Not of This Fold

by Mette Ivie Harrison

  Gore made a face. “Most white-collar businesses don’t keep security cameras inside their boardrooms,” she said.

  “And how close was this meeting to the Pro-Stop? Have you considered that they wouldn’t have noticed him being gone for fifteen or twenty minutes, and that’s all it might have taken for him to kill Gabriela?” I asked.

  I was sure I saw a flicker of light in Gore’s eyes. Maybe all wasn’t lost, after all.

  “You’re saying he went there with the intent to kill Gabriela,” Gore said slowly. “And the business meeting was a cover, planned for days beforehand.”

  “Yes!” Gwen said, punching a hand into her fist. “He’s the kind of man who plans everything. He doesn’t do anything he thinks won’t pay off for him.”

  Gore hesitated. Then she sighed. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Linda. But I need you to trust me at this point to take it from here. You, too, Mrs. Ferris.” A quelling look at Gwen. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I’m the detective here.”

  Her tone was less patronizing than pitying. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  “Are you going to do anything?” Gwen asked, despair warring with anger in her voice.

  “I told you, I will handle this. I’ll be watching Greg Hope carefully and checking into everything I can.” Her tone was curt now, dismissive. “Now, about that phone message?”

  Gwen looked defeated. She simply held her phone out and pressed the button for Gore to hear Gabriela’s terrified voice.

  I had to reach for a wall to remain standing.

  “I see. Thank you. We may need that. I’ll send it to myself.” She pressed another button on the phone, then typed in her own number. After a moment, she picked up her own phone to make sure it was there, then played it again, to ensure it had come through perfectly clear.

  It was devastating, especially after Gore had said it still wasn’t enough to prosecute Hope.

  “He’s a murderer, and no one knows,” Gwen muttered.

  Gore moved past her. With her hand on the door, she turned back and said, her tone cold, “I’m going to warn both of you one last time that this investigation is finished, and that you’re interfering in the judicial phase by trying to coax a criminal into retracting a sworn confession. In addition, if you continue to place yourself in dangerous situations when it is completely unnecessary, we may have to charge you with something ourselves, if only to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  I had the impression she’d prepared this speech for us because she’d known last time that we weren’t about to give up. She stared hard at Gwen, then me. I thought I saw a hint of compassion, but maybe just because that was what I’d been hoping to see.

  She added, “I just need you to wait a week or so, Linda.”

  What an odd thing to say. What did she mean?

  She put up a hand to stop me from asking anything else. “That’s all I need. For you two to stay out of trouble for a week. Goodbye.” She closed the door behind her, and Gwen and I stood there, shocked, as she drove away.

  Gwen thumped the door with a fist and then turned back to me. “How can she just ignore the truth like this?”

  I didn’t know what to think or feel. Was this Gore’s fault? The system’s? Or even Mormonism’s?

  Chapter 39

  Still depressed about the abrupt, disappointing end to Gabriela’s murder case, I was out running errands for Christmas the next week. It was hard to focus on such everyday things, but I was trying. I was sending a package to Samuel, and I wanted Kurt to sign a card for him, so I stopped by his office, which was conveniently located downtown by the shopping centers.

  The receptionist seemed to have stepped out, and I realized when I stood outside the door to Kurt’s office, which was ajar, that he was with a client. In fact, it was Greg Hope. I saw him as he leaned forward, his outline clear from the doorway, instantly recognizable by his wavy blond hair and strong shoulders. I hadn’t told Kurt everything that had happened with Carlos and Gwen and Gore, but I’d told him enough that I couldn’t believe that he was still thinking of taking on Hope’s business. The man was a conman and a murderer! Had Kurt decided that my opinions were really so worthless? I felt sick that he’d ignored my reservations so thoroughly.

  I considered walking out then and there, but decided that would let Kurt off the hook too easily. So I decided to listen in. Neither of them deserved privacy at this point. I glanced in quickly to get a sense of where they were, both standing over the desk, looking over a set of papers together. Then I crouched down just outside the door and shamelessly eavesdropped.

  “I don’t know what you’re seeing in those books, but there’s nothing missing,” said Hope. His voice was smooth and confident, but it raised my hackles, sounding completely canned to me. Did he practice these excuses standing in front of a mirror? Knowing what I knew of him now, probably. But it was Kurt’s attitude that really concerned me. He seemed conciliatory and eager to please.

  “I can’t help you with this if you don’t tell me the full story about your finances,” he said to Hope.

  Where was the moral core of the man I’d loved my whole life? Kurt was usually so unforgiving when it came to schemers like Hope, and I knew he hated multi-level marketing. Had the money offered been enough that even he’d been swayed?

  Kurt continued, “What you’ve given me so far is clearly missing some important pieces. I’ve got a degree specializing in corporate accounting, and I’ve been in the business for forty years. I know when there’s something fishy, and I can tell you that the IRS does, too. If they haven’t audited you yet, they will soon. They’re not idiots.”

  Okay, well that sounded better. Maybe he wasn’t just going to let Hope push him into whatever his dubious new business plans were. I was still crouched with my back pressed hard against the wall near the door, trying to hold myself very still and breathe as quietly as possible.

  “It sounds like you’re saying that I’ve done something illegal,” said Hope.

  I wished Kurt hadn’t brought Hope into the office. If he hadn’t wanted to work with him, surely he could have just handled this by phone with a brief and firm “No, thank you.”

  “Have you done something illegal?” Kurt asked.

  “Of course not,” replied Hope immediately.

  If Kurt said Hope was lying about his financial situation, it wasn’t debatable. Kurt had been at his job so long that he could sniff out shady dealings like a bloodhound. I silently cheered him on.

  “Then why are so many of these expenses unspecified? There are dozens of employees on the payroll who haven’t clocked any hours. And you were so close to bankruptcy just two years ago, how is it that you now seem to be swimming in cash?” Kurt asked.

  There was a bit of a silence, and then Hope’s chair creaked.

  My heart shot into my throat as I worried that he was going to try to harm Kurt.

  But Hope sighed and the chair squeaked again—which meant he was still in it. “I’m just trying to help out my employees. You know they’re not here legally, Kurt. They don’t have many other options, and if I paid them the going wage, they and their families would end up going hungry. There’s no ill intent on my side.”

  So Greg Hope was trying to play the bishop card with Kurt, get him to go along with his sketchy accounting practices because he was a “good guy.” If Kurt were anyone but the man I knew, it probably would have worked.

  “You’re going to owe some fines when it comes to the illegal workers,” Kurt said. “If it were just that, I’d be on board. I agree that it’s important to help people who are trying to better their lives, whatever their citizenship status.”

  “Well, then—” Hope started.

  But Kurt cut him off. “What I’m concerned about is your role in Gabriela Suarez’s murder.”

  What? I had to put my hand over my mouth
to cover a gasp. Why was Kurt confronting him directly like this? My mind whirled, and I could only think that somehow, Kurt was doing some kind of sting here. But why would he do that without any backup? Unless . . .

  Detective Gore had said in a week, I’d understand what she was doing. Had this been her plan? Maybe the only way to get evidence against him was to go inside with someone like Kurt.

  Hope said in that smooth, placating tone of his, “You know they already have Gabriela’s murderer in custody. I’m not proud of the way that I let her relationship with Carlos Santos go on under my nose, even though she was married to another man. That inaction led to her murder, I suspect, but I can’t be held legally accountable for it. I’ve already talked to President Frost about my lack of proper judgment and asked him to release me if his confidence was lost. But he said that every bishop makes mistakes, and that he feels God still wants me in this calling.”

  Yuck. Hope was so swarmy. I hated him even more now.

  “If that’s so, then why were you at the Pro-Stop when she was killed?” Kurt asked.

  I froze. This was dangerous now. Was Kurt recording this? If Gore was behind all of this, where was she now? Close enough to protect Kurt if something went wrong? I hadn’t seen anyone outside the office when I came in.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Hope. “I was at a meeting for Celestial Security that night. Ask anyone there.”

  “You were there, but why did you choose that location? You rented a meeting room two miles from the Pro-Stop when you could easily have had the meeting at your own offices instead. That would have made much more sense, in fact. But they weren’t close enough for you to step out and convince your clients that you’d just gone to the bathroom to deal with some stomach distress when you headed over to the Pro-Stop to meet with Gabriela and Carlos.”

  This had to have been fed to Kurt from Gore. I was both hopeful and terrified, holding my breath for Hope’s reaction.

  Hope paused, his chair creaking yet again, and finally spoke. “Fine. I went there to talk to her very briefly at the Pro-Stop the night she was killed, but I had nothing to do with her murder. She was trying to blackmail me, Kurt. She had this idea that I owed her more than I’d already paid for her years of work at the business. She’d already tried to ruin me by talking to your wife about the money I’d given her from the ward. President Frost called me, and then I had to deal with the threat of a stake audit.”

  “So you’re saying you never threatened to accuse her of embezzlement?” Kurt said.

  Hope made a sound of disgusted derision. “Of course not. She was the one who benefited from that salvo. And when I met her at the Pro-Stop, she made more threats against me. She was going to tell the police I’d been involved in some kind of robberies. And that I was blackmailing our customers on a grand scale. It was all lies, I swear to you.”

  Here was all the truth about Gabriela I wanted. I’d have felt a sense of relief and triumph if it wasn’t all so sad. And if Kurt wasn’t still in danger from the suspect in question.

  “Why didn’t you call the police on her, then?” Kurt asked.

  “Because I wasn’t afraid of her, Kurt. I walked away and went back to my meeting. I swear to you, Kurt. I never touched her. Carlos Santos killed her because she was going back to her husband and he was jealous.”

  Hope was starting to sound a little panicked. I wished I could see his face. Or maybe I didn’t. That glimpse into his real self wasn’t something I particularly wanted to repeat.

  “Why would you leave your dinner for a conversation you could have had during daylight hours at the Celestial Security officers?” Kurt said. “Unless it was about something untoward. Something you didn’t want anyone else to know about. Something you knew was going to end in a crime.”

  “I—I—” Hope stuttered. It was the first time I’d heard him really rattled, but it didn’t last. “Kurt, you can’t think I’m a murderer. I would never harm anyone. I might have been frightened and reacted badly to the threat to my family’s safety, but I would never do something so far from the light of Christ within me. I know God’s laws.”

  “Do you? If you did, you’d confess to killing her. You’d remember that if you don’t admit to your sins, you have to pay for them all by yourself, and Christ’s Atonement has no application to you,” Kurt said harshly.

  I could hear the tension in my husband’s voice. He wasn’t used to this kind of interrogation. He was probably sweating buckets. And at some point, Hope was going to realize this was a sting operation. If Gore had given this information to Kurt, hoping he would confront Hope like this, did that mean she was nearby somewhere, listening in to see if Kurt had gotten all the admissions she needed? I really hoped so, but I wasn’t sure I could count on it.

  “But I didn’t kill her, Kurt!” Hope insisted. “She was unhinged. She just wanted money. Gabriela Suarez was a greedy woman. That’s all these illegal immigrants want when they come to America. They’re trying to take what’s ours.”

  Wow. I couldn’t believe he’d said that aloud, after the earlier show of his supposed sympathy for his ward members and employees.

  There was a long silence. I tried to breathe shallowly, evenly—and quietly.

  “I can see why you couldn’t allow her to ruin everything you and your family have worked so hard for, just because she wanted to line her own pockets,” Kurt said.

  I guessed this was a concerted effort to sound like a potential co-conspirator. If I hadn’t been so afraid for him, I would have laughed. Good old Kurt, still the man I’d always known he was.

  But Hope sounded a little more self-assured after this. “She was a woman with only one thing in mind. She pretended to be a member of the church, but that was just a blind. She was using her membership to get to me, to ruin me.”

  I rolled my eyes and for one moment, was less worried about Kurt. Maybe Hope was too self-obsessed and venal to realize what was going on.

  “And I can see how you’d feel like it wasn’t just your reputation on the line,” Kurt offered. “It was the church you were protecting, too. If you allowed her to smear your good name, it would make the whole church look bad.”

  “Exactly. Not to mention the fact that my company would go under, and all the people I’m working with in the Spanish ward would lose their livelihoods. Their families would suffer enormously. I had to stop her for their sakes, not just mine.”

  I was pretty sure that I couldn’t have gone along with Greg Hope like this, pretending I agreed with him. Which must have been why Gore had gone to Kurt instead of me. And of course, the fact that Kurt was another bishop, a fellow priesthood holder in the church, whom Hope would think he could trust—and manipulate.

  “Listen. I might be able to help you with this if you explain the details behind the robberies you mentioned Gabriela being involved with,” Kurt said softly. “We can find a workaround on this if I have the full picture. The IRS doesn’t have to know the details. We just have to make sure that the proper taxes are paid. Was there any compensation for the robberies that needs to be masked as contract labor? Did any of the stolen goods come back to the company?”

  My whole body strained in anticipation of the answer. Would Hope react poorly to Kurt trying to get him to incriminate himself? He wasn’t a stupid man.

  But he was still comfortable enough talking to a fellow bishop, it seemed. He said, “We paid five thousand dollars per home as a lump sum. The stolen goods never came back to us, though. I told them they could manage that on their own. Whatever they took was theirs.”

  “Five thousand?” Kurt said, whistling. “That’s a lot.”

  “But you said you could call it contract labor, right? There’s always a vague category you can list things under that the IRS can’t question, isn’t there?”

  I wondered what kind of accountants he’d worked with before. “Vague”
wasn’t in Kurt’s professional vocabulary.

  “Of course,” Kurt said easily. “Though there’d be less of a tax burden for the company if it was listed as a performance bonus. Then the tax burden is on your employees to pay.”

  “Ah. That makes sense. I can see why you’re so good at your job,” Hope said warmly. As if Kurt needed his approval.

  Kurt said clinically, “All right, so if I’ve done my research properly, it looks like there were twenty-five or twenty-six homes involved.”

  Hope hesitated, then said, “I believe there were twenty-six. It was really a small number, considering the effect it had. Word spread like wildfire from those who’d ended their contracts, and in addition to them returning, new clients signed up in the dozens over the next few weeks.” He seemed to warm up as he told the story, congratulating himself by the end, looking for Kurt’s approval, as well.

  “How efficient,” Kurt said drily.

  Surely this was enough for Kurt to stop and for the police to rush in?

  But there was nothing but silence outside the building and the thunderous beat of my own heart.

  There was another long pause, and I realized that there was no real reason for me to assume the police were outside, waiting to come in. Kurt might have done this all on his own. Waiting for the cavalry was stupid—and could possibly be fatal.

  “You can’t really write off those bonuses, can you?” said Hope after a too-long moment of consideration. “Not for illegal activity.”

  “No, I can’t,” whispered Kurt.

  Why would he say that? Why say anything at all? Because Kurt was an honest man who was as bad at lying as I was. Hope must’ve spotted his tell somehow.

  The chair’s squeaking ended abruptly, and I realized Hope had stood up. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “The police have been listening in to all of this,” Kurt said.