A Shred of Evidence (34 page)

E
llen Jones walked in the house just after 1:00 AM and heard the phone ringing. She dropped her purse and keys on the countertop and put the receiver to her ear. “Hello, Guy.”

“Where have you been? I’ve left messages all evening. I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“It’s a long story. I’m so exhausted I don’t think I can articulate it well.”

“Let me see if I can stimulate your thinking. I turned on the eleven o’clock news and imagine my surprise when I found out you told police you had spotted Sarah Beth Hamilton in Bougainvillea Park! You might have given me a heads up, Ellen. I’ve already gotten calls from two of my partners, and I was speechless.”

“It was on the Tallahassee news?” Ellen sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. “Things here went into high gear and I’ve been out all evening distributing flyers with the Hamiltons.”

“Hamiltons,
plural?”

“Yes. Let me explain what happened.”

Ellen told Guy what had taken place from the time she heard on the news about Harold Kaufman spotting a girl that looked like Sarah Beth to her distributing flyers with Julie and Ross.

“Guy, it wasn’t the kind of thing I could call and explain to you on the run. I didn’t know I’d be out so late. And I certainly
didn’t think this would make the Tallahassee news. I’m sorry you were embarrassed.”

“That’s all right,” Guy said, his voice softening. “You had your hands full.”

“You’re not mad that I ended up talking to Ross?”

“Not under the circumstances. What were you supposed to do—leave him on the street?”

“My feeling exactly.”

“So what’s he like?”

“Actually, very nice,” Ellen said. “And terribly depressed. It’s obvious the man is torn up over losing his daughter.”

“How many flyers did you have made up?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy … ten thousand.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ellen, what are you going to do with them?”

“Well, between the two Publixes, Walgreens, and every light post we could find till we dropped from exhaustion, we’ve given out two thousand. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to the managers at Wal-Mart and other stores and restaurants that have a lot of customers. I’ll have Ross and Julie put flyers on car windshields in the parking lots.”

“You won’t get very far with just the three of you.”

“I know. I thought I’d call Pastor Crawford and see if he can help recruit some volunteers.”

“Good idea. So you really think you saw Sarah Beth?”

“I
think
so. I’m starting to second-guess myself. But the little girl I saw had her mannerisms, no question.”

“I’m proud of you for taking the bull by the horns.”

“You are? I thought you’d be angry I got involved.”

“Oh, it’s who you are: Ellen Jones, righter of all wrongs. Champion of the underdog. I wouldn’t expect less of you.”

Ellen half smiled. “I do have a way of ending up in the thick of things.”

“Yes, you do. I take it you didn’t get anything written on your novel?”

“No, but by tomorrow night, I’ll have ten thousand flyers in print.”

Will Seevers came in the kitchen door and laid the plastic bag from Publix on the countertop. He opened the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk, then sat at the table, opened the package of Hostess cupcakes, and took a big bite. He pulled a rolled-up flyer from the plastic bag, surprised to see Sarah Beth Hamilton’s face on it.

“You’re back,” Margaret said sleepily. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry I woke you. I was wired and couldn’t sleep, so I went out and got something to snack on.”

“Your usual artery-clogging comfort food?”

He smiled. “Just two little cupcakes. Here, take a look at this.”

Margaret took the flyer and read it. “Where’d it come from?”

“Publix. It was in the sack.”

“Boy, the Hamiltons didn’t waste any time getting this out. You think it was really Sarah Beth?”

“I don’t know. Bryce doesn’t think so. Truthfully, honey, what kind of idiot would abduct a kid and then go out in broad daylight. It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, but it is odd that two different people thought they saw her on the same day. That makes me wonder. By the way, I forgot to tell you Gordy called earlier. Apparently a group of ladies came in for lunch and congratulated him on his
engagement
to Pam Townsend.”

Will stopped chewing and looked at her. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish I were. Let’s see if I can remember how this goes: The wife of one of Gordy’s friends has a friend who’s friends with a friend of Pam Townsend’s former mother-in-law.”

“You couldn’t say that again if your life depended on it.”

“You’re right. Anyway, that’s the rumor circulating, and Gordy is just sick about it.”

Will popped what was left of the first cupcake into his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of milk. “I can’t believe this. After all the time we spent trying to get Gordy out of his shell, promising not to push him, and then this happens? You know how private he is. I hope this doesn’t set him back.”

“Didn’t sound like it to me,” Margaret said. “He’s embarrassed, but his biggest concern is that Pam is hearing the same rumor and might be upset.”

“Have you called her?”

“No, it was too late. I’ll try to catch her in the morning.”

Julie nestled in Ross’s arms, the thought that Sarah Beth might actually be alive bouncing off the walls of her mind. She glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty—exactly one week to the hour that Sarah Beth had been missing.

“Are you asleep?” she whispered.

“You kidding? I can hardly wait for daylight so we can get the rest of those flyers out. I like your friend Ellen. She’s the first person in a long time that hasn’t made me feel like a loser.”

“I’ve never told you this, but after what Ellen heard Eddie say, she would’ve been the first person in line to lock you up and throw away the key. She believed all the media hype and had you convicted for everything that reporter in Biloxi put in the article
and
for abusing Sarah Beth.”

“Then why’s she being so nice?”

“Because she started praying for you instead of condemning you. It’s weird, but she swears it changed her attitude.”

“Too bad more people haven’t done that.”

Julie hesitated, then decided to say it. “What about us, Ross? Are we ever going to start praying again?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Are you angry with God? Because I sure am.”

“Anger would be a walk in the park compared to how I’m feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like a reject …” Ross’s voice cracked. “It’s almost like I can hear God saying, ‘You know, there’s just something about you I’ve never liked.’ Maybe it sounds stupid, but that’s how it feels.”

The hopelessness in Ross’s voice tore at her heart. Julie turned over and looked into his eyes. “There’s no way God feels that way about you. He loves you, Ross. Love is His very essence.”

“Then take a look at my life and show me where His love is. Because I don’t see it.”

In the dim of the nightlight, Julie saw his eyes pool with despair, and was afraid to say anything else.

Ellen pulled the sheets up over her and yielded her entire being to the mattress, her mind racing and her body spent. She closed her eyes and could see Sarah Beth’s face and hear her laughter—but also the lifeless expressions on the faces of Julie and Ross.

Guy’s words kept playing in her mind.
I’m proud of you for taking the bull by the horns. It’s who you are. Ellen Jones, righter of wrongs. Champion of the underdog. I wouldn’t expect less of you
.

Ellen felt a twinge of fear. This was bigger than she was. And what if it was all for naught? What if Sarah Beth’s body was found and her parents’ hopes dashed? Was Ellen willing to stand with them through an agonizing loss? Was she even strong enough? She sensed her role was not merely to be the cheerleader who could throw down her pom-poms when it was all over and walk away. The Lord had called her to be a player. There might be pain. And disappointment. And loss. Was she
up to the task? Was she willing to follow His lead even when she might get hurt?

My
grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness
. Ellen let the words the Lord had said to the apostle Paul comfort her, and had a feeling they were about to become very personal.

W
ill Seevers arrived at the police station early on Wednesday morning and headed straight for the officer’s lounge, pleased to find a fresh pot of coffee already made. He could hardly believe it had been only a week since Sarah Beth Hamilton disappeared. He poured himself a cup of coffee and carried it down to his office, surprised to see the light on and Bryce Moore working at the table.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Will said.

“I never sleep well in motels.”

“Might have something to do with the Hamilton case.”

Bryce smiled wryly. “Do you think?”

“What’re you working on?”

“I’m just going over the transcript of McDaniel’s interrogation. She’s one tough cookie. We’ll never be able to get her to talk unless we can come up with a deal that’s attractive to her.”

“You don’t think staying out of prison is attractive enough?”

Bryce shook his head. “Our profiler says she thrives on the idea of being the heroine for the cause and won’t sell out the kids. But we’ll think of something.”

“Speaking of profiler, have you heard anything from Special Agent Clifford about Ross Hamilton’s evaluation?”

“Yeah, he left me a note. Said to check with you and Al and see if ten o’clock was a good time to meet.”

“Fine with me. Where?”

“In the meeting room where he tested Ross—unless you have other plans for it.”

“No, that’ll work. Did he give you any idea of the results?”

Bryce closed the file and got up from the table. “No, but he never does until he’s got my undivided attention.”

“Well, I’m available at ten. I don’t want to tie myself down too much today, just in case something breaks on the Hamilton case.”

“You still holding out hope that Sarah Beth will be found here?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but someone is sure making a noble effort.” Will reached in his pocket, unfolded the flyer, and handed it to Bryce. “I got this in my grocery bag last night.”

“Didn’t waste any time, did they?”

“Nope. I’m impressed. It’s really a great idea.”

“Seems redundant. Most people already know all this and they’ve been seeing her face on TV for a week.”

“Yeah, but they can refer to the picture on the flyer again if they need to. Publix was using these as bag stuffers. My guess is they’re not the only ones doing it.”

Ellen Jones waited until seven o’clock and then dialed Pastor Crawford’s number.

“Hello.”

“Dorothy, it’s Ellen Jones. I hope I didn’t get you out of bed.”

“No, we’re having our coffee.”

“May I speak to Pastor Crawford, please?”

“Yes, of course. Hold on just a minute.”

Ellen opened and closed her hand a few times, pleased that her fingers seemed almost well.