by Ellery Adams
Any possible “Christine sightings”—as the group came to call them—went into one pile. Definite Christine sightings in another. And useless pictures into a third. At the end of four hours, the possible Christine sightings pile was three or four photos high. The useless picture pile was massive.
The definite Christine sightings pile was just an empty space on the kitchen table.
Cooper halted her searching to stare at that empty space. What if all this was futile? What if there was no proof of Christine’s alibi? Cooper choked back the urge to burst into tears. It was the last thing she needed to do, and yet it was the moment’s strongest impulse. Then she remembered her prayer time last night and the subsequent energy she’d felt this morning. She clung to that memory, to the hope and surety in her heart. Christine needed them now more than ever, and she couldn’t let Nathan’s family down.
The sound of sluggish footfalls drew Cooper’s attention to the stairs. Nathan was coming from his bedroom and appeared in the hallway a few moments later. He yawned, stretching his arms up over his head. “What did I miss?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes. “Did you find anything?”
“Not much yet,” Cooper replied. “But there’s still a long way to go. How’d you sleep?”
“All right.” He looked down at his Fitbit. “I can’t believe I was out for so long.”
Bryant laughed. “Last I checked, four hours wasn’t much of a night’s sleep.”
“It is when you’ve got as much on the line as I have. Where should I start?”
“With breakfast,” Quinton replied. “I put some cheese Danish on your counter.”
“And after that?” Nathan asked as he headed toward the Danish. “What photos should I start with?”
Trish, seated on the floor with her back against the couch, set aside the stack of photos she’d been looking at. “You can take over my stack. I’m sorry to say I have to go home for the afternoon.”
Nathan shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Thanks for helping out.”
“It’s just that Phil and I promised the girls we’d have some family time today. With everything our group has been up to, and with his work, we just haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we want to. I can come back tomorrow for a while, provided you haven’t already finished the job.”
“Thanks.” Nathan gave her a quick hug, and she hurried out the door. Then he turned to the rest of the group. He looked concerned.
“We’ll prove Christine didn’t do it,” Cooper assured him. “Don’t worry.”
“It’s just what Trish said. That she could come back tomorrow if we hadn’t finished the job.”
“That was very thoughtful of her.”
“I know, but if we haven’t finished by then, we’re in real trouble. At one o’clock tomorrow afternoon, Christine is transferred. I don’t want my sister to go to prison.”
“Nobody wants that.”
Nathan sat on the floor, surrounded by the photos Trish had been looking through. “Then I guess we ought to get back to it.”
• • •
Cooper woke with a terrible crick in her neck. Slowly, she raised her head, groaning at both the pain and because she desperately wished she were still asleep. She’d had the strangest dream last night. She’d dreamed that Bryant was sitting beside her at her mama’s dining table and Jake was there with them, astride a revving motorcycle.
The room was bright—much brighter than it usually was in the morning—so she took her time opening her eyes. Moses and Miriam were oddly quiet and still, leaving her alone.
Then Cooper realized she was sitting instead of lying down. Her eyelids popped open. She was seated at a table. Not her mama’s table, but Nathan’s. Bryant sat at the head of the table, his head resting on his arms. Across from her, Jake leaned back in his chair, his head tipped forward, snoring.
Looking down at the stacks of photos on the table—all arranged by time stamp—the previous evening came flooding back. Nathan’s house. Photo sorting. Christine’s transfer. A very, very late night.
Cooper looked around, trying to remember all the details. Nathan was stretched out on the floor rug, a pillow under his head. He’d still been awake when Cooper had finally laid down her head “just to rest her eyes.” Bryant was the first one to fall asleep. Jake passed out at about the same time as Cooper. The last thing she remembered was him saying, “Rest your eyes? That sounds like a good idea. I’ll do the same.”
Quinton had . . . Cooper sat up straighter. Quinton had been there, too. He’d stayed awake with Nathan. Where was he now?
She spun around at a sudden sizzling sound to see Quinton standing at the stove. The smell of cooking bacon filled the air. He caught her eye and smiled. “Good morning, Coop! I hope I didn’t wake you. Figured everyone would be hungry.”
Cooper stood so she could see the stove. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes. “Quinton, you can always wake me up for a breakfast like that. How long have you been up?”
“Half an hour or so. I hope Nathan won’t mind, but I poked through his cupboards to find ingredients.”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll just be grateful for breakfast.” She stretched her arms and felt her neck and shoulders loosening up. “Can I help?”
“Mind starting the coffee?”
She could hear Nathan stirring on the rug as she poured grounds into the coffeemaker. A few seconds later, he ambled into the kitchen. “Morning,” he said groggily. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Quinton replied, deftly flipping a pancake in the air. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not too bad. My back’s a little sore from sleeping on the floor.”
“I feel your pain,” Cooper said. “I think I had my head turned one direction on the table all night, and today my neck is complaining about it.”
The snoring suddenly ceased, and without looking, Cooper knew that Jake was up.
Then, in a half-awake slur, Bryant asked, “What do I smell?”
Cooper set the coffeemaker to brew and rejoined them at the table. “Quinton has very kindly made us all breakfast.”
Bryant sniffed the air and absentmindedly patted down a cowlick on the side of his head. “That’s nice.”
Jake was still completely dazed, staring obliviously into the kitchen, his eyes unfocused. Cooper wasn’t entirely sure whether he was awake or simply sleeping with his eyes open.
Nathan stepped closer to him and waved. “Jake? You there?”
Jake blinked twice, slowly focusing his eyes on Nathan. “Hmm?”
“I said, you there?”
“Mmm.”
Quinton brushed past Nathan, placing large plates of crispy bacon and scrambled eggs on the table. Bryant’s drowsy smile almost made him look drunk. Jake grunted. Quinton returned to the stove and came back to the table with a third plate, this one piled high with pancakes. While Nathan retrieved mugs and started pouring coffee for everyone, Cooper got plates and silverware. They converged at the table a few minutes later.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Nathan said, pulling up a chair beside Cooper.
Quinton took a seat by Jake. “Glad to do it. I texted Savannah and told her we wouldn’t be at church. She said she and Trish will probably join us after.”
A bite of bacon in her mouth, Cooper stopped in a panic. “My mama and daddy are probably worried sick! What time is it?”
Nathan tapped his Fitbit. “Eight o’clock.”
She ran to her purse and fished out her phone. Ten missed calls. “They’ll be in church now.” She sent her mama a quick text. “Hopefully they’ll see this and not worry too much.”
“They knew you were coming over,” Nathan said. “Do you really think they’re worried?”
“Since I don’t make a habit of staying out overnight, I’m sure they’re a little bit anxious about it. Hence the ten phone calls.”
Nathan nodded as everyone started to eat, but he didn’t touch his food. He poked at the eggs with a pie
ce of bacon and picked at the top of his pancake.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Bryant asked through a mouthful of eggs. He looked a bit more awake with a few bites of food in him. “Because I’m starving.”
Nathan waffled. “It’s not that I’m not hungry. I just . . .” He put down his piece of bacon and stared at the plate. “Christine’s in jail. She’s about to go to prison. And here I am, sitting down to a nice breakfast.”
Cooper pushed her own plate away from her. “Nathan, you don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying breakfast.”
“How can I enjoy it? Why am I even sitting? I should be working. I should be looking through photos.”
Jake downed a cup of coffee in record time and shifted in his seat. The sudden surge of caffeine had perked him up. “You have to eat, Nathan. And you can’t eat and really study those photos at the same time. We’ll eat fast before we get back to work. All right?”
The conversation died down as they focused on their food. No sooner had Cooper taken her last bite than the doorbell rang.
Nathan stood, but Cooper shook her head. “You finish eating. I’ll get it.”
She hurried to the door and opened it to find Savannah and Trish standing on the front porch. She put an arm around each of them and pulled them into a group hug. “We didn’t think we’d see you until after church!”
Savannah returned the embrace and laughed. “Well, church is about more than listening to sermons. It’s about being in a family.”
Trish nodded. “And right now, our family needs help.”
“And moral support,” Savannah added. “That’s my department.”
Cooper led the two of them back to the table. “Guess who I found!”
Jake was on his feet in an instant, heading to Savannah to greet her with a hug and kiss. Meanwhile, Trish headed to the coffeepot and poured herself a mug.
“This is a nice surprise!” Quinton said. “We’ve got extra eggs, bacon, and pancakes, if you’re interested.”
“I am interested in a little java,” Trish replied. “And then I’m interested in getting to work.”
Nathan smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. We were just about to dive in for the day.”
Savannah squinted and surveyed the room. “Are all those dark shapes on the floor photographs?” she asked in dismay.
“Piles of them,” Jake answered. “Piles and piles.”
Trish, on the other hand, was somewhat less overwhelmed. “Looks like you all changed the piles since I left. Did you find anything useful?”
Bryant shook his head. “No pictures of Christine. We finally stopped looking for her and started arranging the pictures by time stamp. We ran out of energy before we could take the magnifying glasses to them.”
“Please tell Phil thanks for those, by the way,” Nathan said. “They’re a great help.”
Trish took a drink of her coffee and set her mug on the counter. “Thanks can wait. Let’s get your sister out of jail.”
Minutes stretched into hours that seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The cool glow of morning dissolved into harsher light. Pile after pile of photos moved from the floor, the table, and the counter to the trash. The group consolidated the remainder of the pictures on the dining table and pulled up their chairs to continue their work.
Suddenly, Nathan stood. He ran his fingers through his hair and then stuffed his fists into his pockets. “This isn’t working,” he announced.
Cooper rubbed her tired eyes. “We’ll keep looking.”
He shook his head. “I can’t even tell in half of these if it’s Christine or someone else. The photos are too grainy. They’re taken from too far away. It just . . . it isn’t working.” Then, in a moment of hopelessness Cooper had never seen in him, Nathan swept several piles of pictures off the table and onto the floor.
No one said a word.
Nathan put his head in his hands and began to cry. “I thought we’d find a way to prove her alibi. I thought we’d get her out. I thought I could help.”
Cooper stayed glued to her seat. She had no idea how to act. She’d never seen Nathan so heartbroken, so dejected. Her heart ached for him, longed to comfort him, but she lacked the words. What could she possibly say to a man whose hope was dangling by rapidly fraying thread? What comfort could she offer?
Thankfully, Savannah wasn’t lacking for words. “Let’s say a prayer,” she said confidently. “God’s taking care of us, and He’s taking care of Christine, too. We don’t always understand His plan, but we can trust in it. His timing is always best, so let’s talk to Him about this.”
She stood and began to cross from her side of the table toward Nathan, but as she walked, she stepped on one of the photos Nathan had pushed off the table. The photo shifted under her weight and she slipped.
Everything happened in slow motion. Savannah’s mouth opened in surprise as she lost her balance. At the same time, Jake’s eyes widened in fear. Cooper leaned toward Savannah, trying to catch her, unable to move quickly enough. Then Nathan reached out and grabbed a hold of Savannah’s arms, pulling her upright.
“Well, praise God your strength overcame my klutziness!” Savannah said, catching her breath as time returned to its normal speed. “Thank you.”
Nathan held on to Savannah until he was sure her footing was solid. “Lest you forget, I’m the one who pushed the photos onto the floor in the first place. If not for my stupidity, you wouldn’t have slipped.” He bent down and began to gather the pictures. “Give me a minute to pick these up before we pray. I don’t want anyone else to . . . to . . .”
Slowly, Nathan stood, staring down at one of the photos. Dropping the others to the ground again, he grabbed a magnifying glass off the table and studied, silently, while the others waited in suspense. For several seconds, his concentration was unbroken, his expression unreadable. Had he found something? And was it good? Was it bad? Had they proven Christine’s alibi?
Or had he found a killer?
15
Nathan pushed the photo and magnifying glass into Cooper’s hands. “Look at this. What do you see? Right there in the middle. What do you see?”
Hands trembling with excitement, she set the photo on the table and held the magnifying glass as steady as she could manage. In the very middle of the picture stood a juggler, a chain saw in each hand and two more in the air above him. People surrounded him at a safe distance, watching, their expressions a mixture of fear and awe. Just to the left of the juggler, in the front row of spectators, stood Christine.
Cooper nearly leapt to her feet. “It’s her!”
Her announcement was met with a chorus of hoorays and high fives.
“What’s the time on it?” Jake asked. “Close enough to count?”
Cooper directed her attention to the time stamp. “It says seventeen fifty-seven . . . so five fifty-seven. Only two minutes after Sinclair was killed.”
“There’s no way she could’ve killed him, cleaned herself up, and then gotten there in two minutes,” Bryant said. “That’s the proof we’ve been looking for!”
Trish stepped over to the counter to retrieve her mug and held it in the air. “To Nathan, for finding the photo!”
“Thanks, but I didn’t find it,” Nathan replied. “It was all Savannah.”
Savannah laughed. “I’m not sure I can take credit for nearly falling, but I’m glad I was able to contribute. Now, what do you say we get on to that prayer? I think this is the perfect time for a big thank-you!”
Nathan put his hand on Savannah’s shoulder. His smile was broad and sincere. “I couldn’t agree more.” He glanced down at his Fitbit. “But maybe say it fast. I’ve got to get this photo to the station before Christine gets transferred. Once she’s in the prison it’ll be a lot harder to get her out—more red tape, fewer friendly faces.”
With all heads bowed, Savannah prayed. “Lord, thank You for this evidence. Thank You for causing all things—even my clumsy feet—to work together for good. Thank you for carin
g for us in Your time.” Her prayer was punctuated by a hearty “Amen” from the entire group. Then, in carpool fashion, they sped toward the station.
As she drove her truck with Nathan riding shotgun and Jake and Savannah in the backseat, Cooper checked the time. It was twelve thirty, half an hour before Christine’s transfer. She fed a little more gas to the engine, praying no cops were around, and whipped around the slower cars on the highway. Never in her life had she spent so much time laying on her horn, encouraging drivers to move out of her way. She almost felt bad; when other people were menaces on the road, she didn’t think much of their character. This time, she was the menace.
But she had good reason to be.
She pulled into the police station at five to one, and before she’d even come to a stop at the curb, Nathan hopped out and was on his way inside. Cooper parked and ran in after him, followed by the rest of the Bible study group.
By the time they caught up to Nathan, he was already headed back to McNamara’s office, but McNamara wasn’t there. His office was closed, and his light was off.
Nathan spun around, surveying the room. His eyes landed on Officer Ghent.
“Officer,” Nathan called out, hurrying toward Ghent. “Officer, I need some help.”
Ghent slowly turned his chair around. “Is it an emergency?”
“Yes. My sister—Christine Dexter—has she been transferred yet?”
“Transferred?” Ghent scratched his chin. “Oh, you mean the prisoner from holding? I think McNamara just took her out back a few minutes ago. Why?”
“Out back?” Trish asked. “What does that mean?”
“He took her out the back door,” Ghent replied, motioning toward a hallway past McNamara’s office. “The prison van pulls up out back. It’s not so public there, you know.”
They hurried in the direction Ghent pointed, just in time to see the prison van pulling away. Cooper could see the outline of Christine’s head and shoulders in the back of the van. McNamara was up front, riding in the passenger seat.