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.”