by Dara Girard
She tapped the ashes of the cigarette in her new Lincoln Memorial ashtray. “Rennie didn’t tell me.”
“Don’t say—”
She shook her head. “No, that Prince fellow didn’t tell me- either. It was some woman. I don’t remember her name. One of his wives, maybe, or a friend. But she said Rennie had betrayed the trust. That she had tried to stop them. She’d left the main house and moved into one of the trailers and that had angered Emmerick. No one could think of any other reason for her behavior except your leaving.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I don’t believe we were talking at the time and she was already dead.” She reached for his beer; he moved it out of the way.”Come on, just a sip.”
“No. Keep talking.”
“Personally, I’m not sure that is real helpful now.”
“Did the woman say how Rennie tried to stop him?”
“She tried to go to the police.”
“The police?” That was definitely a break from community code. What would have prompted that? What would she have on Emmerick that the police could have used?
The phone rang; Bertha grabbed it before he had a chance to.
“Yes?” she said. “Okay, meet you there.” She hung up and stubbed out her cigarette.
“You’re going out again?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
She shrugged. “Just a man.”
“Yes, I know what he is. I worked that out myself. What’s his name?”
“You don’t need to worry.”
Clay folded his arms and shook his head. “Amazing how history repeats itself. You claim to come all this way to see me and in less than two weeks you’ve already met a man.”
Bertha took out her compact and applied foundation. “It’s not like that.”
“Why won’t you tell me a little about him? I would like to know what guy is so enamored with you that he has you out almost every night, calls at three and five in the morning, and has you coming home with less money than you left with. I thought the man was supposed to pay. At least some of the time.”
She snapped her compact closed. “I’ll be back late.”
“You can’t keep this up. You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Bertha stood and grabbed her handbag. “The same one you are.” She opened the door. “You can’t stop him.”
“Watch me.”
“No time, love. Bye.” She left.
Clay stared at the door, then took a long swallow. He refused to be upset. Bertha could do what she bloody well pleased—he wasn’t her guardian and she was old enough to take care of herself. He had other things to think about anyway. Clay set his beer down and swore. A life he had once prided himself on keeping so simple, so easily managed, was now so complicated. He had a brother-in-law who felt betrayed, another whose health worried him, a half-sister who wouldn’t speak to him, a visiting mother, a case that continued to make no sense, a partner that had turned into a friend, and a girlfriend. He actually had a girlfriend. How had this happened?
He rested his head back and ran a tired hand down his face. In moments like this, he wished he hadn’t let Laura go. He could have used her silly tricks or bright chirping right now. But he’d never see her again. She was probably part of someone else’s life now, bringing joy into it, and they’d be smart enough not to let her go. He wouldn’t regret his decision. It wasn’t like him and he still had better things to do with his time. He had to think. He had to focus.
He unpacked the puzzle of the hawk Jackie had given to him. It was the best exercise in creating order out of chaos that he could think of. It calmed his mind. He loved the search for the right piece, slowly seeing the picture come together. If only he could do the same with this case. In essence, it was over. He’d discovered who the invisible man was. But as Mack had mentioned, he couldn’t let it go because it was about revenge. Clay couldn’t let it go until he avenged Emmerick’s silent victims.
First, there was Rennie, whose death may not have been due to a beating that had gotten out of hand or an accident on the stairs, but intentional murder. Then there was Melanie, the only one of the HOPE clients who spoke about the Careless Rapture Ministry. Althea was supposedly a victim, though she had just disappeared, and now there was Claudia, who had killed herself only days after sounding so hopeful to her aunt.
Clay fitted a piece that formed the hawk’s wing. Emmerick hadn’t called Jackie in a while. He couldn’t figure out why he had started in the first place. Harassment wasn’t his style. Plus, Jackie wasn’t the type of woman he liked to target.
He shook his head, frustrated. He had the pieces and they didn’t fit together—he’d have to start from the beginning. Mr. Hamlick’s death and the clients canceling. He believed the key started there.
Clay quietly worked on his puzzle, thinking about his setup with Mack. Getting Emmerick to talk to new recruits would be easy, but not the end. He knew there was another piece he was overlooking and he needed to find out what. He needed to know more about the company. Suddenly Clay thought of an idea and the one person who could help him. He groaned.
***
Kevin was enjoying a dip in the sauna with two attractive dancers when his assistant told him Clay was on the phone. He excused himself, then answered. “I don’t believe it. You’re taking me up on my offer?”
“No.” He sighed with regret. “I’m afraid I could use your help.”
“No need to flatter me.”
“I’m not trying to. Jackie told me you’re not donating.”
“No. I---”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s your money and that’s your business. I just want you to pretend that you might be.”
Kevin frowned. “Pretend?”
“Yes, let them think that you will. I don’t care how you convince them, just do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see if certain pieces begin to fall into place.”
Two days later, Clay received an expected call from Jackie. “Faye is beside herself,” she said excitedly. “Someone really big and influential is thinking of donating, isn’t that great?”
“Wonderful,” he said, pleased with Kevin’s fast work.
“The thing is, he wanted to take her out and since she’s sort of awkward and wants to really impress him, she invited me along. I thought we could make it a double date.”
“A double date?” He frowned. “Isn’t that something where two women chat while the men look at each other and do nothing?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to make sure Clayton Dubois is available.”
“Clayton Dubois?”
“Yes, the other man you’re seeing. Remember, she doesn’t know who I really am. That night I am Clayton Dubois, a reporter who writes about nonprofit organizations for Outline, a local newspaper. We have been seeing each other casually since we met in the office, after we both discovered an interest in pygmy art.”
“I don’t know anything about pygmy art,” she protested.
“Does she know that?”
“No.”
“Good. We’ve had about two dates that were very uneventful. One was at a Japanese restaurant, where you had your first taste of tofu. The next date was a lunch date at a little deli off of Sixteenth Street. We don’t remember the name, but the food was delicious.”
“Why does all this matter?” Jackie asked, doubtful.
“If you readily supply information, people tend to believe you. Add details and they’ll trust you.”
“You’ve really thought this through.”
“Lying takes a certain amount of planning. Besides, deceiving people is part of my job.”
“Well, it’s not part of mine,” she said, becoming anxious. “I hope I don’t slip and say something I shouldn’t.”
“Talk about the company and you won’t have to worry. Oh, and by the way . . .”
“What?”
“Expect
a big surprise.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jackie had expected a lot of things when she and Clay walked into the lush elegance of the Silk Garden restaurant, but nothing would have prepared her for Kevin sitting next to Faye. Jackie turned to Clay and jerked her head in the direction of the pair. “Did you know about this?”
“Aren’t you happy to see him?”
“No. And I find it disturbing that you are.” Clay had a different, more aggressive energy. Everything about him tonight was disturbing.
He took her arm. “Come. They saw us. We might as well say hello.”
They approached the table and everyone introduced themselves. Jackie glanced at Kevin but managed to keep up the charade. After a light chat and appetizers, Faye excused herself and went to the restroom.
“Don’t you women usually do that in pairs?” Clay asked, once Faye had gone.
“Not tonight,” Jackie said. She looked at Kevin accusingly. “I thought you told me you wouldn’t donate. You said you didn’t like her shoes.”
“I changed my mind when I thought about her face.”
“This had better be about business.”
Kevin raised a brow. “It is. I consider all women my business.”
Jackie shook her head, determined. “I won’t let you do this. I can’t let you toy with her. She’s a kind woman, just as dedicated to HOPE Services as I am. She is committed to its success.”
Kevin grinned. “Tonight I hope to see how committed.”
“Don’t you dare.” She turned to Clay, exasperated. “Say something.”
Clay sipped his water. “Remember to wear a—”
“That is not helpful!” She scowled at him.
“What is the worry?” Kevin said. “I am just enjoying the company of an attractive woman. I may have misjudged her and I am interested in donating to your company. Is that a crime?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure. What are you up to?”
“Ooo, this sounds like a heated debate,” Faye said, returning to her seat. “What have I missed?”
“Jackie was just sharing all the good HOPE Services has done over the years,” Clay said.
“Yes, she’s very devoted to our mission.” Faye smiled kindly. “I knew she was perfect from the first interview and we have so much in common. We both lost our parents and are devoted to helping other people. We balance each other out. I tend to think one way and she thinks another. She is definitely my right hand. I’m thrilled to have her as part of our little team.”
Clay nodded. “And things have been running smoothly?”
“Yes.”
“Except for a few cancellations.”
Jackie stiffened, wondering what he was up to.
Faye merely shrugged. “Yes, a few clients have chosen not to continue with our program, but that is to be expected.”
“It is my understanding it happened in a quick succession and has tapered off rather abruptly.”
Faye thought for a moment, then said, “There seem to be two times a year when people make big decisions. First, the New Year brings a lot of change. People make resolutions to change their lives, sometimes in little steps and sometimes dramatically. Second, spring is also a season of renewal. I can’t explain why there was a sudden pattern, but I can only guess that clients decided to make life changes for themselves.”
“HOPE Services, I assume, is made up of more than you two.”
“Yes, we have a psychologist, counselors, social workers, and health educators that help with the design of the program. And of course we have the food service team that delivers to our homebound clients. Our office handles the administrative aspect. Most of the work is done out in the field.”
The waiter approached with their various dishes. Clay took a bite of his curry shrimp and said, “You have an administrative assistant, correct?”
Faye nodded, liberally spreading soy sauce on her rice. “Yes, Patty Jayson is a great help to us. She was there when Latisha was in charge.”
“So she knows the organization well?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Very well.”
“Why did you hesitate?”
She sighed. “Patty has good intentions, but sometimes she doesn’t know the proper decorum.”
“She told me that a client, Claudia Meeks, had committed suicide.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. A disclosure like that is unsuitable behavior. I’m not surprised she told you about that. However, I prefer to keep things like that within the office.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“It was a tragedy.” A flash of sadness crossed her face. “The lives of our women are hard and at times their despair leads them to desperate acts.” She managed a smile. “It’s not common, fortunately.”
“Jackie told me your clients may have been targeted by a cult.”
She glanced at Jackie. “I admit to disregarding that theory until one of our clients was heavily entrenched in it. It seemed Patty wanted to improve the lives of our clients by relating a message from the cult to them. I am pleased to share that we have not heard of any other such cases.”
“Can we talk about something more interesting?” Kevin said.
“I thought you wanted to know more about the program,” Clay said.
“Yes, but I am feeling neglected.”
“Donate a nice amount,” Jackie replied, “and you’ll never feel neglected again.”
“His donation is important to you?” Clay said.
“Donations are key to a nonprofit.”
Faye agreed. “But especially after Mr. Hamlick’s death.”
“Yes, his passing hurt us.”
“Both emotionally and financially,” Faye said.
Kevin said, “Stop being a reporter for a moment so we can enjoy our meals.”
“I am enjoying my meal, but I can’t ignore this opportunity.”
Faye frowned. “Opportunity?”
“If I can garner sympathy for this Claudia woman, I can work an angle that may tug a few heartstrings and open a few pocketbooks. Perhaps I could write that due to a cut in funding, HOPE Services had to face the possibility of reducing services, which lead to the death of Claudia Meeks.”
“But you could get into trouble,” Jackie said.
“Why?”
“Because that’s not true.”
“How do you know that?”
Jackie lowered her gaze, wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I spoke to Claudia’s mother.”
Faye looked at her, startled. “Her mother? I thought her mother was dead.”
“I’m sorry, I mean her aunt. She raised her.”
“I still don’t understand. Why you would have an exception to Clayton’s story?” Her eyes widened with eagerness. “Think of the publicity. We could use something like that.”
“Her aunt may see it and not agree with what is printed. Couldn’t she sue for libel or something? She said Claudia didn’t sound depressed, that she had sounded hopeful. We can’t write a story and say she was otherwise.”
Faye looked so unhappy, Jackie felt bad for dashing her hopes.
“I could work on a different angle,” Clay said.
“Don’t worry about an angle at all,” Kevin said. “I’m here now and I am seriously interested in donating. Woo me.”
***
“I think it went well,” Faye said as she and Jackie touched up their makeup in the ladies’ room.
“I’m sorry about Clayton.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t worry. That’s how reporters are. Always seeking a story, and he only meant to help us. I’m very excited about this, I think he can give us the right amount of publicity. And if not, with Mr. Jackson’s help we wouldn’t have to worry anymore.” She powdered her nose, then dropped the compact in her purse. “He’s taking me home.”
Jackie tried not to grimace. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”
Faye looked at her, surprised. “You sound worried.”
“He has a reputation.”
“I know about his reputation.”
“Then be careful.”
Faye suddenly grinned. “You sounded like a big sister just then. I never had one.”
“Me neither.”
She hesitated. “You know, your sister-in-law gave me an idea. I know we went to the funeral together and we’re here now but we’ve never gone out just to have fun.” Her gaze fell. “I’m not saying I’m the most exciting person around, but why don’t I take you to that estate sale I was talking about? You could get some great clothes. It would be fun and, to be honest, I would love to give you some tips. You could come by my place for lunch. I always go on a full stomach, ready for the hunt, and then we’ll drive over together. What do you say?”
Jackie smiled, thrilled with the idea. “Sounds like fun.”
***
“Why are you grinning like that?” Clay asked Jackie in the car.
“I think I’ve made a friend. Faye and I are going out.”
“Remember to take a bouquet of roses and a bottle of wine.”
Jackie playfully hit him. “This is serious. My first female friend outside of the family. That’s a big step.”
“Hmm. I liked her.”
“You sound surprised.”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I am.”
“I’m glad you like her. Most men don’t seem to.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true. She doesn’t date much and when I mention her name they seem less than enthused. Her date with Nicolas went only so-so and when I mentioned her to William he nearly shuddered. I think she’s just awkward with men.”
“Or perhaps she doesn’t like men.”
Jackie thought for a moment, then her mouth slowly fell open. She vehemently shook her head. “No, that’s not it.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do,” she said firmly.
He grinned. “You just don’t like that it doesn’t fit your fairy-tale world.”