by Helen Gray
Toni sighed, shaking her head in frustration. “I’m not convinced she did, but I think she knows everything that goes on in that home, and she’s involved somehow in whatever happened.”
His expression conveyed deep internalization. “The boys have seen the nurse that Goldman was dating out there, as well as Hudson. If, as you think, a baby brokering business is operating in that place, they’re all involved.”
Toni’s head bobbed vigorously. “That’s right. The only one I can’t see how fits into the operation is Wendy Rutherford. Do you think she’s connected to Vickers or Hudson in any way? Or was she just flirting with the preacher and kept the town’s money because she was mad at him?”
“I think that’s probably all it was,” Buck said after a moment. “But we can’t just mark her off without checking on whether she has an alibi that’ll hold up. Goldman had gotten cross grain with too many people for us to be sure which one killed him. But you and your trio seem to be chipping small bits of information from a wall of nothing.”
“I wish we could find the final key,” Toni lamented.
“I don’t have that, but I have some more chips,” he said, a slight smile forming. “One good thing that’s come from all the bad stuff is that we’ve shut down a chop shop.”
“Good. What about Donnie Fisher? Do you think he’s out of business, too?”
He pushed the Coke toward her. “I’m not sure. He’s too handicapped to do the physical things he used to, but he still knows what goes on in that racket. I think I’ll lean on him and see if I can get a name to hook to the incident with the cut brake lines.”
Toni took the Coke and pulled the tab. “Good idea,” she said after taking a swig.
“We’ve also located Keith Ryker,” he continued. “I talked to his wife and she finally admitted that he’s in an alcohol rehab center in St. Louis.”
Toni thought that over for a few seconds. “Do you think he knows anything about Goldman’s death?”
“I plan to send Dale up there to interview him tomorrow.”
“I wish I could figure out the connection,” she said, trying to remember details of the stories about the Rykers. But she couldn’t think of anything helpful.
“There’s one more thing,” Buck said, doodling on his desk pad. “We located the parents named on those two birth certificates. I’ve requested DNA tests on the babies they adopted, as well as the young women who were told their babies died.”
“I’ll bet those girls signed custody release papers, thinking they were signing burial releases.”
Buck eyed her curiously. “You do, huh?”
With an emphatic nod she went on to fill him in on her chat with Jeremy and outline the results of his online research.
“He seems to be a bright kid …I mean young man,” Buck amended. “I agree about your theory. Most crimes are about love or money. There could be some serious money in the kind of operation you’re suggesting.”
“I’m not sure how deep into it our victim was. I don’t want to think he was preaching on Sunday and stealing babies during the week.”
“We may find some things we don’t like.”
“I know, but we have to find the truth.”
“How’s Russell?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.
“Okay, so far as I know. Mom insisted I not miss work or make that drive today. She was going back, of course. I’ll call him when I get home, and I plan to drive over after school tomorrow. It’s the last day for students, you know.”
“Go home to your boys, and then call their grandpa,” he ordered.
She followed orders.
Tuesday morning’s class routine was altered. Second, fourth and sixth hour finals were taken during first, second and third hours, and lunch was served during fourth. During lunch in the cafeteria John slid his tray onto the table and scooted onto the bench next to Toni.
“Send ’em home full of baloney,” he joked, lifting a bologna sandwich from his tray.
“You could have had peanut butter and jelly,” she pointed out, picking up her own. They each had chips and a cookie.
“If you have anything you need to do after school, I’ll be happy to take the boys with me and finish our movie,” he offered when they were gathering their trays to leave the table.
“I don’t have plans, but if anything comes up I’ll yell,” she promised.
All students and staff went to the gym for an assembly. There were some special awards presented, and then the two teachers who were retiring were presented with gifts from the groups they sponsored. When the students were dismissed at one o’clock, there was shouting and hand pumping as bodies moved en masse for the exits.
Once the building was cleared of students, the staff attended a professional development meeting in the cafeteria. Toni glanced occasionally at her watch as the meeting dragged. The speaker wasn’t very good, and the topic wasn’t particularly interesting to Toni. She was relieved when it ended at two-thirty.
Instead of going to her room to start clearing it like most of the teachers were doing, she grabbed her purse, slipped out the side door, and hurried to the ball field to meet Jeremy. Gabe and Garrett were inside the tennis court, swatting a ball back and forth. She waved as she passed them, and pointed at where Jeremy sat waiting in the same spot as the day before.
“I made a little trip to you-know-where,” she said as she joined him.
He reacted with a big grin as she related her trip to the maternity home and her hopes of finding out more about Charity’s identity.
“So what are you going to do today?” he asked when she finished.
“The only plans I have right now are to get back to my classroom and work for a few minutes like the rest of the teachers.”
“Will you…”
The ring of her cell phone interrupted his question.
She dug it out of her purse. “Hello.”
“Can you come by the office after school?” Buck asked.
“I can be there around three-thirty.”
When she disconnected, Jeremy gave her a knowing grin. “The chief?”
Toni gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Yes. Go help the coach. And if you don’t mind, would you look up now and then and check on my boys?”
Jeremy saluted her and stood. “Will do.”
As he trotted to the ball field where Coach Hopper was pulling up in his pickup, Toni headed back to the school building. She went directly to John’s room.
“Hey, you’re making some serious progress,” she said as she entered and saw him boxing up personal items. The trash cans were overflowing.
He paused. “Something’s up?”
She shrugged. “Chief Freeman called and asked me to stop by. The boys are playing in the tennis court. I’ll accept your offer to take them if it’s still open. ”
“I’ll do better than that. Jenny said she wants me to invite the three of you to supper. She’s making lasagna, and the recipe’s too big for just the two of us.”
“Since you put it like that, I’ll join you after the chief’s done with me.”
“Don’t rush,” he called after her as she left his room.
Toni went to her own room, looked around, and decided she couldn’t accomplish anything in the remaining ten minutes of duty time. So she packed her satchel with a few things she could take home right then. She would have to make the most of the next day, which was to be a full workday for staff.
Chapter 21
When Toni entered the police station, the officer on front desk duty waved her on back to Buck’s office.
“I thought you’d like an update,” the chief said as she took the chair facing him and reached for the Coke on the corner of the desk. She nodded and pulled the tab.
“I talked to Donnie Fisher,” he said. “He swore he didn’t have anything to do with cutting the brake lines on the Lakowski boy’s truck and doesn’t know who did it. When I started leaning on him he said someone probably got a call, like he
did about the preacher’s car. When I brought up the subject of charges on the car matter, he suddenly wanted to talk about some kind of deal. I didn’t make any promises, but he finally produced the name of a guy he knows who might do such work. Austin Gorman has been involved in a lot of petty stuff over the years.”
The name niggled at Toni’s memory, but she couldn’t make an immediate connection. She was positive she didn’t know him personally. But something about the name still bothered her.
“I’m going to go visit Wendy Rutherford right now,” he continued, “and see if I can get some facts, like a verifiable alibi.Would you like to go along and help me lean on her?”
Toni grinned. “I think I would.”
“What about your boys? Are they here?”
“John Zachary has them, so I’m free.”
He stood and reached for his hat. “Then let’s go.”
“Wendy’s more likely to be at the golf course than at home,” Toni said as she slid into the passenger seat of the patrol car.
“We’ll try her house first, just in case,” he said, starting the engine.
Surprisingly they found her car in her driveway. When Buck knocked at the door of a cottage style house in the Middlebrook subdivision, the door opened just a crack. Wendy’s face peered out at them, her short spiky hair that was lightened to almost white framing her head like an object from outer space. Toni swallowed an urge to giggle.
“Good evening, Mrs. Rutherford,” Buck greeted her brusquely. “We need to talk.”
The woman gazed past him to fix a rude stare on Toni. “That…nosy person and I already talked,” she said coldly.
“You talked to me, too, but now we’re going to talk some more,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Wendy glared at them, but then she opened the door wider. “Come on in,” she invited without a hint of graciousness.
She led them into the living portion of a great room and plopped down on a black vinyl sofa, leaving them to their own choice of seating. Toni chose a thickly padded occasional chair, and Buck took the rocker facing Wendy.
“I need to know where you were the night the festival ended and the preacher was killed,” he stated bluntly. “I also need it verified.”
Patches of red flushed Wendy’s cheeks. “I told both of you that I went home sick,” she snapped in angry indignation, poking a finger at Toni.
“But you didn’t convince me,” Toni said, experiencing a niggle of satisfaction at the woman’s discomfort.
“I can’t believe you let her nose around like this,” Wendy complained to Buck. “She’s not a cop. Isn’t she out of line?” Her speech had become caustic.
“She’s a departmental consultant,” Buck said, his tone inviting the woman to shut up. “You, ma’am, have already admitted to theft, and you’re looking at a murder one charge if I don’t get some satisfactory answers—and proof to back them up.”
“I admitted no such thing,” she denied sharply. “I was just holding that money until Brock returned.”
“You kept it for over two years. It’s theft,” he thundered. “We know you spent a lot of time with the reverend, and the relationship apparently went sour.”
“He had sour relationships with a lot of people, and one of them murdered him. But it wasn’t me,” she shouted, and then seemed to wilt. “All right,” she choked. “I handled things wrong, and I wish everything had turned out different.”
“Tell us exactly what happened,” Buck ordered.
For several moments he and Toni watched the woman squirm, giving her time to reconcile herself to admitting whatever was the truth.
Wendy took a deep breath, apparently having weighed her options and run out of good ideas. “I was so mad,” she said at last, her voice hardly audible.
While they waited, Toni found it hard to sit still and keep her mouth shut when she wanted to drag the truth from the woman.
Wendy cleared her throat and inhaled a deep breath. “I had thought there was something between us. Brock broke off with the girl he was engaged to, and I thought it was so we could…you know…” She made an expressive gesture with her hands. “Then I found out it was because he was seeing that nurse, Madison Vickers. But I still figured she was just a casual thing. Then, during the festival, I saw them over by the first aid booth. She was running it, and there weren’t any patients. They were cozied up right there by the end of the booth,” she repeated, her voice bitter.
“Did you confront him?” Buck asked.
“No, not then,” she said, her head moving side to side. “That was the first night. But I saw them together more over the weekend, and I decided to confront him about it. I’m aware now that they had been seeing one another before he dumped the younger girl, but I didn’t know it then. That Sunday, after I collected the money, I met Brock to put it with what he had collected, and I asked him about her. He said he wasn’t planning to marry her. He was going to be leaving town soon.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went home to drown my sorrows,” she said bitterly. “But then I got to thinking, and the more I thought about what a rat he was, the madder I got. Finally I just had to do something. So I got in my car and went to his house, meaning to give him a piece of my mind. But he wasn’t home.”
“And that made you even madder,” Buck guessed.
She nodded. “By that time I had worked myself into such a rage that I didn’t know what to do. I went to my car and saw my golf bag in the back seat. I grabbed an iron, went back to the house, and started beating on the door with it. Then I smashed a window.”
“Can you show me the club?” Buck asked.
“Just a minute.” She stood and went to another room. A couple of minutes later she returned and handed him an iron.
“It’s a sixty degree sand wedge,” he noted, turning it over in his hands as he examined it and ran a thumb along the length of it. “It’s bent.”
Wendy managed a weak smile. “I guess I hit things pretty hard.”
“Let’s go for a drive,” he said, coming to his feet.
“Where?” Wendy asked, clearly surprised.
“To where you say you bent this.”
With Wendy in the back seat of the patrol car, and Toni holding the golf club for Buck, they drove to the Temple of Light parsonage. When they pulled up in front of the house, Toni observed no sign of damage. What she did see was a white sedan in the driveway.
When they all got out and started up the walk, the door opened and a giant of a man stepped through it. He wore a white shirt and gray slacks, and his hair was dark and curly. Toni recognized the church’s new pastor from the memorial service.
“May I help you?” he asked, his gaze curious.
“I’m Buck Freeman, Chief of Police here in Clearmount,” Buck said, gripping the golf club in his hand. “I came to see if there’s any damage to the door of this house, but I can see that it looks fine.”
The man looked puzzled. “I’ve only been the pastor here a few months, but when we were moving in, I remember someone remarking that there had been some vandalism around the time their last pastor disappeared. They had to replace the door and a window. I don’t know any more about it than that.”
“So you know there was damage, but you can’t say when it happened?”
The pastor shook his head. “The members said they didn’t know when it happened.”
“Thank you.” Buck turned to leave.
As they headed back down the sidewalk to the car, Wendy glanced around and came to a sudden stop. She pointed at the mid sized oak tree at the edge of the yard near the end of the sidewalk. “On my way back to my car I took some swings at that tree. I may have left some marks on it.”
They stepped over to the tree, and she peered at one side of it. “Around here,” she said, pointing.
Buck ran his hand over the trunk and stopped at one point to peer at it more closely. “Here’s a scar,” he said, placing the wedge of the golf club alo
ng it to see if they fit. He shook his head. “It may have been made by the club, but it’s been too long to be able to tell.”
Wendy stared at it, her expression thoughtful. “After I hit the tree with the golf club, I got in my car and banged it with my bumper as I took off. The next morning I took the car to Lakowski’s Garage.”
Buck looked back at the pastor, who was still standing on the small porch. “Can you find the phone number of Lakowski’s Garage for me?” he called back to the man, pulling out his phone.
The pastor went inside the house and returned moments later, flipping the pages of a phone book. “Here it is.” He held it out for Buck to see.
Buck dialed. “Hi, Jake,” he said moments later. “Can you tell me if you have a record of Wendy Rutherford bringing her car in with bumper damage on the Monday after the Fall Festival two years ago? Yes, I can wait,” he said after a moment.
They waited about five minutes, and then Buck’s expression indicated Jake had come back on the line. “Okay, thanks,” he said after listening to whatever the man was saying.
He disconnected and faced Wendy. “He has a record of it, so you may be clear of a murder charge. The theft is another matter.”
When they pulled in at the police station after taking Wendy home, Toni faced Buck across the car seat. “Do you think her alibi is solid?”
His mouth pulled in at the corners “I think it’s shaky, but her story is just crazy enough that I believe it.”
*
After supper at the Zachary home, Toni drove to Cape Girardeau to visit her dad in the hospital. He had been transferred from ICU to a regular room and was stewing about coming home. Faye had worked that morning and spent the afternoon and evening with him. She and Toni agreed that he was doing fine.
By the time Toni got back to Clearmount, picked up the boys, and arrived home, she was exhausted. She was just crawling into bed when the phone rang. It was Buck.
“About an hour after you left my office, Dale got back from St. Louis,” he said. “He interviewed Keith Ryker and found out what was bothering him.”
Toni struggled to stay alert. “Was it helpful?”