Saints & Sinners Ball

by Stacy M Jones

  “Just tired,” Hattie offered.

  “Did you see Matthew Inslee at the party?” Jackson asked. “I remember his name on the guest list, and Dan saw him but he didn’t say anything about being there when he showed up after the murder.”

  “He was there for a time,” Hattie started, “I remember him, but no idea where he went until he showed up here. If I recall, Inslee dressed differently than when I saw him earlier in the night.”

  “It’s funny you say that. Harper and I were wondering the same thing,” said Jackson.

  “I didn’t see him there that night,” Tucker interrupted. He was trying to get Hattie’s attention again, but she refused to turn in his direction. Tucker shouted, “If one of my prosecutors were there, I find it odd he wouldn’t have told me or came over the say hello!”

  Turning to Jackson, Hattie offered, “I can get you the guest list so you can follow up with people to see if Inslee was seen later in the evening, if you’re comfortable doing that.”

  Jackson agreed he’d take the guest list and run down any leads. Hattie was going to go back and talk to Roxy. As they were finalizing a plan, Harper’s cellphone rang. She held it up for them. It was Dan Barnes. “You should answer that,” Hattie told her.

  Harper answered and spoke to Dan briefly and then hung up. “He wants to meet this evening. I said I’d meet him for dinner. He wants me to go over the magazine contract. I can also ask him some questions.”

  “Do you need me to go with you?” Jackson asked eagerly.

  “I can handle it alone. I know what Lizzie said, but I don’t think we have any reason not to trust Dan right now.”

  Jackson got up and walked to Harper. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I know you and Hattie think this guy is fine, but there’s something he’s hiding.”

  “Oh boy, he’s got a crush on her,” Tucker added, laughing.

  Hattie shot Tucker a quick look to pipe down. “Harper, I trust Dan, but I think Jackson is right. If someone close to Tucker is suspecting him, you need to be cautious. Where are you meeting him?”

  “We were going to meet at his office, but then he suggested dinner. He suggested Heights Taco & Tamale. I assume that’s close?” Harper had a worried look on her face. Hattie didn’t mean to cause any more stress on her, but caution was warranted.

  “It’s right around the corner. You can probably just walk to your date,” Jackson interjected sarcastically.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Harper knew Jackson was angry with her. She suspected he was just jealous. While Harper understood that Dan Barnes may very well be a suspect, she hadn’t heard any valid reason yet to give in to that suspicion. But it amused her to no end that Jackson was jealous. Dan was smart, attractive in a bookish sort of way, and had gushed over her work. Another time, maybe, Harper could see herself dating him.

  Harper wore her honey-blonde hair down in soft waves, applied a touch more makeup than she wore during the day and had even put on a simple knee-length green dress and heels. When she came down the stairs, Jackson was still there chatting with Hattie. He gave her a once over.

  “You catch more flies with honey,” Harper said to counter his look.

  “Make sure you don’t catch anything else,” Jackson bantered back.

  Hattie looked between them and laughed. Harper could tell her aunt was amused by the two of them. She suspected Hattie really enjoyed having both of them around. Harper was worried about Hattie’s strange behavior that afternoon. It was almost as if she were interacting with someone that wasn’t there. Harper knew how silly that seemed, but something was off.

  As Harper walked into the restaurant, she felt a bit overdressed. She saw Dan sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the room and walked over. Dan got up and gave Harper a quick hug, which she thought was strange. Harper tried not to hug back like a New Yorker, all stiff and board-like. She didn’t usually hug strangers though. Harper wondered if Jackson had been right and this was more of a date than she assumed.

  “You look great,” Dan said a little too eagerly. “I ordered some chips and cheese dip to start, but if you’d like something else, feel free. Everything here is delicious.”

  Harper took a moment to view the menu and made her selection. When the waiter came back, they both ordered. As a glass of water was set down in front of her, Harper asked, “Do you have the contract?”

  Dan dug through his bag and produced a short two-page contract. Harper read it over. The pay was reasonable and the work was as they discussed. Harper pulled a pen out of her purse, signed it and gave it back to Dan with only one request. “Make a copy for me.”

  Dan agreed. “I’m really glad you’re coming aboard to help. The magazine is in rough shape. It was mostly just events and parties and social occasions when I took it over, but that isn’t keeping advertisers. I’ve been trying to change up what we cover. I was hoping to take more of a turn and branch out, but I wasn’t sure what would work.”

  Over the next hour, Harper and Dan ate their dinner and had a lively, animated conversation about the magazine business. Harper gave Dan some great suggestions including upping the online content, pulling in more business features on people in the community and new businesses, and adding features about restaurants and food trucks, given how much of a foodie town Little Rock is.

  Dan was taking notes as she spoke. For Harper, it felt great to get back in the swing of work. Losing Charlotte was a serious blow. Being able to use those skills to help revitalize Rock City Life was a challenge she was both interested in and ready for. The only catch was Dan’s connection to Tucker. She wanted to address that with him head-on.

  As dinner came to a close, Harper looked at Dan across the table and said with concern in her voice, “I really hope we can have a great working partnership. We seem to have similar ideas, and I think we can really give the magazine a new life, but there’s one thing I have to know.”

  Dan looked at her with his eyes wide in anticipation. She continued, “I’ve heard some rumors that you didn’t get along with Tucker Reese. Was there something that happened between you?”

  Dan took a deep visible breath. He let it out slowly as he leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t get along with Tucker,” he admitted. “Even when I was the editor of the newspaper, Tucker was all bluster. He wasn’t one to give interviews. He kept his attorneys from giving the newspaper and the public the information they had a right to know. I fought Tucker and his office a lot. That’s not really a secret to anyone. It was my job.”

  “I heard you might have argued with Tucker over a secret investigation into Fr. McNally. Is that true?” Harper asked directly.

  What Dan had described was common in just about every community across America. Harper knew that much. People loved the media when they were running the story they wanted. Anything to the contrary, they were seen as the enemy. Harper also knew in her gut there was more to this story. Harper watched Dan fidget in his seat.

  “Look, Dan,” Harper continued. “I’m a New Yorker so I’m a straight-shooter. I thought you were, too. So, what’s the story?”

  Dan hesitated for a second and then admitted, “Tucker was working on something big in the months leading up to his death. I had gotten an anonymous news tip that Tucker was working on a case connected to the parish that would create a massive scandal. I tried to get information from Tucker a few times. He threatened me physically and legally if I told a soul. I told him I’d keep it quiet, but still, he shared nothing. We argued several times. I pushed hard, threatened him in return.”

  Dan stopped speaking for a moment. He seemed to regroup. “It’s my job as a journalist. Nothing more, nothing less. I respected Tucker’s need to keep it quiet while he investigated, but my worry was that he’d sweep it under the rug like they have done with other cases with well-known people in this city.”

  Harper looked at him across the table. She wasn’t sure how hard to push. Harper asked gently, “What did you do about it?�
��

  Dan threw his hands up. “Nothing. I didn’t do a damn thing. Now he’s dead, and we’ll never know.”

  “You didn’t kill him or have anything to do with his death?” Harper took a sip of her water and watched him over her glass.

  “Is that what you think?” Dan snapped with shock in his voice. “How was I going to break a story from a dead man? That makes no sense.”

  “You didn’t answer the question,” Harper pushed, and she waited. She felt so far out of her depth asking these questions, but once Harper committed to taking on something, she wasn’t backing down.

  “No, of course not. I didn’t kill Tucker,” Dan denied. Then with an edge of sadness in his voice, he added, “I thought we could be friends, Harper. I thought we would work great together. And tell me if I’m wrong, but I thought there was an attraction here. I can’t work with someone who thinks I’m a killer.”

  Harper hated that she felt bad for him. Dan seemed like a nice guy. Nothing jumped out to her that Dan could be a killer, but after her marriage, blind trust was nearly impossible.

  “I’m sorry,” Harper said sympathetically and meant it. “I had to ask. I hope you can understand that, and now that I know, I hope we can move past it.”

  “Did that guy Jackson think it was me? He didn’t seem to like me very much.”

  Harper smiled. “Jackson is definitely suspicious of you. But no, it came from other sources.”

  “I know even if I ask, you’re not going to tell me who, right?”

  “You know I can’t, and if you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t either.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Before Harper left the restaurant, Dan had asked if she wanted to work on a story related to Tucker’s death. Harper wasn’t sure that was a good idea. She gave a non-committal answer and left. On the walk back to Hattie’s house, Harper’s cellphone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize so she let it go to voicemail. It rang again and again. Whoever was calling was persistent.

  Finally, on the fourth attempt, Harper answered and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was a call from the prison where her ex-husband Nick was serving a two-year sentence. Before she realized it, the caller connected her to Nick.

  “Harper, are you there?” Nick said on the other end. His voice was strange. Not like it had been when they were married. It took her a few seconds to realize it really was him.

  “Why are you calling me?” Harper barked.

  “Baby, don’t be like that,” Nick crooned. “I know what I did was horrible and you probably can’t ever forgive me. We were married for all those years, I have something to tell you.”

  Harper wanted to hang up the phone. The last weeks with Nick flashed before her eyes. The meetings with the FBI, dealing with Carmine DeLuca, and Lola, Carmine’s daughter. “You have two minutes. And then don’t ever call me again.”

  His voice happy and excited, Nick blurted out, “I’m getting out soon. They are cutting my time for good behavior. I ratted out some guy in here so they are transferring me to county lockup. I should be out in six months. When I’m out, I want to come see you. I heard you aren’t in Manhattan. Where are you?”

  Harper had known when he was sentenced that Nick would eventually get out of prison, but she thought that would be in years and not months. She stood firm, “I’m not seeing you under any circumstance.” Then Harper hung up without saying another word.

  Harper walked the rest of the way to her aunt’s house. She felt distracted, her mind a swirl of memories, some that once had been good but now tainted. She was numb from Nick’s call. Harper never wanted to see him again, but she was worried he’d figure out she was at Hattie’s. Nick had never visited Little Rock with Harper, but he knew how much Hattie meant to her.

  Harper was so lost in thought that as she approached Hattie’s house, she was nearly hit by a car speeding down the road. It passed through the open gates that marked the entrance to the parish. Harper couldn’t see who was in the car, but it piqued her curiosity. Instead of going into her aunt’s house, she went to the side lawn that connected to the backyard. When Harper reached the clearing, she hesitated to see if she heard voices. She didn’t, just heard the car running. Harper crept quietly down the clearing to the edge of the parish property.

  Peeking through the bare tree branches, Harper watched as a man got out of the car. He opened the back door and helped what appeared to be a girl get out of the car. She looked big, with a round swollen belly, probably eight or even nine months pregnant. Harper watched as the priest came out. Fr. McNally looked around as he walked to the car. Harper quickly stepped back into the trees to make sure she was out of sight. He didn’t seem to see her.

  Fr. McNally handed a thick envelope to the man. He looked inside and then put it in the car. The priest escorted the girl with the man into a small brick building that was set back behind the house that Fr. McNally had said was his residence. The three entered the simple square space that was probably no bigger than a large shed. It had no windows so Harper wasn’t able to see what was happening. They were in there for a long time. Harper wasn’t sure what she was witnessing. Worried she was going to get caught, she turned and ran up the path to the house before they came out.

  Once inside the back porch, Harper called for her aunt. Both Jackson and Hattie came running into the kitchen. Harper was surprised to see Jackson there, but pleased that he was.

  A bit out of breath from excitement and fear, Harper asked, “What’s that building behind where Fr. McNally lives?”

  “It’s their storm shelter,” Hattie explained. “It was built in the sixties as a nuclear fallout shelter. There’s a bunker underground. You can access the stairs that take you down into the bunker from that building. The bunker is huge. It runs under nearly their entire property. It’s used as a tornado shelter now for the local neighborhood. Why?”

  Harper finally caught her breath. “When I was walking back from dinner, a car came speeding down the road. It nearly hit me. I was curious so I went down to the clearing. I saw Fr. McNally and a man bring a very pregnant girl down there. Fr. McNally also handed him a thick envelope.”

  Jackson looked to Hattie. His face a mix of shock and concern. “How old would you say she is?”

  “I couldn’t really see her face. I’m not sure.”

  “We should call the police,” Jackson advised, pulling out his phone.

  Hattie laid a hand on his arm to stop him. She countered, “We have no idea what’s going on. They could just be giving the poor girl a place to stay. There are beds down there, entire rooms. There are bathrooms and showers. It has full electric and plumbing.”

  Harper protested, “Something’s not right, Aunt Hattie. You tell me to use my intuition, and I’m telling you, it’s not right.”

  “Calm down,” Hattie assured her, patting Harper on the shoulder. Hattie’s voice steady and sure, she added, “Listen here, you call the police now, they could say anything. They don’t know we saw anything. We need to wait and find out more.”

  Jackson agreed. “I think Hattie’s right.”

  “You may be right,” Harper said looking at Hattie, “but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hattie was dreaming that a dark force was covering her face trying to suffocate her. She thrashed around and used her hands to push it off of her. She couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but it was too strong. She was growing weaker. It was consuming her. Right before it fully took over, a dog’s loud, incessant barking jolted her awake, saving Hattie from the nightmare.

  Hattie sat right up in bed, her back drenched in sweat. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. The dogs barking wasn’t her dream. It was real and happening that second. It alerted Hattie that something was very wrong. Sparkle and Shine were docile and quiet each night. Hattie’s bare feet hit the floor, and she was on the move. Harper’s door was still closed, and Hattie called her name. She didn’t wait to s
ee if it woke her. Hattie bounded down the stairs, moving faster than most people thought an old lady could move. The dogs grew louder.

  Hattie hit the landing and opened the small hall closet. She pulled out an old wooden baseball bat that had been her husband’s, and she advanced towards the kitchen. The dogs were standing at the kitchen door that opened to the porch and were barking like mad.

  Hattie approached the door. As she did, Harper called her name as she came rushing to Hattie’s side. “What’s going on?” Harper whispered.

  “I don’t know, but I think someone is out there,” Hattie indicated as she reached down and calmed the dogs. They continued to bark.

  “Let me go see,” Harper offered. She moved in front of her aunt and shooed the dogs to the side. Hattie pulled on the back of her shirt to stop her. Harper waved her off. She said with annoyance in her voice, “We can’t stand here all night. If it’s someone, maybe I’ll scare him off.”

  Hattie watched as Harper unlatched the door and stepped onto the enclosed back porch. Hattie stepped out behind her and immediately saw a dark-hooded man in the window of the door that led outside. He locked eyes with Hattie. Both of them froze. Then he took off. Before Hattie could stop her, Harper took two fast steps and unlocked the porch door, flung it open and bounded down the steps after him.

  Hattie stood there paralyzed not sure what to do, concerned for Harper’s safety. That’s when she saw Jackson run in the same direction as Harper and the man. She also saw the note attached to the door.

  It was direct and to the point. Stop or die.

  Hattie immediately rushed back inside and called the police. The 911 operator said they were sending a car immediately. They asked Hattie if she wanted them to stay on the line. She didn’t. She went and stood at the back door.

  Several minutes later a half-dressed Harper and Jackson came walking towards the porch from the backyard. They both looked cold and angry. “He got away,” Harper scowled as they walked up the steps.