A Dirty Shame (21 page)

Carver sighed. “I’ll try again, but the judge working for the ACLU is being a hardass. I just got off the phone with the DA, and I convinced him to press for the warrant for Lorna’s place.”

“That’s something at least,” Jack said.

I’d never been out to the Dewberry farm. Jack and I had played in the surrounding fields as kids, but we’d never ventured far enough so the main house came into sight. The fields were overgrown with yellow grass and so tall it was like driving through a maze, but then the area opened up and Jack slowed the car so we could get a good look around.

“Creepy,” Carver said. “Too many places to hide in all this grass.”

The Fife-Dewberry homestead was a little two-story frame house with a wide wraparound porch. It was painted a dull yellow, almost so it blended in with the dead grass in the fields. A large barn sat about a hundred and fifty feet to the back right of the house, and the structure hadn’t been kept up in good repair. Brownish red paint was peeling, and one of the doors from the hayloft hung by a single hinge.

Lorna’s blue Focus was parked to the side of the house, but I saw her come to the screen door when we parked behind her. She waited for us to come up the creaky porch stairs before she held open the screen door to let us in.

“You’ve caught me on my way out, Sheriff,” she said. “This is my errand day.”

“We won’t keep you long, Lorna. Just a couple of follow up questions. This is Agent Carver,” Jack said, “With the FBI.”

“Well, come in and sit.” Her tone was brusque. “I’ve got things to do.”

I could see a straight shot down a long hall to a back door that mirrored the front. Everything was painted stark white. No color on the walls anywhere. There were also no pictures or knickknacks sitting around.

She led us into a spotless kitchen with white laminate flooring and white counters and cabinets. All I could think was that it’d be really hard to get blood out of this house. Jack sat across from Lorna at her little kitchen table, and I chose to stand with my back against the counter next to Carver. She’d probably be more comfortable if I wasn’t in her direct line of sight.

I realized it was the first time I’d seen Lorna with her hair down. It was straight as a board and fell halfway down her back, and I also realized I’d never seen her in makeup before. She looked—pretty.

“Tell me about William Vance,” Jack said.

Lorna jerked just a little in her chair, and her forehead lined in agitation. “Fornicator,” she spat.

“Can you expound on that any?”

“He was married to my cousin. They took vows, but both of them turned their backs on them.”

“Cynthia cheated on William as well?” Jack asked.

“She might as well have.” Lorna’s posture was so straight I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a steel beam in her spine. “Neglect is just as big a sin as adultery.”

I wanted to say something at that point, along the lines of not remembering neglect being part of the Ten Commandments, but I held my tongue to move things along. The house was starting to creep me out, and I had a bad feeling forming in the pit of my stomach.

“William gave her the perfect marriage and environment to raise their children, and she forced him to look for attention elsewhere when she decided she enjoyed giving his money away to ridiculous charities instead of keeping him satisfied. William was justified in looking elsewhere, though he should have waited to quench his carnal cravings until after the vows had been dissolved.”

“And did you ever—quench William’s carnal cravings?” Jack asked.

My eyes got big, but I somehow managed to keep my laughter contained at the way Jack phrased the question.

Lorna’s face turned so red I was afraid she was going to go into cardiac arrest, and I saw her knuckles go white as she pressed her fingers into her legs, probably hard enough to leave bruises.

“Of course not,” she sputtered. “How dare you imply such a thing? If this is how you get your jollies then I’m going to report you to the mayor.”

“Good friends with the mayor, are you?” Jack asked. He pulled a copy of the photo I’d found inside George’s throat and placed it on the table in front of her. “What do all these men have in common, Lorna?”

She licked her lips once and looked at the photograph, but she didn’t say anything.

“There’s your grandfather,” Jack pointed out companionably. “Right next to Frank Greenbaum. Did you know Frank gave George the loan to start up his auto shop? Jesse and Frank were good friends, weren’t they? In fact, this whole group seems pretty tight.”

She stayed silent, but I could see the beads of sweat on her upper lip. Jack left the picture in front of her and put the crime scene photo of Reverend Oglesby on top of it. She went pale.

“That’s an abomination,” she said, scooting back her chair. “I want you out of my house.”

“It is an abomination,” Jack said, nodding. “The group who did this—they don’t have any regard for those they see as the minority. Whether it be skin color, religion, sexuality—or gender. They hate women. But you know that, don’t you? How did your grandfather feel when he was presented with a granddaughter instead of a grandson? He couldn’t pass on the legacy to you, could he? I bet he was angry.”

“My grandfather loved me.” Her voice quivered with the lack of conviction.

“He figured out a way to use you though, didn’t he, Lorna? Right from the beginning. He trained you to act as a woman should. To be whatever they needed. These men find whoever’s malleable enough to do what they ask. Until they’re through using them. You should ask George Murphy how that turned out.”

Lorna was completely still, her gaze directed down and slightly away from the sight of Reverend Oglesby.

“You know what someone did to Daniel Oglesby, Lorna?” Jack put his finger on the picture so her gaze was drawn to it again. “Someone went to his house. Someone he knew. Maybe even someone he thought was a friend. And that person injected him with a drug that rendered him unconscious. And then this group of men—the men who hate everyone who doesn’t fit their ideal—they loaded up his body and took him somewhere secluded. And they beat him and tortured him until this is what was left of Daniel Oglesby.”

Jack’s voice never faltered as he played it back for her. “The person that gave him that first drug—they’re guilty of murder. Did you know that? Just as much as the person who took the whip to his back or the knife to his genitalia.”

“Do you have a point to make, Sheriff?” she asked, her eyes finally coming up to meet his. There was fear in her gaze, but also hatred—mostly hatred. “Like I said. I have things to do.”

“Tell me again where you were the afternoon Reverend Oglesby went missing.”

“I spend Sundays at the church. All day.”

“You ever have a chance to drive your grandmother’s Cadillac?”

If I hadn’t been looking for it I never would have seen the change that came over her. She became more confident—almost defiant—right in front of our eyes.

“I haven’t seen that car since Grandmother died,” she said. “It’s probably nothing more than scrap metal by now.”

“I guess a good mechanic would know all about how to make that happen.”

She scooted her chair back further and stood. “I don’t like the tone you used today, Jack.” She omitted his title this time. I guess she wouldn’t be voting for him when it came election time again. “Now if that’s all—”

“Actually, I do have one more request. Would you mind if we took a look at your barn?”

Her eyes snapped up. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to spare today. I think it’d be best from here on out if you speak with my attorney.”

We followed Lorna back to the front of the house and Jack’s phone rang. “Excuse me a minute.”

Lorna grabbed her purse, and followed us out to the porch just as Jack was hanging up the phone. He turned to look at Lorna and said, “Reverend Thomas must have called to tell you we were looking for you.”

The statement caught her off guard just for a moment. “He called to tell me I needed to update my address with the city.”

“It gave you plenty of time to call William and let him know we were coming. He’s under surveillance you know. My men caught him trying to sneak out of the back window of his house and get away. Was he coming to help you, or do you think he would have let you take the fall all by yourself? Things don’t look good for you, Lorna. They’ve made you out to be the scapegoat. It’s your name attached to the car and the house here. Not theirs. What will we find in that barn?”

Things turned to chaos in that moment and a gunshot rang out—the sound deafening as it echoed under the small space of the porch. Fear gripped me like it never had before, not even when I’d watched my last lover die by the hands of a madman. I couldn’t do this again. All I could think of was protecting Jack, and I flung my body towards him, knocking him back against the clapboard siding.

The blood rushed in my ears and black dots edged into my vision.

“Jesus, Jaye,” Jack’s voice finally came through. “Are you crazy? Look at me.”

I couldn’t listen to what he was saying. My hands ran over his body, checking for the wound I was sure I’d find, ready to staunch the blood and feel the life of him drain beneath my fingers.

“Where is it?” I begged. “Where is it!” Hysteria bubbled inside me, and Jack put his arms around me tight, holding me as close as he could until the only thing I could hear was his heartbeat, nice and steady.

“I’m okay,” he soothed. “Everyone’s okay. Look.”

“You’re okay,” I said, more to reassure myself than asking a question. Tremors wracked my body, but I made myself look over at Lorna. Carver already had her in cuffs and she was weeping softly on her knees, her head bowed as if in prayer.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I tried to push away and stand on my own. “I shouldn’t have interfered. I’m sorry.”

But Jack didn’t let me go far, and he kept an arm around my waist. I was still struggling to catch my breath, and I realized that fear was dictating every choice and action in my life. And if I wanted to survive and be happy, I couldn’t let the fear take over.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry,” I said again.

“I’ll let it go this once,” he said. “But if you ever try to step in front of a bullet for me again I’m going to bend you over my knee. You took ten years off my life.”

I realized then I wasn’t the only one trembling. I squeezed him and dropped my head to his shoulder. “That’s something we haven’t tried yet,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Sounds kinky.”

His body shook with laughter, and this time when I pulled away he let me go.

“Why don’t you come over here and hug me?” Carver asked. “I’m the one that knocked the gun out of her hand.”

“My hero,” I said, fluttering my lashes.

“Carver is also a terrible poker player,” Jack said. “You guys have that in common. I knew he was waiting for Lorna to make a move, so I wasn’t worried at all. She shot right through her handbag and into the porch.”

“I’m glad someone is as bad at poker as me,” I said.

“Maybe not quite so bad,” Jack added, his smile giving me a glimpse of his dimple. “I told Lewis and Martinez to arrest William Vance and bring him in for questioning. And now with Lorna’s little stunt here we don’t have to wait for a warrant to search the premises.”

“I’ll stay here with her if you want to check it out,” Carver said. He lifted her up under the arms so she was on her feet, and he started moving her towards the cruiser.

Jack and I watched until Carver had her settled. She was still weeping softly, and I felt the first stirring of pity nudge me.

“Let’s go check out the barn,” Jack said.

“Let me get my bag. Just in case.” I didn’t know exactly what
just in case
might encompass, but I was prepared for anything.

The walk to the barn was a trek, and by the time we got to the doors I couldn’t see where Carver was waiting with the car. Jack handed me a pair of gloves and I put them on while he decided the best way to get through the padlock holding the doors closed.

“Hand me that scraper thing in your bag. The one that looks like a dentist’s pick.”

“Since when are you proficient in breaking and entering?” I dug in my bag and handed over the tool.

“You learn all kinds of interesting things in the military. Move back some. You’re in my light.”

I took a few steps back while Jack worked his magic. The temperature was starting to warm up and I was regretting the added layers I put on early that morning. I dropped my bag to the ground and took off my jacket, tying it around my waist. I slapped at a fly that lighted on my arm, and then another that buzzed around my face. There were several seeking me out. I looked around until I saw a swarm of them above us.

“Jack,” I said.

“Almost got it.” His concentration was complete. “There we go,” he said. “It’s been awhile. Never used to take me so long.”

“Jack,” I called again.

He followed my gaze up and we both stared at the blowflies going in and out of the broken hayloft door. Jack took his weapon out of the holster and flipped off the safety with his thumb. He gestured me to move behind him and this once I decided not to argue. I’d left my gun back at the house. It was the first time I’d been without it in months, and I hadn’t even realized I was missing it as I’d left. I didn’t like the feel of being helpless. I knew Jack would protect me with his life, but he shouldn’t have to. What if he was the one who needed protection? Love and trust was a two-way street, and I hated that I felt like I’d dropped the ball.