The Sibling

by Diane Moody

  “Copy that.”

  In any other setting, Peyton might have smiled at Cameron’s strictly business demeanor. But not today. He turned to glance into the baptistry where Harley Creech had perished, imagining what could have happened and wondering how he died. What was he doing here? Was he scared? Was he surprised? Was the killer someone he knew?

  Peyton turned, closing his eyes to shut out the image of Harley’s face and found no relief when he threw up.

  Chapter 8

  On Monday morning, Peyton walked across Braxton Square after dropping off his shirts at Bert’s Laundry before going to his office. He had a feeling the small town would be rife with gossip and speculation about the suspicious death of Harley Creech. Which is why he had skipped breakfast at Denton’s, opting for a bowl of cereal before he left the parsonage. Jeff had warned him to be careful about engaging in conversations on the subject. In his early morning prayers, Peyton asked the Lord for an abundance of patience and discretion to face all the encounters the day would bring.

  As he passed A Little Bit of Everything, he was surprised to see the lights on inside. Glancing over to the counter, he spotted Faye’s daughter seated on a stool before a pile of what looked like ledgers. The sign still indicated the shop was closed, so he knocked on the window.

  She looked up, pulling off a pair of glasses, and smiled back at him. A moment later, she unlocked and opened the door.

  “Hello Peyton.”

  “Hi Aubrey. I was just passing by on my way to work and spotted you through the window. Is everything okay?”

  “Uh, well … no, not exactly.” She pushed her hair back over her shoulder then paused her hand in midair. “Listen, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure. How can I help?”

  She let him in then locked the door again. “I’m trying to sort through the shop’s books, and I’m a little confused about something.”

  He followed her over to the counter. “In that case, I should warn you I probably won’t be much help. The way I see it, God wired some folks with brains for numbers, and the rest of us got … other gifts.”

  “And what are your other gifts?”

  “For starters, I’m a good listener.”

  “Which is just what I need. How about a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “Sounds great. Cream, no sugar.”

  “Same as mine. You can take a seat if you like.”

  She returned with two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to him.

  “Thanks.”

  She was dressed more casually today, wearing faded jeans with a blue and green plaid flannel shirt over a white T-shirt. And like her apparel, Aubrey seemed more relaxed. She took a sip of coffee, then set her mug down as she returned to her seat on the other side of the counter.

  “That had to be really rough for you—what happened at church yesterday.”

  He blew out a breath. “You have no idea.”

  “We made the mistake of going to Denton’s for lunch after they lifted the lockdown.”

  “I can only imagine. Stuff like this takes on a life of its own. And as you’ve probably noticed by now, the rumor mill is alive and well here in Braxton.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said, her smile drawing long dimples all the way from her cheeks to her chin. “But I guess that comes with the territory in a small town.”

  “Actually, I think it’s the same everywhere. Big city, little town—not much difference when it comes to gossip and rumors.”

  “You’ve lived in big cities?” she asked.

  “I was born and raised in Nashville. Not as big as New York, but big enough.”

  “Yeah, New York is way too big.”

  “But you like it there?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. Though sometimes I get tired of it. The commute, the traffic, wall-to-wall people. But for now it’s fine. It’s where I’m supposed to be.”

  “That wasn’t very convincing, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  She smiled again, her nose wrinkling a little. “Is that a preacher thing? Reading other people’s minds?”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Clairvoyance is actually my spiritual gift.”

  She shook her head, her green eyes brimming with laughter. “I’m sure it comes in handy.”

  He took another sip of coffee then set his mug back down. “But enough about me. What can I help you with today?”

  She put her glasses back on and placed her hands on the books. “This. And if it looks confusing, that’s because it is. For as long as I can remember, my father handled the finances in our family. And he was good at it. When I woke up early this morning, I tried to figure out how to go forward with this place. Mom loves the creative design part of the shop but hates the business part. Which presents an immediate problem. So, I decided to slip out before she got up and come take a peek at the books to see what kind of shape the business was in, check to see if any bills were due, that sort of thing.

  “And at first glance, it looks okay. They were never going to get rich running the shop, but that wasn’t the point. Mom has always loved finding hidden treasures, as she called them, then fashioning them in a thousand different ways. Our home in Memphis was crammed full with this stuff,” she said, waving at the store’s contents. When Daddy retired five years ago, he said it was Mom’s turn to have some fun. So he surprised her and bought the shop.”

  “She must have been thrilled.”

  “No, she wasn’t. At least not at first. She couldn’t understand why he’d pick a tiny town three hours away from Memphis. But Daddy had his reasons. He wanted to distance Mom from the whole social vortex in Memphis. He felt like it had sucked her in and dominated her life. And always had. Meaning, I got dragged into it when I was younger. The etiquette classes. The presentations. The cotillions. Always the pressure to date boys from the ‘right’ families. I hated it.”

  “My, my. I’m in the presence of a debutante and didn’t even know it? My apologies, Miss Evans.”

  She shook her head. “Please. Don’t even go there. Quite clearly it didn’t take. I’ll take jeans over ball gowns any day of the week.”

  “Did that cause trouble between you and your mother?”

  Aubrey scratched behind her ear. “Oh yes. We bumped heads a lot when I was growing up. But it was more than just our difference in style or appearances, or even our outlook on life. I was a daddy’s girl,” she said, a sad smile easing into place. “But then, I was an only child, so he didn’t have any options, did he?” she teased.

  “Nothing wrong with that. Your father was crazy about you.”

  Her eyes glistened, but she seemed to ignore them. “Yes, he was. And I adored him. But he was gone most of the time, and I missed him terribly when I was growing up. His mother, my Gran, lived with us and we were very close. I mean, what’s a kid supposed to do when her parents are always off doing their thing?

  “Anyway, somewhere along the line, it all started to upset Mom. She told me the other day she was actually jealous of the relationship I had with Gran. But at the time, Mom never said anything. That wasn’t her way. But in little ways, the kind no one else would notice, I suppose I knew she felt slighted.”

  “But your dad was just as crazy about Faye as he was you. Surely she knew that?”

  Aubrey shrugged. “She did. But here’s the thing. They went through a rough patch in their marriage not long before Dad retired. In fact, that’s why he chose to retire early rather than working until he was sixty-five. He wasn’t sure their marriage would survive another five years.”

  “I had no idea.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s what I started to explain a minute ago when I mentioned the whole social scene in Memphis. Most of her friends were extremely wealthy, and unfortunately, they weren’t a great influence on her. There were two friends in particular who seemed to manipulate Mom and use her. It made Daddy furious and caused a lot of tension whenever he was home.”

 
; “So he retired and bought her the shop here in tiny little Braxton,” Peyton summarized. “That makes sense now. But even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve never noticed her to be unhappy or to hate living here.”

  “That’s because she eventually came around. Daddy said it was like she went through a brief ‘detox’ period, getting all that other stuff out of her head. And gradually, she began to find happiness in having her own business and using her incredible talents instead of desperately trying to keep up with a bunch of rich socialites.”

  “That’s quite a story. But I’m glad to know she’s happy here. I’d hate to see her close the shop and move back to Memphis.”

  “You and me both.”

  Neither of them spoke for a moment, though their eyes stayed on each other’s. Until the awkward silence begged release.

  “I don’t know why I am telling you all this.” She shook her head while twisting her hair up into a knot on the top of her head. “I’m sorry. Apparently, I’m chasing rabbits today.”

  “No apology necessary. But is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “No. Well. Maybe?” she said, wrinkling her nose again.

  As the morning rays of sun lightened the room, he noticed the golden highlights in her hair. He found it increasingly hard to concentrate in her presence, and told himself to get a grip and stop staring at her.

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” she said, adjusting her glasses.

  “I’m not finding any problems with the books. Dad kept a perfect ledger of daily and monthly entries. I mean, see for yourself,” she said, turning the bound book for him to see. “It’s meticulous. Money in. Money out. All tax payments accounted for. It’s in perfect shape.”

  Peyton studied the open ledger, impressed by the elegance of the handwritten entries.

  “It looks great, but I have to ask. Why did Jed keep actual ledgers? Why didn’t he use one of the online software programs?”

  “Personal preference, I suppose. Dad knew how to use a computer, and he’d putz around online now and then. But he preferred having his financial records in hand. And then there’s the whole privacy issue. He didn’t like the idea of having his personal information floating out on some cloud that could be stolen.”

  “Well, he’s probably right about that.” Peyton turned the book back around for her. “So if everything is in order, why the concern?”

  She turned a page, then rotated the book back for him to see. She tapped her finger on an entry. “There. See that?”

  “Yes. It looks like a $2,000 loan to—oh my gosh.” He sat up and found her nodding, her eyes locked on his. “Is that—”

  “Yes. That’s a $2,000 loan to someone with the initials HC.”

  “But surely it’s not—”

  “Harley Creech?”

  Peyton’s cell phone rang. With his eyes still on Aubrey’s, he pulled it from his pocket. He glanced quickly at the name and knew he had to take the call.

  “Hey Jeff.”

  “Peyton, where are you? I stopped by the church, but you weren’t there.”

  “I’m over at Faye’s shop with Aubrey.”

  “Okay. I need you to come on over to the station.”

  “No problem. I need to run by my office first, but then I’ll—”

  “No Peyton. I need you to come right now, if you would.”

  “Oh. Okay. Then I guess I’m on my way.” He ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket.

  “I’m sorry, but apparently I’ve got to go.”

  She stood. “Peyton, please don’t say anything to the sheriff about this.”

  “I won’t. I promise. But why don’t you talk to your mother while I’m gone. See what she knows about that loan. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s not even Harley.”

  She nodded and reached for the keys then headed for the door.

  “Hey,” he said, touching her elbow. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “You sure about that?” she asked, unlocking the door.

  “No, I’m not sure. But I’m here if you need me, Aubrey. I’d like to help if I can.”

  As she turned to face him again, he acknowledged just how attracted to her he was. He stared into her eyes a moment longer, until he also realized how inappropriate those feelings were, given the circumstances. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled as he passed her.

  “Thanks, Peyton. I’ll see you later.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As he made his way down the sidewalk, he felt a strange and curious mix of both hope and … foreboding? Something like a chill snaked down his spine. He started praying and didn’t stop until he walked through the door of Braxton’s Sheriff Department.

  Chapter 9

  “Morning, Leslie. How are you?” he asked the sheriff’s receptionist.

  “Fine, Peyton. Just fine. Chief said for you to go on back to his office.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  He found Jeff’s office and knocked on the open door. “Came as quick as I could. What’s up?”

  “Have a seat, Peyton,” Jeff said, turning from his computer. “Cameron will join us shortly.”

  “Oh?”

  Jeff had not yet made eye contact which struck Peyton as odd.

  “Jeff?”

  He leaned forward planting his elbows on his desk and tented his fingers; his eyes focused on them. “Peyton, we’ve had a witness come forward.”

  “Really? That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “No, I’m afraid it’s not. Problem is, someone saw you coming out of the church at around nine-fifteen, nine-thirty on Saturday night.”

  “What? That’s impossible.”

  “Ordinarily I wouldn’t give it another thought, except that you told me during the lockdown that you hadn’t been there since early Saturday morning.”

  “That’s right. I wasn’t at the church on Saturday night.”

  “Are you positive?” The missing eye contact had morphed into a steely glare.

  “Am I positive? What kind of question is that? Why would I lie to you? I wasn’t there. C’mon, Jeff. What’s going on?”

  “Do you have an alibi? Someone who can corroborate where you were Saturday evening?”

  “Wait—is this some kind of joke?” A split second of relief shot through him, framing a half-smile on his face. “Did someone put you up to this? To go all hardcore cop on me?”

  Jeff shook his head slowly, his eyes still locked on Peyton’s. “This is not a joke. I’m afraid it’s quite serious.”

  And just that fast, Peyton’s relief vanished. “Then who is this witness? Maybe it’s their idea of a joke.”

  “It’s Ida Rose. She swears she—”

  “Ida Rose?” he scoffed, jumping out of his chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That woman has targeted the church for years with her fabricated stories. She’s an atheist. Everyone in town knows she’s tried every trick in the book to make trouble for our church. She had it in for Dr. McKetchan, and when he left, she put the target on my back.”

  Peyton leaned over the desk, bracing his hands on the edge of it. “Honestly, Jeff, I can’t believe you’d take her seriously about anything, let alone something like this! Can’t you see she’s just using this whole mess with Harley’s murder as another attempt to take us down?”

  “Sit down, Peyton.”

  His heart pounded as he stared at Jeff another moment before dropping back into his chair. “I don’t mind telling you, this really chafes my … it ticks me off. I thought you and I were friends. I thought you knew me better than this. To throw an accusation like this at me? What’s gotten into you?”

  “Our friendship has nothing to do with this. I’m just doing my job. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’d be completely remiss if I didn’t work this like any other investigation. Friend or no friend.”

  “Well, doesn’t that just make me feel all comfy cozy inside?”

  Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose then leaned back i
n his chair, the springs creaking in the silence between them. “Apart from Miss Rose’s insistence that she saw you there that night—”

  “Which is a bald faced lie.”

  “—I also received the preliminary coroner’s report this morning. The autopsy indicates that time of death was sometime between nine and ten on Saturday night. That, plus the fact there was no water in Harley’s lungs, validates the timeline that he was dead before the water started filling the baptistry at ten-thirty.”

  Peyton stared at him with a fake smile. “Well, there you have it. Proof positive I killed him.”

  “So give me an alibi. Someone who can tell me where you were on Saturday night.”

  “No problem. I was with Macy. I take her for a walk every night around nine.”

  “How long were you gone?”

  “Normally we walk for twenty minutes or so.”

  “Anybody see you Saturday night?”

  “No. We walked along the riverbank, but we were the only ones there.”

  Jeff studied him but didn’t say anything. Peyton heard footsteps approaching before Cameron appeared and stood in the doorway.

  “So why not send Cameron over to my house to pick up Macy?” He turned to face the deputy. “Got any of those zip cuffs? I’m thinking handcuffs will be a little big for her skinny legs.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got some in the—”

  “He’s teasing, Cameron,” Jeff said, his voice sounding as weary as he looked. “Peyton, look … I’m really sorry about this. I’m just doing my job here.”

  “Then look me in the eye and tell me you honestly think I could murder someone.”

  Jeff blinked with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I have a job to do. We had a dead body in your church baptistry. A beloved member of our community. And I owe it to Harley to find out what happened.”

  Peyton blew out a noisy sigh. “But somehow you don’t owe it to me to honor the whole ‘innocent until proven guilty’ rule of law?”

  “Of course, I do. Which is why you can walk out of here and go on about your business.”

  “But I’m still a suspect, right?”