Faithless

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jeffrey could feel Lena ’s excitement matching his own as they pulled up in front of the equipment barn where Cole Connolly lived. If solving a case was like a roller coaster, they were on the back end of the incline, heading ninety miles an hour towa rd the next loop. Lev Ward happened to carry a photograph of his family in his wallet. Patty O’Ryan had been her usual colorful self when she’d pointed out Cole Connolly as the cocksucking motherfucker who visited Chip at the Pink Kitty.

“The cut on his finger,” Lena said.

“What’s that?” Jeffrey asked, but then understood. Connolly had said the cut on his right index finger had come from working in the fields.

“You’d think that he’d have more than a little cut on the back of his hand, considering what Chip Donner looked like.” She allowed, “Of course, O. J. just had a cut on the back of his finger.”

“So did Jeffrey McDonald.”

“Who’s that?”

“Viciously stabbed his whole family to death- two kids and his pregnant wife.” He told her, “The only wound he didn’t give himself was a cut on the back of his finger.”

“Nice guy,” Lena remarked, then, “You think Cole took Rebecca?”

“I think we’re going to find out,” Jeffrey told her, hoping to God the girl had just run away, that she was somewhere safe and not buried underground, taking her last breaths as she prayed for someone to find her.

He turned the car onto the gravel drive they had taken to the farm last Monday. They had followed Lev Ward’s ancient Ford Festiva as the preacher closely observed the speed limit. Jeffrey had a feeling he would do this even without a cop following him. When Lev pulled into the drive to the barn, he actually used his turn signal.

Jeffrey put the car into park. “Here we go,” he told Lena as they both got out of the car.

Lev pointed to a stairway inside the barn. “He lives up there.”

Jeffrey glanced up, glad there were no windows at the front of the barn to give Connolly a warning. He told Lena, “Stay here,” making his way inside the barn. Lev started to follow but Jeffrey stopped him. “I need you to stay down here.”

Lev seemed ready to protest, but he said, “I think you’re way off base here, Chief Tolliver. Cole loved Abby. He’s not the sort of man to do something like this. I don’t know what kind of animal is capable, but Cole is not-”

Jeffrey told Lena, “Make sure no one interrupts me.” To Lev, he said, “I’d appreciate it if you stayed here until I came down.”

“I have to prepare my remarks,” the preacher said. “We’re putting Abby to rest today. The family is waiting on me.”

Jeffrey knew the family included a pretty sharp lawyer, and he sure as shit didn’t want Paul Ward barging in on his conversation with Connolly. The ex-con was sharp, and Jeffrey was going to have a hard enough time cracking him without Paul shutting things down.

Jeffrey wasn’t in his jurisdiction, he didn’t have an arrest warrant and the only probable cause he had to talk to Connolly came from the word of a stripper who would kill her own mother for a fix. All he could tell Lev was, “Do what you have to do.”

Lena tucked her hands into her pockets as the pastor drove away. “He’s going straight to his brother.”

“I don’t care if you have to hog-tie them,” Jeffrey told her. “Keep them away from that apartment.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quietly, Jeffrey walked up the steep set of stairs to Connolly’s apartment. At the top of the landing, he looked through the window in the door and saw Connolly standing in front of the sink. His back was to Jeffrey, and when he turned around, Jeffrey could see he had been filling a kettle with water. He didn’t seem startled to find someone looking through his window.

“Come on in,” he called, putting the kettle on the stove. There was a series of clicks as the gas caught.

“Mr. Connolly,” Jeffrey began, not sure how he should approach this.

“Cole,” the old man corrected. “I was just making some coffee.” He smiled at Jeffrey, his eyes sparkling the same way they had the day before. Connolly offered, “You want a cup?”

Jeffrey saw a jar of Folgers instant coffee on the countertop and suppressed a feeling of revulsion. His father had sworn by the power of Folgers crystals, claiming it was the best curative for a hangover. As far as Jeffrey was concerned, he’d rather drink out of the toilet, but he answered, “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Connolly took down another cup out of the cabinet. Jeffrey could see there were only two.

“Have a seat,” Connolly said, measuring out two heaping spoonfuls of grainy black coffee into the mugs.

Jeffrey pulled out a chair at the table, taking in Connolly’s apartment, which was a single room with a kitchen on one side and the bedroom on the other. The bed had white sheets and a simple spread, all tucked in with military corners. The man lived a Spartan existence. Except for a cross hanging over the bed and a religious poster taped to one of the whitewashed walls, there was nothing that would reveal anything about the person who called this place his home.

Jeffrey asked, “You live here long?”

“Oh”-Connolly seemed to think about it-“I guess going on fifteen years now. We all moved onto the farm some time back. I used to be in the house, but then the grandkids started growing, wanting their own rooms, their own space. You know how kids are.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Built it out myself,” Connolly said proudly. “Rachel offered me a place in her house, but I saw this room up here and knew I’d be able to do something with it.”

“You’re quite a carpenter,” Jeffrey said, taking in the room more carefully. The box they had found Abby in had precision-mitered joints as did the other. The man who had built those boxes was meticulous, taking time to do things right.

“Measure twice, cut once.” Connolly sat at the table, putting a cup in front of Jeffrey and keeping one for himself. There was a Bible between them, holding down a stack of napkins. “What brings you here?”

“I have some more questions,” Jeffrey said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Connolly shook his head, as if he had nothing to hide. “Of course not. Anything that I can do to help. Fire away.”

Jeffrey got a whiff of the instant coffee in front of him, and had to move the cup out of the way before he could speak. He decided to begin with Chip Donner. O’Ryan had given them a concrete connection. The tie to Abby was more tenuous, and Connolly wasn’t the type to hang himself with his own rope. “Have you ever heard of a bar called the Pink Kitty?”

Connolly kept his gaze steady, watching Jeffrey. “It’s a strip club out on the highway.”

“That’s right.”

Connolly moved his mug a quarter of an inch to the left, centering it in front of the Bible.

“You ever been there, Cole?”

“That’s a funny question to be asking a Christian.”

“There’s a stripper says you were there.”

He rubbed the top of his bald head, wiping away sweat. “Warm in here,” he said, walking over to the window. They were on the second level and the window was small, but Jeffrey tensed in case Connolly tried to make a break for it.

Connolly turned back to him. “I wouldn’t much trust the word of a whore.”

“No,” Jeffrey allowed. “They tend to tell you what they think you want to hear.”

“True enough,” he agreed, putting up the jar of Folgers. He went to the sink and washed the spoon, using a well-worn towel to dry it before returning it to the drawer. The kettle started to whistle, and he used the towel to take it off the eye of the stove.

“Hand those over,” he asked Jeffrey, and Jeffrey slid the cups across the table.

“When I was in the army,” Cole said, pouring boiling water into the cups, “there wasn’t a titty bar around we didn’t hit one time or another. Dens of iniquity, one and all.” He put the kettle back on the stove and took out the spoon he had just washed to stir the coffee. “I was a weak man then. A weak man.”

“What was Abby doing at the Pink Kitty, Cole?”

Connolly kept stirring, turning the clear liquid into an unnatural black. “Abby wanted to help people,” he said, going back to the sink. “She didn’t know she was walking into the lion’s den. She was an honest soul.”

Jeffrey watched Cole wash the spoon again. He put it in the drawer, then sat down across from Jeffrey.

Jeffrey asked, “Was she trying to help Chip Donner?”

“He wasn’t worth helping,” Cole replied, putting the cup to his lips. Steam rose, and he blew on the liquid before setting it back down. “Too hot.”

Jeffrey sat back in his chair to get away from the smell. “Why wasn’t he worth helping?”

“Lev and them don’t see it, but some of these people just want to work the system.” He pointed a finger at Jeffrey. “You and I know how these people are. It’s my job to get them off the farm. They’re just taking up space where somebody else might be- somebody who wants to do better. Somebody who’s strong in the Lord.”

Jeffrey took the opening. “These bad people just want to work it to their advantage. Take what they can and get out.”

“That’s exactly right,” Cole agreed. “It’s my job to get them out fast.”

“Before they ruin it for everybody.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“What did Chip do with Abby?”

“He took her out to the woods. She was just an innocent. An innocent.”

“You saw him take her out into the woods?” Jeffrey asked, thinking it was pretty odd for a seventy-two-year-old man to be following around a young girl.

“I wanted to make sure she was okay,” Connolly explained. “I don’t mind telling you that I was worried for her soul.”

“You feel a responsibility for the family?”

“With Thomas like he is, I had to look after her.”

“I see it all the time,” Jeffrey encouraged. “All it takes is one bad apple.”

“That is the truth, sir.” Connolly blew on the coffee again, chancing a sip. He grimaced as his tongue was singed. “I tried to reason with her. She was going to leave town with that boy. She was packing her bag, heading right down the road to wickedness. I could not let that happen. For Thomas’s sake, for the sake of the family, I could not let them lose another soul.”

Jeffrey nodded, the pieces falling into place. He could see Abigail Bennett packing her bags, thinking she was going to start a new life, until Cole Connolly came in and changed everything. What must have been going through Abby’s mind as he led her into the forest? The girl had to have been terrified.

Jeffrey said, “I don’t see that you wanted her to die.”

Connolly’s head snapped up. He stared at Jeffrey for a beat.

“You built that box, Cole.” He indicated the apartment. “You do things right. Your workmanship gives you away.” Jeffrey tried to ease him into it. “I don’t think you meant for her to die.”

Connolly didn’t answer.

“It’s her mama I worry about,” Jeffrey said. “Esther’s a good woman.”

“That’s the truth.”

“She needs to know what happened to her daughter, Cole. When I was in her house, looking at Abby’s things, trying to find out what happened to her, Esther begged me. She grabbed my arm, Cole. She had tears in her eyes.” He paused. “Esther needs to know what happened to her baby, Cole. She needs it for her peace of mind.”

Connolly just nodded.

“I’m getting to this point, Cole,” Jeffrey said, “where I’m going to have to start bringing people in. I’m gonna have to start throwing things against the wall, seeing if they stick.”

Connolly sat back in his chair, his lips pressed tightly together.

“I’ll bring in Mary first, then Rachel.”

“I doubt Paul will let that happen.”

“I can keep them for twenty-four hours without making a charge.” He added, still trying to find the right pressure point, “It’s my opinion Mary and Rachel might be material witnesses.”

“Do what you want.” He shrugged.

“It’s Thomas who’s going to be the hard one,” Jeffrey persisted, keeping his eyes trained on Connolly, trying to judge how far to push the old man. At the mention of his mentor’s name, Connolly’s body tensed, and Jeffrey continued, “We’ll do everything we can to keep him comfortable. Those cell doors are pretty narrow, but I’m sure we can carry him in if his wheelchair won’t fit.”

The sink faucet had a small leak, and in the silence that followed, Jeffrey could hear the dripping water echo in the small room. He kept his eyes on Connolly, watched the man’s expression change as he struggled with the image of Jeffrey’s threat.

Jeffrey saw his leverage and pressed even harder. “I’ll keep him in jail, Cole. I’ll do whatever it takes to find out what happened. Don’t think I won’t.”

Connolly’s grip on the coffee cup was tight, but it slackened as he seemed to make up his mind. He said, “You’ll leave Thomas alone?”

“You have my word.”

Connolly nodded. Still, he took his time continuing. Jeffrey was about to prompt him when the old man said, “None of ’em ever passed before.”

Jeffrey felt a surge of adrenaline, but did his best not to break the rhythm of the conversation. No one came out and admitted they’d done something horrible. They always came around it the back way, easing into the admission, convincing themselves that they were actually good people who had momentarily slipped and done a bad thing.

Connolly repeated, “None of ’em ever passed.”

Jeffrey tried to keep the accusation out of his tone. “Who else did you do this to, Cole?”

He slowly shook his head.

“What about Rebecca?”

“She’ll turn up.”

“Turn up like Abby?”

“Like a bad penny,” he said. “Nothing I did to that girl ever got through. She never listened to anything I said.” Connolly stared into his coffee, but there wasn’t a trace of remorse about him. “Abby was in the family way.”

“She told you that?” Jeffrey asked, and he could imagine Abby trying to use the information for leverage, thinking she would talk the crazy old man out of putting her in the box.

“Liked to broke my heart,” he said. “But it also gave me the conviction to do what had to be done.”

“So you buried her out by the lake. In the same spot Chip had taken her to for sex.”

“She was going to run away with him,” Connolly repeated. “I went to pray with her, and she was packing, getting ready to run off with that trash, raise their baby in sin.”

“You couldn’t let her do that,” Jeffrey encouraged.

“She was just an innocent. She needed that time alone to contemplate what she had allowed that boy to do. She was soiled. She needed to rise and be born again.”

“That’s what it’s about?” Jeffrey asked. “You bury them so that they can be born again?” Connolly didn’t answer, and he asked, “Did you bury Rebecca, Cole? Is that where she is now?”

He put his hand on the Bible, quoting, “‘Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth… let the wicked be no more.’ ”

“Cole, where’s Rebecca?”

“I told you, son, I don’t know.”

Jeffrey kept at him. “Was Abby a sinner?”

“I put it into the Lord’s hands,” the other man countered. “He tells me to give them time for prayer, for contemplation. He gives me the mission, and I give the girls the opportunity to change their lives.” Again, he quoted, “‘The Lord preserveth all them that love Him, but all the wicked will be destroyed.’ ”

Jeffrey asked, “Abby didn’t love the Lord?”

The man seemed genuinely sad, as if he had played no part in her terrible death. “The Lord chose to take her.” He wiped his eyes. “I was merely following His orders.”

“Did He tell you to beat Chip to death?” Jeffrey asked.

“That boy was doing no good to the world.”

Jeffrey took that as an admission of guilt. “Why did you kill Abby, Cole?”

“It was the Lord’s decision to take her.” His grief was genuine. “She just run out of air,” he said. “Poor little thing.”

“You put her in that box.”

He gave a curt nod, and Jeffrey could feel Cole’s anger revving up. “I did.”

Jeffrey pressed a little more. “You killed her.”

“‘I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked,’ ” he recited. “I’m just an old soldier. I told you that. I’m a conduit through which He speaks.”

“That so?”

“Yes, that’s so,” Connolly snapped at his sarcasm, banging his fist against the table, anger flaring in his eyes. He took a second to get it back under control, and Jeffrey remembered Chip Donner, the way his guts had been pulverized by those fists. Instinctively, Jeffrey pressed his back against the chair, reassured by the pressure of his gun.

Connolly took another sip of coffee. “With Thomas like he is…” He put his hand to his stomach, an acrid-sounding belch slipping out. “Excuse me,” he apologized. “Indigestion. I know I shouldn’t drink the stuff. Mary and Rachel are on me all the time, but caffeine is the one addiction I cannot give up.”

“With Thomas like he is?” Jeffrey prompted.

Connolly put down the cup. “Someone has to step up. Someone has to take charge of the family or everything we’ve worked for will go to the wayside.” He told Jeffrey, “We’re all just soldiers. We need a general.”

Jeffrey remembered O’Ryan telling them that the man at the Kitty gave Chip Donner drugs. “It’s hard to say no when someone’s waving it in front of your face.” He asked, “Why were you giving Chip drugs?”

Connolly moved in his chair, like he was trying to get comfortable. “The snake tempted Eve, and she partook. Chip was just like the others. None of them ever resist for long.”

“I bet.”

“God warned Adam and Eve not to partake of the tree, yet they did.” Cole slid a napkin from under the Bible and used it to wipe his forehead. “You are either strong or you are weak. That boy was weak.” He added sadly, “I guess in the end our Abigail was, too. The Lord works in His own way. It’s not our job to question.”

“Abby was poisoned, Cole. God didn’t decide to take her. Somebody murdered her.”

Connolly studied Jeffrey, coffee cup poised before his mouth. He took his time answering, taking a drink from the mug, setting it down in front of the Bible again. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to, boy,” he warned, menace underlying his quiet tone. “I’m not just an old man, I’m an old con. You can’t trick me with your lies.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Well, sir, you’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

“She was poisoned with cyanide.”

He shook his head, still disbelieving. “If you want to arrest me, I think you should go ahead. I have nothing else to say.”

“Who else did you do this to, Cole? Where’s Rebecca?”

He shook his head, laughing. “You think I’m some kind of rat, don’t you? Gonna flip on a dime just to save my own ass.” He pointed his finger at Jeffrey. “Let me tell you something, son. I-” He put his hand to his mouth, coughing. “I never-” He coughed again. The coughing turned into gagging. Jeffrey jumped from his chair as a dark string of vomit emptied from the man’s mouth.

“Cole?”

Connolly started breathing hard, then panting. Soon, he was clawing at his neck, his fingernails ripping into the flesh. “No!” he gasped, his eyes locking onto Jeffrey’s in terror. “No! No!” His body convulsed so violently that he was thrown to the floor.

“Cole?” Jeffrey repeated, rooted where he stood as he watched the old man’s face fix into a horrible mask of agony and fear. His legs bucked, kicking the chair so hard that it splintered against the wall. He soiled his pants, smearing excrement across the floor as he crawled toward the door. Suddenly, he stopped, his body still seizing, eyes rolling back in his head. His legs trembled so hard that one of his shoes kicked off.

In less than a minute, he was dead.

Lena was pacing beside Jeffrey’s Town Car when he made his way down the stairs. Jeffrey took out his handkerchief, wiping the sweat off his brow, remembering how Connolly had done the same thing moments before he died.

He reached in through the open car window to get his cell phone. He felt sick from bending over, and took a deep breath as he straightened.

“You okay?”

Jeffrey took off his suit jacket and tossed it into the car. He dialed Sara’s office number, telling Lena, “He’s dead.”

“What?”

“We don’t have long,” he told her, then asked Sara’s receptionist, “Can you get her? This is an emergency.”

Lena asked, “What happened?” She lowered her voice. “Did he try something?”

He was only faintly surprised that she could suspect him of killing a suspect in custody. Considering all they had been through, he hadn’t exactly set a great example.

Sara came onto the phone. “Jeff?”

“I need you to come to the Ward farm.”

“What’s up?”

“Cole Connolly is dead. He was drinking coffee. I think it must have had cyanide in it. He just…” Jeffrey didn’t want to think about what he had just seen. “He died right in front of me.”

“Jeffrey, are you okay?”

He knew Lena was listening, so he just left it at “It was pretty bad.”

“Baby,” Sara said, and he looked past his car, like he was checking to make sure no one was coming, so Lena wouldn’t read the emotion in his face. Cole Connolly was a disgusting man, a sick bastard who twisted the Bible to justify his horrible actions, but he was still a human being. Jeffrey could think of few people who deserved that kind of death, and while Connolly was up there on the list, Jeffrey didn’t like being a spectator to the man’s suffering.

He told Sara, “I need you to get over here fast. I want you to look at him before we have to call the sheriff in.” For Lena ’s benefit, he added, “This isn’t exactly my jurisdiction.”

“I’m on my way.”

He snapped the phone closed, tucking it into his pocket as he leaned against the car. His stomach was still rolling, and he kept panicking, thinking he had taken a drink of coffee when he knew for a fact he hadn’t. This was the only time in his life that his father’s miserable habits had actually benefited Jeffrey instead of kicking him in the ass. He said a silent prayer to Jimmy Tolliver to thank him, even though he knew if there was a heaven, Jimmy wouldn’t make it past the door.

“Chief?” Lena asked. She’d obviously been speaking. “I asked about Rebecca Bennett. Did he say anything about her?”

“He said he didn’t know where she was.”

“Right.” Lena glanced around the farm, asking, “What do we do now?”

Jeffrey didn’t want to be in charge right now. He just wanted to lean against the car, try to breathe and wait for Sara. If only he had that option.

“When Sara gets here,” he told her, “I want you to fetch Two-Bit. Tell him your phone wouldn’t work out here. Take your time getting there, okay?”

She nodded.

He looked into the dark barn, the narrow flight of stairs looking like something Dante would’ve written about.

Lena asked, “He admitted to doing this to other girls?”

“Yes,” he said. “He said that none of them had ever died before.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Somebody wrote that note to Sara. Somebody out there survived this.”

“Rebecca,” she guessed.

“It wasn’t the same handwriting,” he told her, remembering the note Esther had given him.

“You think one of the aunts wrote it? Maybe the mother?”

“There’s no way Esther knew,” he said. “She would’ve told us. She loved her daughter.”

“Esther’s loyal to her family,” Lena reminded him. “She defers to her brothers.”

“Not all the time,” he countered.

“Lev,” she said. “I don’t know about him. I can’t pin him down.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to answer.

Lena crossed her arms and fell silent. Jeffrey looked up the road again, closing his eyes as he tried to regain control over his sour stomach. It was more than queasiness, though. He felt dizzy, almost like he might pass out. Was he sure that he hadn’t tasted the coffee? He’d even drunk some of that bitter lemonade the other day. Was it possible he had swallowed some cyanide?

Lena started pacing back and forth, and when she went into the barn, he didn’t stop her. She came back out a few minutes later, looking at her watch. “I hope Lev doesn’t come back.”

“How long has it been?”

“Less than an hour,” she told him. “If Paul gets here before Sara does-”

“Let’s go,” he said, pushing himself away from the car.

Lena followed him back through the building, for once keeping quiet. She didn’t ask him anything until they were inside the kitchen and she saw the two cups of coffee on the table. “Do you think he took it on purpose?”

“No,” Jeffrey said, never so certain of anything in his life. Cole Connolly had looked horrified when he’d realized what was happening to him. Jeffrey suspected Connolly even knew who had done it. The panic in his eyes told Jeffrey he knew exactly what had happened. What’s more, he knew that he had been betrayed.

Lena walked carefully past the body. Jeffrey wondered if the room was hazardous, what precautions they should take, but his mind wouldn’t stay on any one thing for very long. He kept thinking about that cup of coffee. No matter what the circumstances, he always accepted an offer of a drink from someone if he was trying to get information out of them. It was Cop 101 to set the other party at ease, make them think they were doing something for you. Make them think you were their friends.

“Look at this.” Lena was standing at the closet, pointing to the clothes neatly hanging on the rod. “Same as Abby’s. Remember? Her closet was like this. I swear, you could’ve put a ruler to it. They were the same width apart.” She indicated the shoes. “Same here, too.”

“Cole must have put them back,” Jeffrey provided, loosening his tie so that he could breathe. “He came in on her when she was packing to leave town.”

“Old habits die hard.” Lena reached into the back of the closet, pulling out a pink suitcase. “This doesn’t look like his,” she said, setting the plastic case on the bed and opening it.

Jeffrey’s brain told his feet to move so that he could go over, but they refused. He had actually stepped back, almost to the door.

Lena didn’t seem to notice. She was pulling at the lining of the suitcase, trying to see if anything was hidden. She unzipped the outer pocket. “Bingo.”

“What is it?”

She turned the case upside down and shook it. A brown wallet dropped out onto the bed. Touching only the edges, she opened it and read, “Charles Wesley Donner.”

Jeffrey tugged at his tie again. Even with the window open, the room was turning into a sauna. “Anything else?”

Lena used the tips of her fingers to slip something out of the lining. “A bus ticket to Savannah,” she told him. “Dated four days before she went missing.”

“Is there a name on it?”

“Abigail Bennett.”

“Hold on to that.”

Lena tucked the ticket into her pocket as she walked over to the bureau. She opened the top drawer. “Just like Abby’s,” she said. “The underwear’s all folded the same way hers was.” She opened the next drawer, then the next. “Socks, shirts, everything. Looks identical.”

Jeffrey pressed his back against the wall, his gut clenching. He was having trouble catching his breath. “Cole said she was going to leave with Chip.”

Lena went to the kitchen cabinets, and Jeffrey told her, “Don’t touch anything,” sounding like a panicked woman.

She gave him a look, walking back across the room. She stood in front of the poster, hands on her hips. A large set of hands was pictured cradling a cross. Fire radiated out from the cross like bolts of lightning. She smoothed her hand over the poster like she was brushing something off it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey managed, not wanting to see for himself.

“Hold on.” Lena picked at the corner of the poster, trying not to rip the taped edge. Slowly, she peeled back the paper. The wall behind it had been cut out, several shelves nailed into the studs.

Jeffrey forced himself to take a step forward. There were Baggies on the shelves. He could’ve guessed what was in them, but Lena brought them over anyway.

“Look,” she said, handing him one of the clear bags. He recognized the contents, but the more interesting part was the fact that there was a label on it with someone’s name.

He asked, “Who’s Gerald?”

“Who’s Bailey?” She handed him another bag, then another. “Who’s Kat? Who’s Barbara?”

Jeffrey held the bags, thinking he was holding a couple thousand dollars’ worth of dope.

Lena said, “Some of these names sound familiar.”

“How so?”

“The people from the farm that we interviewed.” Lena went back to the cutout. “Meth, coke, weed. He’s got a little bit of everything here.”

Jeffrey looked at the body without thinking, then found himself unable to look away.

Lena suggested, “He was giving Chip drugs. Maybe he was giving these other people drugs, too?”

“The snake tempted Eve,” Jeffrey said, quoting Connolly.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and he turned to see Sara walking up the stairs.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she told him, though she had gotten there in record time. “What happened?”

He stepped out onto the landing, telling Lena, “Cover that up,” meaning the poster. He slipped the Baggies into his pocket so he could process them without having to wait for Ed Pelham to take his sweet time. He told Sara, “Thanks for coming.”

“It’s fine,” she told him.

Lena joined him on the landing. He told her, “Go get Two-Bit,” knowing there was nothing else they would find. He had put off bringing in the Catoogah County sheriff long enough.

Sara took his hand as soon as Lena had left.

Jeffrey told her, “He was just sitting there drinking coffee.”

She looked into the room, then back at him. “Did you have any?”

He swallowed, feeling like he had glass in his throat. That was probably how it had started for Cole, a feeling in his throat. He had started coughing, then gagging, then the pain had ripped him nearly in two.

“Jeffrey?”

He could only shake his head.

Sara kept holding his hand. “You’re cold,” she told him.

“I’m a little upset.”

“You saw the whole thing?”

He nodded. “I just stood there, Sara. I just stood there watching him die.”

“There was nothing you could do,” she told him.

“Maybe there was-”

“It killed him too quickly,” she said. When he did not respond, she put her arms around him, holding him. She whispered, “It’s okay,” into his neck.

Jeffrey let his eyes close again, resting his head on her shoulder. Sara smelled like soap and lavender lotion and shampoo and everything clean. He inhaled deeply, needing her scent to wash away the death he had been breathing for the last thirty minutes.

“I have to talk to Terri Stanley,” he said. “The cyanide is the key. Lena didn’t-”

“Let’s go,” she interrupted.

He didn’t move at first. “Do you want to see-”

“I’ve seen enough,” she told him, tugging his hand to get him moving. “There’s nothing I can do right now. He’s a biohazard. Everything in there is.” She added, “You shouldn’t have even been in there. Did Lena touch anything?”

“There was a poster,” he said, then: “He had drugs hidden behind it.”

“He was using?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered. “He was offering them to other people, seeing if they would take it.”

The Catoogah County sheriff’s sedan pulled up, dust swirling in a cloud behind it. Jeffrey couldn’t see how the man had gotten here so quickly. Lena hadn’t even had time to drive to the sheriff’s office.

“What the hell is going on here?” Pelham demanded, jumping out of the car so fast he didn’t even bother to shut the door.

“There’s been a murder,” Jeffrey told him.

“And you just happened to be here?”

“Did you speak to my detective?”

“I passed her on the road and she waved me down. You better be goddamn glad I was already out this way.”

Jeffrey didn’t have the strength to tell him where he could stick his threat. He walked toward Sara’s car, wanting to get as far away from Cole Connolly as he could.

Pelham demanded, “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my jurisdiction without clearing it with me first?”

“Leaving,” Jeffrey told him, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“You don’t walk away from me,” Pelham ordered. “Get the hell back here.”

“You gonna arrest me?” Jeffrey asked, opening the car door.

Sara was right behind him. She told Pelham, “Ed, you might want to call in the GBI for this one.”

He puffed his chest out like an otter. “We can handle our own crime scenes, thank you very much.”

“I know you can,” she assured him, employing that sweetly polite tone she used when she was about to cut someone in two. “But as I suspect the man upstairs has been poisoned with cyanide, and as it only takes a concentration of three hundred parts per million of air to kill a human being, I would suggest you call in someone who might be better equipped to handle hazardous crime scenes.”

Pelham adjusted his gunbelt. “You figure it’s dangerous?”

Sara told him, “I don’t think Jim’s going to want to handle this one.” Jim Ellers was the Catoogah coroner. Now in his late sixties, he had owned one of the more successful funeral homes before he retired, but had kept the job as coroner for pocket money. He wasn’t a trained doctor, rather someone who didn’t mind performing autopsies to help pay his greens fees.

“Shit!” Pelham spat at the ground. “Do you know how much this is gonna cost?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he stomped back to his car and pulled out his CB.

Jeffrey climbed into the car and Sara followed.

“What an ass,” she mumbled, starting the car.

He asked, “Give me a lift to the church?

“Sure,” she agreed, backing away from the barn. “Where’s your car?”

“I guess Lena ’s still in it.” He looked at his watch. “She should be here soon.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m going to need a stiff drink,” he told her.

“I’ll have it waiting when you get home.”

He smiled despite the circumstances. “I’m sorry I wasted your time bringing you out here.”

“It’s not a waste of time,” she told him, pulling up in front of a white building.

“This is the church?”

“Yes.”

He got out of the car, looking up at the small, unassuming structure. He told Sara, “I’ll be home later.”

She leaned over and squeezed his hand. “Be careful.”

He watched her pull away, waiting until he couldn’t see her car any longer before walking up the steps to the church. He thought about knocking but changed his mind, opening the door and entering the chapel.

The large room was empty, but Jeffrey could hear voices from the back. There was a door behind the pulpit, and this time he did knock.

Paul Ward answered the door, shock registering on his face. “Can I help you?”

He was blocking the doorway, but Jeffrey could see the family assembled at a long table behind him. Mary, Rachel and Esther were on one side while Paul, Ephraim and Lev were on the other. At the head of the table was an older man in a wheelchair. In front of him was a metal urn that probably contained Abby’s ashes.

Lev stood, telling Jeffrey, “Please come in.”

Paul took his time moving out of Jeffrey’s way, obviously not happy to have him in the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jeffrey began.

Esther asked, “Have you found something?”

Jeffrey told her, “There’s been a new development.” He went to the man in the wheelchair. “I don’t think we’ve met, Mr. Ward.”

The man’s mouth moved awkwardly, and he said something that Jeffrey took for “Thomas.”

“Thomas,” Jeffrey repeated. “I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances.”

Paul asked, “What circumstances?” and Jeffrey looked to the man’s brother.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Lev said defensively. “I gave you my word.”

“What word?” Paul demanded. “Lev, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Thomas made a calming motion with a shaking hand, but Paul told him, “Papa, this is serious. If I’m going to be counsel for the family, they need to listen to me.”

Surprisingly, Rachel barked, “You’re not in charge of us, Paul.”

“Paul,” Lev interceded. “Please sit down. I don’t think I’ve gotten myself into any trouble.”

Jeffrey wasn’t too sure about that, but he said, “Cole Connolly is dead.”

There was a collective gasp around the room, and Jeffrey suddenly felt like he was in some kind of Agatha Christie story.

“My Lord,” Esther said, hand to her heart. “What happened?”

“He was poisoned.”

Esther looked at her husband, then to her oldest brother. “I don’t understand.”

“Poisoned?” Lev asked, sinking down into a chair. “What on earth?”

“I’m pretty sure it was cyanide,” Jeffrey told them. “The same cyanide that killed Abby.”

“But…” Esther began, shaking her head. “You said she suffocated.”

“Cyanide is an asphyxiant,” he told her, as if he hadn’t purposefully hidden the truth from them. “Someone probably put the salts in water and poured it down the pipe-”

“Pipe?” Mary asked. It was the first time she had spoken and Jeffrey saw that her face had turned milk white. “What pipe?”

“The pipe that was attached to the box,” he explained. “The cyanide reacted-”

“Box?” Mary echoed, as if this was the first time she had heard it. Maybe it was, Jeffrey thought. The other day she had run from the room when he’d started to explain what had happened to Abby. Perhaps the menfolk had kept this particular piece of news from her delicate ears.

“Cole told me he’d done this before,” Jeffrey said, looking at each of the sisters in turn. “Did he punish the other kids this way when they were growing up?” He looked at Esther. “Did he ever punish Rebecca this way?”

Esther seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Why on earth would he-”

Paul cut her off. “Chief Tolliver, I think we need to be alone right now.”

“I’ve got some more questions,” Jeffrey said.

Paul replied, “I’m sure you do, but we’re-”

“Actually,” Jeffrey interrupted, “one of them is for you.”

Paul blinked. “Me?”

“Did Abby come see you a few days before she went missing?”

“Well…” He thought about it. “Yes, I think so.”

Rachel said, “She took those papers to you, Paul. The ones for the tractor.”

“Right,” Paul remembered. “I left them here in my briefcase.” He explained, “There were some legal documents that had to be signed and sent off by close of business.”

“She couldn’t fax them?”

“They had to be the originals,” he explained. “It was a quick trip, down and back up. Abby did that a lot.”

“Not a lot,” Esther contradicted. “Maybe once or twice a month.”

“Semantics,” Lev said. “She would run down papers for Paul so he didn’t have to take four hours out of his day on the road.”

“She took the bus,” Jeffrey said. “Why didn’t she drive herself?”

“Abby didn’t like driving on the interstate,” Lev answered. “Is there a problem? Do you think she met someone on the bus?”

Jeffrey asked Paul, “Were you in Savannah the week she disappeared?”

“Yes,” the lawyer replied. “I told you that before. I spend every other week there. It’s just me handling all the legal business for the farm. It’s very time-consuming.” He took a small notebook out of his pocket and scribbled something down. “This is my Savannah office number,” he said, tearing off the sheet of paper. “You can call my secretary there- Barbara. She can verify where I was.”

“What about at night?”

“Are you asking me for an alibi?” he demanded, incredulous.

Lev said, “Paul-”

“Listen here,” Paul said, getting into Jeffrey’s face. “You’ve interrupted my niece’s funeral. I understand you have to do your job, but this is not the time.”

Jeffrey stood his ground. “Take your finger out of my face.”

“I’ve had just about enough-”

“Take your finger out of my face,” Jeffrey repeated, and, after a moment, the man had the good sense to drop his hand. Jeffrey looked at the sisters, then at Thomas, sitting at the end of the table. “Someone murdered Abby,” he told them, feeling a barely controlled sense of rage burning deep inside of him. “She was buried in that box by Cole Connolly. She stayed in there for several days and nights until someone-someone who knew she was buried out there- came along and poured cyanide into her throat.”

Esther put her hand to her mouth, tears springing into her eyes.

“I’ve just watched a man die that death,” he told them. “I watched him writhe on the floor, gasping for air, knowing full well that he was going to die, probably begging God to go ahead and take him just to release him from the pain.”

Esther dropped her head, crying in earnest. The rest of the family seemed shocked, and as Jeffrey glanced around the room, no one but Lev would look him in the eye. The preacher seemed about to speak, but Paul put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, stopping him.

“Rebecca’s still missing,” Jeffrey reminded them.

“Do you think…” Esther began. Her question trailed off as the implications hit her full force.

Jeffrey watched Lev, trying to read his blank stare. Paul’s jaw had tightened, but Jeffrey didn’t know if this was from anger or concern.

It was Rachel who finally asked the question, her voice quavering at the thought of her niece in danger. “Do you think Rebecca’s been taken?”

“I think somebody in this room knows exactly what’s been going on- is probably a part of it.” Jeffrey tossed a handful of business cards down on the table. “These have all my numbers,” he told them. “Call me when you’re ready to find out the truth.”