Tin God (6 page)

She retreated across the small space, determined to keep a distance, but her hands refused to be still. She stuffed them into the pockets of her cutoff shorts, Nick’s scrutiny heating her skin the entire time.

Cage sat down on one of her worn chairs and stretched his long legs in front of him. Nick stood near the door, arms crossed. Jaymee raised an eyebrow.

“I’m here to observe.” He matched her glare with a challenge in his eyes. “Mostly.”

“Jay, what did you want to tell me?” Cage rapped his fingers on the old table.

She hopped onto the countertop. “What do you know about Rebecca’s murder?”

“Just the basics right now. Looks like she was killed by someone she knew. Husband is suspect number one,” Cage said. “Holding up all right?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Strongest person I know. Where’s Mutt?”

“Running around. Probably chasing girls like a typical adolescent boy.”

Cage smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was tired.

“Any suspects?” Jaymee asked.

“You know I can’t talk about that in detail.”

“That’s not fair. You’re telling me Lana’s murder might be related to Rebecca’s, yet you can’t tell me how? Bullshit.” Jaymee crossed her arms over her chest and gave Cage the stink-eye.

Cage grinned. Jaymee hated that little smirk; he never failed to break her defenses with it. “You first.”

“You piss me off most days.” Jaymee leaned forward. “Fine. I’ll share. Royce Newton’s a client of Crystal’s.”

“Figures.” Cage rolled his eyes toward Nick. “Jaymee’s neighbor. Known prostitute, although she does most of her work across the river, right?”

Jaymee nodded. “She saw Royce a few nights before the murder at–” Jaymee caught herself. She didn’t need to reveal all of Crystal’s business. “Their scheduled meeting place. Royce was stressed. Rebecca had busted him on something to do with money, something going on in Jackson.”

“Money,” Nick said. “Always a good motive.”

“Yeah, well, he said Rebecca could ruin him.”

“Why the hell haven’t you told Charles this?” Cage asked. “Or better yet, why didn’t Crystal?”

“She was afraid she’d get pinched. And I’m telling you because I trust you.” She crossed her legs and rested her head against the cabinets. “Your turn. How could Rebecca’s murder possibly be connected to Lana’s?”

Cage put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “There’s the obvious, Jay.”

The resemblance. The first time Jaymee saw Rebecca walking across the street from the diner, she thought Lana had come home without telling her. She bolted out of Sallie’s and across the street only to accost a stranger. They’d joked about it until Lana’s murder.

“That’s coincidence.” Jaymee said over the ache in her throat. “Lots of people look alike. They’re in two separate cities, four years apart.” She looked at Nick without making eye contact. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re stretching it.”

“Show her the note,” Cage said.

Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie. Inside was a white piece of paper, folded so the black type showed.

Jaymee’s insides hollowed out as she read the words. Her fingers went numb. “When—when did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

An unbearable pressure built inside Jaymee as Nick stared at her. She pressed her hand to her stomach. “After I found Rebecca?”

“Yes.”

“M.E. said she’d been killed the night before, guessing around eight p.m.,” Cage said.

“Wait.” Jaymee held up a shaking hand. “That makes no sense. Was this mailed?”

“Postmarked in Jackson.”

“That’s impossible,” Jaymee said. “Mail doesn’t move that fast. Sometimes it takes three days for something to get here from Jackson.”

“Maybe he mailed it before he killed Rebecca,” Cage said. “Her murder looks premeditated.”

“But Royce is the main suspect.” Jaymee struggled to understand. None of this made any sense. “He didn’t even know–” Even as she spoke, her mind squashed the thought and veered in another direction. Her already nervous stomach lurched, and her hand went to her mouth. Saying it would make everything real. She slid down from the counter, no longer feeling steady enough to perch on the cracked laminate.

“What?” Nick stepped across the small trailer and into her personal space. The scent of his aftershave hit her: woodsy, masculine, and tainted with bourbon. Spattered gray decorated his day-old scruff. He stared down at her with an intensity that made her knees buckle.

Jaymee couldn’t tear her gaze from Nick’s. “When I first started cleaning for the Newtons, they lived in Forrest Park, the subdivision on the east side of town. Evaline was still being restored. Royce wasn’t around much–he was still commuting to Jackson, tying up loose ends. Most of the time, he treated me as hired help. But one day, he was home and sort of hovering. Rebecca was outside, talking to a neighbor. Asked how we met. I told him I mistook her for a good friend. When he asked who, I told him it was Lana.”

“And?”

“He knew her. Mentioned he’d had a couple of her cases. Abused kids.”

Nick stepped backward so quickly she might have shoved him. Jaymee seized her chance and sat down across from Cage. He stared at her, the same unspoken pain passing between them, as raw as the day four years ago he’d knocked on her trailer with the news. He’d cried in her arms, begged her to let him stay the night. It was the one time he’d slept in her bed, but not the first time she’d turned down his pleas for intimacy. She’d held him while he slept instead. She could never return his love, not in the way he so desperately wanted.

Jaymee finally spoke. “Why would Royce have killed Lana?”

“I don’t know,” Cage said. “But do you remember if he was in Jackson when she was murdered?”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. “He
was
there. I worked for Rebecca then. Day Lana was found, Rebecca had lunch at Sallie’s. I’d just heard the news and was a mess. Rebecca stayed until my shift ended and then took me to the Fosters’. I remember Rebecca telling me that Royce was in Jackson. She’d called to tell him because he’d known Lana.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“But what about the note?” Jaymee said. “Why send something like that? It’s the only reason you’ve tied the two together.”

“He’s taunting me.” Nick’s deep baritone resonated with anger. “He’s gotten away with murder for four years. Why would he worry about being caught now?”

“Because he just committed another one,” Jaymee said.

“Yeah, but all this time has given him confidence,” Cage said. “He’s honed his skill, maybe even killed others. Probably thinks he’s off police radar.”

“Which isn’t Royce Newton.” Nick sagged into the booth next to Jaymee, the excitement draining from his rugged face. The bench was barely big enough for two. His tanned forearm brushed hers. Her heart sped up at the contact.

“That’s true,” Cage agreed.

“Wait, catch me up,” Jaymee said. “Isn’t Royce the suspect?”

“Whoever killed Lana is smart. Calculating,” Nick said. “If Royce Newton got away with murder four years ago, he sure as hell isn’t going to be stupid now. Killing his wife would be incredibly dumb and put him smack ass in the hot seat.”

“And sending the letter makes it worse,” Cage said.

“But he told Crystal that Rebecca knew about the money,” Jaymee insisted. “Royce was panicked. Could barely perform.” Her cheeks flamed.

“So maybe he did kill her. But something doesn’t add up.” Cage leaned against the wall and sighed.

“Maybe Royce is just a pawn,” Nick said. “Annabelle told me there were rumors Rebecca was having an affair. Gives him more motive, especially if Rebecca signed a prenup. Adultery trumps that. Maybe the killer knew, saw the time to strike.”

“Why?” Jaymee asked. “The only thing Lana and Rebecca have in common are looks.”

“There’s more.” Nick ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “We just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Speaking of more, you said you had two things to tell me,” Cage said. “What’s the other?”

Jaymee studied her fingernails. “Oh, good old Daddy Dearest stopped by work today.”

Cage’s upper lip curled. “You tell him to go to hell?”

Nick shifted beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, Jaymee could see his brows furrowed. No doubt he’d be quizzing Cage later. He’d know soon enough most of her family hated her.

“In so many words,” she said. “But I also remembered he had a run-in with Rebecca about a week ago. She told me they argued at a city council meeting over zoning, and afterwards he followed her to her car. Ran his mouth about smiting his enemies.”

“Your father?” Nick asked. “I take it he’s a bad guy?”

“He’s a religious zealot who likes to hit women and control everything,” Cage spat. “God knows he’d have motive for both murders.”

Jaymee sucked in a hard breath and kicked Cage under the table. Nick leaned forward, his large hands spread out. He no longer wore a wedding ring.

“Your dad would have motive?”

Cage grunted and looked across the room. Jaymee wanted to shove her fist in his mouth.

“Lana and I were always close,” she said. “You probably don’t remember, but the winter before you two got married, I stayed in Jackson for a while.”

“I do remember. Lana never told me much about it, though.”

“Family problems.” Jaymee worked to keep her voice smooth. “Namely, my father. He hates me and by extension, anyone who tries to help me. He and Lana had argued over me before. Paul–my father–threatened her, too.”

That part wasn’t a lie. Jaymee found out months after she returned to Roselea that after manipulating his daughter into coming home, Paul had threatened to tell Lana’s parents about Jaymee’s pregnancy and make sure they knew of Lana’s involvement.

“You think he’s capable of killing?”

“He’s capable of anything.”

“Jay, I’ll have to tell Charles all this,” Cage said. “Nick and I are going to see him in the morning, lay out our theory. I’ll get him to leave you alone.”

“Thanks.” Despite the blazing trailer, Jaymee wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn’t stop shivering. “Let me know if you find out anything else about Rebecca’s murder.”

“I will. Forensics processed the scene, found the usual stuff. Keepsakes, jewelry. Couple of names they’re going to check out. No one I recognize.”

“What names?” Nick asked. “I’ll see if I can tie them to Lana.”

“First one looks like it might be a password. Second is a name, Debra R. Davies.”

For the second time in just a few days, Jaymee’s entire world shifted and flipped upside down.
Debra R. Davies
. She hadn’t heard anyone speak the name for years–not since before Lana’s murder. Lana had spent months searching for a record of the woman, a paper trail, a previous case, anything. Her attempts were futile. The woman Jaymee had known as Debra R. Davies simply did not exist. And yet she was the social worker who’d so carefully guided Jaymee through Sarah’s adoption.

Butterflies began to war in her stomach. Rebecca hadn’t known about Sarah. Not everything. Only that Jaymee needed a family attorney and a private investigator. Had she guessed? How could she have possibly found out about Debra Davies?

“Something wrong?” Nick stood too close. Jaymee swallowed and tried to find her voice.

Yes
. Something was terribly wrong. Lana and Rebecca both knew of Debra Davies. Lana knew Royce Newton; Rebecca was married to the man. And both women knew something about Jaymee’s bitter past. Raw instinct washed over her from head to toe. Somehow, this was about Sarah. That’s why the note had been sent to Nick.

Jaymee’s knees turned to rubber. She might have fallen down on the spot if not for Nick’s steadying hand. She couldn’t look at him now. He’d see the lie in her eyes. The shame.

“Jay?” Cage’s voice. Soft, suspicious. He’d never heard the name, still didn’t know all the details.

“Debra R. Davies is a social worker.” Jaymee’s mouth numbed. Her lips moved slowly, as if they were coated with glue. “At least, that’s what she told me. Lana never found her, though. She wasn’t in the system.”

“What?” The old booth squeaked as Cage stood. His heavy boots clunked across the trailer’s old tile. “Do you mean the social worker that helped–”

“Yes.”

“What are you talking about?” Nick looked between the two of them. “Why was Lana looking for this Davies woman?”

Jaymee’s fingertips dug into her temples. She didn’t want Nick to hear about her past and judge her like everyone else. And speaking the words out loud would make her fears real. She couldn’t face the thought.

Warm skin, dry and calloused, touched hers as Nick rested his hand on her arm. Hot shivers raced through Jaymee’s veins and sent her trembling nerves into overdrive. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking.

“Jaymee, please. I have to know.”

“Tell him.” Cage stopped pacing. “If this social worker is involved...it’s time Nick knew.”

Jaymee pursed her lips, willing the tears away. She squared her shoulders, took a long, raw breath, and faced Nick.

“Lana was looking for Debra Davies because she believed my daughter’s adoption was part of a black-market adoption ring.”

Nick stared. Dozens of scenarios had raced through his head as Jaymee spoke, but the truth rendered him dumbstruck. She met his gaze, mouth set in a grim line, chin jutting out with the effort to keep from crying. Her eyes betrayed her real emotions. Their brown depths shined with buried pain.

“How?” One word was all he could muster.

“When I was seventeen, I got pregnant. Paul was furious. He wasn’t about to let me shame him. He shipped me off to an unwed mother’s home in Jackson, told everyone in town I’d been sent to disciplinary school. Only Reverend Gereau knew the truth, and he said getting me out of Roselea before I started to show was best because Paul would be embarrassed. Said that would make him treat me even worse.” Jaymee’s mouth twisted. “As if the reverend ever cared about how Paul treated me.”

“What about the baby’s father?”

Jaymee stilled. Her gaze darted to Cage and then back to Nick. She licked her lips until they gleamed beneath the sixty-watt bulb hanging over her rickety table. “He took off. Had a career ahead of him.”

She was lying. Her fast words and lack of eye contact gave her away. Nick looked at Cage, but his brother-in-law remained stone-faced. Fine. Nick would let them keep this secret. For now.

“Where did you go?”

“Hannah’s House.”

Nick rocked back in the unsteady booth. “The unwed mother’s home Reverend Holden Wilcher founded? A lot of the contributions from his television show go to Hannah’s.”

“Hannah’s offers adoption counseling, provides a place to stay, tutoring if needed,” Jaymee said. “I stayed there for months. Did home schooling, went through adoption counseling.”

Her lips had gone white. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “I named her Sarah. She was born just a week before my eighteenth birthday.”

“What adoption agency did you go through?”

“Didn’t have to. Holden Wilcher and Paul go way back. When I got in trouble, Paul called Holden. He wanted me hidden away and taken care of. So that’s what Holden did. Brought me into Hannah’s and set me up with a social worker to handle the adoption.”

“Debra Davies,” Nick said.

“You got it.” Jaymee’s voice snagged. “She said she had a great family who’d been waiting on a baby for a long time–that they couldn’t go through an agency because the mother had Crohn’s disease. Went on and on about how it wasn’t fair and how my pregnancy was this couple’s gift from God.” Fresh tears squeezed from her eyes. “I didn’t want to give Sarah away, but I didn’t think I could take care of her. And everyone said it was best. For Sarah.”

“Who’s everyone?” Nick asked.

“My father. The counselors. And Reverend Penn Gereau.” She spat the name like venom. “I thought he might understand, but he was just like the others. He said the unselfish thing to do was to give her to those hopeful parents. So I let her go.”

“I’m sorry.” Nick didn’t know what else to say. “What about your mother?”

“She followed Paul’s lead. Too afraid not to.” Jaymee rubbed her eyes with her fist.

“How does Lana come into all this? Did she support you through the pregnancy?” Nick looked at Cage. “What about your parents? I can’t believe they would turn Jaymee out.”

“She didn’t tell any of us. Mom and Dad still don’t know.”

Jaymee finally looked Nick in the eye. “Please keep it that way. They don’t need to know.”

Nick nodded.

“I didn’t tell Lana until she brought me to Jackson. Cage, either.”

Nick dug into the recesses of his brain. He’d been at Lana’s apartment when the collect call came from Jaymee all those years ago. Lana hadn’t asked her many questions–just sent money via Western Union and told her to get to Jackson. Jaymee was an old friend in trouble, she’d said. Nick was chasing a story when Jaymee arrived–the one that ended up breaking his career wide open.

Nothing rocks a conservative state like a dirty politician, and Nick had managed to uncover evidence of one of Mississippi’s Supreme Court justices paying for sex while actively campaigning for a crackdown on prostitution in Jackson. The judge, an assistant district attorney, and two aides were nailed with a private ring of high-end escorts. Nick catapulted from a beat reporter to star investigator and never looked back. When Jaymee arrived on Lana’s doorstep, he’d barely noticed.

“No wonder she went into a tailspin when you showed up.”

“At first she said there was nothing I could do to contest the adoption because in the state of Mississippi, once you sign the papers, the deal is done.”

“At first?”

“When I told her how it happened, how I’d worked exclusively with the social worker and never saw the attorney, she flipped out. Said I should have dealt with both. I didn’t know!” Jaymee smacked her hands against the table.

“I was so depressed.” Jaymee wiped her face with the back of her shaking hand. “Lana had never heard of the social worker or the attorney I used. I told her Holden had set that all up.”

“And Lana took that information and ran with it,” Cage said.

“She somehow gained access to the adoption records. There were none for Sarah. Then she contacted Hannah’s and talked to them about the agencies they work with and how they handle private adoptions. She said they refer anyone who’s interested in a private adoption to some big-shot Jackson attorney. I don’t remember the name, but she talked to him, and he had no record of the social worker or a match for Sarah.”

Nick tried to make sense of what she was saying. “So Hannah’s House had to have known your adoption was illegal?”

“That’s the real kicker,” Cage said. “When Wilcher brought Jaymee to Hannah’s House, he said she was a special case–that he was doing a favor for a friend. Said he’d be helping with a private adoption.
He
found the social worker.
He
found the attorney.”

“And Hannah’s policy is only to counsel, not to get legally involved,” Jaymee said. “Once the mother decides to give her baby up for adoption, they’ll connect her with a social worker who then recommends an adoption agency. In my case, they just gave me room and board because Holden was their benefactor, and I was his charity case. They stayed out of the way.”

“And when Lana checked, they had no record of Debra Davies, right?” Nick said. “Did you ever meet with the social worker at Hannah’s?”

“Never.” Jaymee covered her eyes with unsteady hands. “My father or Holden always took me to meet her, usually at a restaurant.”

“You think your father knew the adoption was illegal?” Nick asked.

“I don’t think he cared as long as his name was left out of it,” Jaymee said. “Paul’s reputation comes first. Always.”

“What about Gereau?”

“I’m sure he knew. He’s almost as far up Wilcher’s ass as my father is.” Jaymee wilted into the bench. She suddenly looked so pale Nick thought she might pass out. “Why did I trust them?”

Cage knelt beside her and wrapped his arm around Jaymee’s small shoulders. “You were young and terrified. We’ve been through this.”

Jaymee shrugged him off. She squeezed between Cage’s bulk and the table and then stumbled to stare out the small window over the sink. Her round cheeks flushed pink, and tears dripped from her thick eyelashes. Nick felt bad about pushing her, but he needed to know the truth.

“So Lana kept searching?”

“Yeah.” Jaymee grabbed a plastic cup from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. It shook as she drank. “At first we didn’t want to believe Wilcher had done anything illegal. Maybe he’d been taken in too. But his involvement is the only thing that made sense.”

An electric charge rushed through Nick, lit up from the realization of what Lana had been trying to get him to investigate. “The Saint of Jackson is dealing dirty adoptions.”
“Stupid nickname,” Jaymee’s voice came out a near-growl. “Wilcher’s the damned devil.”

Cage sat down across from Nick. “When she couldn’t find Sarah’s adoption on file, Lana was sure the social worker had a shady attorney in her pocket. Probably duped the adoptive parents, too. Made it her mission to prove the adoption was illegal even before Jaymee came back to Roselea.”

“Why did you come back?” Nick asked. “Why didn’t you stay as far away from your father as possible?”

Jaymee’s face darkened. “Paul can be very persuasive. Said I was ruining Lana’s life and interfering with her relationship. Promised me he’d help get me on my feet, give me one last chance.”

“And?”

“I spent four days at home. My mother had to walk a tightrope around Paul, but she tried to be there for me. Tried to tell me I could still start fresh, have a good life. I started to think maybe she was right.” She took another shaky sip of water. “Then Paul told me to pack up again; he’d found me a place. Brought me out here, paid the first month’s rent for the lot and the trailer. Told me this was my fresh start and to stay out of their lives.”

She crushed the red Solo cup. A harsh, dry sob escaped her open lips, her leaking eyes clenched against the misery. “Eighteen and completely on my own. My brother Darren was in college, and I couldn’t interrupt his life. So I got the job at Sallie’s and started cleaning houses. Lana kept trying to find Debra Davies. Thought that was our best chance at getting to Wilcher. She refused to give up.”

Her bare feet shuffled against the worn tile as she paced. She rubbed her hands on her bare arms leaving red marks on her fair skin.

Cage moved to go to her, but Nick beat him to it. He caught Jaymee by the shoulders. The muscles in her arms were taut beneath his hands. “Did Lana ever talk about Royce Newton?”

“No. Most of our conversations were either by pay phone or through cryptic messages at the diner. We had to keep everything from Paul.” She moved out of his grip.

“You said you never thought about any of this being a motive for her murder. Why did you say you were sorry to Lana at the funeral?”

“Because she’d been consumed with helping me instead of being happily married to you. I’d tried to tell her to back off–that I would scrape together the money for a private investigator. I knew you two fought, and I wouldn’t let her tell you anything. I caused so much trouble.”

“Lana was loyal to her friends.” Cage spoke from behind him.

“He’s right,” Nick said. “And trust me, I caused most of the trouble in our marriage. I wasn’t there when I should have been.”

“I got Lana killed, didn’t I?” Jaymee slumped forward, her head coming to rest on Nick’s chest. Her hair smelled like vanilla, her body hot against his. Her small frame rattled with hoarse sobs as her fisted hands pressed against his stomach. Moisture glistened on the back of her neck. Nervous adrenaline rippled through Nick. He didn’t know how to comfort this woman crying over his wife–this woman he felt both empathy and fury toward. If only she’d kept her secret and stayed out of Jackson, Lana might still be alive.

“And Rebecca, too,” Jaymee mumbled as if reading Nick’s thoughts.

“Rebecca Newton knew about Sarah too?” Cage asked.

Nick caught the tremor of hurt in his brother-in-law’s tone. He gently pushed Jaymee away.

“No. She only knew I needed money for an attorney to settle some family drama. But she knew how I felt about my father and his buddies. And she certainly knew Paul hated me.”

“So how did she find out about Davies?”

“I don’t know. Royce practiced family law. Maybe he’s the attorney Lana was searching for.” Jaymee traced the logo of Nick’s now tear-stained Polo shirt and then jerked back a step as though she’d just realized how close they were standing. She hugged herself. “Sorry about that.”

Nick dragged his fingernails across his right temple. His thoughts were racing at high speed, and the adrenaline spurred him into clarity. He was good at this.
Dig, dig, dig
. Dig until he had the truth by the balls.

The silence festered. Nick’s mind swam with new information. Someone wanted Jaymee’s secret kept at all costs. Who had more to lose? Paul Ballard or Royce Newton?

Or the father Jaymee refused to name? “There’s no way the baby’s father could be involved in any of this?”

Jaymee stepped back so quickly she nearly fell. Nick caught her by the elbow just in time, and she jerked her arm away, her eyes once more looking everywhere else but at him.

Cage cleared his throat. “He’s long gone. Jaymee got sucked in by this greedy Davies bitch, Wilcher, and whoever they were working with.”

“Royce Newton,” Nick said.

“Maybe,” Cage said. “We’ll have to talk to Charles and–”

“No.” Jaymee’s shout reverberated off the metal walls. “You can’t. We don’t have any proof. I don’t want to get Detective Charles involved until I have to.”

“Why?” Cage asked. “He’s a good cop, Jaymee.”

“He’s not going to do a damned thing without proof except maybe interview my father, which is the last thing I want. Please. Not yet. Let’s figure out what Royce knows–if anything. Nick’s an investigative reporter. He can get something out of him. I’ll help.”

“Jaymee…” Cage began.

“I want to help.”

Nick cocked his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Jaymee didn’t flinch as he sized her up.

“You’re too close,” he argued.

“And you’re not?”

He ran his index finger over his bottom lip and then tapped the corner of his mouth. “All right. I wanted to talk to Royce Newton. Now I know what the topic of conversation will be.”

“Goddamnit, Nick,” Cage said. “You’re not a cop. You’re already withholding evidence with that letter. You think Royce Newton’s just going to tell you if he and Debra Davies were involved in illegal adoptions? And how are you going to get by Fat Jonas?”

Nick looked down at Jaymee. She nodded, a silent understanding passing between them, and he faced Cage. “Jaymee here needs to pay her respects, of course.”

“No way.” Cage pulled on Nick’s arm.

Nick yanked out of Cage’s grasp. “I need to talk to Royce Newton. She can get me inside.”

Jaymee glanced at Cage. His expression was unreadable, but pain reflected in his eyes. He missed his sister. The bastard that killed her needed to be brought to justice. And Jaymee owed it to Lana. “Cage, please.”

“Fine.” He shoved the trailer door open. “You’d better be damned careful. But I want to talk to Jaymee in private before we leave.”