Reading Between the Crimes

by Kate Young

  LJ called him. “And you checked phone records then?”

  “We have. So far, it turns out to be a burner they used.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Useless people. You’d have to be out of your mind to believe some cockeyed story like that.” My free hand went to my hip, and I could feel my blood about to boil. Today had been a day from hell, and I barely had control over myself. “Why in the world would I want to be tasered by some lowlife?” My face heated. “Have you seen the video footage, Detective? It’s flipping humiliating!”

  “People do crazy things all the time.”

  “Yeah, like accuse someone of hiring their attacker.” I tossed my hair back and blew out a deep breath.

  “Or harbor murderers in their homes.”

  Ah, the real reason why he’s here. He probably flew directly over here after leaving the courthouse, and lay in wait to pounce. I should have gone to the office. I certainly wasn’t ready to go to my parents’ house yet. If I couldn’t control my temper with this guy, I would fail miserably with Mother.

  I decided to evade. “Okay. What do you need from me to rule this asinine theory out?”

  “Your bank records. Morales said you sent a man with a thousand dollars in cash and promised another thousand after he attacked you. He also said you were looking for a murder for hire for fifty thousand. A week prior.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. For the Leonard Richardson hit. I see. In a misguided effort to help my poor friend get out of her marriage, you think I paid someone to kill her husband.” I held up a finger. “No, wait. A murder that took place in my parents’ house without care for their safety or mental well-being.” I rolled my eyes in the same fashion Beatrice had. “If you want to look at my bank records and see that I did not draw out the money, nor would I have the funds to pay fifty thousand for a hitman, I’ll grant you access. I have nothing to hide. Where do I sign?”

  “I appreciate your cooperation. I’ll have someone get in touch with you if it comes to that.”

  Oh please. “Sure. Excuse me.” I motioned to my front door.

  He stepped aside and started down the stoop. I struggled with my keys, ready to unlock the door.

  “One more thing,” he called from behind me.

  Sighing, I turned around and faced him.

  “Your mother isn’t hurting for money, and she has a keen interest in Harper Richardson.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve already charged Harper for the crime. She was arraigned an hour ago. Now, because my mother extended a helping hand to her, you want to go after her as well?”

  “I’ll go after anyone and everyone involved in the murder. I go where the case takes me.”

  I sighed, giving him what I hoped looked like a bored expression. “Got ya. I guess I expected more from a detective of your caliber. Brad tells me that you are tough but always search for the truth and almost always get your man. I usually agree with Brad’s assessments. But,” I said, shaking my head, “I’ll admit I’m struggling with the theory that my mother decided to risk her reputation and her family by having me attacked after she hired someone to murder Harper’s husband. Makes real good sense, Detective. You must be proud.” I turned back around and shoved the key into the lock, opening the door.

  “Did Mrs. Richardson say how long she and her stepson have been sleeping together? Is that why you thought LJ was the one who hired Morales?”

  A slow smile spread across my lips as I turned again and began to laugh. “You’re not stupid, are you? Harper didn’t give me specifics of her affair. And I don’t have anything solid to suspect LJ, so call it a hunch.”

  He inclined his head. “Okay. Harper did tell you about her affair with LJ Richardson?”

  I nodded. “Yes. After Leonard’s murder, she did. Before that night in the hospital, I hadn’t a clue.” Not a real clue anyway.

  “Your friend Amelia said Harper told her of trouble.” He kept his face relaxed.

  “Okay.” I sighed.

  “You seemed surprised when the defense fired your firm this morning.”

  I inhaled, put my heavy bags right inside the door, and turned back around. “Yes. Mainly because I’d just discovered a key piece of evidence for the defense.”

  He lifted a hand as if to say “And?” When I didn’t respond, he said, “Because of this so-called evidence you produced and your mother’s declaration in the courtroom, you were so surprised you were off the case?”

  “Yes. I never said my dismissal had anything to do with my mother. Though, it’s no secret that she’s never approved of my career path and could use her influence in this case if she chose. That still doesn’t make her the monster you paint her as. The way I see it, it makes her just like a ton of other mothers in this town.”

  “Must be rough.”

  I’d had enough. “Okay, Detective. I’m going in now. Get back to me when you find out who wanted to assault me in public.”

  “Not my case.” He turned around and strolled toward the gray Lincoln Town car. “You are quite a surprise.”

  “Why, because I’m not stupid either?” I didn’t wait for a response. I went inside, shutting the door behind me. I rested my back against it and took several deep breaths, allowing the bags to slide down my arm and rest on the floor. I wiped my palms on my slacks. My hands were shaking a bit now.

  My phone buzzed in my bag, and I bent down to retrieve it. Still feeling a bit weak, I decided to sit on the floor. “Hey, Brad.”

  “Hey. Wow. I just caught the news.” I could hear car noises.

  “Yeah. It’s been a day. Detective Battle was just here adding to it. The Spider guy woke up and is claiming I hired him to attack me.” I fingered the zipper on the black computer bag.

  “They won’t buy that. It won’t take anything to find evidence against that theory.”

  “I know. I think the detective is more interested in LJ than me, and maybe my mother. I hadn’t quite worked that out yet. And Brad, something crazy is going on with her.”

  “Like?”

  I took a deep breath and stared at my popcorn ceiling. I’d always planned to have it redone. “I’m still processing.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m about to give you more to process.”

  “Go on.” I really needed to dust my ceiling. “The fresh bodies? The Janes?” I tried to show interest in the new dumping ground cases. Soon, once I wrapped my head around what I was currently dealing with, I’d be ready to dive into the recent cases with renewed vigor. Now, I’d have to scrounge up what I could manage.

  “No. A buddy of mine happens to be working a case about a quarter mile from the usual dumping ground site. We were discussing our cases over a cup of coffee, and something about his murders clicked.”

  “Okay.” My tone sounded weary even to my own ears. I usually eagerly listened to all the shop talk. I just didn’t have the bandwidth right now.

  “The deceased woman had identification on her. It seems Phyllis Johnson is no longer with us. She, along with an unidentified male, were found in her Ford Focus at the bottom of a pond. There were both shot in the head. Execution style.” My face tingled as he continued setting the scene. “They probably would have stayed there if the county hadn’t deemed the pond runoff waste from the power plant and had it drained.”

  “My God.” My fingers went to my parted lips. “Are the local police planning on notifying Harper?”

  “I think they’re going to have the coroner go over dental records to be sure of identification before notification.” I heard his turn signal.

  Time to woman up! I had cases to solve.

  “Right. Of course. Have to dot the ‘i’s’ and cross the ‘t’s.’”

  “You sound frazzled. Take a deep breath. Focus on one task at a time. Babe, you are stronger than you know.”

  God, he was so good for me. “I hear you.” I rose off the floor and hefted the bag over to the breakfast table. Harper already had more to deal with than I had. No more feeling sorry for myse
lf. There was absolutely nothing I could do to bring her aunt back, but I could do everything in my power to help her. If I found enough evidence, what could Mr. Jenkins do? Turn me away and not use it? Not a chance. Especially if I went through my mother, who had an invested interest in helping her new prodigy. I decided not to focus on her having me fired. I shoved it to the back of my mind for another time. One thing at a time. There might be something on Charles’s computer to help Harper and me both. Perhaps LJ went on record, and I could use it against him. Because right now he was my sole focus. I would not let him ruin Harper.

  “Two deep breaths, and then tell me how you are?”

  In through the nose and out through the mouth. “Okay. I’ve got my big girl panties pulled up, and I’m determined to unearth everything. It’s time for truth.”

  “That’s my girl.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Are you still planning to kick off the pub crawl tonight, or is that a no-go after the day you’ve had? Because if you need me, I can be back into Sweet Mountain if I check out of the hotel now and bypass the station. I’ll have to leave first thing in the morning, though.”

  I had built my life by being my own hero. I wouldn’t stop that now by asking him to reroute his life for me. When he worked on big cases, we’d go long stretches without seeing each other, in the same way he understood if I was busy with work.

  “Don’t. I’m going to work.” I went over to the coffeepot and started it up. “We’ll see each other on Saturday for the all-day crawl, as we planned.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I glanced over at the bag sitting on the table. “Definitely.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I checked the clock. I unzipped the bag. I hadn’t told Brad about the stolen computer. He didn’t need to be bloodied by my decisions. To me, the risk was not only worth it but advantageous. I’d take my chances.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  In a matter of an hour, and with the help of some handy software, I’d managed to crack Charles’s password. I accessed all his documents with ease, which included his attempt at a novel. I wouldn’t even call it a story. Perhaps it was his initial research. He’d compiled a bunch of facts about the strange movement. There were all these weird laws I couldn’t discern—things about what to eat on what day and who could lead which group. There were categories for each type of facet within the group. As interesting as all this was—and it might help Harper prove her husband’s frame of mind—an overwhelming sense of disappointment overtook me. There wasn’t anything specific I could use.

  Everything seemed like nonsense to me, and not the smoking gun I’d hope for. When Beatrice had behaved the way she had, I’d thought I was going to find out that Charles had evidence that LJ killed his father and attacked me, and, dare I say, I also wished for an audio confession. There wasn’t anything like that on this computer. However, I continued to search Charles’s files.

  I tapped on the document titled “The Legacy of Father Bingham. The picture he’d given me that matched the enlarged print in the Richardson home popped up on the screen. Someone had drawn a big circle around the tallest man’s head. A line drawn out to the side read “Father Bingham Folsom.” Folsom? Why was that name familiar? I took a sip of my Coke Zero. The next few people had names that didn’t ring a bell. But then I spied Leonard Richardson’s name, and though I’d suspected as much, it still shook me to read my mother’s and grandmother’s names. My grandmother had a massive X over her face, and my mother had what appeared to be an infinity symbol drawn next to her. Another girl, standing on the opposite side of Father Bingham, also had the same symbol.

  Huh. I did a quick search on the computer. Yes! He had a document entitled “Symbols.” I scrolled down the doc and read that the infinity symbol meant future mothers of the movement.

  My stomach turned. Were these girls supposed to be breeders? These crazy people had tagged my mother like an animal, to further the populace of their insane lifestyle. No wonder my grandmother had fled in the night. I wished I’d known her better. Finally, I understood why I’d found it so difficult to locate my mother and uncle’s past. I’d had their surname all wrong. Folsom. It clicked! The name Charles had freaked Uncle Calvin out by mentioning. He’d known all along who Calvin was and how he’d been adopted. How?

  Going back to the image, I stared at the little face of my much younger teenage uncle. He had such a stern and angry appearance. Someone had drawn a line from Calvin’s picture and printed under his name “a future enforcer.”

  I sat back and gaped. “What did y’all live through?” I said aloud.

  I grabbed my laptop and went into my data bases to search Calvin Folsom. Nothing. I searched Mother’s name with the same result. I got a hit when I plugged in “Bingham Folsom.” News reports and old newspaper images came up on the screen.

  “Local Raid on a Commune” one headline read. The date at the top of the paper read 1964.

  Before dawn on July 26, 1964, 100 Oklahoma officers of public safety and soldiers from the Oklahoma National Guard entered the Plains Commune. The community—composed of approximately 200 minimalistic fundamentalists—had been tipped off about the planned raid after abuse reports were filed with the local police department by a previous member, and were packing up to leave. The group leader, known as Father Bingham Folsom, resisted arrest and incited violence by shouting orders to the elders within his movement, who attempted to attack arresting officers. The officers took the entire community into custody. Among those taken were 112 children. Seventy of the children who were taken into custody were not permitted to return to their parents. None of the children born in the commune were registered with the state of Oklahoma. Girls in the commune were forced to marry at 14, some to men as old as 70.

  I couldn’t read anymore.

  “Oh, Mother.” I felt ill.

  My grandmother, the one with the massive X over her face, had reported the group and fled the commune in the middle of the night. I just knew it. She probably ran to save my mother, who would have become a child bride. No wonder my mother had struggled and wanted me to be so strong.

  That man doesn’t deserve our sympathy. My bones chilled once again. She knew Leonard, and if she believed he planned on starting up another commune to abuse children, then by God, she was right. If only she’d confided in me and explained why she needed her life to be the way it was. Things would have been different between us. When she had me, she’d probably envisioned the life she’d never had. And when I became interested in true crime and working in the field, she believed she’d failed. Now she was trying to save Harper as her mother had saved her. Bless her heart. I saw my mother in a completely different light now. And my uncle. We’d all have to sit down and clear the air, wouldn’t we?

  I wondered if Leonard had recruited Charles or if Charles had found Leonard. I felt confident that Charles planned to write about their past and tie it together in some mystery thriller. And it would be a great story—a story I could not let him write.

  I sighed. Bea meant well, turning over the clues that would leave me to discover my family’s past. Yet I knew that in turn she wanted my help in sending her father’s murderer to jail. Which told me she didn’t believe it was Harper. I’d hold up my end and disentangle us from contributing to Charles’s story in the process. Or I’d try to.

  My cell rang, and I glanced down and saw Mel’s face come up on the screen. I slid the green phone icon over to answer. “Hey, Mel. You on your way?” I was eager to share what I’d learned with my best friend. I had to tell someone.

  “Hey,” Mel whispered, her face too close to the screen.

  “Why are you whispering?” I closed the laptop and slid it back into the bag.

  “Because I’m in my car. I finished up at the shop a while ago. Amelia called, and she and Ethan came down with the stomach bug.”

  “Oh no.” Poor Amelia. I’d have to call and check in with her.

  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m cal
ling. She asked me to drop some ginger ale and other supplies at their front door. On my way back through town, you’ll never guess who I saw right in the middle of everything!”

  “Who?” I picked up the phone.

  “LJ Richardson and his band of weirdos.”

  “What?”

  “Yep. I drove around the square and parked in the second lot behind the new brewery, where I can keep and eye on them. I’m watching them right now, yucking it up and enjoying our local craft beers after LJ hurt you and while poor Harper is on house arrest. The jerk!” I could almost see steam emanating from my friend’s ears. She flipped the view around, and sure enough, I could see LJ dressed in a faded denim jacket and matching jeans, standing in a group of men laughing. “I’m just calling to say I’m going over there and mess him up. If something happens to me—”

  “Melanie Smart! You stay put.” I was on my feet, grabbing my purse and shoving my feet into my shoes. “I’m coming to meet you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I flew out the door and was there in less than fifteen minutes. I’d forced Melanie to stay on the phone with me the entire time. When she got worked up, you never could tell what she’d do. She cared deeply and would do anything for her friends. And while I admired and loved that about my best friend, I did not want her to end up in a jail cell tonight. Darkness had fallen by the time I parked, and I moved through the crowd toward the brewery.

  “Where are you?” Mel hissed in my ear. I’d switched to my earbuds after I parked.

  “Right behind you.” I could see her standing with a beer in her hand by a large maple.

  Mel turned around, so swiftly her ponytail slapped a lady in the face. “Sorry.” Mel made an apologetic face at the scowling woman, whose presumed boyfriend laughed and winked at Mel—a gesture his girlfriend did not care for, and she gave his tummy a little slap to the midsection before stalking off.

  I was shaking my head when Mel spotted me. “God. People. You’d think I asked that guy to wink at me.” Mel gave me a side hug.