Jack propped against the hood of his black 1999 Corvette, his arms crossed over his wide chest. When he saw her, he stood up straight and grinned.

“Ready for some of Cedar Hill’s homemade yeast rolls?” he asked.

“I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans,” Cathy said, then went on to explain the situation. “I’m really sorry, but—”

“You don’t need to explain,” Jack told her. “Your son comes first. Besides, it’s not like this is our only chance to have Sunday dinner together.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming to church with me today and for understanding about lunch.”

“Stick to your guns, honey. Don’t let anybody talk you out of fighting for your kid.”

“J.B. Cantrell is a real son of a bitch,” Lorie said.

Jack stared into his dessert plate, his thoughts a million miles away. Well, not quite a million miles, just a few miles away to wherever Cathy was. Whatever decisions she made about her life, especially those involving her son, were none of his business. He had no claims on her, despite their past.

What past? They had spent all of two weeks together, sneaking around day and night, using Mike as a front so that Cathy’s mother wouldn’t figure out she was dating the town’s former bad boy. So what if they’d thought they were in love? She’d been a starry-eyed seventeen-year-old and he’d been her first lover. And he’d been a horny, hungry-for-affection young man facing an uncertain future half a world away.

“Earth to Jackson Perdue.” Lorie reached across the table and tapped him in the center of his chest.

“Yeah, what?” He stared at her.

“I said that J.B. Cantrell is a real son of a bitch.”

Jack grunted. “Yeah, he is.”

She studied Jack closely, a frown marring her smooth forehead. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you? You show up in town for the first time in years. You move back, into a house you hated. You take a job that you’re probably both unqualified and overqualified for, and you insert yourself into Cathy’s life again at a time when the last thing she needs is another complication.”

“Is that what I am to Cathy, a complication?”

Lorie drew in a deep breath, not answering immediately, and then she replied by turning his own question back on him. “Exactly what is Cathy to you?”

“An old friend.”

Lorie snorted. “You and Cathy were never anything as simple as friends. You two were crazy about each other, couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Yeah, sure, for two whole weeks.”

“You left her, remember?”

“I was in the army. I had no choice. I thought she’d wait for me.”

“She did.”

“Not for long.”

“You were reported missing in action, possibly a POW or worse—maybe dead.”

“Yeah, and how long after that did she marry Mark Cantrell—a couple of months?”

Lorie shook her head, her thick, reddish-brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. “If you’re pursuing her now in order to get some sort of revenge for—”

Jack laughed. “I haven’t spent all these years pining away for Cathy any more than she has for me. Yeah, when I got out of the prison camp and came back to the U.S. and found out she’d married somebody else, I felt pretty raw about it. But that was a long time ago. Cathy and I are practically strangers now.”

“Strangers who are still attracted to each other,” Lorie said. “And I’m not saying that you wouldn’t be good for each other. But I’m warning you—Cathy is the best friend I’ve ever had, and if you hurt her, I’ll rip your head off.”

Grinning, Jack reached over and took Lorie’s hand. “She’s lucky to have a friend who cares so much about her.”

“I’m the lucky one. When I came back to Dunmore nine years ago, with my tail tucked between my legs, it didn’t take me long to realize I was the town pariah. Even my own parents wouldn’t give me the time of day. But Cathy reached out to me. She went against everyone, including her husband, to offer me her friendship. She was the only person in town who was willing to give me a second chance.”

“What sort of man was Mark Cantrell?” Jack released Lorie’s hand.

“He was basically a good man, considering the fact he was a preacher. And you should know that my opinion of clergymen in general is that half of them are sanctimonious hypocrites. Mark wasn’t.”

Frowning, Jack nodded.

“Not what you wanted to hear, huh?” Lorie said.

“Actually, I’m glad he was a good man. Cathy deserved somebody a lot better than me. I was pretty messed up back then.” He let out a chest-deep chuckle. “Hell, I’m still messed up, but getting a little better every day.”

“Mark was eight years older than Cathy and a lot more settled than guys her age. He’d been married before and lost his first wife. He was ready to get married again and to start a family. And that’s what Cathy wanted.”

“So she had a good life. She was happy.”

Lorie grabbed Jack’s hand and squeezed. “Yes, she had a good life. She was content. But…” She released his hand and leaned back away from him. “Damn, I shouldn’t say this.” She paused for a moment. “Cathy never forgot you.”

Lorie’s words hit him like a sledgehammer in the gut, knocking the air out of him. He sat there stunned and speechless for several seconds. But before he could react further, he felt a hand clamp down over his shoulder.