by Glen Ebisch
With a cry, Victor charged forward with the tire iron held over his head. Clarissa was about to spin around and run for the stairs, but before Victor had taken a step, Jonathan tackled him from behind. They both went down with Jonathan on top. Victor released the tire iron as he hit the floor and it slid down the hall, stopping at Clarissa’s feet. She picked it up as Jonathan wrestled Victor to his feet with an arm twisted behind his back.
“Good work,” Jonathan said, giving her a smile.
Clarissa smiled back just as Rudinski came running up the stairs. He came to a stop as he saw the two of them smiling at each other. From his expression, Clarissa knew that he couldn’t feel more betrayed if he’d just come upon them in bed together.
Chapter 24
“What the hell were you thinking?” Rudinski asked as soon as he walked into the interview room.
He was by himself, so Clarissa guessed that Lieutenant Baker was dealing with the other witnesses. Perhaps he’d left her to Rudinski because he thought the sergeant would be better able to put the fear of God into her for endangering herself. If so, he was wrong.
“I tried to get in touch with you, but you weren’t available. I felt that I had to go to the church in order to help Jonathan in case Victor showed up.”
“In order to help Jonathan,” Rudinski said with heavy sarcasm. “Since when are you his little helper? He almost got you killed once before, but that apparently doesn’t stop you from running over there as fast as you can to see if maybe the job can be completed this time.”
“It was risky, but I thought I had to do it.”
The sergeant opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I read your statement about what took place. It seems to correspond with what the other witnesses have said. So I guess you can go.” He slammed the folder on the table.
“What’s going to happen to Victor Evanston?”
“He violated bail, so he’s back in jail. The prosecutor is giving serious thought to several new charges. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up doing some serious prison time. Domestic violence is being treated a lot more harshly than it used to be.”
“He’d probably benefit more from counseling than from imprisonment.”
“He’ll get counseling in prison. Do you really think that if we let him out on the street he wouldn’t show up again with a weapon, threatening his family with violence?”
Clarissa had to admit that it seemed very likely.
“That’s why we put some people in prison because it isn’t safe to let them out on the street.”
“Point taken.”
“Actually, from what I’ve heard, the mother and daughter are going to leave The Church of Good Grace and relocate to a place where they’ll feel safer just in case Victor does get out. So probably the one most at risk will be your friend Jonathan.”
“He’s not my friend,” Clarissa snapped. “We’re just colleagues.”
“Sure. With what I saw when I got to the top of the stairs, I was going to suggest that the two of you rent a room.”
Clarissa sat back in the chair as if she’d been slapped. “You’re way out of line, Rudinski. If you’re so insecure that you think I can’t have male friends without it becoming a romance, then maybe we don’t belong together.”
“Maybe we don’t,” he said, getting red in the face.
They sat across from each other staring at the top of the table, unwilling to make eye contact. Finally Rudinski shuffled the papers in front of him back into a folder. He leaned forward and spoke more softly.
“Look, Clarissa, I know I’m not the kind of guy who can set up his own church. I don’t have the smarts to do that.” He gave a crooked grin. “Even if I did, I’m not charismatic enough to get people to join. And, to be honest, there are things I admire about the shepherd: his military service for one thing, and the fact that he appears to be trying to help people. But the fact is, you’re going to have to decide whether you’re interested in a simple guy like me or whether you need someone more complicated who can bring drama into your life. With me, life will stay simple, but fun. But if you want more than that, then this is the time to make up your mind.”
Rudinski stood up and opened the door. “I’m sure you can find your own way out.”
*****
By the time Clarissa got back to the office, her head still spinning from the confrontation with Rudinski, Ashley was already packing up for the day.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “I didn’t see any appointments listed on your calendar, and you didn’t leave a note. There were a couple of calls. Nothing important, I put the messages on your desk.”
Clarissa nodded, hardly taking in what she’d been told.
“Are you okay?”
Clarissa sighed and sank down in the plastic chair in front of Ashley’s desk. The story of the afternoon spilled out of her in a rush. Ashley listened intently, her eyes widening as Clarissa told her about the confrontation with Victor. When Clarissa was done, she sat there silently, feeling too exhausted to offer any kind of analysis of the day’s events.
“Well,” Ashley said, “you certainly had your share of excitement today.”
“And I think I did everything wrong,” Clarissa moaned.
“It’s not that bad.”
“I should have called the police and let Rudinski take care of the whole thing.”
“You tried, and he wasn’t there.”
“I could have just called the station. They would have sent a patrol car over.”
“But would they have taken it seriously enough to get there in time? The shepherd or one of the women could have been killed before the police got there. And you did distract Victor long enough for Jonathan to tackle him. All that was good work on your part.”
“Sounds like you’re leading up to telling me what I did wrong.”
“As usual, it’s your personal life that’s all screwed up. Much as I hate to admit it, Rudinski is right. You can’t keep him dangling forever. You have to decide what you want in a man. Do you want someone stable, hardworking, and normal like the sergeant? Or are you looking for the dynamic, creative type whose future is as unpredictable as a roll of the dice? Do you want security or excitement?”
Clarissa smiled wanly. “Can’t I have both?”
“Maybe in an alternate dimension, but not in this one.”
“Go on home, Ashley, and thanks for the good advice. You have your own problems to deal with today.”
“Yeah, a nice long conversation with my Aunt Mona to look forward to. Maybe you could take my place again, and I can choose the right boyfriend for you. We might both end up better off that way.”
“Everything will probably seem better after a good night’s sleep,” Clarissa said.
“Never make big decisions when you’re tired; that’s how you end up married to the wrong man,” Ashley said, heading for the door.
“I’ll remember that advice for when I counsel engaged couples.”
Chapter 25
Clarissa came into the office early the next morning, not feeling much better than when she’d left. She’d tossed and turned much of the night, not able to get fully comfortable. Breakfast had been equally distressing. Mrs. Morgan had heard through the grapevine about the incident at The Church of Good Grace and was distressed to hear that Clarissa was once again risking her life. She listened in polite silence to the older woman’s standard lecture on avoiding the criminal world, considering herself fortunate that word of her relationship with Jonathan hadn’t yet become public knowledge. Mrs. Morgan didn’t fully approve of her dating Rudinski because of his association with crime, but she’d likely be even less pleased to think that her minister was friendly with someone she’d no doubt consider to be a rogue pastor.
Ashley wasn’t in yet, so Clarissa went into her office and closed the door. When Ashley came in, she wouldn’t disturb her if the door were closed, figuring that the pastor was working on her sermon for the week. But Clarissa was in no
mood to think about the weekly sermon, being completely absorbed in her personal problems. She knew that Jonathan would call her again soon, and this time she wanted to have a thought-out response, rather than just following her hormones. She sat there mulling things over without success for several minutes, and was relieved when the phone rang. It was Lieutenant Baker.
“Good morning, Pastor, I just wanted to bring you up to date on the Karla Evanston murder case.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Clarissa said. Usually Rudinski would’ve been the one to make this kind of call. Probably, she thought sadly, he’d prevailed on the Lieutenant to talk to her instead, not trusting himself to be professional.
“We’ve made limited progress, more in the nature of narrowing down our leads. Unfortunately, none of the prints in Karla Evanston’s condo matched Chris Grant’s, so it’s likely he was telling the truth about not taking her home. I really didn’t like him for it anyway, but you never can tell. I called Richard Coppleston, Karla’s boss, to ask if he remembered the name of the dating site she was using, but he had no idea which one she used. So that was another dead end.”
“Did you learn anything promising?”
“I saved the best for last. We found out where George Evanston was staying in town. He had a room at the Jackson Hotel.”
“Where’s that?”
“A couple of blocks past the pedestrian mall. It’s not much to look at, just an old gray building with a small parking lot. If you blinked, you’d miss the faded sign. The woman who runs the place went into his room after he was supposed to check out, and got worried because all of his stuff was still there and his car was in the lot. So she called us.”
“Did you find anything interesting?”
“Well, we didn’t find his cell phone at the crime scene, and it wasn’t in his room either. We’re figuring that the killer probably took it, just like he did Karla’s. There was no computer either, but we don’t know if he had one in the first place.”
“I’m sure you asked the manager whether he’d had any visitors.”
“Sure did. She didn’t see anyone. There were only two people still there from earlier this week, and they couldn’t help us either.”
“So George probably arranged to meet his killer by phone.”
“But how would he do that?” asked Baker. “When you think about it, even if he did witness Karla’s murder and follow the killer home, how would he know his phone number?”
“Right, he’d have to go to where the killer was staying for a personal meeting and to blackmail him.”
“Which, as Rhonda pointed out to you, would’ve been a pretty gutsy move.”
“He’d lost his job and his wife probably was going to take him to the cleaners in the divorce, so he might have been desperate enough to give it a try.”
“Could be, but that doesn’t really help us. We’re going to go around to all the places that are still open for rentals this time of year in Shore Side and show George’s picture around. Maybe someone spotted him visiting the killer, and we can get a name.”
“Good plan. Anything else?”
“Not on the Evanston case.” Baker paused. “I know I’m stepping out of bounds here, Pastor, but it does relate to the efficiency of my force. I’ve got a sergeant who’s mooning around here like life has no meaning, and it’s making him less than fully productive. Now I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I don’t really want to know; however, I ‘d appreciate it if the two of you would do everything possible to work it out–––one way or the other.”
“That’s easier said than done, Lieutenant, but I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you’re in as much distress as he is.” Baker cleared his throat. “You and Roger are both good people, and I’d like to see things going well for you whether you’re together or apart.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant, I appreciate that. And you’re right, we have to work things out one way or the other.”
“Okay, enough said. I’ll get back to you if we find out any more about what George was up to.”
After ending the call, Clarissa sat back in her chair and wondered what to do. She felt badly for Roger, but didn’t know exactly how to handle the situation. Until she’d made up her mind about which man she was most interested in seeing, there was going to be no resolution. She heard the outside door open and close, and went out to greet Ashley.
“How did it go with your Aunt Mona?” Clarissa asked.
Ashley, a big smile on her face, walked over and hugged Clarissa. “I don’t know what kind of magic you worked, but my aunt is delighted with everything. I’m taking Kevin over to see her tonight. He’s a natural diplomat, so I’m sure they’ll hit it off just fine.” An expression of concern came over her face. “How are you doing this morning?”
“About the same. I just heard from Lieutenant Baker.”
Clarissa filled Ashley in on what the Lieutenant had said about the Evanston case.
“You know,” Ashley said, “this is one time I agree with sister Rhonda. I can’t see a guy like George knocking on a killer’s door and threatening to blackmail him. But I could see him setting up a meeting in some public place to make a blackmail threat.”
“But how would he get the guy’s number?”
“Don’t know. Maybe he knew him already.”
Clarissa shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible that the guy who contacted her on the dating website was an old boyfriend. I’ll ask the sisters if they can think of any old boyfriends who’ve stayed in touch with Karla.”
“The other thing I was wondering–––didn’t Karla have any friends?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I was just thinking about Kevin and myself. I told you about him before I said anything to anyone else, so maybe Karla would have mentioned the name of this online boyfriend to a friend before telling her sisters, and certainly before telling her boss.”
“Good point. I’ll ask her sisters if they have any idea who her friends are.”
The phone rang and Ashley answered. “Just a moment, and I’ll check,” she said. Covering the receiver with her hand, she said, “It’s the shepherd. Do you want to talk to him?”
Clarissa was tempted to say no. He was bound to be asking her out, and she wasn’t sure what to say to him. But she had a bad feeling that no matter how long she thought about it, the answer wasn’t going to come. This was going to be one of those decisions that just came to her from out of the blue, not one arrived at by weighing pros and cons and careful reasoning. That would come later when she tried to justify to herself what she’d done. Sometimes Clarissa felt that all her life she’d acted on impulse when it came to men, and then spent a long time afterwards trying to justify her behavior.
“I’ll take the call in my office.”
Ashley transferred the call through and Clarissa picked it up.
“Hi, no ill effects from our little adventure yesterday?” Jonathan asked.
“It was less harrowing than being shot.”
“You can’t say I don’t know how to show a girl a good time.”
“What comes next? Bungee jumping?”
“Actually, I was contemplating a nice quiet lunch together if you’re free today.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“A religious matter?”
“Only partially.”
Clarissa smiled to herself. Intrigued. There was something mysterious about Jonathan that she found fascinating, even though it made her uneasy. Or maybe the fascination was based on the way he always kept her off balance.
They arranged where to meet and Clarissa sat staring across her office. Then she remembered that she should be calling Karla’s sisters to find out the names of Karla’s friends. Cheryl answered the phone, and Clarissa made her request.
“Let me talk with Rhonda, and we’ll give you a call back.”
“While you’re talking about it,
did she have any old boyfriends that she stayed in touch with?” Clarissa asked, thinking about what Baker had said about the killer being someone George might have known.
“I don’t think she ever mentioned any, but I’ll ask my sister.”
Clarissa went back to her sermon for Sunday, which was fast approaching. She had a draft of what she was going to say about community, and how nourishing it could be to its members. She had to admit to herself that this talk of community was mostly theoretical, since she’d never experienced it in her own life. Her parents had sent her away to boarding school right after sixth grade because her father was transferred to an overseas position, and after that she’d moved again to go to college. She’d never felt that she’d settled in to be part of a geographic community. Her community was wherever she happened to be living and working. Even now that her parents had returned to New Jersey, she didn’t feel that the nice house they lived in was her home, because she had never lived there as a girl. A community required continuity in time and space. As she thought about these things, she added some notes to the draft of her sermon, wondering if what she had to say would make sense to a congregation of people who’d largely lived their whole lives in a small town. The phone rang again, and it was Cheryl.
“I talked your questions over with Rhonda. Neither one of us has ever heard her mention any old boyfriends, at least not since she got married. She moved twenty miles away from where we grew up after college, and we think she pretty much broke things off with her friends from high school.”
“What about college friends?”
“She’d get together once a year with some of her girlfriends from college, but that’s it as far as we know.”
“How about friends at Verve Pharmaceuticals where she worked?”
She heard Cheryl and Rhonda discussing her question. Cheryl came back on the line.
“The only friend from work she ever mentioned to us is Abby Miller, Richard Coppleston’s secretary. They’d go out for a drink after work sometimes. I think she saw more of her after splitting up with George. She’d probably know if Karla had any other close friends at the company.”