“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.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sara lay in bed on her side, looking out the window. She could hear Jeffrey in the kitchen, knocking pans around. Around five this morning, he had scared the shit out of her, jumping around in the dark as he put on his running shorts, looking like an ax murderer in t he shadows cast by the moon. An hour later, he had wakened her again, cursing like a sailor when he accidentally stepped on Bob. Displaced from the bed by Jeffrey, the greyhound had taken to sleeping in the bathtub and was just as indignant as Jeffrey to find them both simultaneously in the tub.