Thirty and a Half Excuses

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Actually,” I squatted next to him. “He hasn’t done anything. It’s one of those wrong time and place situations.”

  He pressed his lips together. “He seems to get into a lot of those pickles.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Nope, not since he left for that preacher’s house this morning.”

  “Do you know if Bruce Wayne had any dealings with Weston’s Garage?”

  David’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t tell me he’s mixed up with those guys again.”

  My heart sunk. Again. So he had a history with them. “He left Merilee’s with a couple of them this morning.”

  He shook his head. “I told him to stay away from those guys.”

  “What did he do for them?”

  “Little jobs, mostly errands. He was in training to rise in the ranks.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Sighing, he held out his palm. “Look, you can’t just join one of those places. You have to work your way up, prove you’re worthy. I’m surprised your boyfriend didn’t tell you about it. He knows the drill. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Because he’s not here, and I need information now. When was the last time Bruce Wayne associated with them?”

  “About the time he was arrested for murder. When he got out, Crocker had been arrested.”

  “Do you think he’s working for them again?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. He was really trying to go down the straight and narrow, but it hasn’t been working out too well.”

  I stood, brushing my hair from my face as I tried to figure out what to do next. “If you see him, will you ask him to call me? Tell him that I’m worried sick about him, and I want to help.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I noticed that. Why do you want to help him so bad? What’s in it for you?”

  “Maybe I want to help him because I like him.”

  A knowing grin spread across David’s face.

  “As a friend!” I added. “I’ve got more man troubles than I can handle. I sure as hades don’t need any more.” I looked around the store. “Do y’all sell cell phone charger cords? I lost mine.”

  “So you can take Bruce Wayne’s call? We sure do…”

  What in tarnation was up with people linking me to men in whom I had no interest? I rolled my eyes. “Where are they?”

  He tilted his head to the left. “Aisle four.”

  “Thank you.” I hurried over two aisles, trying to process what David had told me. The fact that Bruce Wayne had dealt with Weston’s Garage in the past was a good sign. He might have actually gone with them willingly.

  The menagerie of cords hanging in front of me was driving me crazy. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse, trying to match it to the cord ends on the chargers. Why did there have to be so many?

  “We’re in deep trouble.” I heard Jonah Pruitt say. My eyes widened as I looked around to find him. When he spoke again, I realized he was one aisle over.

  I grabbed the cord that seemed to fit my phone and followed his voice as it moved down the aisle.

  “The police were at my door this morning accusing me of murder. I thought this was under control.” He was silent for several seconds, and I couldn’t be sure if he’d stopped or was still moving. Finally he spoke again, several feet ahead of me. “Well, that doesn’t help… I had her right there within my reach before I got interrupted. When I finished with the detective nonsense, she was gone.”

  Was he talking about me? I was desperate to hear more, but he was at the end of the row and headed my way. I spun around to run the other way, but Jonah rounded the corner and spotted me before I could make good on my escape. He cast his gaze down and mumbled, “I’ve got to go.” Then he stuffed his phone into his pants pocket. He’d changed out of his shorts and T-shirt into a polo and khakis. “Rose? What on earth are you doin’ here? Aren’t you supposed to be working on my yard?”

  “Well…” I stalled. “We never came up with an approved estimate, so I put Bruce Wayne on another job today.” The lies were rolling off my tongue today like butter off hot corn on the cob.

  “I was disappointed that you were already gone when I finished my interview with Detective Taylor.”

  “Sorry, I had another job to bid.” I shifted my weight. “What did Detective Taylor want?”

  He waved his hand as though my question was nonsense and he was batting it away. “Nothin’. They just wanted to know if I noticed any suspicious behavior when I was at poor Gina’s house. I guess I have another funeral to officiate.”

  “Did he mention how she died?”

  His mouth twisted as though he was thinking about it. “Now that you mention it, he didn’t.”

  Despite being in the middle of all this mess, I still didn’t know how any of these women had actually died. “I ran into Christy Hansen this morning.”

  His smile fell. “Is that so? And how is she?”

  “Angrier than a cat tossed into a bath. She’s lookin’ for you, and it’s not to discuss Sunday’s sermon.”

  He gulped. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t sure why I had told him. He probably deserved her wrath, but if she shot him, I didn’t want to live with the guilt of knowing I could have helped prevent it.

  “Well, I’ve gotta get going.” I pointed my thumb toward the registers.

  “Wouldn’t you know it? I’m done too.” He was carrying a basket with a loaf of bread and a block of cheddar cheese. “We can check out together.”

  Oh yippee.

  We walked to the registers together, Jonah staying closer to me than necessary.

  David looked up from stacking his cans, watching us with curiosity.

  Placing my cord on the conveyor belt, I pulled out my wallet, purposely avoiding Jonah’s gaze. “If Monday’s your day off, how come you planned for the big revival to start tonight?”

  Jonah released an exaggerated sigh. “The Lord may have had a day of rest, but my work never seems to be done. I wanted to get in five solid nights.”

  “Did you have revivals at your old church? I’m not sure where you were before you moved to Henryetta.”

  He stiffened. “Why the sudden curiosity?”

  I wasn’t sure, but if Jonah had anything to do with these deaths, maybe he’d swindled old ladies before. Maybe it was why Joe had warned me about him. The more I knew, the better my chances of getting out of this—and of helping Bruce Wayne. But Jonah wasn’t going to just tell me for the sake of telling me. I’d been giving him the brush off, and I needed to be nice to him. I tried to give him a coy smile, but I wasn’t sure if it worked or just made me look constipated.

  The cashier leveled her gaze at me. “That will be $18.79.”

  I handed her a twenty, turning back to Jonah. “You know more about me than I know about you. That hardly seems fair.”

  He relaxed, resting his shoulder on a display rack. “I was in Texas before here. Homer, Texas. Ever heard of it?”

  I shook my head and took my change from the cashier. “Can’t say I have.”

  Laughing, he put his two items on the belt, but he looked nervous. “I’m not surprised. Most people haven’t.”

  “So why move to Henryetta?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He continued to look down at his merchandise. “It seemed like a nice town, ready for a spiritual revolution.”

  “You sure have added a lot of church members in a short time.”

  “I told you, it’s our loving, accepting attitude.”

  The cashier handed me my bag.

  Jonah looked up, and something in his eyes caught my attention. Desperation. “Rose, will you wait a second and let me walk you to your truck?”

  “Uh…” I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, but Jonah seemed to have been forthright in his answer…well, as forthright as he seemed capable of being. I hated to lose an opportunity to gather more information. “Okay.”

  The cashier frowned in disapprova
l.

  I stood at the end of the aisle. “I have to say I was impressed with your service yesterday. And I’m speechless you put me in your video.” I was sure he’d take it as flattery.

  “So you’ll consider coming back?”

  I tilted my head with a shy smile. “I’ll think about it.”

  A grin spread across his face, and he looked almost genuine, like he wasn’t a televangelist, just a happy man. He paid for his food and snatched up his bag, walking outside with me.

  “Have you had lunch yet?” he asked.

  “I…” I hadn’t, but I needed to look for Bruce Wayne. But my stomach betrayed me, growling at the mention of food.

  “I know you’re a busy businesswoman, but you need to take time to eat. Besides I really need to talk to you about something. Lunch will be my treat.”

  Jonah was dropping his guard, and I had a chance to get more answers. Maybe he knew where Bruce Wayne was. “I can’t stay for long.”

  He pointed to the park at the end of the street. “How about we grab something and go sit in the shade.”

  Being out in the open made me feel better, even if it was the park I’d escaped to the night of Momma’s death. “Okay.”

  Jonah stopped at an authentic Mexican food restaurant that served takeout. I had recently noticed it next to the caf� I’d eaten at that fateful night months ago…

  Everything always seemed to be swinging me back to Momma’s death. Would it ever be behind me?

  We ordered tacos and drinks, and then walked to the park, sitting on a bench overlooking the small pond. A small breeze kicked up, blowing off the water and bringing the temperature down several degrees under the tree branches.

  “I love this park,” Jonah said, handing me a taco. “I like to come here when I’m stumped on a sermon or I need to think.”

  “Do you get stumped very often?”

  He laughed. “More often than you’d probably think.”

  I took a bite of my taco, surprised at how good it was. “I’ve never eaten at this restaurant. I didn’t even know they were here until a week ago.”

  “Yeah, it’s new. It opened a few weeks before your nursery, but they’re Mexicans and they’re pretty small, so they didn’t get the same attention as you and Violet did with your business.”

  My hand stopped mid-air.

  Jonah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I hope you don’t think I’m begrudging you the publicity. But I understand how it works; citizens with deep roots are the pillars in a community like this one. The transplants live on the fringe.”

  “You don’t seem to be doing too badly.”

  He shrugged. “True. But I’ll never fit in here. I think that’s part of the reason I’m drawn to the outcasts and strays of society. I want to give them a place where they feel welcome and at home.”

  If Jonah Pruitt was giving me a propaganda speech, he was doing a mighty fine job. Sitting under the shade trees, he seemed different. The TV personality had faded away, leaving a man who looked a little beaten down.

  “What was Thomas doing at the church on Friday?”

  He took a bite, then swallowed. “I started an outreach program for teens on the edge. Kids who are getting into trouble, but not past saving.” He turned to me. “Not that anyone is past saving; it’s just easier to turn some back into productive members of society than it is with others.”

  “Oh.” I was starting to rethink my assumptions about Reverend Jonah Pruitt.

  He hung his head over for several seconds, looking very much like a defeated man, and then he sat up with a sigh. “It’s been a rough week.”

  “You had two members of your church die in one week.”

  “Three in two weeks.” He put down his food, suddenly looking nervous. “I know you helped Bruce Wayne, and that you were instrumental in putting Daniel Crocker in prison.”

  Leery, I rested my hands in my lap, wondering what he was getting at.

  He focused on something on the other side of the pond. “This has happened before.”

  “What’s happened before?” And then I realized what he was saying. “People dying? Is that why you left Homer?”

  He nodded. “There were two deaths, but they were spaced months apart. No one noticed the connection to me, but it was why I left. I needed to make sure no one else got hurt.”

  I sank back into the seat, my voice hardening. “Did they leave their money to you too?”

  His eyes grew wild. “I didn’t know Dorothy Thorntonbury did that, Rose. You have to believe me. I was as shocked as Christy was when I found out.”

  “Did the others leave their money or houses to you?”

  “I have no idea. No one has come to me about it yet.”

  “So other than coming to your church, what’s the tie to you?”

  He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I spent time with them.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He squirmed. “Older women tend to get lonely…”

  I scrunched my eyes closed. “Eww. I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “No!” Jonah shouted. “Not like that! I just spent time with them is all. They like the company, and I like the cooking. Sometimes we play cards or watch TV.”

  “So why would you eating Sunday dinner with them get them killed?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Were the women in Homer both older?”

  He shook his head, looking down. “No, the first one was an older woman whom I’d visited many times. I was quite fond of her.” He paused. “But the second was younger. She was my age.” He cleared his throat. “We’d begun spending time together.”

  “You two were dating?”

  He nodded.

  “And so you left? Just like that? You saw a pattern between two dead women that the police didn’t, and you just left? Didn’t you want justice for your girlfriend?”

  “She wasn’t my girlfriend. We had only gone out a few times.” He hunched over, wringing his hands. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand.”

  He kept his gaze lowered. “There’s a reason I help troubled youth on the fringes of society. I was there once, and I have a criminal record to show for it. Jail time included. When I got out, I vowed to go the straight and narrow. If the police found out… let’s just say I’d be their top suspect.”

  “Aren’t you already their top suspect?”

  He cringed. “If they find out, I suspect I’d get a trial like Bruce Wayne’s. That’s why I was checking into you and how you helped him.”

  What he was not saying hit me like a two-by-four. “You want me to help you.” I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m not a private investigator, Jonah.”

  “You helped Bruce Wayne.”

  I stood, facing the water. “That was different.”

  “Not really.”

  “It is. I knew he was innocent.”

  “I’m innocent. I swear it.”

  Something in his desperation made me believe him, but I still didn’t quite trust him. “If I agree to help you, you have to tell me everything. The truth.”

  “Deal.”

  This was crazy. I helped put two murderers behind bars and now people expected me to solve crimes. What on earth were we paying the Henryetta police for?

  I sat down on the bench and wiped my hands on my jeans. “Okay, but first I’m going to try something, and it’s going to look and sound crazy.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “Okay.”

  I grabbed his hand and closed my eyes. This was insane. But what if Neely Kate was right? What if I could use my visions to see things that could help rather than hurt? Besides, if Jonah thought I was a loon, he’d send me away, and I could get out of this guilt-free.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “You asked me if I knew things… Well, I do, and this is how. But you gotta keep quiet.”

  “Okay.”

  What did I want to know? If he was innocent, but also if he kne
w anything that would help me find Bruce Wayne and figure out who the killer was. I concentrated on Jonah and his time in Henryetta and how he’d come here from Homer. I waited for a good ten seconds, and just when I’d decided nothing was going to happen, a vision appeared in my head.

  I was in a dark room. When my eyes adjusted, I saw it was a bedroom. The sound of heavy breathing filled the quiet, and it took me half a second to realize it was coming from me.

  I moved to the door and called out, “Who’s there?”

  When no one answered, I grabbed a baseball bat from under the bed and opened the door, my hand shaking so badly it took several attempts.

  “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s nothing,” I mumbled over and over in a low chant as I tiptoed down the hall. Stopping at the entrance to the living room, I slowly spun around. I didn’t see anything so I let out a loud exhale, my shoulders slumping in relief until I heard a low voice from the dark shadows of the dining room.

  “I brought you a little present.”

  I nearly dropped the bat as I spun around to see who had called out. My heart beat against my ribcage when I saw a dark figure in the shadows, standing behind someone who was tied to a kitchen chair with rope.

  The shadows hid the hostage’s face, but I could tell that she was wearing what looked like a silky nightgown dress. Her feet were bare. Her hands were on her thighs, and the moonlight lit up the diamond ring on her finger. She had to be unconscious because her head was leaning forward, her long dark hair covering her face.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked in a whine.

  The person with the hood held a gun to the woman’s head. “You’ll thank me later.” Then a loud sound filled the room, and the woman’s body jerked as blood splattered against the wall. I shouted my alarm, and the murderer handed the gun to me, to Jonah. “Take it. You have work to do, Jonas.”

  The vision faded, and my eyes flew open. “Someone’s going to kill a woman in your kitchen.”

  His face paled. “How do you know that?”

  The vision had sent an adrenaline rush through my body, but now it crashed and I started violently trembling as though it was thirty degrees outside and I was in a wet swimming suit. My stomach rebelled, and I leaned over the other side of the bench, vomiting onto the grass.