In the briefing room, two of the sheep-and-geese mugs at hand and nothing left of the last slice of strudel except crumbs, he told her about delivering the warrant to Darrell McWhorter. “You should have seen him. So cool. The nicest guy about it you could imagine. He drove himself over to the hospital, with me following, thank God, because I sure didn’t want to have to make conversation with him in my car. Got his blood drawn and went home.”
“That doesn’t sound like a man who’s afraid the test will show something incriminating.”
“AB negative. Same as Katie’s.”
“And Cody’s father has to be Rh positive, doesn’t he?”
“You’ve got it. I’d love to be able to put the sonofabitch away for molesting his daughters, ’scuse my French, but there’s no evidence he abused Katie and Kristen still refuses to cooperate. I spoke to a caseworker at DSS and told her about the warrant and everything, but she said after the home study was completed, they could only delay giving Cody to his grandparents as long as the question of whether McWhorter had been abusing Katie remained open.”
“But if he’s not Cody’s father, there isn’t any other evidence of that.”
“Right. It’ll be a happy family reunion.” He licked his finger and picked up a few strudel crumbs.
“I found out why McWhorter is so eager to get his hands on Cody.” Russ’s eyebrows went up. Clare told him about the offer to the Burnses and the meeting scheduled for tomorrow.
“You really think you can convince this guy to allow the Burnses to adopt the baby?”
“I don’t know. I can get him to think twice about taking Cody. It’s worth a try.”
“Be careful, okay? I don’t like the idea of you drawing McWhorter’s attention. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“He sounds like a bully to me, plain and simple.” Clare propped her chin on her fist. “I’m not an easy person to bully. Besides, if the blood tests show nothing, he’ll be out of the running as a suspect in the murder, right?”
“Well . . . I’ll have to drop him back to third place. I haven’t forgotten the Burnses.”
Clare waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t seriously think they did it. You’re thinking it was Ethan.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Are you going to serve him the warrant to test his blood type tonight?” she asked, glancing out into the darkness.
“No. I have to pick up Linda and get her on the six-fifteen train. There’s a big fabric convention or something in New York, and she’s buying stock for her curtains.” He took a sip of coffee. “I’ll drive over to the Stoner’s farm tomorrow after school, bring him in then. That’ll give me enough time to question him and then decide whether to arrest him or not.”
“You’re not worried he might take off someplace?”
Russ shook his head. “His whole life’s right here. All his family and friends. I’ll bet the farthest he’s ever traveled has been New York City on the junior class trip. Where’s he gonna go?”
CHAPTER 12
“Mr. McWhorter, Karen and Geoff can’t solve your problems for you. But they can help prevent further problems.” Clare took a deep breath and thought of the Wednesday Eucharist she would be celebrating a few hours away at noon. The prospect helped her keep her cool. The Burnses shifted on her small office sofa and glowered at her, obviously frustrated and out of temper with McWhorter’s continual sad narrative about his financial woes and his declarations of affection for his dear, departed Katie. So far, he had been skirting the outright offering of Cody in exchange for cash, but the implication was clear enough. Karen and Geoff had outlined the benefits they could give Cody; the excellent home, the education, the love and attention, even the puppy dog in the backyard. McWhorter countered with how ashamed the boy would be of his poor grandparents, how he would reject his own flesh and blood, living in a shabby apartment and eating beans and rice at the end of the month when the money ran low.
When Karen asked him if he wanted to bring up Cody in that shabby apartment, he went into a song-and-dance about poor but honest hearts that could have come straight out of Little Nell. Clare, who had held Kristen’s hand until she thought her bones would grind together while the girl stammered out her story of abuse, kept her peace by picturing herself snapping McWhorter’s kneecap with a well-placed kick. It wasn’t very Christian, and she wasn’t proud of herself, but there it was. They had tried the carrot. Now it was time for the stick.
“What further problems?” McWhorter said.
Clare rose from her admiral’s chair. “Are you aware of the average cost of rearing a child these days, Mr. McWhorter?” She retrieved several sheets of paper from her desktop. “I asked a parishioner to do some research for me on the Internet, and she found several articles giving parents the costs for the first year.” She handed McWhorter a paper. “Take a look. Diapers. Formula. The medical visits. That’s going to be a sizable chunk for a couple living on disability and a pension.”
She dropped another paper into his lap. “Here’s the monthly stipend you’ll be getting as foster parents. Falls a little short of the expenses, doesn’t it?”
Clare handed McWhorter more papers. “Unless your pension stretches quite a bit further, I imagine you or your wife will have to go back to work. Child care and baby-sitters are expensive.” She gave him another paper. “Here’s the average cost of infant care in the tri-county area.” She turned to the Burnses. “Mrs. DeWitt did a great job. She’s very thorough.” The couple were sitting up straight now, staring at her with twin expressions of unconcealed surprise. McWhorter shuffled through the papers, frowning.
“You’ll be taking on a big responsibility, Mr. McWhorter. A big, expensive, time-consuming responsibility. And we’ll make sure you’re doing your job.” She smiled blindingly. “We all feel connected to Cody here at Saint Alban’s. So we’ll be keeping an eye on him. Not just Geoff and Karen, but a whole lot of us. Dropping by to see how he’s doing. Talking to the neighbors. Checking him out when he’s at the grocery store and the bank and the pediatrician’s office.” She could hear her voice loosen into a light Virginia drawl. “Chief Van Alstyne is interested, too, and I’ll bet he’d be happy to arrange for police drive-bys every day. We’ll all be watching out for little Cody. And at the first hint of neglect or abuse one of us will have DSS on you like fleas on a hound.”
“Hey!” McWhorter crumpled the paper he was holding. “You saying I’m gonna beat this kid or starve him or something? Where do you get off saying that?”
“I’m not saying what you will or will not do, Mr. McWhorter. I’m telling you what we all are going to do. I’m telling you, realistically, that you are not going to make one dime off that baby. To the contrary, you can look forward to spending a lot more than you’re used to on the child. Or, you can authorize the Burnses to take custody of your grandson, and accept their more than generous offer to pay any debts Katie left behind.”
“You’re threatening me, aren’t you? I’m being threatened by a priest and a couple of rich lawyers. For trying to give my grandson a good life and a family he can be proud of.”
Clare drank some coffee. She balanced the mug casually in her hand, where McWhorter could see the flying rattlesnake and the motto DEATH FROM THE SKY! She looked at him levelly. “I never threaten, Mr. McWhorter.” His eyes flickered from the coffee cup to her face. “You have a chance to save yourself considerable trouble and to do the right thing for your grandson. Why don’t you take it?” The Burnses were still staring at her. Yes, she thought, I am a very different priest from Father Hames. Get used to it.