The Crossing

by Serita Ann Jakes

  But whether or not he was obsessed enough to kill over that fact remained to be seen.

  “She loved that bracelet.” The principal’s hazel eyes flashed anger. Vic figured that if he thought he could take Casio, he would have come across the desk, fists blazing. But that would have sort of been like a Chihuahua picking a fight with a Great Dane. “She never took it off.”

  A shrug lifted Casio’s beefy shoulders. “He has a point. She did actually like that thing. It used to dangle on her wrist when she wrote on the board. Hard to miss.”

  “See? So don’t think just because I’m not some GQ model, that someone like BJ couldn’t care about me.”

  Victor wasn’t sure if he was admitting to a relationship with the teacher or not. But he had to cover all the bases. “So you’re the guy Blake found out about? The one she was seeing?”

  The fire went visibly out of him. His shoulders stooped. “I would have loved nothing more than to make someone jealous, but she never saw me that way. We had dinner a couple of times, but she never really cared anything about me. Not as anything more than friendship. But if I’d had my way, I would have married her.”

  “And she led you on? Took gifts from you without giving anything in return?”

  He shook his head. “I know what you’re implying about her. It’s not unusual for beautiful women to take advantage of unattractive men.” His face glowed with embarrassment and Vic’s heart softened with compassion. “But BJ wasn’t one of those women. The day I gave her that bracelet, she made it very clear to me that she valued my friendship, but as far as anything else, she didn’t have those sorts of feelings for me. She said she never meant to lead me on. Looking back, I think she was trying to tell me she was seeing someone else. But I couldn’t begin to guess who it might have been.”

  “But she still took the bracelet.”

  He smiled the sad smile of a man carrying a ten-year-old torch for a dead woman. Vic felt sorry for him. “I insisted she take it. I promised her I would only accept her friendship if she took the bracelet.”

  Casio snorted. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “Mock me if you will.”

  “I think I just did.”

  Victor scowled at the officer. “Casio.”

  “Come on, you’re not buying this, are you?” Casio stared at him and Vic frowned.

  Was he missing something? The rest of the conversation would need to take place away from the principal. Victor stood and offered his hand.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Newman.”

  As their hands clasped, the principal stood. “I hope I answered all of your questions in such a way that you might find the killer. It’s time for the man to be caught and punished.”

  Casio rolled his eyes as he stood.

  “One more thing,” Vic said, pulling a swab kit from his bag. “Would you submit to us getting a DNA sample?”

  Confusion clouded the principal’s eyes. “Why would you possibly want my DNA? Am I a suspect?”

  “None of your business, Newman,” Casio said. “Just give us the sample or we’ll take it.”

  “Hightower, back off.” If there were a group of Neanderthals still living somewhere, this guy was definitely descended from them. “We’re not going to take a sample of your DNA against your will. But since you admit to your feelings for her and that you gave her the bracelet, it would be helpful to have the sample. But it’s your choice.”

  “For now,” Casio glared.

  “I have nothing to hide. I certainly didn’t kill her.”

  To his credit, Casio finally kept his mouth shut while Vic grabbed the swab, swiped it along the inside of Newman’s cheek, and slid it into the plastic bag.

  When they reached the outside steps, he turned to Vic. “You aren’t buying that guy’s I-loved-her-so-much-I-was-willing-to-let-her-go crap, are you?”

  Irritation lit up inside of Vic. “Don’t judge everyone by your lack of standards, Hightower.”

  “Come off it, Vic. Mr. Nerdy principal, madly in love with a gorgeous, smart teacher who was way too young for him and way too beautiful anyway.”

  Vic shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he killed her. He actually seemed sincere to me, and he gave us a sample of his DNA more freely than anyone I’ve ever seen.” He started down the steps. “And you might not agree, but I’m actually a pretty good judge of character,” he said over his shoulder.

  Casio grunted and followed him to the car without saying anything. But once they pulled out of the parking lot, he started his pitch again. “Blake was at the game. He couldn’t have killed Miss Remington.”

  Victor frowned. “He wasn’t on the bus, though.”

  “No. He could have and just not played. But he didn’t ride with us. Can’t say I blame him.”

  “Then he could have driven behind you. Saw the bus was stopped by a train and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.”

  “Look, I’m telling you he didn’t do it. Okay? I would know. I was there.”

  “So were a busload of other kids. Everyone who was interviewed ten years ago said the gunman wore a mask.”

  From the corner of Vic’s eye, he could see a rapid rise and fall of the officer’s chest.

  Casio breathed out and turned to Vic. “There’s something I left out of my testimony back then. It’s relevant, I think.”

  Victor parallel parked outside the courthouse where Casio had left his truck that morning. “Okay, what?”

  “I never thought it would make a difference, but if you’re looking at Blake, you can stop right now. Because he’s innocent.”

  “You keep saying that, but how do you know?”

  “Because after I was shot, and I was on the floor of the bus. The guy walked over to me and said, ‘You okay, kid?’ ”

  “And you didn’t think that might be some important information?”

  “I was cowering on the floor like a baby. I couldn’t tell my dad that.”

  “You’d just been shot. I think your dad would have understood.”

  “No. I was shot in the arm.” He let out a short laugh. “You want to know what my dad said to me when he came to see me in the hospital?”

  “What?” Vic asked.

  “He said, ‘You mean to tell me, all you got was a bullet in the arm and you couldn’t take down a lone gunman? What kind of pantywaist am I raising here? Thanks to you, a girl is dead and the killer got away.’ ”

  “Sounds like a real candidate for father of the year.” But at least he wasn’t in the pen for armed robbery and murder. Maybe an unsympathetic dad was better than no dad. Who knew?

  “I was used to it. It’s the way he was. He fed me, clothed me, all of that after Mom walked out on us. So I could handle a little tough love.” Casio shrugged. “I know how it sounds. But he was okay. Just didn’t take anything less than the best from me.”

  “So you didn’t recognize the killer’s voice.”

  “No. But it wasn’t Blake, and it wasn’t Newman. Not that Newman couldn’t have hired someone.” He reached for the door handle. “Who are you going to talk to next?”

  “Probably Blake’s dad.”

  Casio’s eyes widened. “Unbelievable! I just told you it couldn’t have been Blake.”

  Vic stared at Casio, who in this minute seemed more like an eighteen-year-old high school kid than a grown man. He refused to be intimidated by the officer’s quick temper. “You’re probably right. And thanks for coming clean about the details you left out, but just because Blake didn’t commit the murder doesn’t mean the dad wasn’t holding a grudge. His boy lost out on a scholarship. It would explain you getting shot too.”

  “Yeah, but why would he make sure I was okay?”

  “He didn’t want you dead, just shot you in the throwing arm to ruin your chance to accept a scholarship.”

  Clearly two and two were adding up in Casio’s brain. Then he frowned again. “Yeah, but I don’t see why. Taking me out wouldn’t get Blake in. At that point the damage w
as done.”

  “People don’t usually take time to rationalize when they’re so angry and hurt they’re willing to kill for revenge. His dad was bitter about the fact that you were getting a scholarship but his son wasn’t. He told us he wrote a letter to BJ telling her off and that she should watch her back, but never sent it to her.”

  Casio rolled his eyes. “Whatever. When are you going to see him?”

  “I’ll set it up and let you know.”

  Casio opened the door, then hesitated. “Give Claudia my best.”

  “Sure.”

  “Hey, does she still have that tattoo on her back just above her—”

  “Watch it, Hightower.”

  “That used to drive me crazy.” He laughed and slid out. “I’m kidding, man.” He shut the door and pulled the keys from his pocket, walking toward his truck.

  Vic gripped the steering wheel tightly with his left hand as he slid the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. He grabbed his phone and dialed the office. “Isobel,” he said, relieved she hadn’t taken him up on his suggestion to knock off early.

  “Where are you, Mr. Campbell? That interview at Jesse’s Garage should have been over hours ago. Your wife called, and she seemed very upset. Have you checked your cell phone messages?”

  Inwardly, he gave a groan. He’d seen Claudia’s number on caller ID. “I’ll call her the second we get off the phone.”

  “Good. Why are you calling me? You must need some information.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “You’re right. I need the name and number of Blake Simpson’s dad. Might be easiest to reach him at Jesse’s Garage. Actually, could you call and set up an interview with him? He can come to the office or I can meet him. Either way.”

  “Okay, I can do that.” She paused as though writing down his instructions. “When do you want the meeting for?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Can’t be tomorrow. You have court on the Benray case.”

  “I forgot all about it.” Dread shuffled through him. He was barely prepared for the case. “Thanks for looking out for me, Izzy.”

  “You know I hate that name,” she huffed. “And I’m looking out for the citizens of this town, not you.”

  Vic chuckled as he flipped on his blinker and pulled into the flower shop. “This weekend or as soon as court is dismissed. I’ll concentrate completely on getting justice for my client.”

  “Good. Then I’ll schedule your interview with Mr. Simpson for Monday if he’s available.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, another thing. Round up the number of James Farraday.”

  “You mean Dr. James Farraday, the pathologist who did the autopsy?

  He should have known Izzy would know exactly who he meant. “Yeah, that’s the one. There was a little bit of a discrepancy in the autopsy report. I just need to verify something with him.”

  “I can get that number. Do you want a sit-down interview or is the phone okay?”

  “Sit-down, so we can go over his report.”

  “Okay, I’ll get on it.”

  “Thanks, Izzy.”

  “And don’t forget to stop and get Claudia some flowers. From the sound of her voice earlier, you better get some really good ones. No carnations.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “No roses. They’re romantic, but typical. I’d go with orchids.”

  Vic chuckled. “You got it. Thanks again, Izzy.”

  “Stop calling me that or I’m quitting.”

  “Sure you are. You only have an hour and a half if you’re going to go home early like I told you to.”

  “I’m going as soon as I get that number and give Mr. Simpson a call.”

  Nine

  My friend Kelley had an older brother who was blind. As fascinated as I was by his Braille books and audio learning devices, I couldn’t help but fear that I would wake up and be like him, finding myself in darkness. As he felt his way around the house, unaware sometimes that I watched, I wondered what it would be like to be at the mercy of creatures that existed only in shadows.

  But now that my eyes have suddenly gone dim, I find myself more terrified of the light. The moment I face eternity for my crimes against the blood of Jesus. Oh, how my heart breaks. What if I could do it over? What if I had never met the man I so freely betrayed my faith to pursue?

  Am I overreaching to say I wonder if this is how Peter felt when the rooster crowed? Or Judas … when he flung the money into the potter’s field and hung himself? Did he know that only death could erase such putrid guilt from a broken heart?

  Claudia’s sobbing has quieted. Maybe Pastor King has been able to calm her. I can still sense her next to me. She won’t leave until I do. I know that. I guess Pastor does too, and that’s why he isn’t forcing her off the bus.

  I wish I could tell her how foolish I’ve been. She is the only one who knows about him and the baby. But she’s never said a word, and I doubt she ever will. I pray she doesn’t. Because if he would kill me, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her too.

  THURSDAY EVENING

  Claudia

  Claudia was glad Emmy had asked to spend the night with Vic’s mom. With school closed for teachers’ meetings tomorrow, she could think of no good reason to refuse. Nor would she have wanted to.

  After the news that Vic had opened BJ’s case, Claudia had become a basket case. She knew he only wanted to give her closure. And she loved him for it, but her nerves couldn’t take it.

  Especially not now. She’d almost hurt Vic’s credit and reputation by her stupid buying and spending. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d discovered a letter from her mother to someone who had obviously been a lover. Her mother had actually been involved in an illicit love affair. It would have been funny if not so tragic and pathetic.

  She had been lying on the bed for the past hour, and like some sort of sick punishment, she’d pulled out the letter, reading it over and over, each time not quite believing the truth staring at her in black ink.

  My darling,

  It’s been two weeks since my husband discovered our plans to leave. What you didn’t know at the time was that I am the reason he discovered the plans. I confessed everything. I don’t believe you could have left your wife and child any more than I could have left the ministry, my husband, my daughter.

  Each time Claudia came to this part in the letter she had to stop and give a rueful laugh. Ministry, husband, daughter. Claudia, her mother’s afterthought.

  I realized we could never be happy causing so much suffering. At some point, love must take a backseat to doing what is right. To live out the rest of our lives with dignity and good conscience. If we had followed through with our plans, we might have had days, possibly weeks, of happiness, but ultimately, the pain would have caught up to us and we would have ended up resenting each other. My life is for a bigger purpose than just to fulfill my own happiness. I couldn’t bear the thought of leading anyone astray, darling. And there are those in my congregation who would never forgive me or, I fear, God. And while I could suffer the consequences for my own sin, I could never stand before God and try to explain those dear sheep I lost.

  So, dear one, we’ll never again speak of this. And you will never see this letter. I am writing it for closure at my therapist’s suggestion.

  I pray it makes me forget your arms, your lips, your gentle voice, speaking my name.

  I will miss you always,

  Liz

  Liz? Elizabeth King had allowed someone to call her Liz? It seemed so beneath her. The revelation that her mother had not only had an affair, but had clearly loved another man, came as the kind of shock that shoots through paddles on the chest. The kind her dad had experienced a year ago when he collapsed before his congregation, his heart stopping three times before he reached the hospital.

  Mother had been strong. She never shed a tear, never showed one second of weakness or fatigue, though she stayed at the hospital the whole time he was in there. When
he returned home, she had nursed him with Nightingale-esque diligence. The woman had truly been amazing. She had fielded calls, arranged for guest speakers, and fed Daddy a bland diet, except for Sunday dinner, all with a beautiful hairdo and perfect makeup.

  What a fraud.

  And Claudia was going to have to actually host this fraud party for her and pretend she believed her parents had the perfect marriage and ministry. And had for thirty-five years.

  Poor Daddy must have been so wounded.

  Tears were beginning to stream again when Claudia’s phone rang. She rolled her eyes, as she recognized her mother’s number. There was no point in letting the call go to voice mail. Mother wouldn’t leave a message and she’d keep calling until Claudia either turned off her phone, which she wouldn’t do with Emmy gone, or gave in and answered.

  “Yes, Mother?” She knew her voice was hostile. But how could she pretend? The betrayal was still too fresh.

  “You sound upset. Is something wrong?”

  Yeah, a whole lot of something was wrong. Her mother had the morals of Rahab before the scarlet cord. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “Your daddy asked me to call. Velma is going to have to step down from her position at the office and he would like you to come back for a few weeks until he finds a replacement.”

  “I haven’t worked in a long time.”

  “I know that, Claudia, but this is a favor for him. You’ll fall right back into the routine. Not much has changed.”

  “I’ll have to talk it over with Vic.” Claudia released a breath. “When does Daddy need me to start?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “I’ll let you know.” Would she ever be able to look her mother in the eye without wanting to slap her across the face? “Is that all? I think I hear Vic coming in downstairs.”

  “Downstairs? What are you doing upstairs this time of day? Shouldn’t you be helping Emily with her homework and fixing dinner?”