by Gary Parker
Luke hung his head and she suddenly felt sorry for him. This hurt him more than she imagined. He really did care about this, about . . . about her.
“Hey, Luke, it’s okay,” she soothed. “Nothing can be any worse than what I’ve already faced. Just go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I can deal with it. As the saying goes, ‘There’s nothing too big that the Lord and I together can’t handle.’”
He raised his eyes, and Connie saw moisture in them. He choked as he spoke. “He’s with the woman, Mrs. Brandon, the woman . . . who told me about the affair. You can’t prove anything for certain by it . . . but you can tell they know each other, they touch, you see, not intimately, but like two people who have a relationship. Add to that the fact that she stayed at several hotels in Jefferson City over the last few months. She even came into the store some; Andy saw her there several times. I wish I didn’t have to say all this. I’m sorry to bring you such awful news, but that’s the way the video shows it, and I just didn’t know anything else but to tell you . . . ”
His voice dropped, and Connie sat there stunned. Neither of them spoke for a couple of long minutes. Luke stroked his beard, his eyes down, and Connie fought back the tears that threatened to wash away what she had left of her spirit. She nodded toward the video, still held under his arm. “Did you watch it?”
He looked up and nodded.
“Plug it in.” She pointed to the television in the corner.
He stood and walked to it, slipping the video into the VCR. Five seconds later, the screen clicked and turned bright and Jack’s pleasant face appeared.
Connie watched the video in silence. As the images flickered on the screen, she found herself becoming angry at Jack, then at the woman on the screen, then at herself . . . and finally at God. It all made so much sense now! Jack did have a motive for suicide. Guilt—simple as that. He did have a conscience. He had preached one message all his life—do what’s right. If she heard it once, she heard it a thousand times.
An interesting notion popped into her head. Maybe Jack had killed himself, then set up the contradictory clues—the keyboard without fingerprints, the misspelling of Kate for Katie, the lump on his own head. Maybe he wanted it to look like murder so the insurance company would pay off for her and the children. It sounded like one of the mysteries he read from time to time.
But what about this woman? This tape would destroy even his best efforts to make it look like murder.
Johnson Mack came to mind. She would need to sell him the store, get the money, and leave town. If Jack had an affair with this woman, then she wanted nothing else to do with anything he once touched or loved. She would sell the house and the store. Give away Jack’s few possessions, purge her life of anything and everything that reminded her of him. The video screen went blank. It took Connie a moment to realize it had ended. She glanced over at Luke. He had his eyes down, examining his shoes as if hypnotized by them. Connie exhaled in a long, cleansing breath.
”Well,” she said. “Now I know. The facts keep stacking up. As much as I might want to deny it, Jack obviously had something going on with that woman. The video, the motel charges, the statement she gave you, the fact that Andy saw her in the store. Not much way around it. If it wasn’t an affair, it sure walked and talked and quacked like an affair.”
She stood up and pulled the video out. “You keep this, Luke. I don’t think I want it in the house.”
“I can understand that.” He took the video.
“I assume this means the investigation stops.”
“That’s right. I talked to the mayor and police chief this morning. As they see it, the video makes the suicide note sound authentic.”
“You agree with them?”
Luke rubbed his beard. “I’m not 100 percent positive, but at this point, I don’t see any other logical explanation. I’m open to another look if someone gives me a reason, but—”
“But this video sheds a whole new light on things.”
“Exactly. The mayor says this settles it.”
Connie wondered if the mayor knew about the insurance. If so, he certainly wanted this declared a suicide. She started to tell Luke but feared her suspicions would sound desperate. Not much chance Luke would act on such a flimsy possibility. She dismissed the idea and moved to another concern. “Can we keep this quiet?” she asked.
Luke nodded quickly. “Don’t see why not. With the investigation closed, no reason to say anything more.”
“Good, that’ll spare my kids a bit of pain.”
“Glad to do it.”
Connie changed the subject. “Who’s the woman?”
“Huh?”
“Her name, Luke. The woman’s name.”
He gave it without hesitation. “Sandra Lunsford. But you won’t need her address. The guys from Columbia called me this morning. They went by last night. This time they found everything gone from the apartment. Cleaned out.”
Connie swallowed, gathering herself. Okay. Time to go to Plan B. Though it looked like an affair was indeed probable and she couldn’t confront the woman, she could still find out about Reed Morrison. She would too. Though the mystery of Jack’s death now seemed explainable, another mystery lay in Las Vegas. Why did Jack pay Morrison such money? Maybe the two riddles had no connection, but somehow, she still thought they did. One way or the other, she planned to find out. If nothing else, Morrison might know Lunsford, tell her why Jack fell for her.
Facing Luke again, she held out her hand. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “And thanks for your sensitivity. I know this wasn’t easy for you.”
“Easier on me than you,” he said, his voice sincere.
She sighed. “I’m okay. Just takes some adjustment, you know?”
“I’m sure it does. I’m amazed you’re hanging in as well as you are.”
“God’s grace,” she whispered, “is sufficient.”
“I pray it will be.” He stood, and she led him to the door. As he stepped outside, he turned back to her one more time.
“Look, Mrs. Brandon . . . I don’t want you to take this the wrong way . . . but . . . well . . . would you mind if I checked on you every now and again? Just to see if you need anything?”
Not sure how to read the question, Connie studied his eyes. As gray as ever but not intimidating anymore. Kindly, caring. What harm could it do for him to call her?
“That would be fine,” she said. “And if I need you, I know I can call.”
He smiled briefly, then stepped to his car.
Before he started the engine, Connie ducked back inside. She had to get a ticket to Vegas, and she wanted to catch the next day’s 1:20 flight.
*****
Three minutes after Connie finished her phone call to TWA, Brit smoothed down his ponytail and flipped open his cell phone.
“She’s headed to Vegas tomorrow on the one-twenty,” he said, his right thumb drumming a steady beat on the Jag’s steering wheel.
“Get there before she does. You and Lennie take care of business. Don’t allow a hook-up.”
“On the way.”
“Good, don’t hurt her unless it’s necessary.”
“I know the score.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Brit closed the phone and considered Connie Brandon— Red, as he called her. A smart woman. Maybe too smart. No threat yet. But who knew what the future would bring.
CHAPTER
16
Keeping their normal schedule, Connie called Daniel and Katie into her room about 9:00 P.M. for their devotional. Daniel, still wearing his baseball practice clothes, rested against the headboard of the bed, a baseball in his left hand, his Bible open on his lap, his feet almost reaching the end. Katie wore her pajamas, a Lion King nightshirt that reached to her calves, and she lay in a fetal position beside Daniel, her big brown eyes open but already dulled by coming sleep. She held a Tabasco Beanie Baby in her arms. Just out of the shower, Connie had wrapped a towel around her wet hair and slipped into
a pair of full-length beige cotton pajamas.
Climbing onto the bed, she sat cross-legged beside Katie and asked Daniel to read the passage he had selected. He lay aside the baseball, lifted the Bible, and held it close to his face.
“This is Proverbs 3, verses 5 and 6,” he said. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.” With a satisfied nod, he closed the Bible and lay back again.
“Daddy liked that one,” Katie said, her eyes barely open. “He read that to us not too long ago.”
“That’s why I read it,” said Daniel. “Because Dad liked it.”
“What does it mean?” asked Katie.
Daniel turned to Connie. “Mom, tell her what it means. I could, but I don’t want to show off.”
Connie smiled at him, then patted Katie on the bottom. “Well, it means that God wants us to depend on him, not think we can figure things out for ourselves. Our understanding can get all mixed up. But God knows what’s happening and will take us the right way if we just follow his spiritual guidelines.”
“So we just trust God and God takes care of us,” said Katie.
“You’re mighty wise for seven years old,” said Connie, stroking her hair. “Mighty wise.”
Several seconds passed. Daniel rubbed his head. “I’m going to let my hair grow out some,” he said to no one in particular. “It’s so short now it itches.”
“I heard Melissa say she liked it short,” chimed Katie. “Better not cut it, or she won’t like you anymore.”
“Who cares what Melissa thinks? I don’t like her!”
“Yes, you do. Her sister told me she saw you kiss her!”
Connie moved to Daniel’s side and listened as her children picked on each other. It sounded comforting for them to go on this way. What amazing resilience children had! Able to take almost any circumstance and survive it.
“Sit up here,” she said to Katie. “Come sit by Mama.”
Katie obeyed, and Connie wrapped her left arm around her and her right arm around Daniel. Katie lay her head on Connie’s shoulder, and all three of them became quiet, the weariness of a busy day settling in. Connie took a deep breath.
“I’m leaving on a short trip tomorrow,” she began.
“Where to?” asked Daniel.
“Can we go?” asked Katie.
“No, I’m going by myself. You guys will do your normal things. I’ll see you off to school in the morning. I talked to Mrs. Everhart earlier tonight. She’s going to stay with you the first day and night, then Tess the next one if I’m not back.”
“Where you going?” Daniel repeated his question.
“Well, you won’t believe this, but I’m going to Las Vegas.”
“Are you going to gamble?” Katie’s brown eyes widened like saucers.
Connie laughed. “No, precious. Mom is not going to gamble. Mom is going to look for a friend of Daddy’s.”
“I didn’t know Dad had any friends in Vegas,” said Daniel.
“Not everyone in Vegas is bad. Some of them are normal people, just like us.”
“Is Daddy’s friend a normal person?” asked Katie.
Connie considered the question. “I’ll know soon, I hope.”
“When will you get home?” Daniel asked.
“Not sure right now. Maybe one day, maybe two. But, if it takes a little longer, don’t worry. Tess and Mrs. Everhart will take good care of you, and I’ll call every night.”
Katie raised up and squeezed Tabasco to her chest. “Every night, Mommy, you promise you’ll call every night?”
Connie patted her red curls. “Every night, precious, every night.”
Satisfied, Katie lay back down, Tabasco under her chin. Connie faced Daniel. He nodded. “It’s time to pray,” he said.
Connie closed her eyes. “Katie, you go first.”
Katie yawned, then said, “Jesus, take care of Mommy while she travels. Take care of Daniel when he pitches baseball. Take care of me when I go to school and play. And take care of Daddy there with you. Amen.”
Daniel quickly followed. “Lord, we do ask for your protection on Mom. Give Mrs. Everhart and Miss Tess the strength they’ll need to take care of us. Continue to help us day by day as we deal with our . . . well, our . . . sorrow over Dad’s death. Thank you, Jesus, for being with us in all of this. Amen.”
Connie finished for them. “Our Lord, make us aware of your direction. We miss it far too often. We get uncertain of what to do. Show us the way. Mark it plain so even the slow to learn can see it. Give us courage too, Lord Jesus. Courage to do the right thing. Courage to follow your will. Help us to lean on your understanding and not our own. We love you, Lord, and thank you for loving us. Bless Daniel and Katie while I’m away and, like Daniel said, give Tess and Mrs. Everhart enough strength to take care of them. In your holy name we ask it. Amen.”
Daniel turned to her and wrapped his arms around her neck. Connie pulled Katie closer. For a long minute the three of them relaxed in the embrace, a warm triangle of love and devotion. Holding her children, Connie’s eyes watered and she closed them. “Protect them, Jesus,” she prayed silently. “No matter what I find in Las Vegas, protect my babies.”
*****
Standing by a swimming pool six miles out of Las Vegas, a lean man in his mid-forties wearing a white suit that cost him a thousand dollars slipped a cell phone from his jacket pocket and pressed it to his ear.
“Hey,” he said to the caller on the other end. “What’s the news?”
“Listen up, Lennie. She’s on the way out there.”
“She know anything?”
“Not much, I don’t think. But better safe than sorry.”
“So what you want me to do?”
“Help Brit if he needs it.”
“Brit coming out?” Lennie unbuttoned the white suit jacket.
“Yeah, should be there real soon. Stay close to him. He gets outside the lines sometimes, you know what I mean?”
“Sure, he’s a real cowboy. What’s she after?” Lennie buttoned his coat.
“More like who. Apparently she’s looking for Morrison.”
“So who isn’t? He disappeared a couple of days ago. Haven’t seen him since.”
“You know where he lives.”
“Sure, but he hasn’t been there for a while.”
“Keep an eye on his place. He has to come back sooner or later.”
“What a great idea! I’ll get right on it, right after I finish my swim.”
The line fell silent for a moment. When the man spoke again, his voice carried bullets in it. “Don’t forget your manners, Lennie. You’re not talking to Brit here. Just do your job and make sure it stays clean. You’re not indispensable you know.” The line went dead.
Unbuttoning his coat, Lennie slipped his phone into his breast pocket and wiped his forehead. How could he be so stupid? A guy could get in deep hooey talking to The Man like that. He’d made it real plain with that last line. Though careful of what he said over the cell phone, The Man made it clear. Do the job or else. Man, how could he be so stupid? He better find Morrison and fast.
*****
Back in Jefferson City, Connie peeped in on Katie and Daniel one more time to make sure they had fallen asleep. Their deep, regular breathing told her all was well. Good. She stepped to her bedroom, slipped into an off-white jogging suit and a pair of cross-trainer shoes. Then, her hair in a Cardinals baseball cap, she stepped out into the dark. She didn’t plan to go far, just a couple of blocks from the house, to an empty lot at the end of the road, a lot too steep for anyone to put a house on. It took only a couple of minutes to get there.
Walking to the back of the lot, a spot that overlooked the Missouri, she stared into the sky. From this vantage point, she could see for miles—the bluffs across the river, the sky a canopy of black and silver, and the river shimmering with the glow of moonlight. A light wind whipped across her neck, tickl
ing her under the cap. The moon, almost full, stared down at her like a friendly parent. A barge sat on the Missouri near the opposite shore, its lights warning any passing vessels to give it wide berth.Connie stood still and took a deep breath. Goodness, what a glorious night. But she didn’t feel like celebrating. Today she had learned that her husband had indeed had an affair. The news crushed everything she had ever trusted. She had fought against believing it, but the image of Jack kissing Sandra Lunsford shattered the last of her illusions. She knew Jack loved her and the kids, but something in him had snapped. Other men of God had faltered, and so had he.
Her shoulders slumped, Connie knew she should just give up. Sell the store to Mack, find a buyer for the house, and leave Jefferson City. That would give her money enough to make a decent start somewhere else. With Daniel and Katie, she could survive, maybe even find some semblance of happiness down the road. Skipping the trip to Las Vegas was surely the prudent path. But she knew she couldn’t do it. Skipping Las Vegas felt too much like running, and she had decided a long time ago she wasn’t a quitter. Her mom and dad had quit on each other and on her, but she wouldn’t follow their example. Having never had a home until she met Jack and settled in Jefferson City, she refused to give it up without a struggle. She might lose it eventually, but not because she backed away from the battle.
Reed Morrison might end up a dead end, but she had to make the effort to find out. If he didn’t pan out, okay. She could live with that. But she had to try. That’s all she could ask of herself. Staring at the sky, Connie took off her baseball cap and threw back her head. Her red hair, uncombed since her shower, fanned out in the breeze as vibrant as loose fire. With the cap in her right hand, Connie spread her arms as far as they would go, reaching from the east to the west. Spreading her legs and squaring her shoulders, she looked straight up into heaven and screamed as loudly as her voice would carry. “Whhhhhhhhhy?”
The wind picked up her scream and carried it up and down, across and over, a seed darting through the air, lifting it on the breeze, blowing it out over the river, dropping it to the ground, first in this place and then in another. On the barge below, a dog lifted his head and barked. Inside Connie’s house, Katie stirred in her sleep and squeezed Tabasco closer. A hundred yards away, if he’d still been sitting in his red import, Brit would have tilted his head in wonder.