A Shred of Evidence (26 page)

“Hmm. Think you know me pretty well, don’t you?”

Weezie took her index finger and poked his chest. “And don’t you forget it. I’ve been prayin’ the Lord would heal that heart of yours. He can help you feel good about what is without diminishin’ what was.” She put her arms around him.

Gordy blinked several times to clear his eyes. “I could do without all this mush, you know.”

Weezie gave him one last squeeze then let go. “Wait’ll you see the figures from last night. This place was packed out from five till closin’ time.”

“Did you have enough staff?”

“Honey, I was the grease on a finely tuned machine. Not only were we enough, we done you proud.”

Gordy heard the passion in her voice and saw the excitement
on her face. It seemed foolish to put off the inevitable. “Let’s go in my office. I’ve got somethin’ I wanna run by you.”

Gordy followed her into his office and sat in the chair next to her. “How many years have you worked for me, Weezie?”

“Nine, if you count that summer I started part time.”

“You’re the best employee I’ve ever had, bar none. In many ways, you seem like family. Jenny always thought so, too.”

“I feel that way. Guess when you work with people, you get to know them real well.”

“But I think we have a workin’ relationship that’s pretty unusual. You’ve always done anything I’ve asked you to do and never complained that I didn’t pay you more.”

“You’ve always been fair with me. I love my job here. Never saw any cause to make waves when you asked me to do more. I was always flattered you trusted me to get it done.”

Gordy put his fingers to his chin. “I think it’s high time I made you assistant manager. Does that have any appeal?”

Weezie’s eyes were round and wide. “You serious?”

“Very Of course, I’d adjust your salary. It would be a big increase. I’d need to rely on you to do the scheduling and to close several nights a week. That would free me up some. I might actually find time to do somethin’ besides work. Interested?”

“Absolutely!” She laughed. “Assistant manager? Imagine that. When do I start?”

He picked up a ruler and held it on her shoulder. “I dub thee assistant manager. That oughta work. Why don’t you go order a new nametag?”

“I can’t believe it. I’m the assistant manager of Gordy’s Crab Shack. Whoooeee, does that ever sound nice!”

Gordy tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “Don’t you let the new title go to your head, now. I’m countin’ on you
not
to change. You’re the best asset I’ve got. That’s why I’m promotin’ you.”

“Don’t you worry, boss, I won’t. My Joshua, rest his soul, must be dancin’ across those streets of gold.”

Gordy smiled. “And would you please stop calling me boss and call me by my first name.”

“That might take some gettin’ used to.”

“Okay, scram. Let me work on the details, and we’ll discuss the new salary before you go home. Don’t say anything to the others. I’ll announce it tomorrow.”

Weezie went to the door and then turned around. “Thank you. I never dreamed I’d be assistant manager.”

“Aw, I should’ve done it a long time ago, Weezie. I just wasn’t ready to have time on my hands.”

Gordy got up and sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the picture of Jenny catching the big marlin. He wondered if Pam had ever been deep-sea fishing. And if she’d thought about him at all since last night.

Will Seevers walked into the officer’s lounge and got a can of Coke out of the vending machine.

“Bravo,” Special Agent Bryce Moore said, clapping his hands. “You weren’t even at the plate and you got a hit-and-run.”

Will popped the top off the Coke and took a sip. “I got lucky. A couple of citizens were on the ball.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m hoping will happen with the RISK organization.”

“Anything new?”

“There might be. It’s premature to get into details, but one of our undercover agents thinks she’s getting some subtle hints about RISK. But we’re going to take this one slower than the last. We can’t take a chance on blowing it.”

Will nodded. “Now that we know Hamilton wasn’t our hit-and-run driver, it’s looking less and less like we’re going to get him for anything.”

“Don’t count on it,” Bryce said. “I still don’t trust the guy. Can’t really put my finger on it, other than his bizarre history. But I’m not through putting him under a microscope.”

“Where do we go from here? Without a body and without incriminating evidence, Hamilton’s out of my reach.”

Bryce started to say something, and then didn’t.

“What?”

“Oh, just something that’s been running through my mind. Probably way off base.”

“Give it a shot.”

“Okay,” Bryce said. “Between you and me and that wall over there, I wonder if Hamilton could’ve handed Sarah Beth over to the RISK group to cover his tail.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Supposing he knew where to find them—or they knew where to find him. How hard could it be to strike a deal? These people would’ve jumped at anything to protect Sarah Beth from an abusive father and keep her out of the system—even agreeing to overlook his guilt.”

“Are you saying Ross might’ve
let
them take his daughter so the Department of Children and Families wouldn’t find out he was abusing her?”

Will lifted his eyebrows. “Let’s just say nothing would surprise me.”

Julie Hamilton sat looking at her hands and heard the mantel clock chime twelve times. She couldn’t remember what day it was.

Ross walked into the living room. “I just ate the last of the bread and peanut butter. And the refrigerator’s almost empty.”

“I’ll go to the grocery store,” Julie said.

“You can’t use the car with the media camped outside. They’ll follow you.”

“I’ve already figured it out. I’ll go out the back gate and cut through the yard behind us. I can walk to the grocery store and bring a few things back. I’ll wear my hair up and put on sunglasses. Nobody will recognize me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ross said. “Make a list. I’ll go.”

“You’d be easier to recognize. Besides, if I don’t get out of here, I’m going to scream.”

He walked over to the couch and sat next to her. He was quiet for a moment, then began cracking his knuckles. “I know I haven’t been communicating worth a hoot. I don’t mean to add to your pain.”

“Or I yours.” Julie blinked to clear the stinging from her eyes. She started to ask his forgiveness again and then decided not to grovel. At least having confronted him with her doubt had opened him up—a little.

“Why don’t you call that lady you made friends with?” Ross said. “She’d probably help you get groceries.”

“I’m just sure Ellen Jones would like to be seen with
me
right now. Her husband’s a prominent attorney You should see the house they live in.”

“You won’t know if you don’t ask. She was awfully sweet to you and Sarah Beth.”

“I don’t know that I have the courage to ask her, under the circumstances.”

Ross jumped up off the couch, went to the window, and looked through the blinds. “Fine, then I’ll go to the store myself. I’m not gonna be intimidated anymore. And I sure as heck am not going hungry rather than face up to a bunch of thugs who call themselves concerned citizens! I don’t care if they stare at me! I don’t care what they think! Or say! Or do! Or threaten!”

Julie got up and put her arms around him. “Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll call her,”

Ellen turned off her laptop and sat back in her chair. It was no use. Until she worked through her anger, she wasn’t going to get anything written on the book. The phone rang and she picked it up.

“Hello …? Hello …? Is anybody—”

“Ellen, it’s Julie Hamilton.”

Ellen’s heart raced and she could hardly catch her breath. “I—I didn’t expect to hear from you. I’m so sorry about Sarah Beth. I’ve been praying for you.”

“You have?” Julie sounded surprised.

“Yes. I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s hard to know what to say.”

There was a long pause and Ellen thought she heard Julie sniffling.

“This is so hard,” Julie said. “But I don’t know who else to ask. Could you possibly take me to the grocery store? We’re really down to the bottom of the barrel. The media’s planted outside my house, and I don’t dare drive the car. I can cut through the yard behind me and meet you on the corner of Orange Blossom and Flamboyant. I’ll wear my hair up and put on dark glasses. No one will know who I am.”

Ellen’s mind was reeling. It didn’t seem wise to get that close to the Hamiltons, and yet … Lord,
what should I do?
In her mind’s eye, Ellen saw an image of the man beaten by robbers and left on the side of the road, and the Good Samaritan stopping to help.

“What will you be wearing?” Ellen said.

“Yellow crop pants and a white blouse.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at the corner of Orange Blossom and Flamboyant in ten minutes.”

“I can’t thank you enough …” Julie’s voice trailed off.
Click
.

Ellen hung up the phone, her hands shaking, and was flooded with doubt—and fear that she had acted impulsively and Guy would be furious with her.
Lord, if I heard You wrong, please cover
me.

W
ill Seevers stood at his office window, his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the gathering outside. He counted twenty-two members of Mothers Against Drunk Driving picketing along the sidewalk, demanding that Terrance Adams be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Special Agent Bryce Moore came and stood next to Will. “Hey, Chief, you did a good job with your statement to the media. The community ought to rest better tonight knowing your hit-and-run is behind bars.”

“I doubt if Jeremy Hudson’s parents will.” Will’s eyes followed the marchers up and down the sidewalk. “I wonder if they really care or are just looking for a cause.”

“How can you say that?” Bryce said. “MADD’s been proactive for a lot of years in getting tougher drunk driving laws passed and enforced. It’s not like you to be so negative.”

Will glanced at Bryce out of the corner of his eye. “My old man was a drunk. He routinely beat the tar out of me, and I figured one day he’d kill me. Would’ve been nice if someone had rallied for tougher laws to protect me from his fist.”

“Yeah, domestic violence can get really nasty. I take it your mother couldn’t protect you?”

“Nope. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t black and blue. He pretty much terrorized the whole family. They say alcoholism’s a disease, but that always seemed to me like a cop out.”

“I guess unless you’re addicted, it’s hard to understand or sympathize.”

Will put his hands in his pockets. “How sympathetic should I be toward a guy like Terrance Adams who got behind the wheel after drinking himself into such a stupor that he ran down a kid and didn’t even know it? I mean the creep took his truck to the carwash and rinsed off the fragments of somebody’s child like bugs off his windshield.”

“He thought he hit a deer.”

“He hit a dear, all right—just not the kind he thought. I’ll never understand why a guy like Adams was put back on the street.”