Through the Fire

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Through the Fire Page 9

by Diane Noble


  It was a shot in the dark, but she tried it anyway. Holding her breath, she typed in “Los Angeles Times,” clicked on the Web site, and keyed “J.B. Packer” into the search engine.

  The little bar at the bottom of the screen shot little dashes back and forth, and the hourglass icon showed the search was in progress.

  At least that was something. All the other tries had ended in three seconds or less.

  Then articles and photographs materialized on her screen. Kate sat back, her heart thumping, her hands trembling as she moved the mouse to get the cursor out of the way.

  First she studied the pictures. Two were the same ones Livvy had found. The third was a wedding picture. Standing beside Packer was his high-school sweetheart, Rachelle Kensington, in her wedding gown. The caption read: “Tragedy strikes fairy-tale couple, seen here in happier times.” Next to that photograph was a snapshot of Packer, Rachelle, and a baby about six months old. This caption read: “Mother and infant killed by drunk driver: Husband and father, J.B. Packer.” The final photo was of Packer receiving a medal of commendation from the Los Angeles fire chief, honoring him for his courageous actions that resulted in saving lives in a raging forest fire near Lake Arrowhead. The caption read: “From commendation to AWOL. No one knows the whereabouts of crack fire jumper since fiery accident took the lives of his family.”

  Tears stung Kate’s throat, and she swallowed hard. The missing years. Now she knew.

  She went back to the article and reread the final paragraphs, this time aloud:

  Packer was cleared of manslaughter charges because he wasn’t legally drunk. However, authorities say his consumption of alcohol was a contributing factor in the fiery accident that claimed the lives of his wife, Rachelle, and their baby daughter, Hannah Grace. This reporter traced this former hero-turned-tragic-figure to the area known as Skid Row in Los Angeles, where he is living and working as a janitor in the Union Rescue Mission under the fictitious name Jed Brawley.

  “I’M BACK.” Kate stood outside J.B.’s cell.

  When he looked up, she could see that his eyes were red-rimmed, the lines in his face deep. She pulled a bag of cookies out of her purse and handed it to him.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  All the way to town hall, Kate had prayed for the right words to say to J.B. Now as she stood before him, words seemed inadequate. What could she say? The emotions were too complex, ran too deep. She remembered the words of Saint Francis of Assisi: “Preach Christ; if you must, use words.” She hadn’t come to preach, but she had come to reflect Christ’s love to this prisoner. Maybe her presence was enough. Maybe she didn’t need to worry about what to say.

  “I just came from the library,” she said.

  “More digging, I suppose. I hope you’re satisfied with what you found.” He turned away from her.

  “You’ve been waiting for the rest of the story to be discovered, then?”

  “I figured the sheriff would be all over it like...never mind.”

  “You want to see what I found?” He turned, and she held out a copy of the Times article and photos.

  “They got it right,” J.B. said, his voice low. “All of it.”

  “About Rachelle and Hannah Grace?”

  At the sound of their names, he looked up, tears in his eyes. “Yes. Everything.”

  A sting of tears crept to the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and blinked. “Oh, J.B., I’m so sorry.”

  A small flicker of a smile came to the corner of his mouth. “Call me Jed. I’m so used to it by now that J.B. sounds like someone else.” He opened the baggie and grabbed a cookie. “These do help,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “You didn’t do it, did you?”

  “Oh yes. We’d been out for pizza. I’d had a couple of beers, maybe more—there was a pitcher on the table. My reflexes weren’t what they should’ve been. I didn’t see the other car when I pulled onto the freeway.” He looked away from her.

  For a moment Kate didn’t speak, then she said, “I meant the church fire, Jed. You didn’t do it, did you?”

  He stared at her. “I thought I did at first. That’s why I confessed. I was nearby, saw the flames, the smoke, and ran to the church. Old instincts are hard to break. I wanted to help get anyone out who might’ve been inside.” He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes. “That’s when something snapped,” he said, his shoulders trembling. “I opened the door and got hit by a wall of flames. I thought I saw Rachelle’s face...the baby’s...” His voice choked. “All I could think about was that it was my fault they died. The fire was my fault.”

  At the end of the corridor, the heavy door opened, and Skip Spencer stuck his head in. “Everything okay in here?” he called down to Kate.

  Kate exchanged a glance with Jed, who nodded, then she called back. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Alrightee, then. Just checking.”

  When the door slammed closed, Jed took a deep breath and began again. “I tried to get inside, but the wall of flames stopped me. Apparently I was running away from the church when the fire department got there. Saw me running; thought the obvious.”

  “You’ve got to tell them.”

  He shrugged. “Who’s gonna believe me?”

  “You’ve got to try.”

  He stared at her, unblinking, for several moments. The hollow look was gone, but in its place was too much pain and sorrow for one human being to bear. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was husky with emotion.

  She didn’t speak.

  “I deserve to be charged with this crime. Charged and sentenced and punished, just as I should have been when my family died.”

  “I’ll tell the sheriff, then,” Kate said, stepping closer to the bars.

  “I’ll deny everything I told you.”

  “They’ll believe me. I’m the minister’s wife.”

  He gave her a gentle smile, and she saw in his expression the man he used to be. “Yes, that you are. And my friend.” He stepped toward her. “But I’ll still deny it.”

  “What about the one who really did it? Can you let the courts prosecute the wrong man while the real criminal gets away?”

  “Maybe it was an accident.”

  “I talked to the sheriff. It was no accident.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  “I have to tell the sheriff what I found out.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  THE SHERIFF WAS OUT, so Kate handed a copy of the L.A. Times article to Skip. “Make sure the sheriff gets it,” she said.

  But Skip’s eyes were glued to the article, and he didn’t seem to hear. All he said was “Whoa!” Then he let out a whistle between his teeth and said “Whoa!” again.

  KATE STEPPED FROM THE TOWN HALL into the bright autumn sunlight, momentarily blinded. Then she saw the pink Sub-Zero parked next to her Honda and told herself not to groan.

  Renee got out of her car as soon as she spotted Kate. “I finally figured out what you’ve been doing here. I brought you the first time, and you wouldn’t tell me what you were up to. Then I saw your car parked here again...and then again, not more than a day or so later. I forget which day, but no matter—here you are again. And I’m sure it’s to visit the perp.” She stepped closer. “Am I right?”

  Kate sighed and shot a prayer heavenward. “You’re right, Renee. I did come to visit the prisoner. In Matthew, Jesus said—”

  “What did you find out? I told you I was going to investigate on my own. You should have told me where you were going so we could share information. It’s the only way we’re going to keep the perp in the slammer. We’ve got to build the case against him.”

  “I think we’re on opposite sides of this, Renee. I happen to think he’s innocent.”

  Renee sputtered and didn’t seem to be able to find the words to voice her dismay.

  Kate decided to leave before Renee hit her with another lecture about seeing justice done.
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br />   “I must go, Renee. I’m sorry.” Kate hit the UNLOCK button on her key ring, got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Then she stopped and looked back at Renee, who stood staring after her, looking terribly alone. And lonely.

  She let her breath out on a sigh. Okay, Lord, I know what you’d have me do. But I have to tell you, it’s hard. She laughed lightly as she backed up. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  She pulled up beside the Oldsmobile, pushed the button on her door console, and lowered the driver’s-side window. “Renee, how about coming by for some tea? I need to tell you what I’ve found out about the case. Maybe you can help me with some input.”

  Renee stared at her for a moment, then sniffed and checked her watch. “Well, I suppose I can squeeze it in. I’ve got an appointment in an hour.”

  “Wonderful. Would you like to ride with me? I can bring you back to your car later.”

  Renee reached in her car and retrieved Kisses, who wagged his tail when he spotted Kate. “Guess what, little umpkins,” Renee cooed. “We’re going to Grandma’s house for tea.”

  Kate choked. Grandma’s house? Renee was a good decade or two older than Kate. Grandma?

  “Look at that, will you?” Renee climbed into the Honda and closed the door. Kisses scrambled to sit on Kate’s lap beneath the steering wheel. “He’s thrilled to be going back to the parsonage—aren’t you, little umpkins.”

  Kate tried her best to keep her next thought from form-ing words, but they spilled out anyway: “How about if I babysit for little ump—ah...for Kisses while you go to your appointment?”

  “How about that, punkin’?” Renee said to the dog. “Grandma wants to babysit.” She fixed a stare on Kate, then said, “Just because I’m letting my precious umpkins stay with you doesn’t mean I’m not still upset.”

  “I understand,” Kate said between clenched teeth.

  OVER TEA RENEE READ the Times article. She blinked back tears when she read about Rachelle and Hannah Grace, but when Kate told her that Jed didn’t set the church fire, she said, “I don’t believe him. I still think he’s as guilty as dirt. Besides, if he didn’t do it, who did?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate related what LuAnne overheard at the diner.

  “That woman is too nosy for her own good,” Renee pronounced, dismissing the information with a flutter of her fingers.

  Kate suspected that if Renee had been the one to garner the same information, it would have been taken as gospel truth and spread throughout the town as such.

  Renee looked at her watch. “I must go. I really shouldn’t have let you talk me into leaving my car at the town hall. I’m in a fine fix now, having to depend on you for a ride.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Kate said. Her jaw was beginning to ache.

  They stopped in the entry hall, and Kate helped Renee into her faux leopard-skin jacket. Renee’s attention seemed to be caught by something in the large living room. She took a step toward the doorway and stopped, staring at the sliding-glass doors.

  “Did anyone ever tell you those water spots look like a flock of sheep?” she said.

  A hint of a smile lit Renee’s eyes. “Really, dear. You should do something about this room.” She rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

  “And while you drive me to my car, I’ll tell you about Eli Weston. I didn’t want to go into the details with Pastor Paul last night, but really, it’s a story you should hear.” She snapped the jeweled leash on Kisses.

  Kate did her best to avoid gossip. She didn’t spread it, and she didn’t want to hear it. “I’m sure Eli will tell us what he wants us to know when the time is right.” She opened the passenger-side door for Renee. Kisses hopped in with her.

  “Fine. But he won’t tell you. It’s too terrible for him to talk about.”

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as Kate dropped Renee and Kisses off at the town hall, she headed to the library only to find the parking spaces taken. It seemed Fridays were storytelling days for the little ones, because moms and preschoolers were streaming into the entrance.

  Earlier Eli Weston had picked up Paul to take a look at some homes around the area that he had built before he injured his back. There was a cherry-pie special at the diner on Fridays, and Eli had suggested they stop in for pie and coffee before he dropped Paul back by the parsonage. That meant the car was Kate’s all day. Paul’s Lexus would arrive at the beginning of the following week, should all go well with the students’ drive east, and she couldn’t wait. She wasn’t used to sharing a car.

  At that thought she whispered a prayer for forgiveness. It seemed she was doing that a lot these days. And taking her blessings for granted was something she had to watch out for. So was complaining to God in the middle of the night because she was homesick for San Antonio. Many people had no transportation, or lived in their vehicles because they didn’t have a home. She’d have to try to be more thankful.

  She sighed. It was a good thing God loved her no matter her flaws, because it seemed that lately her flaws were becoming glaringly evident.

  Kate found a parking spot a block away, and walked back to the library behind a mother with an infant in a stroller and a toddler by her side. Livvy had just stepped out of her office and was standing behind the front counter, sorting periodicals. She looked up and smiled as Kate approached.

  “You’ve got that determined look in your eyes,” Livvy said.

  Kate lowered her voice. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

  “We’ve got some private meeting rooms upstairs. Let’s head up there.” Livvy picked up the phone and asked someone to cover for her while she was in a meeting, then she led Kate into a small conference room behind the computers and closed the door. The women sat down across from each other at a long table in the center of the room.

  “I was looking into Worldwide Destination Resorts,” Livvy began.

  “How far did you get?”

  “Far enough to become alarmed, but it’s going to take more sleuthing to find anything concrete.”

  “Like who the insider on this end is?” Kate said.

  Livvy let out a sigh, and her disappointment was evident in her expression. “LuAnne called you this morning too?”

  Kate nodded, then pulled out a pad and pen and settled back. “Tell me what you found out.”

  “For one thing, Worldwide has a bad reputation in the industry. The company buys old hotels, renovates them, and turns them into upscale spas. I was able to get into the county real-estate transactions, deed records, and tax records.” She leaned forward. “Listen to this: They’ve already purchased the Copper Creek Hotel, that run-down place next to the church.”

  “To renovate?”

  “Yes. Big time. According to their Web site, the new inn will be up and running as a five-star, five-diamond destination hotel within the next twenty-four months. They showed prototypes on the Web, and I have to say, it is gorgeous. They’re renaming it the Hamilton Springs Hotel. They show a two-story building where most of the rooms will be, then also a dozen or so private cottages around the property. The design, so they say, will ensure that all rooms have a view of Copper Mill Creek. The cottages will have wraparound decks overlooking the creek.”

  Kate looked up from her scribbled notes and tapped her chin with the end of her pen. “We’re talking about adjoining properties. Let me guess, they want our land so they can expand.”

  “They need our land,” Livvy said. “The cottages are all scattered over what is now the church property.”

  “They do this all the time, though. Wouldn’t you think they’d have all their quails in a covey before embarking on a project this big?”

  “There’s another part of their story I haven’t told you.”

  “Financial need.”

  Livvy grinned. “You’ve got it.”

  “Desperate times, you know, and all that. If they’ve indeed gone this far without knowing they could get our church property—which is no
t a sound business decision, in my opinion—they’re either inept and arrogant...”

  “Or in deep financial difficulty,” Livvy said. “And from other digging, it appears they’re still trying to recover from other unwise investments. Their CEO was fired just six months ago, and a new one was brought in to turn things around. He’s got a reputation for being pretty ruthless. Puts smaller hotels out of business just so he can come in and create a monopoly. That sort of thing.”

  “And then we have the bombshell LuAnne overheard this morning—the insider they’re working with—which dovetails with what we’ve just uncovered. We’ve identified motive and opportunity, but we don’t have any proof.”

  “We can guess what happened. They target Jed as someone in need of fast money—”

  “He didn’t do it,” Kate said. “That’s what I came over to tell you.”

  “Are up sure?” Livvy looked up at Kate in surprise. Kate nodded. “I talked with him this morning. He had some sort of flashback when he saw the flames. He confessed because he thought he had done it. Now he won’t recant his earlier confession.”

  “Are you going to the sheriff with this?”

  “I showed Skip the Times article, but Jed says he’ll deny everything he told me.” She sat back, tapping her pen on the pad. “The only way to see that justice is done is to find out who started the fire.”

  “Let me know what you’d like for me to do.”

  Kate stood and collected her things. “You’ve done so much already, Livvy. Thank you.”

  Livvy grinned as she pushed back her chair. “I’m happy to play Watson to your Sherlock anytime.”

  “Okay, Watson. Let’s head to the computer bank. I’d like to take a look at some Web sites.”

  Kate opened the corporate Web site for Worldwide Destination Resorts. She was impressed with its high-end, glitzy look. Superficially, no one would know that this was a company in deep financial trouble. She surfed around to other related sites, then returned to WDR. A photograph of the new CEO, a balding silver-haired man with stark black eyebrows, stared back at her. He was dressed in an expensively cut suit and what looked like a silk tie. Next to his photo was a letter to shareholders listing upcoming ventures that would improve the solvency of the company. Topping the list was the Hamilton Springs Hotel and Spa.

 

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