Fire Walk (A Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud Mystery Book 12)

by Melissa Bowersock

  ~~~

  THIRTEEN

  The late afternoon sun slanted down Main Street from the west, giving the town a golden glow but also revealing the myriad insects that darted about in the humid air. Lacey waved a few of those insects away from her face as they walked toward the church.

  “Do churches close at night?” she wondered out loud.

  “I don’t know, but it’s not five yet, right? He should still be there.”

  One of the front double doors was standing open. Lacey stepped through into the dim interior, her pack safely under her arm. The church was empty, but the door to Hillenbrand’s office was also open. She and Sam headed directly for it.

  Just as she reached his door, the reverend appeared in it, almost colliding with her.

  “Ulp.” She put out a hand to splay across his chest, halting his collision course.

  “What? Oh, I thought I heard something. It’s you two.”

  Lacey noticed he didn’t apologize for almost running her over. She didn’t either.

  “Yes, we’ve got a few more questions for you. Do you mind?” She smiled brightly and moved past him to take a seat. Sam was right behind her.

  “Well, uh, it’s not really…”

  “We’ll keep it short,” she said. “We know you’re busy.” She pulled a sheaf of papers from her pack as he reluctantly took his own seat behind the desk. He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands across his belly.

  “What we’re wondering,” she started, “was if you have records here about the Reverend Calder? We found out that he moved to New Hampshire a few years after this church was built. We’re just wondering if he was transferred, or if it was his choice to move or what?”

  Hillenbrand regarded her suspiciously, his eyes boring into hers. After a silent moment, he stirred. “I would doubt we would have any detailed records from that long ago.”

  Lacey smiled sweetly. “You doubt it? But you don’t know for sure?”

  He was rigidly still for a heartbeat, then exhaled slowly. “No. We don’t have anything that far back.”

  “No? You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Records for a pastor follow him, if he’s still actively ministering, or go to church offices if he’s not. There’s nothing here.”

  “Oh.” Lacey frowned down at the papers in her lap. “That’s too bad. Because we’ve found pretty compelling evidence that he had a sexual relationship with a sixteen-year-old congregation member.” She looked up. “Harmony Stowe.”

  He didn’t react, but his eyes were hard. “What evidence?”

  “Well, for starters, he had her committed to Hillhaven over in Westbrook. He told people here she was emotionally unstable, violent even, but the fact is she was pregnant. She had her baby at Hillhaven. She named the girl Claire Gabrielle.” Lacey paused. “Reverend Calder’s middle name was Gabriel.”

  Hillenbrand set one elbow on the armrest of his chair and held his head in his hand, his fingers splayed across his cheek and beneath his nose. “That’s not proof. That’s conjecture.”

  Lacey shrugged. “Well, it’s not incontrovertible,” she allowed. “DNA testing could certainly confirm it.” She was gratified to see the reverend’s eyes widen in alarm, then narrow. “But what we also found was that after Calder left here and went to New Hampshire, he was arrested for molesting a fifteen-year-old girl.” She pulled that story out of her sheaf of papers and laid it on the desk, facing Hillenbrand.

  He didn’t look at it right away. He glowered at Lacey, then, with an audible sigh, leaned forward to read the headline. That was all; his eyes only scanned the single line before he pushed the paper back toward Lacey.

  “So?”

  “So?” Lacey repeated. “So, we’re just wondering if the church knew he was a predator. If they knew about his relationship with Harmony and didn’t report it to the authorities. If they knew his predilection for young girls and just... passed him on. To other communities, and other unsuspecting young girls.”

  Hillenbrand leaned back heavily in his chair, rocking it backward. “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said in a monotone. “Now, I really am pressed for time, so I need to cut this short.” He stood up and motioned toward the door. “If you don’t mind?”

  Lacey sat very still for a few seconds. The silence was brittle. Then she reached for the article, replaced her papers in her pack, and stood up. “Of course,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”

  He didn’t see them out.

  ~~~

  FOURTEEN

  Lacey and Sam pushed through the door of the diner and went directly to the booth in Abby’s section. She saw them and bustled over with menus.

  “Hi,” she greeted them. “How are you doing?” To an outsider, her cheerful attention wouldn’t seem unusual, but Lacey noticed the questions in her eyes, the hopeful but unsure smile.

  “Great,” Lacey said. “We had a very productive day.”

  “Oh?” Now Abby smiled broadly. “Ooh, I can’t wait to hear. What can I get you to drink?”

  The three of them kept to a normal customer-waitress exchange. Lacey knew when Abby could take time, she would. In the meantime, none of them wanted to jeopardize her job by chatting too much. She took their dinner order and served them in between seeing other customers.

  After eating half her fish and chips, Lacey leaned her head on one hand and studied her husband. The “discussion” with Hillenbrand had both infuriated her and not surprised her a bit. She knew Sam felt the same, but he was better at keeping his emotions contained than she was. To watch him very casually cut and eat his grilled chicken, she’d never know what was going on in that quiet, thoughtful brain.

  “So,” she said finally, “what’s our next move?”

  Sam cut another small piece of chicken and chewed thoroughly. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “We can’t change what happened, but knowing the whole story gives us a better idea of what was behind Harmony’s attack on the church. I just wish I knew what happened to the baby.” His dark eyes met Lacey’s green ones. “You know if we don’t have the complete story, the releasement may not work. I think what I’d like to do is walk again. See if I can pick up any more clues.”

  Lacey nodded, stirring her iced tea. It was not unusual for Sam to need a second walk—they’d used that tool on several cases—nor was it unusual for him to glean new information on a second walk. Once they knew the story behind the ghost’s anguish, they could often make more sense of the original impressions he’d gotten.

  “I agree,” she said. “It seems like we’ve collected as much data as we can through research. A second walk might pull all the pieces together for us. When we get back to the room, I’ll give Beau a call, just to let him know where we are in the process.”

  Abby came by to check on them and had a few minutes to spare. “What did you find?” she asked in a low voice.

  Lacey glanced around to make sure the cook wasn’t watching. “I’ll spare you the details,” she said. “Harmony wasn’t committed for any emotional problems. She was pregnant. And we think Calder was the father.”

  Abby almost dropped the pitcher she was using to refill their glasses. “Oh, my God! You’re kidding!”

  “Nope.” Lacey shook her head. She tapped her pack. “Got it all here. Documents, newspaper articles, the works. It’s a pretty sad, sordid story.”

  “Oh, my,” Abby said. “That’s… that’s terrible.”

  “Yes, and unfortunately it doesn’t stop there. Calder and his family moved to New Hampshire where he was later arrested for having an inappropriate relationship with a fifteen-year-old.”

  Abby’s eyes widened in quiet shock. She set the pitcher down, but gripped the handle tightly.

  “Despicable,” she hissed through clenched teeth. She glanced around to monitor the diners. “Do you think you could go tell my granny when you’re done here? I know she’d want to know.”

  Lacey looked to Sam and he nodded. “Sure,” she s
aid. “We can show her and your mom all our information. They can decide for themselves what they think of it all.”

  “Thank you.” Abby looked like she might say more, but finally shook her head, picked up the pitcher and turned to go. Her mouth was set in a sad but resolute line.

  Lacey sighed. “It’s a weird thing bringing people the truth,” she said. “Obviously it’s what we have to do to release Harmony, but revealing the dark underbelly of a small town like this sure has an effect on the townspeople.”

  “It does,” Sam agreed. He scanned the diner, the other people enjoying their dinners. “I’m guessing everyone in Meadeview was perfectly happy not knowing the whole story behind the haunting. For most of them, it was probably just a curiosity. The truth, though, the whole story, ends up being an indictment of sorts: what went on, what was not seen or reported, what was allowed. It’s a little like the Germans who carried on with their lives in towns not far from the concentration camps, just on a much smaller level.”

  “As long as they’re not the ones directly affected, they can close their eyes to it.”

  “Exactly. And of course, for the church, there’s a much larger reason not to admit the truth.”

  “Infallibility.”

  Sam nodded. “Any organization that sets itself up as being divinely inspired—being above human failings—is not going to happily admit to those failings within its ranks.”

  “Hillenbrand,” she snorted.

  “Hillenbrand.” Sam pushed his plate away. “Well, I guess the good news is that only a select few are going to be burdened with the truth. And it all happened so long ago, once we clear that lot, it’ll all be forgotten again.” He shook his head. “Harmony’s the only one we need to deal with. She’s the only one still trapped by the lie.”

  “Trapped by the lie,” Lacey repeated. “That’s for sure.” She sipped her iced tea and grabbed her pack. “Shall we go talk to Winona and Hazel?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Abby made a quick call so her mother and grandmother were expecting them. The four of them gathered around the maple table in the kitchen where Lacey could share all the documents she’d printed out. Piece by piece, she recounted their journey and brought out the corroborating evidence.

  “That poor girl,” Winona said. She touched the documents tentatively, her head shaking slightly, but whether from palsy or sadness, Lacey couldn’t tell. “I never would have thought…”

  “No one did,” Lacey said. “Who would ever think the pastor would lie about it? Or why?”

  Hazel lifted her eyes to Lacey, her brows slanting down. She tapped the articles. “This is unconscionable. That he would do what he did, then slander that poor girl. And the church, allowing him to continue on…”

  “To be absolutely fair,” Sam said, “we don’t know if the higher-ups in the church knew the whole story or not. Hillenbrand wasn’t eager to find out or to share that with us.”

  Hazel tutted. “I’ll bet they weren’t eager to find out back then, either. Unconscionable.”

  Winona touched Lacey’s hand. “What will you do now?”

  Lacey turned her hand and held Winona’s. “We’ll set Harmony free. That’s all we can do. The rest is, well, water under the bridge.”

  Winona stared down at their clasped hands for a quiet moment, then lifted her face to Lacey. Her milky blue eyes were starred with moisture, and silent tears made their halting way down her face, tracks zigzagging from wrinkle to wrinkle.

  “I feel ashamed,” she said in a choked voice.

  “Ashamed? But you couldn’t know. There was nothing—”

  “Ashamed of the boys who threw rocks at her. Ashamed of the way my friends and I giggled and whispered about her. Ashamed of people like my father who used her as an example.” She drew in a deep, heavy breath, then exhaled, her thin chest deflating. “I feel ashamed for the entire town. For those who had no shame.”

  Lacey felt the prick of tears behind her own eyes. She squeezed Winona’s hand—gently—and smiled sadly.

  “That’s a heavy burden to bear. But the fact that you are willing to carry it is admirable. I don’t know how God tabulates things, how He/She tracks credits and debits, but just the fact that you’re willing to take that on… I just feel like that goes a long way towards atonement for the town. Whether anyone else ever knows about it or not.” She gripped the old hand tighter. “God will know.”

  Winona’s chin quivered and the tear tracks renewed themselves. She nodded and pulled her hand back to draw a kerchief from her sleeve.

  “You free that girl,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “You free her.”

  Lacey nodded. “We will.”

  ~~~

  FIFTEEN

  Over breakfast, Lacey pondered what the day might bring. They’d meet Beau at the site at nine a.m. and Sam would walk. What he felt—or didn’t feel—from Harmony would determine if they could free her or not. Lacey was confident they could, but the added weight of Winona’s entreaty made her slightly more nervous about it. She would hate to let the old woman down.

  Just as she was brushing English muffin crumbs from her lap, her phone pinged. Sam was finishing up a banana.

  “Email from Malby at the police station,” she said. “He’s got information for us.”

  “Really?” Sam was surprised. “This should be interesting.”

  They ditched their Styrofoam plates and walked across the street.

  Officer Bowen was behind the counter. As soon as he saw them, he dashed to Malby’s office and called the senior officer out. Malby appeared, hitching up his pants, and strode to the counter.

  “Good morning,” Lacey said amicably. “You found something for us?”

  Malby shook his head once. “No. Nothing.”

  “Oh.” Her smile faltered. “Well, that’s okay. We got what we needed.” She took a step away from the counter.

  “How? By badgering the citizens of Meadeview? By spreading false rumors?”

  Lacey turned back slowly. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You’ve been bothering people. Spreading lies. Digging up the past. I don’t think we want your kind here in our town.”

  Lacey stiffened. She felt more than saw Sam step up close beside her, his arm brushing hers. She deliberately pulled in a slow, steadying breath.

  “We have a job to do here,” she said with a tight jaw. “And we’re going to finish it.”

  Malby shook his head. “Not in this town. You can collect your gear and go.”

  Lacey forced herself to calm, even though her blood was surging through her veins. “Has someone filed a complaint against us?”

  Malby glared at her. “Yes. You’ve been making baseless claims against Reverend Hillenbrand, against the church—”

  “Against Hillenbrand? What claims?” Even as she reacted, she had the dizzying feeling of being in a dream. A movie. Small town police didn’t really act this way, did they? It was so cliché.

  “Spreading lies about past preachers. About a church cover-up. That’s slander.”

  Lacey gripped her pack. “We’ve got evidence. Documents.”

  “I’ve seen ‘em,” Malby said.

  Lacey’s eyes widened. “How?” They hadn’t left any documents with Hillenbrand. Who else had seen them? Abby and her family.

  The woman in the hotel.

  “I want to see the complaint.”

  Malby’s turn to falter. “What?”

  “I want to see the complaint. We have that right.”

  “Better do it,” Sam said. Lacey glanced over and saw he had his phone up and was filming the altercation. Silently she cheered him.

  “Put that away,” Malby growled.

  “I’ll bet your buddies back at the LAPD would enjoy seeing this,” Sam said to Lacey. “Probably go viral.”

  Malby blanched. “LAPD?”

  Lacey stood up straighter. “Yeah. I used to work there.”

  The officer’s look of alarm morphed into suspic
ion. “Used to? Why’d you quit?”

  “Decided to go into business for ourselves. Now, do you have a signed complaint or were you planning on tossing us into a cell while you concocted one?”

  Malby narrowed his eyes at her. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned to go. “Fine. Just gather up your stuff and get out of town.”

  “We’re not leaving.”

  He rounded on the counter, his temper barely in check. He leaned forward, mouth open, but then remembered the phone in Sam’s hand. “Put that away.”

  “When we’ve resolved this, I will,” Sam said.

  Malby’s eyes darted from one to the other. Lacey knew he was calculating his odds of success. Not high.

  “All right,” he said gruffly. “We’re done.”

  Lacey kept her eyes on the officer but saw Sam lower his arm. She did not, however, see him turn off the video function.

  “Bowen,” Malby growled at the junior officer, “arrest these two.”

  “For what?” Lacey exploded. Sam stepped back, phone raised.

  “Cohabitating without the benefit of marriage,” Malby said. “This is a moral town, a God-fearing town. We have laws against immoral behavior.” He leaned on the counter again, confident of his position this time.

  “We’re married, you idiot.” Lacey didn’t even try to disguise her contempt.

  Malby scoffed. “No, you’re not. You registered under two different last names.”

  The woman in the hotel again. Was she on the PD’s payroll, or just a willing snitch?

  “I kept my name,” Lacey bit off. “Women can do that now, you know.”

  He lowered himself to the counter on his elbows. “Prove it.”

  Lacey laughed once without humor. “How many people do you know carry a copy of their marriage certificate with them? Do you?”

  “Can’t, can you?” he smirked. “Bowen, cuff ‘em.”

  The junior officer looked uncertainly at Lacey. She snarled at both of them.

  “Pull up marriage records for Arizona,” she said in a tight voice. Bowen hesitated. “On your browser. Do it.” She reeled off the web address of one of the sites she often used in her research.