A Shred of Evidence (28 page)

E
llen Jones sat on the beach, the midday sun hidden behind a glowing thunderhead, and explained to Julie Hamilton how she had overheard Eddie Drummond talking about Ross and then had gone to Hank Ordman and Police Chief Seevers—and eventually to Valerie Mink Hodges.

“Julie, I can understand your anger, but you have to realize I really don’t know you and Ross. I had a moral obligation to pursue what I heard Eddie say for Sarah Beth’s sake—and the other children in the community.”

Julie hugged her knees and seemed to be staring out at the water.

“At least I went through proper channels,” Ellen said.

Julie looked over at Ellen, her eyes brimming with tears. “You never asked me about it.”

“No, I guess I didn’t want to get that close to it.”

Ellen was aware of sirens in the distance and a band of black skimmers about fifty yards off the coastline. She watched the birds glide above the water until they blended into the glare, then stole a glance at Julie.

Finally, the silence again seemed oppressive. “Julie, look at me. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you with this. Perhaps if I had, things would’ve turned out differently. I have to live with that. But please believe me when I tell you that I was deeply concerned for Sarah Beth. Protecting her was my only motivation.”

Julie looked away and dabbed her eyes. “I’m so tired of always having to defend my husband.”

“I’m sure it must be exhausting.”

“You have no idea,” Julie said. “That reporter ruined him. I suppose you think she had the right to report the news. But she twisted everything. It’s so unfair and no one cares.”

“I do.” Ellen reached over and touched Julie’s arm. “I admit her article alarmed me. I asked myself how one man could have been innocent all those times, and—”

“But he was! The problem is no one ever bothered to talk to Ross and find out his heart. They just decided he was some strange breed of serial killer. And why not? It sells a whole lot more newspapers than the truth would.”

Thanks, Valerie, for making all of us journalists look like self-serving jerks!
“Julie, for what it’s worth, I’m not proud of jumping to conclusions about Ross. I finally decided to start praying for him instead of judging him. It’s really softened my heart.”

“Great,” Julie said sarcastically. “Now if you can just pray our daughter back to life, maybe we’ll have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

Police Chief Will Seevers slowed when he reached the Hamiltons’ house, and a wave of picketers parted and let his squad car through. He pulled into the driveway, flung open the car door, and jogged to the front door.

An FBI agent he didn’t recognize held the door open. “In the kitchen, sir.”

Will hurried out to the kitchen, prepared to see the gruesome remains of a suicide-murder. He stopped in the doorway, surprised to see Ross Hamilton sitting at the kitchen table, a blank stare on his face, and Bryce Moore sitting next to him.

“What happened?” Will said. “Where’s his wife?”

“At the grocery store.” Bryce arched his eyebrows. “Ross was going to shoot himself and then changed his mind at the last second. The gun went off, but he’s fine.”

“I just want the pain to stop,” Ross said, his shaking fingers laced together and folded on the table.

Will heard a man’s voice behind him. “Excuse me, Chief. I’m Special Agent Newt Clifford. I’m here to see Ross Hamilton.”

Will stepped aside and listened as Agent Clifford introduced himself to Ross and motioned for everyone else to leave the room.

Will went into the living room with Bryce. “Man, I was expecting blood up to my elbows.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Will realized his knees were a little weak, and he leaned against the wall. “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised at all,” Bryce said. “I think he staged the whole thing.”

“Faked it?”

“Yep. It’s one more way to seem like the grieving father.”

“Come on, Bryce. The guy looks wasted.”

“Sure he does, he’s had years of practice. By the way, Clifford’s one of our profilers. He’s been baffled by this case from the beginning. Maybe now he can get a psych eval on Hamilton.”

“Yeah, well, when he’s done with Ross, maybe he can give me one. This thing’s about to drive me crazy.”

Ellen followed Julie through the back gate of the Hamiltons’ home, each woman carrying two plastic bags of groceries in each hand.

Julie set the bags on the back stoop and opened the door, then picked up the bags and went inside. Ellen waited in the doorway, feeling as if crossing the threshold would somehow thrust her more deeply into Julie’s life.

“You can put the groceries on the countertop,” Julie said.

Ellen hesitated and then went into the kitchen and set down
the bags. “Do you want me to help you put them away?”

“No, I’ll get them. Thanks for your help. I—”

“Mrs. Hamilton?” A man walked into the kitchen from another room.

“Yes, who are you?”

“I’m Special Agent Newt Clifford.”

“Why are you in my house?”

Agent Clifford looked at Ellen and then at Julie. “May I speak to you privately, ma’am?”

“You can speak in front of Ellen. What’s going on?”

“Your husband attempted to take his life.”

Julie put her hands to her mouth, a deep groan coming from within, and began to weep.

“He’s fine, ma’am. He’s okay. He’s sitting in the living room.”

“Julie, I should probably go,” Ellen said.

“No! Please stay. I can’t face this alone.”

Ellen didn’t want to stay. But how could she not? “Go be with Ross. I’ll put things away.”

Julie left the kitchen with Agent Clifford, and Ellen put the perishables in the nearly-empty refrigerator. She opened the pantry and was flooded with guilt that she had never even thought to send them a meal. She began putting away the canned goods when she heard footsteps and turned around—and looked up into the eyes of Police Chief Will Seevers.

“Well, Mrs. Jones … you’re just full of surprises.”

Julie waited until Chief Seevers and the FBI agents had left, then flopped in a chair, her arms tightly folded, and glared at Ross. “How could you?”

Ross looked down at his hands. “All I’m doing is causing you grief.”

“And you didn’t think killing yourself would
add
to it?”

“I just wanted the pain to stop.”

“And what about mine? Do you really think I could cope with
another
death? I love you, Ross, and I’ve stood beside you through every accusation, every heartache.”

“Not
every
one.”

Julie sat forward, her elbows on her knees. “You wanted to kill yourself because I dared to ask if you’d hidden Sarah Beth? What should I have done—ignored my doubt and hoped it would go away? I had a right to know.”

“I told you I didn’t do it.”

“And I believed you! I apologized all over myself. What more can I do? Was killing yourself supposed to punish me? I can’t believe you’d be selfish enough to even think of leaving me to suffer through this nightmare alone.”

“Come on, Julie. You don’t need me. You’ve cut me off ever since Nathaniel died.”

“That’s not true.”

“No? Why do you think we never have a real conversation?”

“Because you’re never home!” Julie shouted. “You don’t want to know how I feel!”

“Give me a break. I listen to you ad nauseum about how lonely you are because I never talk to you. Well, you don’t talk to me either—except to blame me over and over for making you unhappy. If you’re so big on sharing, why don’t you just admit what’s really bothering you? Then maybe we’d have something to talk about.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You think I don’t know you cry all the time? How do you think that makes me feel? I’m the one who ran over Nathaniel. I
killed our son!
Do you have any idea the guilt I’m carrying around?”

“You? What about me?”

The expression faded from Ross’s face. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m the one who didn’t check to make sure Nathaniel was in his bed. If I’d paid more attention, he wouldn’t have gone outside.
It’s
my
fault he’s dead.” Julie’s voice quivered and tears soaked her face. “I’ve been aching to hear you say you forgive me. But every day the chasm between us just gets bigger. I’m sorry I’m so sorry.”

Ross got up and pulled her to her feet, his arms engulfing her, his hand stroking her hair. “Shhh … I never blamed you. Never.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that? All this time I thought you did.”

Ellen sat at the table in the Hamiltons’ kitchen, thinking she had no business hearing the conversation in the next room.

She went through the drawers, looking for something to write with. Finally, she found a yellow pad and a pen and sat at the table and began writing:

Ellen put a kitchen timer on top of the note and left it on the table, then went out the back door and quietly pulled it shut. She paused for a moment.
Father, I pray a blessing upon this house
and upon Julie and Ross. Only You know the layers of pain that compound this situation. I offer myself to be used in any way You see fit and pray for wisdom and clear direction to do whatever You desire. I ask these things in Jesus’ name
.

Ellen blinked to clear her eyes, surprised at the attachment she was starting to feel to this couple. She went out the back gate, wondering if she were brave enough to do what she had just prayed.

Chief Will Seevers sat in his office with Special Agents Bryce Moore and Newt Clifford, and Investigator Al Backus.

“I’m glad Hamilton pulled this stunt,” Bryce said. “It’s given us a green light to get inside this guy’s head. Newt has the psyche testing scheduled for tomorrow.”

“A few hours with him should be very telling,” Newt said. “I’m anxious to talk to him when his wife isn’t present. I need to get him in touch with his feelings and see where it goes.”

“Has he ever been in counseling before?” Will said.

Newt shook his head. “According to him, just crisis counseling after the shooting accident with his brother. Ross was ten.”

“What will your testing prove?” Will said.

“Nothing is foolproof, Chief. But I can tell whether or not this guy is operating on all cylinders. I should be able to determine if the suicide attempt was real or faked.”

Will got up and leaned against the file cabinet, his hands in his pockets. “Even if he staged the attempt, it won’t prove anything.”

“Proof is a relative term when you’re dealing with the complexities of the human mind,” Newt said. “My job is to determine how he’s thinking and what he’s trying to escape from.”

Backus snickered. “How about life behind bars?”

Will shot Backus a reproving look. “Hamilton’s managed to
avoid being charged all these years. What makes you think you can get him to admit anything?”

“He’s on the edge,” Newt said. “He probably wants to confess what’s on his heart. It’s a matter of knowing how far to push him.”

Backus shifted in his chair. “I’ve done everything short of pushing him over a cliff, and he hasn’t given up anything.”

Newt nodded. “Interrogation tactics are one thing. I’m more interested in understanding how his mind works. That’ll tell me a lot about what he’s capable of.”

“Which means we need to get back to work and find something to charge him with,” Bryce said, rising to his feet. “Let’s meet back here tomorrow after Newt’s finished with Hamilton’s evaluation.”

Ellen walked in the door and heard the phone ringing. She set her purse on the kitchen counter and picked up the phone.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me,” Guy said.

“How’d the meeting go?”

“I think I hit a home run. We’re about ready to go back in and finish up, but it sounds like we’re ready to proceed. Thanks for your prayers. What’s going on there? Have you written any more on your book?”

“No, not yet. I tried, but just don’t feel creative today.”

“So what are you doing? Not brooding about the gossip, I hope.”

“I’ve been really busy I’ll talk to you about it tonight when you’re not on the run.”

“Okay. Look, I see Brent walking down the hall. I need to go. Love you.”

Ellen hung up the phone and sat at the breakfast bar, her
body trembling. She thought back on her conversation with Guy the day she had met Julie Hamilton.

“Well, you were a Good Samaritan, inviting her to your home, then listening to her talk What more can you do?”

“Probably nothing. I gave her my phone number.”

“Ellen, you’re not a shrink.”

“I would’ve made a good one, though.”

Ellen breathed in slowly and let it out.
Me and my big mouth!