Penance (Oak Grove Suspense Book 2)

by Reese A. Stephens

  “Food will help.”

  “Or make me barf my brains out,” I say as I look up at her. “I don’t normally drink much during the day, but I always have at least a beer in the morning.”

  “You can do this.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. I give her a smile, but I’m not so sure she’s right.

  “Judson?”

  I look up to see my oldest sister, Lyla. Her eyes are filled with tears. I haven’t seen her in months. Take that back, it’s probably been close to a year, which is so unlike us. We’ve always been close. She wraps her arms around me as she sits beside me in the booth.

  “You look terrible.”

  I chuckle. “Thanks. I feel terrible.”

  “I’ve been so worried about you. We all have.” She looks at Laney, our joined hands, and then up to Laney. I let go.

  “You shouldn’t worry. I’m fine.”

  She gets that look in her eyes that she always got with me when I was a kid. The one that told me I better back off now or I’d face the consequences of her fists.

  “You are most certainly not fine. You look like Grizzly Adams and I’m guessing she made you shower or you’d smell like a barnyard.”

  “You’re not wrong there, but I’m going to be okay.”

  “I hope so. Mom and Dad have been beside themselves with worry and then we heard you were arrested for that man’s murder. You know Dad went to the station, but they wouldn’t let him see you.”

  My eyes grow wide and then I remember that I told Ryan that I didn’t want my family to see me. I guess he kept true to his word on that. Lyla notices my momentary distraction and quirks her eyebrow at me as she continues to speak.

  “Yeah, the officer told him he wasn't authorized to allow you visitors. Dad asked him to contact Ryan, but the officer said he couldn’t reach him. Dad doesn’t think he tried. I’m guessing you didn’t do it since you’re here and with Ryan’s sister.”

  “I didn’t do it. I just found the body.”

  She nods, then looks behind her. “I’m here with some people from work, but I’ll be coming by your house later to talk to you.” Before I can respond, she leaves to go back to her friends.

  I look up to Laney. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do. I’ve been horrible to you and you keep helping me.” I stare down at my hands as I speak. “You make me feel like maybe moving on isn’t going to be so bad.”

  She beams at me. “It’s a good thing to want to get better. You’ll never forget your family, but moving on and living your life isn’t bad. I’m sure they’d want that for you.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  We eat, and make stilted small talk, and then she takes me home. I expect her to leave, but she doesn’t. Instead she follows me inside. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I don’t stop her.

  “Don’t try running me off, it won’t work.” She warns.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say with a chuckle. “Make yourself at home. I need to check on some orders.”

  I go out to my workshop and just stare in disbelief. It’s completely torn apart, and the piece I was working on has a big ding in it where something fell on it, probably during their search. I take a deep breath and get busy cleaning everything up. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear Laney come into the shop.

  “Jud?” I jump and turn towards her. “Sorry, you’ve been out here for over an hour. I wanted to be sure you were okay.”

  “I didn’t realize I was gone that long. Sorry. I’m okay, just cleaning this mess up.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure, might go quicker that way.”

  She smiles. I’m sure she’s happy that I’m not telling her to leave me alone anymore. It’s oddly peaceful with her. We work in silence for a long while before she finally speaks again.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay. I threw up lunch though,” I shrug.

  “That sucks.”

  “I’m not an alcoholic.” She starts to interrupt and I raise my hand. “I know you think I am and I will agree that I do drink too much. Sometimes, I just do it to forget my past, but I don’t have to have it to function. When I’m in here and working, I rarely drink. I’m busy, so I don’t think about it. It’s when I’m lonely or if I’m looking through pictures, remembering. I’ve gone weeks with nothing.”

  She stares at me for a few minutes saying nothing. I’m about to speak again when she finally says, “Jud, its okay to admit you have a problem. I’m not going to see you any differently than I do right now.”

  She doesn’t understand and that’s okay. Maybe I don't either. I go back and forth with myself, sometimes feeling like an alcoholic and other times not. One thing I do know for sure is that I don't want to drink anymore. That has to be good enough for now because I’m not ready to admit out loud what might very well be the truth, that I am an alcoholic.

  “I will admit that I drink too much and I will change that, but I can’t admit I’m an alcoholic, because I’m not.”

  I know I drink too much, but I can stop. I don’t have to have it, really I don’t. Maybe, I'm just trying too hard to convince myself. I run my hand through my hair in frustration. Laney places her warm hand on my arm, looking up at me with concern and not pity, like I'd expect.

  “Okay, I’ll help you anyway I can. I’m serious about being here for you, Judson, even if it’s just as your friend.”

  “But you want more?”

  She blushes. “I wouldn’t be opposed to more, but I know you aren’t ready for that. It’s honestly not about that, Jud. I just want you to get better. You shouldn’t be cooped up here all the time, only leaving to come to Mooney’s for a drink.”

  I nod in acknowledgment. She’s right on that. I do need to get out more. I need to reconnect with my family. If anything has come out of this ordeal, maybe it’s me seeing that I do need to snap out of my funk and live my life again. If I choose to move on and try a relationship again, I couldn’t pick someone better than Laney, she’s gorgeous inside and out. I could and do quite frequently, get lost in her bright blue eyes.

  “You’re right. Will you go with me to my parents’ house? I think I owe them an explanation.”

  “Of course I will, but first I think you need a haircut and a beard trim.”

  I run my hand over my unruly hair and long beard, she’s right, they’re both too long. I let out a chuckle. “Okay, I’ll let you cut it, but only if you promise not to make me shave the beard totally off.”

  “Agreed,” she says with a triumphant smile.

  She holds her hand out to me and I take it without hesitation. I’m not going to replace or forget my family, but I can enjoy the family and friends who I have with me now. I can look at my happy memories and try to accept, move past the hurt and pain of my loss. I can do this for myself, for Laney, and to honor my family.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryan

  It’s been four days since we released Judson. Unfortunately, in that time, not much has happened on the case. I’m sitting in my office going over everything and finishing up a few tasks I had yet to complete when Jessica pokes her head into my office.

  “Chief, I found Colby Jack.” I snicker and she smiles.

  “Found, as in he’s in custody?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s in I.R. one.”

  I stand and stretch my tired muscles. I’ve been sitting for far too long. I grab my cell phone and follow Jessica out to interrogation room one’s viewing room. Colby sits handcuffed to the metal table. He looks slightly nervous; although, not nearly as nervous as a person who was caught for murder should be. I watch him for a good five minutes before I enter the room. I drop the file with a hard slam on the table; he jumps. He looks up with wide, brown eyes.

  “Mr. Jack, it would seem that we have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem, Officer.”

  “Chief,” I correct. “You ki
lled one of my citizens.”

  He looks taken aback, as he swipes his dirty, greasy-blonde hair that has fallen in his eyes. “I didn’t kill nobody.”

  “Well, then I reckon you wouldn't mind helping me find out who did kill Ralph Clark.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  I flip the file open and fling a picture of Ralph across the table. I can tell that he registers recognition. “You know him.”

  “I … I didn’t know his name. I only met him once before, when I was collecting for my boss.”

  “Who’s your boss?”

  “Uh, John.” He’s lying.

  “John who?” I ask with raised eyebrow.

  He looks all around then says, “John Deer. That’s his name.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “I barely believed that your parents named you after cheese. You think I’d believe that your boss shares a name with a tractor?”

  “What?” He looks genuinely confused. The kid is missing a few screws. “Oh, uh, well, I don’t know his last name.”

  I stop messing around with him. “Where were you five nights ago? That was a Sunday,” I add when he looks confused.

  He looks like he’s thinking of a lie or trying to remember, I’m not sure. Then he sighs. “I was at home alone.” He finally relents.

  I nod. “All night?”

  “If I talk, do I get some sort of help?” He hangs his head.

  That surprises me. I was sure he wouldn’t talk. “I can see what we can work out, but you need to be honest with me.”

  I look over my shoulder and give a slight nod at the two-way mirror behind me knowing Jessica is watching. I want to be sure all of this is recorded. Colby blows out a breath then looks up at me, shaking his hair out of his eyes again.

  “I didn’t kill him and neither did that construction guy.”

  I hold my hand up. “What construction guy?”

  “The one whose house we dumped the body at.” I nod and he continues. “I really don’t know who killed him. I just know that me and this other guy were paid to dump the body, and make it look like that construction guy killed him.”

  “Who’s your partner?”

  “Oh, uh I don’t know his name. That’s how we work. Boss won’t let us tell each other our names, he gives us codes.”

  “What’s your code?”

  “I’m Six and the guy I was working with was Three.”

  I have to hand it to this boss guy not letting anyone give names. It really does pose a problem when the police are involved, but of course that’s probably why he does it. How does one identify working with someone called Three? Yeah, they don’t.

  “We found a strand of DNA on the body. So tell me, Colby, how did your skin end up under the victim’s fingernails?”

  He groans. “Stupid idiot smacked me with the dead guy’s hand.”

  I look at him skeptically. I really don’t know if I believe him or not. It’s so stupid that it sounds absolutely plausible, and this guy is not the sharpest tool in the shed. I rub my temple slightly. This case is getting stranger by the minute.

  “Is there anything about Three that you can tell me?”

  “Um, no. He’s just a normal guy.”

  “If I had a sketch artist come in, could you describe him?”

  He thinks for a moment then nods his head. “Yeah, I think I could do that.”

  I stand, taking the file with me. “I’ll send someone to talk with you in a few minutes. If there’s anything else you remember, just tell one of the officers.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Jessica asks as I come out of the interrogation room.

  “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to my office.”

  The desk in my office looks like a war zone with Judson’s case files littering the top. Something didn’t sit right with me when we spoke a few days ago. He hesitated just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to know he wasn’t being completely honest with me. Was he protecting his business partner, Grant? Sure, it may have nothing to do with Ralph’s death, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time as an FBI agent, it’s to doubt everything and overlook nothing. I spent most of last night pouring over the accident reports, pictures, and newspaper articles on the fire that took Judson’s wife and two children because something wasn’t adding up.

  The report on the fire stated that it started due to faulty wiring, but the house was only a few years old, and after some digging, I found that it had in fact passed several fire safety inspections. So faulty wiring seems to be a stretch. I even called the Fire Marshall over in Brantsville to see if he could remember anything odd or unusual about the fire. He didn’t recall anything questionable, but that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t. The fire burned a long time and it was so hot that it completely destroyed the remains of the occupants inside. According to reports, the fire was called in hours before it was actually contained. Things just didn’t make sense. If they were on the scene for hours, why was a rescue attempt not made? The Marshall had no answers for that question and seemed almost nervous talking to me at all. Something was definitely going on; I was bound and determined to find out what that was. I needed answers on what or maybe who started Judson’s house fire, because my gut tells me that if I can figure that out, I can solve this case.

  I put the files away on the fire and turn to my computer. I need to find out more about Judson’s partner, Grant McMann. He doesn’t have any social media accounts, but there is an address listed in Walnut Cove where he most likely lived as a child and one in Brantsville where he currently resides. I pull up his name in our database and find that he has several unpaid parking tickets and one DUI. There’s nothing else in the system, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been involved with something bad. It’s possible he simply hasn’t been caught yet. I think I’m going to have to take a trip to Brantsville for further investigation. I grab my cell and call Shayla.

  “Hello?” She answers on the first ring.

  “Hey, babe. You busy?”

  “Not at the moment, what’s up?”

  She sounds a little stressed, so I keep it short. “I just wanted to let you know, I’ll be late tonight. I need to go to Brantsville for this case I’m working.”

  “Oh, okay. I was just planning to have leftovers. Your mom wanted Hannah and Dylan to stay over tonight.”

  I groan, quite loudly I might add. That’s just my luck. I’d love to have some alone time with my wife. It’s been so long since we’ve had the house to ourselves, way too long.

  “I’ll get back as soon as I can. I promise.”

  “Don’t rush. You need to catch whoever did this. We’ll have other nights.” She sounds genuine enough, but I can sense a bit of sadness in her voice.

  “Babe, I’ll make this up to you. I swear.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just do your job and I’ll be here when you’re finished.”

  I love this woman. She is most definitely my rock. “Okay, but tomorrow night, I’m taking you out.”

  “Of course you are. You’re taking me to our son’s football game.”

  I growl, earning a giggle from her. “Ry, there will be time. I love you and I’m not going anywhere. Just find the people responsible so Judson can have peace. He’s been through enough.”

  “I will. I love you; I’ll talk to you later this evening.”

  We end the call. I hate when my job interferes with my marriage, but such is life. I stretch for a minute and then shove the files in my desk drawer before heading out to the front where I find Jessica sitting at her desk doing paperwork of some sort.

  “Jess, pack up. We’re going to Brantsville.”

  She looks up with a confused expression. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

  “I want to follow up on some leads. I’d like you to go with me.”

  She jumps up, ready and eager. “Oh, of course. Sorry, I was just entering reports in the computer. My brain is a little numb at the moment.”

  I chuckle
. “Ah, the exciting parts of police work.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, so exciting.”

  “Come on let’s go.”

  Jessica and I arrive in Brantsville about an hour later. The first thing I want to check on is the bar, Lyon’s, which is owned by Richard Lyon. I don’t have any reason to take him in, but I can question him about his connection to Clark and Jack. The club is open but empty when we arrive. A woman and a man are behind the bar talking.

  “Hey, sorry. We’re not open for a few more minutes,” The man says.

  I show my badge. “Not here for pleasure. I just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Sure thing, Officer. How can I help?”

  He doesn’t appear to be nervous or the slightest bit upset by our being here, but the girl quickly scurries off through a side door, which I assume leads to the back. I glance at Jessica who is watching the direction the girl went. I know she’s itching to follow her, but we have no reason to do that. At least not yet.

  “Do you recognize either of these men?” I ask, showing him a photo of Ralph Clark and Colby Jack.

  He looks at them for a few minutes. “I know Ralph. Colby comes in for a drink on occasion.”

  “How do you know Ralph?”

  “He’s my uncle. He’s a drunk. I haven’t seen him in, I don’t know, probably at least a year.”

  I hate telling people their loved one has passed, especially when he or she has been murdered, but it comes with the job and I have to do it. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your uncle is dead. He was killed a few nights ago.”

  He looks at me with wide eyes. “Oh. Um … wow. I don’t know what to say. I … uh … excuse me. I need to call my dad.” Poor guy seems genuinely upset.

  “Of course, but before you do that, can you tell me the last time you saw Colby?”

  “Sure, it was Sunday. He was in talking to the boss. I’ll let him know you’re here.” He walks through the same door the girl did.

  Jessica gives my arm a pat as she says, “I hate that part of the job.” I nod my head. It’s a necessary evil.

  We are waiting for only a few minutes when a tall, broad-shouldered man in an expensive looking suit comes out through the door his employees had gone through. He has rings on almost every finger and an air about him that says he is in charge.