The Harvest Club (8 page)

“It’s the pastor’s relationship to Brad that’s got me thinking.” He frowned after the departing pastor.

“Maybe I should walk the girls to their cars. I see Brad and Rick walking behind them. Do you want to come along?”

“You’re on your own. I have some work I want to catch up on before my shift is over, and besides I can handle Jessie better at a distance.” He grinned and shrugged.

“I thought you said Jessie looked fine tonight.” Dylan slapped Matt on the back and laughed.

“I did, but some things are just better to look at and never touch. It’s like my relationship to spicy food. It smells good, looks even better, but it gives me indigestion. She might give me indigestion, but I’m not blind.” Matt smiled and walked toward the station and turned to watch until Dylan caught up with the ladies.

The park was clear of people except for a few stragglers when he finally opened the door to the station and walked in. Matt noticed the newest member of the force siting at the desk. He looked so young, with his dark hair and his head bent over a book. Matt wondered if he had ever looked that young or had been as nice as this kid was.

“Hi, Matt, how was the concert?” Joe Collins looked up from his book. “It’s been a real snoozer here, nothing much going on.”

“It was pretty quiet in the park. We had only a few minor skirmishes, not bad for the size of the crowd. How’s your wife and baby girl?” Matt smiled taking inventory of the dark smudges under Joe’s eyes, his disheveled uniform, and his hair standing on end.

“Both my wife and I would be great if only our new little sweetheart would sleep at night.” His hand propped up his head.

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my office. I’m off duty in about an hour.” Matt started down the hall.

“Okay, Matt.” Joe watched him walk away.

Matt turned on the light and pulled Gina’s case file. He looked over the list of suspects and wrote on the margin next to Brad Martin’s name
Pastor Rick
and then circled it.

“What is the connection between these two?” His brows furrowed. “It’s not pastoral in nature, I’m sure. I’d even stake some money on that.” He tapped his pencil on the desk.

He wrote a new column in the file and put the pastor’s name at the top.

He started to make notes of observations, and what he personally knew about the man.

“Pastor, there are some things I would like to know about you. I’ll find out. You won’t be able to hide much longer.” Concentration etched lines in his face.

For the next hour, he pored over the time line and made notations in the case file. There was something nagging at him in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hey, Matt, you’re still here?” Dylan’s voice startled him.

“I was going over Gina’s case file. Seeing Brad and the pastor has stirred up something, but I can’t figure it out. I know I’m missing something.” Matt rubbed his temples.

“You’ll put it together. Something’s got to break soon,” Dylan encouraged him.

“I wish I felt as positive as you. These guys were professional. They didn’t leave a trace of evidence other than a note with no fingerprints or handwriting.”

“They’ll slip up eventually. Bad guys always do.” Dylan changed the subject. “As soon as I caught up with the ladies, Brad and Rick veered off in another direction.”

“Stands to reason they wouldn’t want to be observed by you.” Matt closed the case file and a second file he’d opened. He picked up the second file to take with him.

“Say, are you about to call it a night?”

Matt nodded.

“Give me ten and I’ll walk out with you.” Dylan turned to walk to his office.

They said goodnight to Joe on their way out the door. “You want to stop for a beer?” Dylan asked.

“Not tonight. My mind is still going over the case, and I think I just want to keep my focus for a while.”

Dylan got into his new Ford pickup and Matt went to his vehicle, his pride and joy, a cherry red ’53 Chevy pickup, fully restored, by his truly, in mint condition.

Stopped at a red light on the drive home, he thought about calling Jessie to tell her about his decision, but it was too late.

He’d known for a while that he needed a fresh pair of eyes to look at some of the evidence in the case. Jessie might be that pair. After he did a background check on her and talked it over with the police chief, his mind was made up.

Anderson had asked Matt about Jessie. He had heard of her reputation. When Matt told him what he had learned in his background check on her, the chief advised Matt to use her as part of his team. “You can keep an eye on her since she’s new in town and make sure she doesn’t mess up your investigation.”

It was actually Thomas O’Malley, the last New York homicide investigator he had talked to, that had sealed the deal.

“Jessie is a smart and trusted journalist,” O’Malley had said. “Her research is impeccable. If we asked her to withhold information for the sake of the investigation, she could be trusted to do what we asked.”

“How did she help and work with your department?” He explained to O’Malley that he was thinking of bringing Jessie into his case.

“On several occasions she obtained information during her research or interviews that she shared with us. We solved a few cases because of it. One look at those blue eyes of hers, and people simply told all.” He laughed. “She’s a sweetheart. There isn’t an officer in this precinct who wouldn’t trust her with vital information. That’s saying a lot.” He chuckled. “We don’t particularly like newspeople.”

“I hear you,” Matt responded.

“She’d have made one hell of a cop. But to tell you the truth, she’s more effective being an outsider. People just seem to open up to her. We were all sorry to see her go—she brought class to this joint. By the way, what’s she doing now?”

“She’s working as a church secretary.”

“I’ll be damned, if that’s not the perfect cover for her.”

Matt remembered Thomas’s parting words to him. “Treat her good, you hear, or you’ll answer to me and a few others here at the precinct. Her research is sound. The way she puts it together will make your head spin, but she’s tenacious and gets to the truth, thinking like a woman would.”

Hell, she had already messed with his head, but his mind was settled. He would take her to dinner and ask for her help, a truce of sorts—nothing more. Truth was he wanted a whole lot more.

Jessie’s mind was a whirl of activity as she drove to Rocky Pointe. She didn’t exactly know how to approach Gina’s parents. Hopefully they would say something during the introductions and small talk that would give her the opening she needed.

Rocky Pointe was beautiful. There were no beaches, just rocky bluffs which were quite majestic looking. Clouds were building over the ocean, and the waves were slamming the rocky shore line. It was totally awesome, and Jessie had to pull over and take pictures.

She loved the old Victorian and Cape Cod houses that made up the older section of the town, built along the rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean. Some of them were private homes, but others had become inns or small shops.

She followed the Bradleys’ directions, and before long, she found herself parking in front of their home. They lived in the newer section of Rocky Pointe in a well maintained modest house on the far edge of town.

She felt a little nervous, but she was in too deep to turn back now. She walked up the sidewalk to the front door. It was time to peel back a layer. Perhaps she could secretly help Matt without him knowing. Impossible, absolutely improbable, there was no way; he would just have to accept her help and like it. This was not a simple murder case.

She listened to the three-note chime of the doorbell. The door was opened by a pretty brunette with dark brown eyes. Jessie knew the minute she saw her where Gina got her looks. Mrs. Bradley was an attractive, petite woman with a smile just like her daughter’s.

“You must be Jessie Reynolds.” She opened the screen to let her in.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.” Jessie smiled at her.

“Please be seated.” She motioned to a chair. “My name is Pam, and this is my husband Don.”

Jessie acknowledged the introduction and continued cautiously. “As I told you on the phone, I wanted the opportunity to explain to you why I want to do this story. Then it’s up to you. I don’t want to intrude on what must be a very hard time for you both.” Jessie paused, gathering courage. “I don’t want you to think I’m weird, because nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

She proceeded to tell them all that had happened to her since moving to Blue Cove. “So you see, I didn’t know your daughter or that she had been murdered when I took the job. Until I saw her picture hanging in the church and James Morris told me she had been murdered, I thought I was seeing a living person.”

Gina’s parents showed very little reaction to all she had said. Jessie could only imagine what they must be thinking. “The dream was the turning point for me. The expression on Gina’s face when she asked for my help got to me. When I told her I would help her, it felt like the right thing to do.” Jessie paused and heard only the sound of the refrigerator running.

After a few minutes Pam’s soft voice broke through the heavy silence. “Gina loved that floral dress, and it sounds like something she would do to get help for her kids if she could. You must be overwhelmed, Jessie. It’s strange even to think of it as a possibility.” Pam looked at Jessie, her eyes moist with unshed tears. “Gina was a wonderful daughter, not perfect by any means, but caring and a very good mother. Whatever else she was, she was first and foremost a great mother.”

“Her kids miss her something awful.” Don straightened in his chair. “We are trying to help them find a new kind of normal, but it’s not easy with the custody battle hanging over their heads. They’re not even Brad’s kids. He’s just doing it to make it look like he cares and give the impression he’s a loving father. The kids don’t want to be with him, but Brad had started the process of adoption before Gina was killed.”

“Who’s their real father, if you don’t mind me asking?” Jessie looked at Don as she asked the question.

“His name is Bill Johnson, but he’s had nothing to do with the kids for years. He’s in prison for drugs and armed robbery.”

“Is there anything you can tell me that might lead to the person or persons who murdered your daughter?” Jessie threw out the loaded question.

Don looked at his wife and clearly made a decision. “We are going to tell you what we know because I believe, however strange your story seems, Gina is trying to help us find her killer.”

Pam leaned forward. “Ever since I can remember Gina wanted to be a pastor. She was assigned her first church, when Bill Jr. was little and Gina had just found out she was pregnant again. Bill resented her time at the church and became overly protective and jealous of her. He called her nonstop, wanting to know where she was and who she was with. Pastor Scott, the senior pastor, was trying to help Gina. He could see the problem escalating so he sent her to another pastor friend in the next town for counseling.” Pam stopped to collect herself.

“Bill was becoming very abusive. To make a long story short, Bill followed Gina one day and caught her in an innocent embrace with her counselor and almost beat her to death.” Pam wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “To this day I don’t know how she didn’t have a miscarriage.”

“Bill was arrested, and before his case went to trial, high on drugs, he robbed a liquor store and threatened the clerk with a gun. After he was convicted and sent to prison, Gina divorced him.”

Pam continued. “After counseling, she seemed to be doing better. It was during this time she met Brad Martin, who fell head over heels in love with her. He left the priesthood to marry her. I’m not sure she felt the same way, but she saw it as a way to survive. Gina was assigned to the church here almost three years ago. Excuse me, my throat’s a little dry. I’ll be right back.” Pam went into the kitchen to get some water and brought Jessie a glass, also.

“Thank you, Pam.” Jessie took a sip.

Don took up the story. “Everything seemed to be going well, at least we thought it was. Then we started to notice bruises on Gina’s arms that were only visible if a sleeve slipped up. Bill and Sarah seemed to be fussy and always wanting to stay here. And then right before Gina was killed, she told us she had found out something and was going to leave Brad. When we asked her what it was, she wouldn’t tell us. She told us it was too dangerous, if we knew it could get us killed. It must have been what got her killed.” Don walked across the room to the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He gave it to Jessie to read. It was a copy of a typed note:
Now, dear Gina, you can no longer see anything.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Did you know that when they found the body her eyes had been removed? The public wasn’t given that information. The police wanted to keep it under wraps. She was shot after she died. The body was staged, and her blood was everywhere.” His voice trembled as he sat back down. “We still wonder how much she suffered.”

Jessie felt sick. “I didn’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“My daughter’s eyes were beautiful, so full of mischief and life.” Pam was openly crying and looked at Jessie. “They took her beautiful eyes. I get so enraged just thinking of it.”

Don’s hands tightened into a fist. “When you described Gina to us the way you saw her. It gave me comfort to know you saw her with her pretty brown eyes again. I wish someone could tell me—how we can ever get over this? I know in my heart that Brad had something to do with it. He was abusing her, and no matter what his alibi is, that bastard is somehow connected to this.” Don turned away, breathing hard. “He’s alive, fighting to get my daughter’s children, and she’s dead and has no say, at least until now.” His voice broke. “Maybe you can give her a voice.”

“I’m certainly going to try.” Jessie stood. “Here is my phone number. You can call me anytime you think of something no matter how small you think it is. Something as little as a deposit slip or a phone number can sometimes break a case wide open. “She reached for Pam’s hand and held it. “Before I leave, could you please tell me some of your happiest memories of your daughter? Anything from when she was young and recent stories would be great, too.”