Tin God (15 page)

He jerked back as though she’d hit him. Moisture brewed in his eyes. “Of course I care, Jaymee. This–I don’t…this just isn’t possible.”

Her head pulsed. The nagging doubt was now a scream. She clamped her eyes shut and tried to think straight.

“But it is, Reverend,” Nick spoke. “Holden Wilcher took advantage of Jaymee’s need for a father figure. She got pregnant; he convinced her to keep quiet and have the baby at Hannah’s House. His own charity doubled as a front for Sarah’s black-market adoption.”

“Why do you think the adoption was illegal? You filled out paperwork, didn’t you?”

“Paperwork given to me by a social worker no one can find. Paperwork that was never filed.”

Gereau seemed to shrink in his chair. He reached for his desk, his fingertips banging against the wood. “I don’t understand.”

“When Jaymee took off to Jackson and told Lana everything, my wife started digging for information. And found absolutely nothing. No social worker. No adoption. It’s as if Sarah didn’t exist.”

Jaymee swallowed the pain from those words. “Wilcher needed a shady attorney. The day she was killed, Lana had lunch with a friend. She saw Royce Newton with my father and Wilcher. She was angry and made it clear to the friend she was with, Wilcher was in something deep.”

“Lana knew the truth.” Jaymee couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. “Just when she got close, she was murdered. Rebecca Newton knew some of the truth–maybe more than I realized. Royce told Crystal Harns his wife knew something that could bring him down just before Rebecca was murdered. Crystal knew the truth about Wilcher, too. Now she’s dead.”

Gereau stared at her in disbelief. “Are you saying you think Reverend Wilcher is having these women murdered to keep this secret?”

“Yes, and Sarah wasn’t the first. Lana found evidence of another woman he’d fathered a child with and forced to give the child up. Of course, that evidence disappeared when Lana was killed.”

“There’s a lot of money to be made in black-market adoptions,” Nick said. “I doubt Wilcher stopped with his own offspring.”

Gereau stood up and walked to his bookcase. With trembling fingers, he pulled out a weathered Bible. For several seconds, he stared down at the faded lettering, tracing the gilded words with his thumb.

“But you have no tangible proof,” Gereau said, raising his gaze back to theirs.

“Not yet,” Nick said.

“And you want me to give you some.”

“Everything you know,” Jaymee said.

His smile was laced with bitterness. “I know nothing. Far less than I thought.”

Feeling as though her head might explode, Jaymee stood and faced Gereau. “I don’t believe you. Maybe you’re scared. Fine. But it’s time to do the right thing, Reverend. Isn’t that what being a man of the cloth is about? Or are you no better than Wilcher?”

His eyes flashed to hers. Anger emanated from them so strongly, Jaymee stepped back.

“I’m nothing like Wilcher. Had I any idea what he’d done to you, I would have hauled him before the church–the entire state of Mississippi–and held him accountable for his sins.”

The force of his words stalled her instant denial. Guilt weighed on his features–the same expression Jaymee saw every time she looked in the mirror and thought of Lana, Rebecca, and Crystal.

Jaymee bowed her head. Her lungs constricted with the threat of angry sobs. Gereau hadn’t known.

“Fine.” Nick took over as he stood. “What do you think of Paul Ballard?”

“He’s a coldhearted bastard who shouldn’t have been allowed to be a parent.”

“You think he’s capable of murder?” Nick asked.

“I think he’d do whatever it took to protect his precious reputation and high standing in the church. He’s obsessed with it. Always has been.”

“Then why are you such good buddies with him?” Jaymee accused.

Disgust and then shame flashed over Gereau’s face. “It’s always best to keep the peace with Paul. We both know who he takes his anger out on.”

“Why didn’t you help her?” Jaymee demanded.

Gereau tugged at his collar, his posture slumped. “I was a coward. Plain and simple.”

“Yes, you are.” The urge to berate Gereau for sitting idly by while her mother suffer swelled inside Jaymee, but she clamped her mouth shut. They needed Gereau.

“And Wilcher?” Nick asked.

Gereau set the Bible back down. His hand drifted toward Jaymee’s shoulder then fell to his side. “Apparently I don’t know the man at all.”

“You do,” Nick said. “Think about his personality.”

Deep wrinkles stretched across Gereau’s forehead. He stared blankly for a moment and then dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh of resignation. “He’s a leader, the drill sergeant. Not the kind that goes out into battle, but the kind who hides behind the front lines and takes credit for all the sacrifice by the grunts.”

“So he’s not the killer but pulling the strings,” Nick pressed. “Royce Newton’s the dirty attorney. We all know who the muscle is.”

“Paul.” Jaymee didn’t try to mask her hate.

Gereau nodded. “If any one of these men is a killer, it would be him.”

“We need your help, Reverend.” Nick sat on the edge of the desk, calm and in control.

Gereau looked at Nick and then at Jaymee. Eyes wide, mouth partially opened, he looked like a man on fire. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

“We’ve got to tie Paul to one of these murders,” Nick said. “Get him in the hot seat. If Charles is any kind of investigator, with the right kind of evidence, he’ll get Paul to talk.”

“Well, that’s easy.”

Jaymee’s gaze narrowed. “What’s easy?”

“I’m a man of the cloth, as you said. I hoped Paul’s being a suspect in Rebecca’s murder was a misunderstanding. But after hearing about Crystal’s murder, and what you’ve all told me–”

“I don’t follow.” Nick pushed back to his feet.

“Paul Ballard was a client of Crystal’s. They had a running meeting on Monday nights. I’m quite sure he saw her last night.”

Jaymee was too shocked to be disgusted. “You’re willing to tell this to Detective Charles?”

“Absolutely.” Gereau walked to the desk and dug out a set of keys. “Right now, in fact.”

Damn, the adrenaline rush. Happened every time he was close to nailing a story. This was no different. He could smell the truth. Sense the victory celebration.

Nick pulled out of the church’s parking lot with Jaymee. Gereau’s car followed.

“I’ll drop you off at work. Soon as we’re done with Charles, I’ll come back to the diner and fill you in.”

“Whatever.” Jaymee’s hard voice was directed at the window.

“What’s wrong? Gereau’s on our side. You were wrong about him, and that’s a good thing.”

“I wasn’t.” Her sharp voice hurt his ears. “He lied to me. He’s suckering you and trying to save his own damned skin.”

“Jaymee.” Nick reached for her arm. She yanked it away.

“Look, I’ve interviewed a lot of people. Taken classes on body language. Even sat in on a police course about it. Gereau’s telling the truth.”

“No.” Even as she spoke, Jaymee’s face betrayed her. She knew Gereau was telling the truth just as much as Nick did. She just didn’t want to believe she’d been wrong about the man.

“I know it’s hard.”

“No, you don’t know. You might try, but it’s impossible for you to know the same pain I do.”

He said no more. He pulled up in front of Sallie’s expecting Jaymee to leap out and run for cover. She stayed. He waited.

Jaymee rocked forward, her face contorted in agony. Her head twisted from side to side as if she were fighting to keep the truth out of her thoughts. “Ever since Lana figured out I’d been lied to, I’ve blamed Penn Gereau. He was my last hope before I gave Sarah away. And he let me down.”

“He was easy to blame.”

“I don’t know what to do now.” She fell back against the seat, eyelashes wet with unshed tears.

He took her hand, and she grasped his fingers hard enough to send a tremor of pain up his arm. “Of course you do. Move forward. This time, Gereau’s truly on your side.”

“I suppose I should apologize to him.”

“I doubt he expects that. He’s not the only one on your side.” Need got the best of him once more. With his free hand, he brushed her hair off her cheek, caressing her soft skin. His hand lingered near her mouth.

“I know.” She brushed his thumb with her lips. Then she ran, opening and slamming the car door. She cut across a sidewalk of tourists and disappeared into the diner.

Nick dropped his head against his seat, pulse racing and palms damp with sweat. That woman had done more to him with one tiny gesture than she could have if she’d told him she was falling in love with him. As his vision cleared, he spotted an angry face looming in the midday crowd.

Cage
. He’d no doubt witnessed the entire exchange.

Cage strode past the crowds to the driver’s side of the Taurus.
Shit.
Nick didn’t have time for an ego-stroking session. He needed to meet Gereau at the station and make sure he didn’t tell Detective Charles too much.

He rolled down the window. “Hey, tried to call you. We just talked to Gereau.”

Cage’s hand hovered over his gun belt. He looked like he wanted to rip Nick out of the car and go a few rounds. “Yeah?”

“He didn’t know,” Nick said. He told Cage about Gereau’s reaction—that even Jaymee agreed the reverend was telling the truth. “And get this. Paul Ballard was a client of Crystal’s. I’m meeting Gereau at the station in a few minutes.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Ballard needs to sweat it. If he’s the muscle, he might still cover his own hide. Charles needs to see him as a suspect in all three murders, including Lana’s. I intend to make him do that.”

“You going to tell him about the baby and the adoptions?”

“Not yet. We need more tangible proof.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Can you make it?”

“I’m headed out to serve a warrant for a suspected meth lab.”

Nick made a show of checking his watch. “I’ve got to go. Gereau’s probably there now.”

Cage didn’t move. His right hand closed over his gun while the left clutched the open window sill. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses, but his hard expression said everything. The vein in his neck pulsed amid tense muscles.

“Look, about what you saw–”

“What would Lana think of you coming down here and seducing the woman she thought of as a little sister?”

“It’s complicated, Cage.”

“No, it’s not. It’s you preying on a vulnerable woman.”

“Jaymee’s too smart for that,” Nick said.

“I noticed you don’t deny it.”

“I shouldn’t have to. You know me better than that.”

“Thought I did.” A note of pain crept through Cage’s anger.

“I’ve got to go.”

“You need to back off Jaymee. She’s—”

“Yours?” Nick couldn’t stop the taunt. “You know that’s not true. Never has been. Never will be.”

Cage’s knuckles turned white. Nick half-expected him to shove the gun in his face.

“I don’t want to fight with you. But you need to talk to Jaymee, not me. Get this shit between you two settled.” Nick hit the button to roll up the window. Cage hesitated and then moved his hand.

“I’ll call you after we talk to Detective Charles.” He pulled out into traffic, leaving Cage standing in the street. He shouldn’t have baited him, but Cage needed to move on.

And what about Nick’s own life?

Lana was gone. She’d want Nick to be happy. She’d understand, eventually.

He rolled his eyes as he pulled into a parking space. How stupid, talking about Lana as if she’d have any living reaction other than to kick his ass to the curb. He was hardly honoring her memory by going after her friend. He needed to be a man, do the right thing by his wife, make the sacrifice to leave Jaymee alone.

Trouble was, he didn’t think he had the strength.

Gereau stepped out of a dark sedan as Nick arrived at the station and parked his car. Nick stuck Jaymee and his conscience on a back burner and got out to meet Gereau near the police station’s doors.

“Don’t mention anything about the baby or the black-market adoptions,” he reminded the reverend. “We don’t have the proof–yet. Charles’ll chalk that up to theory and to Jaymee going after her father. Right now, he just needs to see Ballard is tied to all three women.”

“When are you planning on telling him about Reverend Wilcher?” Gereau ground out the words, his disgust palpable.

“That’s Jaymee’s call. Right now, all we’ve got is circumstantial evidence.”

“You’re not going to let the man get away with what he’s done.”

“No. But I’m not putting all my cards on the table until I actually have them.”

Minutes later, they were in Charles’s tiny office, the door closed.

“Reverend. Samuels,” Charles sat down in his rickety chair. Judging from the bags under his eyes, he wasn’t getting much sleep. “You said you had information on the Harns murder?”

Nick looked at Gereau. The reverend cleared his throat. “Yes. When I heard of the murder this morning, I knew I had to do the right thing and speak to you.”

“So speak. What do you know?”

“Paul Ballard was a frequent client of Ms. Harns.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “That don’t surprise me. You got proof?”

“My word. He’d meet her over in Vidalia at least once a week for sex.”

“Paid in cash, of course.”

“Actually, no,” Gereau said. “He wasn’t worried about his wife finding out. He paid Ms. Harns by check for ‘consulting services.’ Even joked about it.”

“And Sonia Ballard knew nothing about his extra activities?” Nick asked.

“I didn’t ask.” Gereau broke eye contact with Detective Charles, glancing over at the wall of framed commendations. He tapped his middle finger against the metal chair arm.

Charles narrowed his eyes. Finally, he cracked his knuckles and leaned forward in the chair. “So we’ve got to consider Paul Ballard as a person of interest in the Harns murder.”

“Crystal Harns tried to extort money from Paul more than once. He was getting fed up with her,” Gereau said.

Nick stared. Why hadn’t Gereau mentioned that earlier?

“I’m sorry.” He faced Nick. “I didn’t want to mention it in front of Jaymee. She’s had enough thrown at her for one day.”

“So Jaymee spoke to you this morning?” Charles’s tone changed.

“My doing,” Nick said. “She was upset about Crystal’s murder. I thought she needed to talk to the reverend.”

“I see.” Charles wrote something down on gray post-it. “I can only imagine what you’re going to say next, Samuels.”

“Come on, Detective. Crystal was strangled, just like Rebecca Newton and my wife. She’s got ties to Paul Ballard, just like the others. Obviously he thinks he’s above the law. What’s he capable of?”

“I think Paul Ballard is a grade-A bastard capable of just about anything.” Charles set his meaty jaw, eyes steely with determination. “I’m looking seriously at him for these murders.”

“And Lana’s?”

“You heard back from Jackson forensics on that note?”

“Why would they call me? You sent it in.”

Charles grinned. “Yeah, but you got the connections. I haven’t heard a damn thing, and until I do, there ain’t much to tie these two murders to Lana’s.”

“Except the suspect’s hatred of her.”

“You know it’s not enough.”

“For a court. It’s enough for you to snoop around.”

They faced off, Charles chewing the hell out of his gum.

“I know Paul hated Lana Foster,” Gereau spoke up. “He certainly didn’t mourn her.”

“Don’t make him a killer,” Charles pointed out.

“No, but saying ‘the meddling bitch got what she deserved’ certainly makes him interesting.”

Another detail Gereau failed to share.

Charles spit his gum into the trash. “You willing to swear to that in court, Reverend? Willing to take the oath, on a Bible no less, that all you’re saying about Paul Ballard is the God’s honest truth?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Charles said. “I just want to make sure this isn’t some sort of revenge thing.”

“Why would I want revenge on Paul?”

“Cause you hate his guts. Don’t know why. But I could see that when I interviewed him the other day and you came for ‘support.’” Charles laughed at the last word. “You’ve stuck by his side because he’s got something over you. Whatever it is has been enough to keep you toeing the line. Until today. Something made you say enough.”

Gereau had a shitty poker face, but to his credit, he didn’t break eye contact with Charles. “Murder is enough, Detective. Are you going to investigate the lead I’ve given you?”

“Hell, yes.”

Gereau stood up. “Thank you.” He glanced at Nick. “I’ll be outside.”

Charles waited until the reverend was gone. “Jaymee Ballard ain’t set foot in that church in seven damned years. It’s the last place she’d go for guidance, Samuels. Try again.”

“You’re a better detective than I gave you credit for. My apologies.”

“Accepted. You’re trying to make a case against Ballard with Jaymee. Why? Her motive, I get. But yours? Sure, Ballard could have killed your wife. But the other day you thought Royce Newton had motive. Now with Harns dead, Newton’s looking like a better suspect for these killings than Ballard. He certainly had motive to shut her up.”

“You’re right. Both he and Ballard had motive to kill all three women.”

“Cut the shit. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I looked you up. You’re a damned good reporter. Busted some pretty bad guys. You know as well as I do the case you’re making for Lana being a victim of the same guy who’s killing ‘round here is thin at best. Yet you believe it wholeheartedly. What aren’t you telling me?”

Nick considered his options. Charles was a good cop trying to do the right thing. If he knew the full story, he might run with it. Might go after Wilcher with power Nick didn’t have.

“It’s not my place to tell you.”

“I suppose it’s Jaymee Ballard’s?”

Nick didn’t deny the truth.

“Damn, I need some chaw.”

“How long since you quit?”

“Three months.” Charles unwrapped another piece of gum. “You tell Jaymee I want to help. Tell her to come in here and lay out everything for me so I can do my job. If she really has proof Lana is tied to all this, then trust me to put the case together.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Work hard. And fast.”

Nick headed out of the station. Gereau waited next to Nick’s car, sweating in the scorching heat. “What happened?”

“Charles knows we’ve got information we’re not sharing. Figured out it has to do with Jaymee. Wants her to come in and talk to him.” Now he fixed the reverend with a piercing glare. “Why didn’t you tell us what Ballard said about Lana?”

“Protecting Jaymee. She was barely keeping herself together this morning. Not that I can blame her. All these years–I could have protected her.”

“You didn’t know the whole story. Hindsight’s always 20/20, Reverend.”

“I suppose.” Gereau wiped his forehead and turned to walk to his car. “I’ll talk to Royce Newton, see if I can get something out of him. You tell Jaymee that as far as Wilcher goes, he’s going to answer for his crime. I won’t stop until he does.”

###

Bone-tired, Jaymee sunk into the back booth where employees usually ate. She’d worked a double-shift, and even though she was off at seven, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to walk to the Foster’s house. Maybe she’d just lie down in the booth and sleep here tonight.

Sallie forced a hamburger on her, but Jaymee barely picked at the food. Her mind was a tangle of emotions. The foundation of hate she’d been clinging to for years had crumbled with Penn Gereau jumping from enemy to ally. Her growing feelings for Nick clouded her thoughts. She wished to God she could turn back the clock and make life simple again. Go back in time and refuse Holden’s advances. Not let him sweet talk her into believing he truly cared for her despite their age difference. She’d be stronger, braver. Smarter.

The chimes on the diner’s door rang. She groaned. Technically she was still on, and the new waitress was about as useful as a cowpie.

“Aunt Jaymee!” A chubby toddler raced to the back of the diner and threw himself into her arms. He smelled like bubble gum and baby lotion. She squeezed him tightly and peeked over his shoulder to make sure her father hadn’t brought the little boy.