She bit her lip and fidgeted in the hard, plastic chair, feeling very much like a kindergartner who had just been told she had to sit quiet the whole day. Kindergartners weren't putting their friends' lives in jeopardy, though.
"He's a friend, and so is Geanie. I can't risk them getting hurt."
"Don't worry. We'll do everything we can to protect them now that we have at least a theory about what is going on here."
Cindy remembered police protection that had not gone so well in the past, but decided it was not the time to bring it up.She didn't need to antagonize Mark.
"Do you have a list of people who sit on that board?" he asked.
"No, but Joseph can give you that." She blanched as she remembered her conversation with him the day before.
"What is it?" Mark asked.
"I know he's thinking of asking Jeremiah to replace Dr.Tanner."
"Of course he is," Mark said with a sigh. "Because, you know, any way that you or the rabbi can get more drawn into this mess. Sometimes I think the two of you are conspiring to give me a heart attack or gray hair at the very least."
"I was at the pub the other night," she said, deciding she needed to tell Mark her suspicions regardless of whether it contributed to his premature graying. "I overheard Max Diamond say that he wouldn't let anything stop him from buying the camp."
"That doesn't mean anything unfortunately," Mark said."You could convict and execute me a dozen times over based on the things I say during the day. People exaggerate or are misinterpreted all the time."
"Well, I looked him up on the internet and a couple of years ago he bought a ranch in Nebraska a month after the owner's wife accidentally overdosed on prescription drugs."
Mark sighed. "That could be a complete coincidence. Do you even know if the wife opposed the sale? That would at least be something."
"I don't know," she admitted.
"Max Diamond is a suspect just like everyone else, but I've met the man and I'm not sure he's behind these killings. He's not a nice man and of course you want to blame him because of it."
"It's not that," Cindy said.
"All right, thank you for your help," Mark said as he stood up. "Call me if you think of anything else."
"What do you want me to do in the meantime?" she asked.
He looked at her like she had grown a second head. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"What can I do to help?"
"Nothing. Cindy, you're not a cop. This isn't your job. What you need to do right now is leave well enough alone and let us professionals handle it. Meanwhile, I'm sorry for pulling you away from your actual job."
He left the room and she stared after him. "But I can help," she whispered.
Jeremiah was less than thrilled when Marie showed Mark into his office. Mark closed the door and took a seat across from Jeremiah. "Hello, Rabbi."
"Detective."
"I just came from next door. Heads up, the secretary has got her teeth in this and I doubt she'll be letting it go any time soon."
Jeremiah leaned back in his chair and did his best not to react. "What exactly is it she's got her teeth into?"
"The man who hit you didn't just have a heart attack. He was murdered."
Jeremiah had been afraid that might be the case. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but Cindy had seemed so sure and it would make life too simple if it had just been an accident. Simple was something life hadn't been in way too long.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"That he was murdered or that she's determined to get herself involved?"
"Both. But frankly I am curious as to why you're here."
"If she's getting herself involved I know it will drag you in, whether you want it to or not. There's a connection between you two."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Fine. Play that game. I also want to pick your brain more about the accident."
"I've already told you everything I could remember," Jeremiah said.
"I know, but I'm going to need to go over everything with you one more time."
Jeremiah answered Mark's questions as quickly and with as much detail as possible. Just having the detective in his office made him uncomfortable.
What's wrong with me? he began to wonder. The car accident was the least suspicious thing he had been involved in that the detective had questioned him about since they had met. Still, he felt the urge to just walk out of the interview, hit the street, and keep walking.
Three years he had been rabbi at the synagogue. Three years he had lived in the same house, gone to work at the same place, bought his groceries at the same store, seen the same people.
I'm restless, he realized. It was the longest he had been anywhere since he was a kid and something inside of him was telling him it was time to move on. The realization frustrated him and he balled his hands into fists.
He stared at the detective and wondered how many seconds of silence and peace it would buy him if he reached across his desk and snapped the man's neck. Calm down, he warned himself.
"Rabbi, are you okay?" Mark asked.
Jeremiah just stared at him.
"Rabbi? You don't look so good."
Jeremiah shook himself hard. "Reliving the accident is stressful," he lied.
"Gotcha. Well, I think we're done, so I'll go and let you destress," Mark said, standing up.
You don't even want to know how I de-stress, Jeremiah thought as he forced himself to smile at the other man. It felt more like he was baring his teeth, but he forced himself to meet the other man's eyes.
Mark took a step backward. It was involuntary, Jeremiah could tell. There was no quickening thought in Mark's eyes, just a slight dilation that betrayed fear so subtle that he wasn't even aware of the emotion.
"See you later," Mark said, heading out the door a touch faster than he might otherwise have.
Jeremiah gripped the edge of his desk. He was losing control and that wasn't a good thing. He needed to clear his head before he did or said something he couldn't take back. He strained his ears and could hear Marie on the telephone in the outer office. Perfect. He wasn't in the mood to explain himself.He scribbled a simple note on a piece of paper. Going to appointments, out for the rest of the day.
He grabbed his coat on his way out of his office. He dropped the note on Marie's desk, waved, and left before she could hang up the phone. He made it to the parking lot without running into anyone and drove quickly home.
Once there he changed clothes and then clipped a leash on Captain's collar. "Feel like a run in the park, boy?"
The dog barked joyously. He had learned what the word park meant and he looked forward to the exercise as much as Jeremiah did. Ten minutes later they were in the park and Jeremiah felt the rush of release as he uncoiled his muscles and raced along the path. Captain ran beside him.
He had spent most of his life alone, but over the last four months he had found himself getting used to the dog's presence.He had never had a pet before but he understood why people valued them so highly. Still, Captain was more than a pet. He was a comrade.
"Whatever happens, boy, it's you and me," he told the dog.
Captain barked and butted Jeremiah's hand with his nose even as they ran. The dog had come to him upon the death of his previous master. A man Jeremiah had recognized from his past, a man who had been murdered before Jeremiah could talk to him. And the murder was still unsolved.
Maybe that's what's wrong with me, has me so unsettled, Jeremiah thought. It was a simple explanation, too simple, he feared.
He was also getting enmeshed in the community, too much so for his taste. The invitation from Joseph to be on the board was a sign of that.
But isn't that what you've been trying to accomplish? Isn't that the whole point of a new life, one free from too much scrutiny?
He began to run faster, but the headache that was forming couldn't be outrun. Neither could his problems. He was going to have to make some decisions about the cours
e of his life soon before they were made for him.
It was close to quitting time when the office door opened and Brenda walked in. Cindy looked at the girl in surprise and then gave her a big smile. "Hi, Brenda, remember me?"
Brenda smiled shyly. "Of course, Miss Preston."
Cindy cringed at the title and how old it made her feel, but kept her smile firmly in place. "Is there something I can do for you?"
The girl held an envelope in her hands, gripping it with white knuckles. "Is Pastor David here?"
"I think he's left for the day. Can I help?"
Brenda walked forward and handed the envelope to Cindy."I wrote a thank you letter for my camp sponsor."
"Oh, wonderful. I know who it is so I'll make sure he gets it."
"Thank you," Brenda said, coloring.
Brenda's family was very poor and Cindy could guess what it meant to the girl to go to camp. The girl hovered anxiously and Cindy sensed there was something more.
"What else do you need?"
"I was going to ask Pastor David to write me a letter of recommendation.I'm going to try to get an after-school job."
"Oh, I'm sure he'd be happy to write you a letter. I'll ask him in the morning."
"Thank you," Brenda said, biting her lip.
"You're welcome. Do me a favor and have fun at camp, okay?"
"Okay," Brenda said with a smile.
"Do you want me to give the letter to Joseph?" Geanie asked after the girl had left.
"I'd really appreciate it," Cindy said.
Geanie got up and took the letter from her, looking at it contemplatively. "He's a really good man."
"Was there a question?" Cindy asked, puzzled.
"I'm just . . . I'm scared. You know?"
Cindy blinked at her, startled. "Of what?"
"I'm in love with him," Geanie admitted. She shuddered after she had said it. "That's the first time I've admitted it."
"So, I take it he doesn't know?"
Geanie shook her head.
"Do you know how he feels?"
"I know he likes me, but beyond that . . . no. I think that's what scares me so much," Geanie said.
"You could tell him how you feel."
Geanie laughed as if that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. "The guy should say it first. It doesn't work well the other way around."
"Oh," Cindy said. Staring at Geanie she could see the other girl's emotions, her love, her fear. She felt a pang of jealousy.She had never been in love, not even close. She had never let herself go there.
That would require opening myself up, being vulnerable.
But staring at her friend Cindy wished that she could know, if even just once, what it felt like to care about a man that much. Tears suddenly stung her eyes and she turned away so that Geanie wouldn't see them and get the wrong idea.
When she locked up the office as they left a while later Cindy contemplated the rest of her evening. She didn't want to go home and try to amuse herself with television. She had nowhere to be, though, nowhere to go.
Or I could go see Larson Beck and find out what he knows, if anything, about all of this.
She turned around at the church gate and headed back to the office. Larson's phone number was in her files connected with the scout meeting. She called the number from the office phone and on the third ring he answered.
"Hi, Larson, this is Cindy Preston. I'm the secretary at First Shepherd."
"Hi, Cindy. What can I do for you?"
She felt suddenly awkward, but she took a deep breath and continued, "I'd like to talk to you about Dr. Tanner's accident.I think it might be connected to the purchase offer for Green Pastures."
There was silence for a moment and then Larson asked, "What makes you think that?"
"I have my reasons, and I can explain it all to you. I just wanted to know if we could meet and talk?"
"Sure, okay. Coffee at Joe's downtown in half an hour?"
"I'll be there," Cindy said.
She relocked the office and the church gate and drove to Joe's in a state of excitement. Gerald Wilson was right; the thrill of solving riddles was addictive.
But not safe, a part of her mind whispered, reminding her of the cost.
She flipped open her cell and called Jeremiah, wanting to catch him up to speed and invite him to the meeting. It seemed odd that they hadn't spent much time talking about the crime.
She got his voicemail. "Hi, it's Cindy. I talked to Mark and I know he was on his way to talk to you about the fact that Dr. Tanner was murdered. I'm going to see Larson Beck. We think Dr. Tanner was on his way to see him when he died.Give me a call."
She had to park two blocks away. When she finally made it into Joe's coffee shop, Larson was already at a table sipping his coffee. He waved to her and she ordered herself a raspberry hot chocolate. A minute later she was sitting across from him.
"Thanks for meeting me."
"You said murder. I'm all ears."
He listened while she brought him up to speed, displaying shock and sorrow alternately as she described the scenario she and Mark worked out.
"And you think he was coming to see me when he was killed?"
"Yes. Had he called you, made plans to meet with you?"
"No, nothing. I wish he had. I've been against the sale of Green Pastures from the beginning. I think it's a mistake to give it up and have to take someone else's terms to be able to use it. That camp is too valuable to the community. I'm up there with groups half a dozen times a year. I'm going up this weekend as counselor for the synagogue.
"I just can't believe someone's willing to kill over this, though," he continued. "I wouldn't think Max Diamond would need the land that badly and none of the board members stand to gain anything personally whether the sale happens or not."
"I just want you to be careful," Cindy said. She was disappointed that he didn't seem to have any light to shed on the situation, but she hoped that she could at least keep something from happening to him as well.
"I will be," he said. "Thanks for the warning."
They left the coffee house and Larson walked her toward her car. It was dark and a light rain had begun to fall. There was no one else on the street and Cindy glanced around nervously.She trusted Larson, but something didn't feel right.
A man stepped out from a doorway directly into their path and Cindy saw the glint of metal in his hand. "Your wallet and your purse," a deep voice rasped.
Cindy screamed as Larson lunged toward the mugger. The gun went offand Larson fell against her. Together they crashed to the ground.
7
MARK WAS HEADING HOME WHEN PAUL CALLED HIM. "WHAT IS IT?" HE asked, hearing the tension in his partner's voice.
"Get over to the hospital now."
There was a click as Paul hung up. Mark turned on his siren and hung a U-turn in the middle of the street. He slammed his foot to the floor and screamed around startled drivers who hadn't had time to register his coming and pull over.
He spun to a screeching halt in the emergency room parking lot and sprinted inside. Paul met him just inside the door.Sitting on the ground rocking back and forth, head on her knees, was Cindy. There was blood on her clothes but she appeared uninjured.
"Is it the rabbi?" Mark asked.
"No. Larson Beck. He was shot by a mugger a few minutes ago. Doctors are in with him now."
"It wasn't a mugger!" Cindy wailed. "They just wanted you to think it was one!"
Mark dropped down beside her. "Cindy, it's Mark. Who wanted us to think that?"
She looked up at him. Her eyes were red and swollen, the pupils dilated unnaturally. She was shaking from head to toe and he could see that she had gone into shock. She was holding her right arm at an unnatural angle and he realized the shoulder was dislocated. He swore and didn't bother to hide it.A dozen nurses and doctors flying around her and not one of them had realized she was also in need of medical attention.
"Nurse!" he shouted.
"Wha
t is it, Detective?" a woman bustled up.
"This woman has gone into shock and her arm's dislocated.Admit her now."
"Yes, sir," the woman said. "Gurney!" she shouted.
Mark helped Cindy to stand and then to sit down on the gurney.
"I don't want to lie down," she told him.
"Do it for me," he urged.
She did and grunted in pain.
"Cindy, who wanted us to think this was a mugging?" Mark asked again.
"The same people who wanted you to think all the other murders were accidents," Cindy said.
A nurse wheeled her offthen and Mark stood and stared after her, belatedly realizing that he, too, was shaking.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again, civilians shouldn't get involved," Paul said.
Mark turned on him, anger settling in the pit of his stomach."For all we know she's the only reason that our victim is alive."
Paul grunted but didn't say anything.
"I need a drink," Mark said.
"Coffee in the hospital cafeteria is all I can offer you."
"We should leave our number so they can call the moment there's anything to report."
"I already have," Paul said. "Let's go get that coffee and talk."
As they walked to the cafeteria Mark called his wife and told her not to wait dinner for him.
"It's nice that she's so understanding," Paul said.
"Yeah, but I wish it wasn't necessary," Mark answered.
After they had their coffee in hand they selected a table at the far end of the cafeteria. The one nice thing about the facility was it was designed so that people could obtain a measure of privacy if they wanted it.
"I heard on the scanner that there had been a shooting involving a man and a woman. I had a bad feeling and I was two blocks away so I got there right as the ambulance did. I saw who it was," Paul said.
He took another swig of coffee and continued, "Larson was down. There was a lot of blood. I'm not sure if he was hit in the chest or the shoulder. A witness who had been parking her car said she had seen a man in a ski mask running away from the scene. She was the one who called 911. Cindy went with Larson in the ambulance, but no one looked at her to realize what kind of shape she was in until you did. Including me.I'm sorry."
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