by Robin Caroll
They rang the doorbell and waited. Then knocked. Nothing. They knocked again.
“They aren’t home.”
Nick turned to see an elderly lady in flannel pajamas under a wool coat walking an almost hairless Schnauzer along the sidewalk. “You know the people who live here?”
“Of course I do. I live right across the street. Betsy Ann McDearmott.” She ambled up to him. “I’m a member of our neighborhood crime watch. Who are you?” She put one hand on her bony hip.
He flashed his badge. “Agent Hagar, ma’am, and this is Agent Timmons.”
“Is there a problem here?”
“Oh no, ma’am. We’re just following up with Mr. Ward. About the satellite dish installer that was at their house last Friday.”
“Oh, that. All that drilling so loud. Scared poor Rosie here half to death.” She picked up the dog that looked both blind and deaf. Nick doubted poor Rosie even knew what was going on.
“It was loud?”
“Oh my, yes. It was quite disturbing. I called Leo and asked what in the world was going on. I still have cable, you know, but Leo said he couldn’t get all the ministry channels he wanted with just cable.”
Nick exchanged a look with Timmons. “You called Leo? That morning?”
“I sure did. I hadn’t really a choice, not with all that ruckus going on. I wanted to know what was happening. Me and poor Rosie couldn’t even hear our morning show.”
“Mrs. McDearmott, do you happen to recall what time you spoke with Leo?”
“Why I sure do. Right about eight thirty.”
“Are you sure?”
She set the dog on the sidewalk again. “Of course I’m sure. It was just as my morning show was about to start and it comes on at eight thirty every weekday.”
“And you called the Wards’ house?”
“Yes. Leo apologized profusely and explained the technician would be inside soon and not making any more noise. That Leo is a nice man. His wife too. He even sent his son over that evening with a fresh batch of those tea cakes his wife makes.”
Another alibi sewn up.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. McDearmott. You’ve been so helpful.”
“Happy to help, Agents.” She tugged on the leash. “Come on, Rosie. It’s almost time for our afternoon stories.”
Nick stared at Timmons once they were back in the car. “That’s strike two. We’re running out of suspects.”
“Maybe we’ll get the info from the familial earlier rather than later tomorrow.”
Nick turned over the car’s engine. “Be sure and wear a clean suit tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to a funeral.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I’ll never feel comfortable taking a strong drink,
and I’ll never feel easy smoking a cigarette.
I just don’t think those things are right for me.”
Elvis Presley
The omelet melted in her mouth. Maddie moaned aloud.
Nick grinned. “Good?”
“Oh. My. Goodness. This is truly a masterpiece.” She’d ordered the portobello mushroom-and-roasted pepper omelet. The perfect blend of portobello mushrooms, and Swiss and mozzarella cheeses exploded in her mouth with just the right kick of roasted red peppers.
He chuckled. “Nothing beats Brother Juniper’s breakfast. It’s the best breakfast in Memphis.”
“I can’t believe I’ve lived here all my life and never eaten here.” Not really surprising. She normally didn’t get out for breakfast often, but she’d never have stumbled upon the house with the white picket fence as a breakfast culinary delight.
“My brother adored this place, so my family used to come every Sunday after church.” Nick shook his head. “I think Roger just liked that it was a house and he loved the cheery walls. Or could’ve been he had a crush on the waitress. At any rate, I fell in love with the food.” He scooped another bite of his Hungry Tiger open-faced omelet.
Church every Sunday . . . so was he a Christian? That would be number one on her list of requirements for a man. She wiped her mouth. “What church do you attend?”
His fork froze midbite. He swallowed and lowered his fork. “We attended Crossway Church.”
“Over on Altruria?”
He nodded, shoving the bite into his mouth.
“I know it.” She smiled. “I’ve visited there a couple of times. I liked it.”
He chewed.
“I attend the Life Church and love it. The schedule is great for working around if I have to work on Sunday. For instance, I’m planning on attending service tomorrow evening at six. Would you like to join me?”
Nick took a long sip of coffee. “I think I’ll be working. If we get that info back from Nashville TBI.”
She swallowed her bite, the omelet suddenly not as flavorful as before. “I understand. The offer stands, though.” She pushed away her plate. Disappointment didn’t mix with mushrooms.
Nick’s cell phone broke the uncommon, uncomfortable silence with its buzz. “Excuse me,” he said before answering the call. “Hagar.”
Maddie sipped her coffee. No doubt about it, Nick didn’t want to come to church with her. Maybe he really liked his own church, but he hadn’t invited her to go with him. Maybe he’d been burned by a church as a young man and never reconciled himself. The reason didn’t matter, only that it didn’t appear he was a godly man as he never broached the conversation, even when she opened the subject matter wide.
Lord, if Nick’s strayed from You, I pray You will draw him nearer to You. Not just so we can have the relationship I really, really want, but for his eternal life. Amen.
She contemplated in silence, catching his part of the phone conversation.
“Great. Set it up in my office and we’ll view it when I get in.”
She drank the rest of her coffee.
“Yeah. I’ll let her know. Thanks.” He hung up. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. Anything urgent?”
“No, just an alibi verification, maybe.”
“Good.”
“Oh, and the judge has set the date for Conrad Sloan’s sentencing. It’ll be Monday at nine.”
She still didn’t know exactly how she felt about Sloan. She could certainly understand him being upset because of his sister, but retaliating against her served no purpose except for his idea of vigilante revenge. While she’d done her job and done it well, she couldn’t help feeling much like Sloan—that because of her, a terrible monster had been set free.
But science didn’t lie.
“Are you planning to go? I’ll be there. I’ll have to testify since I took his statement, but I won’t be able to sit with you.”
“It’s okay.” She probably wouldn’t go. She hated courtrooms. Hated to testify. It was the one part of her job she didn’t like.
He frowned. “How about I get Timmons to testify, and I’ll sit with you?”
“No, really. I probably won’t be able to go anyway, unless I have to.” She shrugged. “I’ll be busy at work.”
Nick gave her a funny look. “Okay.” He nodded toward her plate. “You didn’t eat half of your omelet.”
“I’m full.” She set down her cup. “I know you need to get to work. I do too.” She stood. “This was really nice, though. Thank you.”
He stood as well and tossed a couple of twenties onto the table. He took her elbow and led her out of the diner-style restaurant. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. My mind’s already on work.” She smiled past her disappointment.
“I know, how about dinner tonight? The Rendezvous?” His smile danced in his eyes.
“I thought you didn’t eat ribs in public?” She couldn’t help responding to tha
t smile of his.
“For you, my lady, I’ll disgrace myself with barbeque-sauced cheeks.” He wagged his eyebrows.
She laughed. “How can I resist?”
“You can’t. That’s the point.” He hugged her. “How about I pick you up at six?”
“Sounds great to me.”
They stopped beside her car. He leaned down and kissed her temple. “See you tonight.”
Her heart didn’t stop thumping despite the unsettling disappointment until she reached the office.
“Deus, cujus miseratióne ánimæ fidélium requiéscunt, hunc túmulum benedícere dignáre, eíque Angelum tuum sanctum députa custódem: et quorum quarúmque córpora hic sepeliúntur, ánimas eórum ab ómnibus absólve vínculis delictórum; ut in te semper cum Sanctis tuis sine fine læténtur. Per Christum Dóminum nostrum. Amen.”
Nick stared at the priest, vested in a black cope at Gina Ford’s gravesite. He lifted the collar of his coat to ward off the wind. While sunny with temperatures in the thirties, there was a gusty wind rattling through Memorial Gardens Cemetery.
The second priest—or was it an assistant?—turned toward the crowd of mourners and translated the Latin. “O God, by Your mercy rest is given to the souls of the faithful, be pleased to bless this grave. Appoint Your holy angels to guard it and set free from all the chains of sin and the soul of her whose body is buried here, so that with all Thy saints she may rejoice in Thee forever. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Nick drew in a quick breath. God’s mercy? Where was His mercy when Roger had been killed? Where was His mercy when his mother had to stand over a casket and peer down into her son’s lifeless face? Nick shook his head. He needed to concentrate. He was here to do his job, not look for an epiphany.
Mrs. Ford stood beside the senator, her face covered by a black veil. She leaned against the senator as the priest splashed water over the gravesite, then swung a canister of incense over the casket.
“Réquiem æternam dona ei, Dómine.”
“Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord.”
“Et lux perpétua lúceat ei.”
“And let perpetual light shine upon her.”
“Requiéscat in pace.”
“May she rest in peace.”
“Amen.”
“Anima ejus, et ánimæ ómnium fidélium defunctórum, per misericórdiam Dei requiéscant in pace.”
“May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.”
Nick’s heart thudded. Was Roger’s soul at peace? Was his brother in the presence of God? Strange how just the idea made him feel . . . well, hard to explain. Not as angry?
“Amen.”
The crowd formed a line to address the senator and Mrs. Ford. Some offered hugs, some a handshake, but all offered some form of condolence. The senator spoke to every person while Mrs. Ford merely nodded or accepted the offered embrace.
Nick ignored his own burning emotions as he noticed a few people from the very back of the crowd slipping away toward the row of vehicles lining the cemetery. One he recognized—David Tiddle. Nick stiffened, his mind and concentration solely on David. He motioned for Timmons to stay and monitor those offering condolences to the grieving parents, then moved to follow Tiddle.
He had to sprint the last few yards, all uphill, so as not to shout after the younger man. “Tiddle.”
The man turned, then stopped. “Ah, hello.” His eyes were bloodshot and swollen.
“Agent Hagar.”
“I remember. Well, I didn’t remember your name, but I remember who you are.” He stared down the hill toward Gina’s casket. “I probably shouldn’t have come. Her father will have a cow if he sees me. But it seemed wrong not to pay my last respects to someone I loved.” Moisture filled his eyes.
By all accounts, Gina had loved Tiddle very much and vice versa. Nick recognized the grief Tiddle wore like a favorite jacket. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He swiped the back of his hand across his face and cleared his throat. “I didn’t think it’d be this hard to stand there and stare at that box, knowing she was inside. I didn’t think it’d be so painful to tell her good-bye in my heart.”
Nick understood. He hadn’t been prepared to tell Roger good-bye at the funeral. His actual final words to his brother had come much later, when he was on a nature walk in Shelby Farms Park. Alone and in the quietness only nature could provide, Nick was able to empty his heart and let Roger go.
Tiddle used his chin to gesture toward the graveside. “I heard on the news the senator said you had some forensic evidence?”
“I can’t discuss an open investigation, Mr. Tiddle.”
“But the senator can?”
He wasn’t supposed to, but apparently a gag wouldn’t keep the politician’s mouth closed. “I have no idea where Senator Ford received his information.” Although the Medical Examiner suspected one of his clerks to have been the leak. A cleark who had since been let go.
“I see.” Tiddle nodded. “I figured the old man was just blowing smoke when I didn’t hear about any arrest being made.”
“No, no arrest. We’re still actively investigating, though.”
“I can’t believe you had the nerve to show up here.” The woman’s voice grated from between two cars.
Nick and Tiddle both twisted toward the voice.
Cynthia Mantle pointed at Tiddle as her spiked heels punctured the carefully groomed ground. “You aren’t welcome here.”
This could be very interesting. Nick leaned against Tiddle’s car.
“More welcome than you.” Tiddle’s eyes narrowed. “At least Gina loved me. She didn’t even like you anymore. She wanted to get away from your jealousy and pettiness. Get away from you clinging to her coattails.”
Mantle glanced at Nick, then stepped closer to Tiddle. “We were having a rough patch, yes, but it was brought on by you.”
“Me?” Tiddle chuckled, cold and humorless. “Please. I didn’t have to do a thing. You were so jealous of her that everyone saw it for a long time. Gina was so good, she chose to believe the best about people, even you. Until you showed your true colors.”
“You poisoned her against me. Told her your filthy lies.”
“Lies?” Tiddle crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his car, opposite side of Nick. “You did make a move on me.”
“Before y’all were dating.”
“No, it was after we’d already gone out several times.”
“But you weren’t exclusive.”
Nick digested the information. No one had mentioned this little tidbit before. That would explain some of the bitterness between them.
“Didn’t matter. I wasn’t interested, and you didn’t like that. Couldn’t stand that I preferred Gina over you.” He waved a hand up and down in front of her. “But really, who could blame me?”
Nick pressed his lips together and waited. Most of the women he knew would dole out a slap for that one.
“Oh, puh-leeze. Get over yourself, David. Everyone knew you were just a gold digger. It was only a matter of time before Gina figured it out. Once she did, you’d be nothing but a flash in the pan.” She leaned closer to Tiddle. “But I think she did find out. She told me that morning she was going to confront two people in her life and it would hurt her, but that she’d do it. I think one of those people was you.”
Tiddle’s snide expression slipped just a fraction. “Like she would talk to you?”
“She did. Ask Agent Hagar there. He has the phone records that prove I talked with Gina.”
Tiddle glanced at him. Nick kept his expression neutral.
“Even if you did talk to her, she probably told you to leave her alone and stop calling her.”
Interesting
. Mantle hadn’t said she’d called Gina. How did he know she’d been the one who called and not Gina calling her? Had he just assumed?
Tiddle shook his head at Mantle. “You just can’t accept that Gina was done with you. She’d had enough of you using her.”
“Me using her? Don’t you mean you?”
“Cyn, Cyn, Cyn . . . we all know your poor father got caught embezzling three years ago and is spending time in a federal camp. Poor, little disgraced Cynthia needed big-hearted Gina with her father’s political influence to make sure she wasn’t ostracized by everyone in Memphis.”
Mantle’s face went fire-engine red. “I wasn’t using her for money. Who did she hand money to all the time, David? Huh? You. Loans you called them. Did you ever pay her back?”
More interesting stuff. He should’ve brought a recorder. Who knew a funeral could provide so much information about suspects.
“Yes. Yes, I did pay her back. With interest.”
“Sure you did.”
“I did, but I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
Nick’s cell phone vibrated. He moved to the back of the car to answer the call. “Hagar.”
“Nick? It’s Maddie.”
“Hey.”
“Guess what I’m holding?”
“Um . . . a leash?”
She laughed, throaty and soft. It did strange things to his gut. “No. I’m holding the results from the familial DNA test. An Agent Zanca just hand delivered the sealed envelope to me. And she said to tell you that you owed her one.”
Yes! “I’ll round up Timmons and we’ll head that way now.” He squinted down at the mourners, trying to spot the agent. “Thanks for calling me.”
“See you soon.”
Nick hung up and walked back to the bickering couple. “Excuse me, but this is neither the time nor the place for your discussion.” Although he’d enjoyed the results.
“Sorry.” Tiddle dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Nick looked from one to the other. “As the investigation is still ongoing, I’m going to remind you both to remain in town in the event we have more questions.”