Sometime between his wedding day and his divorce, though, Liam had lost interest in church. Trapped in a bad marriage, he fell victim to depression and anger. God seemed irrelevant and the list of thou-shalt-nots impossible to live by. But he hadn’t come here to defend his choices, past or present. There was just something immeasurably sad about the finality of his mother’s death.
He refused to call what he had done murder, no matter how the law regarded it or how anyone else would judge it. He had released his mother from isolation and set her free. She was rejoicing with the angels instead of wandering the neighborhood, lost and confused, her memory locked away in some impenetrable mental fortress. And the money she intended to leave Liam and Colleen would go to them and not the Alzheimer’s center. She would have wanted it that way.
Taking her life was a choice, harder than he’d imagined, and letting her go would be an agonizing process.
He studied the stained-glass window behind the pulpit, which depicted the resurrection of Jesus. Where, O death, is now thy sting?
He smiled despite his mood. His mother was okay.
Liam had never told her that he stopped going to the community church in Foggy Ridge a few years after he and Lynn Ann were married there. Vowing to spend his life with that woman had been a huge mistake. She turned out to be lazy, antisocial, and about as passionate as a barn door.
Trapped by his circumstances and his vows, his life had become at the same time cluttered and empty. He stopped going to church. Stopped socializing. Stopped caring. He filled up his evenings and weekends surfing the sports channels and fantasizing about what it would be like to have a different woman in his bed. He hadn’t been much of a father either. Months and years passed and he and Lynn Ann basically lived separate lives. Though for his son’s sake, he had waited to file for divorce until after Corey was settled at college. The judge ordered Liam to pay alimony, even though Lynn Ann had never made an effort to contribute one dime of income and spent a large part of her “workday” on the phone, social-media sites, or watching soap operas. The little they each got after the sale of the house and its contents went to pay for Corey’s college.
Liam was glad to be rid of Lynn Ann, though he hadn’t anticipated that divorcing her would strain his relationship with Corey. Or leave him broke enough to have to go live with Colleen.
He looked up at the stained-glass window behind the pulpit. The risen Jesus seemed to look right into his heart. He couldn’t deny that his need for the inheritance money had influenced his decision to end his mother’s life. But wasn’t his love and concern for her genuine? And hadn’t he put an end to her suffering as painlessly and quickly as he could? Surely Almighty God could see that.
Liam shuddered. He should have known better than to come in here, thinking that he wouldn’t end up feeling guilty.
A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump.
“Son, are you all right?”
Liam looked up into the kind dark eyes of Pastor Austin Windsor. “I–I just need a moment.”
“Did you hear back from the coroner already?”
“No. That’s not it.” Liam cracked his knuckles. “I have good memories of my mom here. Colleen told you we grew up in this church. I went here until my ex-wife and I were married, but that was a long time ago. A lot of water’s gone under the bridge since then.”
“And yet, you’re here now.” Pastor Windsor sat beside Liam and seemed to study the stained glass. “Is there anything I can do for you … I mean, besides doing the memorial service for your mother?”
Liam shook his head. “I just need a place to gather my thoughts of her.”
“Your mother’s at peace now.”
“Well, if anyone deserves it, she does.” Liam shifted his weight.
“Try not to imagine how she died, son. Picture her in heaven—whole and happy.”
“I don’t let myself dwell on the how,” Liam said. “Colleen’s the one who’s obsessed with it. I’m just glad Mom’s free.”
The pastor sat erect in the pew, his arms folded across his chest. “I don’t pretend to know how it feels to lose your mother this way. But if the coroner determines foul play was involved, as Colleen believes, I do hope forgiveness for the killer will be your goal, even if it takes time. Bitterness will eat you up, and it won’t change anything.”
“I get it,” Liam said. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Good.” The pastor stood and put his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “It’ll truly be an honor to do the memorial service for Dixie. She was a lovely woman and a wonderful Christian example until the Alzheimer’s got so bad. We can rejoice that she’s with the Lord. If you ever want to talk, Liam, remember my door is always open.”
“I appreciate that.”
Pastor Windsor turned and walked up the side aisle and disappeared through a doorway.
Liam rubbed the back of his neck. He had a whopper of a secret to protect and shouldn’t open up with anyone right now. With his mind so cluttered, he might say the wrong thing. Or get his story mixed up. The worst was over. He just needed to let things play out.
t
Sheriff Virgil Granger took off his Stetson and hung it on the wood coatrack in his office, then stood at the tall, narrow window and looked out at the grounds in front of the Raleigh County Courthouse. The red maples still had green leaves, but it wouldn’t be long before autumn’s spectacular fashion show beckoned countless fall tourists to the region. The traffic jams would be a small price to pay for the boost to the local economy.
The light turned green at Main Street and Commerce, and a young woman in hot-pink running shoes jogged across the intersection pushing a baby carriage. Old Melvin Mayfield lay sleeping on one of the wrought-iron benches, his knees bent, the bill of his blue fishing cap down over his eyes.
Virgil glanced at his watch. It was after three. He had expected Billy Gene and Jason to be back by now.
A knock at the open door caused him to turn.
Kevin walked in and handed him a manila envelope. “The coroner just sent this over.”
Virgil hurriedly opened the envelope and pulled out the cover letter and scanned it from the top down. He stopped on one particular paragraph and read it aloud. “A number of antemortem bruises were noted on the victim’s arms, wrists, hands, and ankles, consistent in individuals taking blood thinners. No injuries or defensive wounds were found. Significant bruising was discovered on the victim’s back, but was clearly the result of hypostasis from the body being stored in a supine position.”
Virgil moved his eye to the bottom of the letter. “After careful reanalysis, I stand by my original conclusion that the cause of death for Dixie Berne was drowning. Water in her lungs proves she was alive when she entered the water, but I found nothing to suggest she was forced, nor any physical signs that she had been assaulted, poisoned, or drugged. The toxicology findings will be needed to confirm this. However, proceeding with a full autopsy would not alter my finding that Dixie Berne drowned nor would it produce any physical evidence that a crime had occurred. Therefore, it is my professional opinion that a full autopsy is unwarranted.”
Virgil exhaled and looked up at Kevin. “Well, there we have it. We can forget the autopsy.”
“You’re not satisfied?” Kevin arched his red eyebrows.
“Are you?”
Kevin smiled. “You know me, Sheriff. I don’t let things go that easily. Just because the victim didn’t have injuries or defensive wounds and wasn’t drugged isn’t conclusive proof that her drowning was an accident. The kid’s statement holds a lot of weight and shouldn’t be thrown out because the coroner can’t find anything incriminating. But unless we find something that is, we may be spinning our wheels.”
“Agreed,” Virgil said. “I’m eager to hear what Billy Gene and Jason discovered on the riverbank where Jesse said he saw our person of interest g
et out of the water.”
“Well, let’s hope they found something. The victim’s jewelry hasn’t shown up at any of the pawnshops.”
Virgil hung up the phone after talking with Jill Beth. He could almost smell the aroma of pot roast as he stood, prepared to call it a day. He heard a knock at the door and hoped it wasn’t a problem.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Billy Gene and Jason entered, their faces flushed, their hair damp with sweat.
“You finished your investigation?” Virgil sat, motioning for them to do the same.
“We swept the area.” Billy Gene took a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Bagged the usual stuff: bottles, bottle caps, aluminum cans, junk-food wrappers. Kleenex. Also chewing gum and cigarette butts. An empty snuff can. An old whisk broom. And some other stuff we couldn’t make heads nor tails of.”
“Any distinguishing footprints or tire tracks?” Virgil said.
Billy Gene and Jason both shook their heads.
“The dirt was dry packed on the riverbank,” Billy Gene said. “Didn’t find anything worth making a cast of.”
“We did see where a vehicle’d been parked recently,” Jason added, “in the tall weeds under a shade tree. No tire tread marks but some fresh oil and we got a sample.”
Billy Gene nodded. “Also saw the flat rock that juts out over the water, where the Cummings kid said he’d been fishing. It was right where he told you, Sheriff, about fifty yards across the river. Bottom line: we didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, at least not that we could tell right off. We’ll have to wait for the lab to tell us whether any of it’s got DNA.”
“What about the victim’s daytime caregiver?” Jason said. “Was Deputy Mann able to catch up with her this afternoon?”
Virgil nodded. “He’s putting his report in the computer now. Said Doris Olsen was very cooperative, but she didn’t offer us anything new. However, she did confirm our feeling that Liam and Colleen Berne were extremely devoted to their mother, and also concurred that Dixie Berne didn’t have the stamina or the presence of mind to walk to the river by herself.
“We all agree that since her jewelry was missing, the idea that she was robbed makes sense, even though the coroner didn’t find a mark on her to substantiate that theory. And then this afternoon, we got back the coroner’s final report after examining the body a second time. He stands by his initial findings and thinks an autopsy’s unwarranted.”
“Well, shoot,” Billy Gene said. “If an autopsy wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel, where do we go from here?”
Virgil placed his hat on his head. “Well, I’m going home and having dinner with Jill Beth. I suggest you two go home and get some rest. I’m not sure yet how to proceed. But I’m not convinced that this was an accidental drowning.”
Chapter 10
Kate stood on the gazebo on the back grounds at Angel View Lodge, arm in arm with Elliot, the western sky ablaze with streaks of lava orange, hot pink, and golden purple. A great egret, its white wings catching a glint of the sunset’s rays, moved effortlessly across nature’s stage with the grace of a ballerina. Kate was vaguely aware that Elliot had said something and resisted for a moment leaving this state of total contentment.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was lost in the sunset. What did you say?”
Elliot squeezed her hand. “Just that dinner was terrific, as always. Which reminds me, we need to get busy working on that pasta cookbook.”
Kate counted the last Angel View rental boat pulling up to the pier. “I don’t want to rain on everyone’s parade, but I’m not eager to take on another job that has to be done. I need time to work up to it.”
“Maybe not, if we use the sauce you just finished canning. Pick out the recipes you want in the cookbook. Buck and I and the kids will do the rest.”
“I suppose I can do that much. Abby convinced me to write down all my pasta recipes last year, and we’ve tested them all. I’m just not sure I can handle anything else on my plate right now.”
Elliot was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, Kate. You make it look so easy that I forget how much pressure there is running this place and being a single mom. Especially one as involved with her kids as you are.”
“I don’t know how to be anything but involved,” Kate said. “Sometimes to a fault.”
“A fault?”
Kate nodded. “Like this witness situation with Jesse. I’m probably overreacting to be so uptight, especially since the coroner didn’t find anything to support that his teacher’s mother was murdered. But when Virgil called this evening, I could tell by his tone of voice that he’s not satisfied her drowning was an accident. I don’t want Jesse caught up in a murder case. He’s been through enough.”
“Your feelings are perfectly understandable. I had never experienced that protective instinct until I fell in love with your kids. I’d do about anything to keep them out of harm’s way.”
“I’m sure they sense that. Abby and Hawk think you’re the greatest. And Riley and Jesse think you hung the moon.”
Elliot laughed. “You didn’t tell them differently, did you?”
Kate turned and looked up at him. “Not a chance. Where do you think they got the idea?”
Elliot stroked her hair, then slowly, ever-so-gently kissed her mouth, his deep, longing passion sending a tingle through every fiber of Kate’s being. She trusted the self-control he had shown during all those years Micah was missing. But the intensity was building in her, too, making it increasingly difficult to sidestep the question of where they wanted to take their relationship.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.” Kate clasped her hands behind his neck and looked into his eyes. “Sometimes it scares me how much. I never thought I could love any man after Micah.”
“I thought the same thing after Pam died. She’d been my first and only love. Some part of me died with her.”
“Exactly. And yet …” Kate laid her hand over Elliot’s heart. “We both seem to have found the courage to love again. And I do mean courage.”
“I doubt anyone who’s experienced a deep loss jumps back into a relationship without some soul searching.” Elliot brushed the hair out of her eyes. “For me, it happened slowly, over time. I didn’t set out to love you. It just evolved. But now that I do, I can’t imagine my life without you. And I believe you’re as much a part of God’s plan for me as Pam was.”
“I wish I had your perspective,” Kate said. “I still have trust issues with God. Oh, I love Him and want to serve Him. But He allowed some agonizing suffering in my life, and I struggle with fear that He might do it again.”
Elliot pulled her into his arms. “Sweetheart, everything He allows He will give you ample grace to endure. How sad it would be if we didn’t let ourselves love again out of fear of loss. Why mess up the joy of today by speculating about what might happen tomorrow? Most of what we worry about never happens.”
Elliot was right. Kate knew that in her head and had even given similar counsel to Abby and Hawk. Maybe it was time to take her own advice.
She looked out at the last of the simmering glow on the horizon. “We told the kids we were coming here to watch the sunset. We probably should head back before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.”
“They know exactly what’s taking us so long.” Elliot smiled and tilted her chin. “They think it’s sweet. So are we going to smooch some more, or not?”
Kate giggled and yielded herself playfully and tenderly to this man to whom she had entrusted her heart, but not her future—a strange dichotomy she was more comfortable accepting than trying to understand.
t
Virgil sat in the glider on his front porch, his navy uniform shirt unbuttoned, a cricket choir filling the darkness with the familiar chorus that used to put him to sleep as a kid. Th
e night breeze carried the happy sounds of neighbor kids playing hide-and-seek and the intoxicating scent of gardenias that hung in baskets along the eaves. Garfield rubbed against Virgil’s ankles, meowing at the top of his lungs.
Virgil took a sip of lemonade. “I don’t know why you pester me. I told you I’m a dog person.”
The fat orange tabby jumped up on the glider and nestled next to him and began to purr.
Virgil smiled. This stray tomcat was growing on him, probably because Jill Beth was so fond of it. The cat’s purring was calming and made the day’s pressures seem irrelevant in the momentary peace that settled over him. He closed his eyes and rested them in the quiet, thinking if he could bottle the feeling, he would be a rich man.
He heard the door open, and Jill Beth came outside and sat on the swing, Garfield content to stay put.
Jill Beth laughed. “Something’s come between me and my man.”
“You’ve created a monster,” Virgil said. “Sir Feline here seems to think the world revolves around him.”
Jill Beth picked up Garfield and set him on her right, then moved over next to Virgil and slipped her arm in his. “Better?”
“Much.”
“I wanted to finish our dinner conversation,” she said. “So have you actually closed the drowning case?”
Virgil shook his head. “It’s premature. It’s possible that something our investigative team put into evidence will yield useful information.”
“But you said the coroner didn’t find anything to suggest she was murdered.”
“That’s just one piece of the puzzle, darlin’. There’s more to consider.”
“Anything you can tell me about?”
“Not yet,” Virgil said. “But I’m not convinced the drowning was an accident. I owe it to her kids to find out.”
“You will. You always do.” Jill Beth squeezed his hand. “I forgot to tell you, I ran into Elliot Stafford at the gas station this afternoon. He’d been to a board meeting at the lumber company and was going to Kate’s for dinner. You should have seen the glow on his face. That man is smitten.”
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