Tin God (20 page)

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Authors: Stacy Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Mystery, #Thriller, #Murder, #female protagonists, #Romantic Suspense, #disturbing, #Small Town, #Historical Fiction, #disturbing psychological suspense

BOOK: Tin God
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4

Nick left before the sun came up and arrived in Jackson by seven a.m. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Elaine finally agreed to meet him without Jaymee. Last night, he’d been positive the safest place for her was in Roselea under the watchful eye of Cage, but now that he was ninety miles away from her, Nick wasn’t so sure.

He couldn’t shake the feeling they were missing something vital, something that would stand the case on its head. Something that might get Jaymee killed.

He tried to relax by gorging on a stack of pancakes, but the coffee he had consumed on the drive made him jittery. Tapping his knife on the table, Nick watched the clock. Elaine was late. She’d insisted on meeting him here at an old Denny’s in Pearl, a small town about five miles east of Jackson.

He’d chosen his spot strategically, sitting in a back corner booth and facing the door. Elaine said she’d be wearing a white blouse and blue skirt. Her hair was dark blond and shoulder length. So far, no woman matching that description had shown up. And if Elaine stood him up, she’d make his appointment this afternoon next to impossible to pull off.

Nick poured another cup of coffee from the chrome canister followed by two packets of sugar. If Elaine didn’t show, he’d call Kara Butler, Lana’s friend at the courthouse, and see if she could tell him where Andrews worked.

His phone vibrated. He snatched it, expecting to see the same number Elaine had called from, but instead saw Detective Charles’s number. Panic hummed in his throat.

“Hello?”

“You in Jackson?” Charles wasted no time.

“Yeah. Elaine Andrews called, wants to talk supposedly. I’m waiting for her.”

“Watch yourself. Royce Newton’s M.I.A too.”

“Since when?”

“I went to Evaline last night, place was closed up. Car wasn’t in the garage.”

“You think he and Holden are hiding out somewhere?”

“If you and Jaymee are right about all this, it makes sense.” Charles cleared his throat. “We’ve finally got a hit on Newton’s financials. Ever heard of RLN Enterprises?”

“No.”

“Looks like some sort of dummy corporation he’s got set up. Nice chunk of change deposited like clockwork every month.”

Nick listened to Charles’s explanation with growing suspicion. It was looking more and more like Royce and Holden had gotten spooked and decided to run. If he could get Elaine Andrews on his side, this afternoon had potential. He could use the men’s disappearing act to his advantage.

“Nick Samuels?”

His head jerked up. Standing next to the booth was a woman in a blue skirt and white blouse. Her dark blond hair hung around her hunched shoulders, and she wore a pair of large sunglasses. Her fingers trembled.

“Elaine?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll check in later.” Nick ended the call and stood to offer his hand, but she sat down, half-crouched in the booth. She pulled and squeezed her bottom lip, then dug into her purse, retrieving a pack of Camel Lights. She drew one out and stuck it in her mouth, making the lines around her lips more prominent.

“I know I can’t smoke in here. Calms me.”

A waitress approached, but Elaine waved her off. Her black sunglasses made her look like an overgrown praying mantis. One more glance around, and she finally pushed the sunglasses back on her head. A smattering of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose, and her eyes were an average brown. Her face was full, matched to a body that carried some extra weight but still sported a healthy figure. Laugh lines around her eyes hinted at a woman who was usually much happier.

“Are you being followed?” Nick asked.

“There was a strange car parked outside my house this morning. Tinted windows. I couldn’t tell who was driving, but I think it followed me. I eventually lost track of it.”

Elaine took the cigarette out of her mouth, holding it like a seasoned smoker. “Not that I was surprised. Someone’s willing to go pretty damned far to keep Wilcher’s dirty secrets. He’s already killed two women.”

“Three,” Nick corrected.

Elaine scrunched her eyes shut and jammed the Camel back into her mouth with an unsteady hand. “Three?”

Nick explained about Crystal. “She had ties to all of the suspects, and she knew about Jaymee’s daughter. We’re not sure why she was killed, but police believe her murder is connected.”

Elaine chewed on the unlit Camel.

“Look, you’re scared, and I’m stressed out,” Nick said. “When we spoke the other day, you talked about Lana having all the evidence she needed to bring Holden Wilcher down. Nothing like that was recovered with her body. I’ve seen the evidence.”

“Must be nice to be a big-shot reporter with connections.”

“Sometimes.”

Elaine grabbed an empty coffee cup and filled it to the brim with the pot the waitress had left for Nick earlier. “When I was twenty, I was a member of New Life Baptist. Wilcher had only been preaching there for a year, maybe two. My parents took their role in the church seriously and immediately buddied up to the new pastor. Before long, he was coming over for family dinner on Sunday.”

“Were you still living at home?”

“During college, yes. One Sunday, Holden volunteered to drive me back to school.” She ran the cigarette across her lips. “He was different on that ride. Much more charming. Personal. Flirty.”

“He pursued you.”

Elaine’s smile was brittle. “I’m no beauty queen now, but I can hold my own against most women. Back then, though, I was a good twenty pounds overweight and a bookworm. Afraid of my own shadow and too self-conscious to dress properly or think about having a boyfriend. Church was my social life.”

“I see where this is going,” Nick said. “Wilcher’s a predator.”

“And I was ripe for the screwing.”

“Then you got pregnant. What’d he do?”

“Panicked, at first. We were in his car. A white Chevy Malibu. Nothing fancy for him back then. He didn’t have any more money than the rest of us.” Elaine looked around the nearly empty restaurant. Satisfied no one was paying them any attention, she continued. “Carried on about how I was going to ruin him.

“So there we were, me feeling like the world’s biggest tramp, when suddenly, Holden stopped. His face lit up, and he turned to me with this look. I still remember it to this day. His eyes were wild, and he was grinning like some sort of rabid hyena, his skin all flushed over his tan. I felt like ice water had been thrown over me, and I knew things were going to go south.

“Construction had just been completed on his unwed mother’s home. He and his wife–who, by the way, Holden always said suffered from social anxiety and rarely left the house–couldn’t have kids, but she wanted to help women who got themselves in trouble.” Elaine paused to balance her smoke between her lips. “As if it only takes one to make a child. Anyway, me being pregnant made me his poster child.”

“For Hannah’s House.”

Elaine let the Camel fall from her mouth. Her face twisted up in a grimace of hate. “Hannah’s my middle name. At the time, I thought the choice was endearing. So stupid. He was just mocking me.

“So he convinced me to keep his name out of it. After all, I’d ruin so many lives. People were counting on him, and besides, I’d told him I was on the pill. That made it my fault. I believed him. He went with me to tell my parents. We told them I’d come to him first for support. He kept my father from smacking me. Gave them his brilliant plan. All that was left to be finished on Hannah’s House was some interior work, so I could move in. My parents knew they couldn’t hide me, but they didn’t want to flash me around town, either. I spent almost eight months in that damned place listening to the racket of the workers finishing the rooms.”

“What about school?” Nick asked.

“Oh, I finished. That was part of my agreement with Holden. I kept quiet, but he helped with tuition. His offer, not my request.”

“And when your son was born?”

She tried once again to smoke the unlit cigarette. “Couple of weeks before he was born, Holden came to me. Hannah’s House had been fully established by then, and he said he was working with an adoption agency. I kept waiting to meet a social worker or an attorney, but Holden told me and my parents he’d handle all of that. Anyway, suddenly, he’s found the perfect couple. Problem is, they don’t qualify for adoption because of her health. He ranted about how stupid it was because they had plenty of money and were a good, loving family. Finally he got down to the point. They’d offered him $50,000 for an infant.”

“Hard to pass up.”

“I told him no. This was my child, and selling him like produce was unimaginable. But I was tired. Full of hormones. And I still thought I loved this man. He told me how my half of the money would be enough to help me finish school, and the rest would be a great help to Hannah’s House. There were other prospective parents for the baby, but so far, none had been approved. If I didn’t accept the offer, I’d have no say in who adopted him. What if he went into an abusive home? I couldn’t handle that thought.”

“So you agreed to sell him.” Nick tried to keep his voice neutral, but the look on Elaine’s face proved he’d failed.

“Believe me,” she said. “Not a day goes by I don’t regret it. I’m not going to try to make you understand my reasoning. I’m here to give you some answers about Lana. That’s it.”

“Fair enough.”

“So I agreed. On one condition.”

“Which was?”

“I wanted to meet the couple. I wanted them given a complete record of our health history. That way, if the boy got sick down the line, they’d have all of that information, just as they would have if the adoption had been legal. And I wanted my own copy. Holden fought against it, but it was the only way I would agree to the deal.” She put the Camel down. “I tried to do the right thing by my child.”

“I’m sure you did.” Nick worked to make sense of what she was saying. “So you’re telling me–”

“I have a copy of Holden’s medical records, complete with blood type, as well as my son’s. I know the name of his adoptive parents.”

“How do you know the records are really Holden’s? What if he gave you bogus information?’’

This time, her smile was sly. Elaine didn’t look like a victim anymore. She looked like a woman who’d learned how to play the game and take care of herself.

“Didn’t matter. By then, I knew I had the upper hand. Holden’s television show was just getting popular outside of Mississippi, and that fame was very important to him. I realized he didn’t love me and never had. I told him he didn’t have to sign the copy of the birth certificate the adoptive parents received, but I wanted a signed statement that he was my son’s father. For my own financial protection.”

Nick’s breath came in short huffs. “And that’s what Lana had.”

“Yes.”

“So how did it work? The adoptive parents had a birth certificate but an illegal adoption. How did they file it or get the kid a social security number?”

Elaine shrugged. “They had money. And connections to a federal court judge. Helps.”

“Why didn’t you just expose him then? If you loved your kid, why did you take the money?”

She took a long sip of her coffee. “When I met the adoptive parents, my heart broke. She was a diabetic on insulin. Her doctor said she was perfectly capable of caring for a child, but the powers-that-be saw differently, and they were scratched from the list. They’d tried for three years to get back on, but no one would listen. All they wanted was a child to love.”

“So you felt sorry for them.”

“I knew I was too selfish to be a decent mother. And that woman deserved to be one.”

“And you got paid for your kindness.”

“That money is in a trust for my daughter. I never touched a cent of it. And why do you think I became a social worker? I knew what I did was wrong, but I also knew I’d been manipulated into believing I had no other choice.

“And I thought I was succeeding. Until a few years later when I overheard a woman talking in the records room at the courthouse. She kept telling someone she’d prove the adoption wasn’t legal, that the preacher had sold the baby.”

“Lana.”

“I swear I nearly fainted on the spot. I knew right then and there who she was talking about.”

“When was this?”

“Week or so before she was killed. Lana and I met a couple of times, and I knew she was telling the truth. Wilcher pulled the same thing he did to me, only this time, he had more experience. And a partner. Which meant he’d sold more than just a couple of babies.”

“You decided to help.”

“Night before she was killed, I stopped over at your place. You were working. Gave Lana copies of all my medical information and Holden’s signature on the birth certificate. She had all she needed.”

“That wasn’t recovered.” Nick’s hand trembled, sloshing his coffee onto the table.

“No. It’s got to be with her killer. If he knows I have proof, he’ll come after me, too.”

He set down his coffee, wiped his mouth and the table with a paper napkin. Nick settled back into the booth regarding Elaine with both compassion and mild contempt. He pushed his personal feelings aside. They needed her to crack this case.

“I understand, but if the killer knew you had evidence, he would have already done something about it. More women are dying, and you need to act.” He paused, giving his words time to sink in. “Are you willing to turn the evidence over to the police and testify in court?”

“Not yet,” she said. “You find out who Holden’s accomplices are, make my family safe, then we’ll talk.”

Nick was prepared for her reaction. “I thought you’d say that. I’ve got a plan, but I’m going to need your help.”

2
5

Jaymee nerves were frayed. Every eye in the diner followed her, and the whispering droned in her ears. Some customers shot her accusing looks while others refused to look her in the eye when they ordered. Even more asked questions they had no business asking, and a few looked on her with pity.

She’d been tempted to leave, but spending the rest of the day with Lorelai and Oren sounded worse than being judged at the diner. Lorelai ignored her at breakfast while Oren acted as though nothing had happened. Cage kept silent on the ride to work. He was angry with her, and she didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. Worst of all, she missed Nick.

That’s not how this was supposed to turn out. She wasn’t supposed to fall seriously for any man, not until she had her daughter back.

Elaine’s words from last night added to her well of unease. Her daughter might be happy and safe. What if she had two loving parents who didn’t even realize they’d done something illegal? Nick said it happened more than people realized, with attorneys hiding fees and preying on unsuspecting couples. If Sarah and her new family were just as victimized as she was, did Jaymee really have the right to barge in and turn their lives upside down?

“You okay?” Sallie patted her arm with motherly concern.

“Sure.” Jaymee stuck her plastic Pepsi glass beneath the soda machine and pressed the ‘water’ button.

“You look a little green.”

“I feel plenty green.”

“Go home.”

“No, I need to work. It’s better for me here, honestly.”

Sallie leaned in close, her back to the busy diner. “Reverend Wilcher still missing?”

“Yep. Seems like most people have decided I had something to do with it.”

“That’s because they’re stupid and short-sighted. You were here all day. That’ll come out eventually.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, anyone bothers you, let me know,” Sallie said. “I’m not so desperate for business I can’t throw a pompous ass out the door.”

Jaymee’s half-smile was forced. “All right.”

The diner’s door opened, and Jaymee braced herself to wait on another customer. She grabbed her tray, stretched her mouth into another painful smile, and turned in search of the newest eater. Detective Charles blocked the doorway with his bulk. The entire diner seemed to pause in mid-eat, creating a silence so loud Jaymee’s ears burned.

Grim-faced, Charles nodded and then trudged forward. He bellied up to the counter, and Jaymee walked on leaden feet to stand beside him. She searched his eyes, but he was a seasoned cop and good at keeping a poker face.

Most diners had resumed eating, the clinks of plates and forks slow and deliberate. Conversation still lulled.
To hell with them all
. These people didn’t know the real her, and they sure as shit didn’t know Holden Wilcher walked with the devil. She set her tray down on the counter with a bang looking up at Detective Charles with all the confidence she could muster.

“You’ve got some information?”

“Not much. Still missing. Your dad’s down at the station filing the report right now.”

“I’m sure he’s accusing me.”

“Pretty much. Thinks you had Nick do the dirty part for you.”

“Annabelle already told you he was at her place.”

“She couldn’t account for all day, though. Once this report’s filed, there’ll be a warrant issued to search Nick’s car. Sooner the better. We can eliminate him and move on.”

Acid burned in Jaymee’s stomach. She clenched her fist on the countertop. The watching eyes made her feel unclean. Their unspoken accusations were so loud Jaymee almost believed them.

“So his disappearance is your main priority now. Screw Rebecca. And Lana.”

“It’s not about Wilcher,” Charles said. “A missing person always gets priority. We treat him as a living victim unless we know otherwise. And I’m still working your case.”

Charles looked around at the customers who were pretending to not to eavesdrop. “Meantime, don’t let the scavengers get to you. They’re stupid enough to believe gossip, they ain’t worth worrying about.”

Jaymee gave him a tight, grateful smile. Detective Charles lumbered out of the diner, and slowly, the morning’s normal noise resumed. She jumped at the tap on her shoulder.

“You’ve got a phone call,” Sallie said.

Nick
. What if Elaine hadn’t showed? Or worse yet, what if she had and then refused to give Nick any information? Jaymee grabbed the receiver and headed to the back hallway near the restrooms.

“Nick? Did she show?”

A man cleared his throat. “This isn’t Nick.”

“Reverend Gereau?”

“Yes. I need to see you right away.”

“I’m working.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“It’s just Sallie and me. I can’t leave.” A prickly sensation traveled down Jaymee’s spine and settled into her toes. “My shift break is in a couple of hours. I can meet you at the church.”

“I’m at home.”

Penn Gereau lived in the antebellum district down the hill from Evaline. His family home was among the oldest in the county, but the reverend didn’t allow tours. Jaymee had been by the place many times, longing to see inside, but she’d never set foot on the grounds.

“That’s a long walk,” she said. “I wouldn’t have much time to help you.”

“I’ll pick you up.” The call ended. Dread lodged in Jaymee’s chest. What could Gereau possibly want from her?

###

Two hours later, his sedan waited in front of Sallie’s. Jaymee made sure her boss knew where she was going and that she planned to return. Gereau seemed harmless, but the more she thought about his harried tone, the more nervous she became. Something wasn’t right.

“Thank you for coming.” The reverend wasn’t wearing his pastor’s collar, she noted. His jeans were worn and slightly grimy, his blue polo shirt wrinkled. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes, and at least two days worth of graying scruff decorated his face. He didn’t speak as he merged into traffic. Jaymee picked at her fingernails and tried to control the drumming of her heart as they left downtown and entered the historic district. She pretended to relax, but her hand lingered near the door handle. At every stop, she considered leaping out of the car.

Magnolia House sat at the corner of Forrest and Swan. Built in 1820 by French General Pierre Dupree, the house was a classic Greek Revival, pristine white with huge Corinthian columns and granite steps leading up to the large front porch. Gereau turned the car onto the brick-lined driveway.

Her throat felt as though she’d eaten sand, but she forced herself to speak and ask a question she already knew the answer to. “This is your family home?”

“Yes. General Dupree was my great-great uncle.”

“Did you grow up in Roselea?”

“Over the river in Vidalia. But we visited here quite a lot.” His eyes flashed to Jaymee, pink spots blooming in his cheeks. “Especially when I was younger and just out of seminary school. My first job was at a small church in Vidalia, and my aunt Maggie, who owned Magnolia at the time, was ill. I spent quite a bit of time here taking care of her.”

“Didn’t she have children?”

“No. That’s how I inherited Magnolia House.”

They parked near a small, detached garage. Its door was closed, but from the exterior design, Jaymee assumed it was once a carriage house. As she followed Gereau up the cobblestone path toward the house, she realized how well the four magnolia trees hid the home from the street. Despite its corner location, Magnolia House had a private feel. Almost isolated.

White wrought iron surrounded the columns and acted as a stairwell railing. Jaymee gripped the metal, her shoes slapping loudly against the marble steps. Unlike Evaline, this porch wasn’t a wraparound, and it was guarded by a slew of rosebushes.

The click of Gereau’s key echoed across the porch. Jaymee shook off her nerves and followed him inside.

An enormous crystal chandelier dominated the entryway. Sunlight flooded in through the large eastern windows, casting prisms off the chandelier onto the marble floor.

“How beautiful,” Jaymee said.

“You’ll have to have the tour some other time,” Gereau’s voice was gruff. “I need to show you something.”

He led her through the grand entry to what looked like an original kitchen. A quick glance told Jaymee nothing was in working order, and she assumed the various dust bunnies meant the reverend didn’t use this room. Against the western wall was a heavy mahogany door that was at least two-and-a-half inches thick. Gereau turned the brass knob, and the door eased open with a groan.

A musty smell hit Jaymee’s nostrils. A rush of nerves stalled her movement, and she stopped two feet behind Gereau. She could barely make out a set of old stairs leading to the basement because of lousy lighting.

She took a step back. “What’s going on?” Sweat beaded on her upper lip, and a scream bubbled in her chest. Maybe she and Nick had Gereau all wrong. He was really working for Holden, and now he planned to drag Jaymee into his stinking, old basement to shut her up.

Gereau pulled a dingy looking string, and a single light bulb lit up the bottom of the stairs. “I have a confession to make, Jaymee.”

Instinct told her run, but her desire for answers and shock left her paralyzed.

The smell of old wood and stale air surrounded Jaymee. The pale yellow light messed with her sense of time and made her feel unbalanced. She tried to lift her feet but they remained rooted to the floor with fear.

Gereau stepped closer and took her trembling hand in his. “I did this for you. When you were pregnant, I should have intervened. I should have helped you. But instead, I cowered and believed Wilcher knew how to take care of you.” Gereau’s tired expression shifted to one of pure rage. “If I’d known what he’d done, I would have throttled him with my bare hands.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Her voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat. A new suspicion overrode her fear. “What’s in the basement, Reverend Gereau?”

He smiled a tired, sorrowful smile. “Answers, my dear.”

###

Nick smoothed his hair and adjusted his dress shirt. Too damned hot for long sleeves, but he needed to look like he had money to spare. A pang of guilt ran through him. He should have told Jaymee he’d managed to get a hold of Debra Davies early this morning and scheduled a meeting with her. But it all hinged on Elaine, and he didn’t want to get Jaymee’s hopes up.

He checked his watch. Almost two o’clock. She was in between shifts right now. He wondered if she’d gone back to Lorelai’s cold shoulder or stayed at the diner. Maybe Cage had stopped by. He should call.

“This isn’t going to work.” Elaine shifted nervously beside him. “I need a cigarette.”

“No time,” Nick said. “She’s supposed to be here any minute.”

They were seated at a back table in Char, an expensive restaurant in Jackson’s Highland Village. Suggested by Debra, of course.

“She’s not going to buy it,” Elaine said. “She’s been doing this for years now. I’m sure she can spot a fraud in a heartbeat.”

“All she cares about is the money,” Nick said. “If she believes I’ve got it to spend, then she’s going to bite.”

A tall, lithe redhead with porcelain skin approached them, smiling warmly. Heads turned, and Nick couldn’t deny the woman’s beauty. Delicate skin, full-lips, high cheeks, and a confident smirk that made it clear she knew exactly the effect she had on the opposite sex.

The green sleeveless dress she wore clung to her in all the right places, showing just enough skin to make a man’s heartbeat accelerate. A modern day succubus. Nick didn’t know much about fashion, but he knew the dress was expensive, and her heels didn’t look cheap, either. Her jewelry was understated– simple gold bracelet and earrings – but her bag had a brand name most women coveted.

He wondered how she dressed when she played the social worker. Lana never had much of a budget for clothes. She was too busy paying off loans. But Debra Davies clearly liked money and flaunted it. She extended her arm, and Nick caught the scent of sunscreen beneath her perfume. “Mr. and Mrs. Sayers?”

“Yes.” Nick stood, taking her hand. Her skin was soft, her grip firm. She sized him up with eyes the color of blue sky. If he didn’t know what a snake this woman was, her beauty would have him blabbering like a fool. He pulled out a chair for Debra, seating her between himself and Elaine. “This is my wife.”

“Happy to meet you.” Debra’s tone was gentle and unassuming. “How long have you been married?”

Nick nodded at Elaine. They’d rehearsed this.

“Seven years.”

“Wonderful. And you’re an investment banker, Mr. Sayers?”

“Call me Nate, please. Yes. Based out of Atlanta. We’re here visiting family.”

Debra’s smile reminded him of a mountain lion getting ready to strike. Her eyes, beautiful as they were, possessed a calculating coldness that made her ugly. “How long have you been trying for a family?”

“Nearly all of our marriage,” Elaine answered stiffly. Her fingers trembled. Nick snatched her hand and gave it a warning squeeze, hoping it looked like comfort.

“You’ve tried in vitro?”

“Yes,” Nick said. “My wife’s not able to carry past the first trimester. We’ve had three miscarriages.”

Elaine looked down at her lap. Debra sighed with overly done compassion. Her stunning eyes remained cold, frozen in apathy. “You’ve been turned down as adoptive parents?”

“We’ve tried,” Nick said. “But I work long hours, and I travel. Elaine has Crohn’s Disease, and we can’t get past the medical red tape.”

“It’s been awful.” Elaine took a long sip of water. “All my life, I’ve dreamed of being a mother. We’re financially stable, I’d be able to stay at home with our baby, raise it instead of passing the child off onto a sitter. Yet they I’m told I’m unsuitable.”

“Happens more than you realize,” Debra said. “Have you thought about adopting an older child? Sometimes the medical regulations are easier to subvert.”

“We want an infant,” Nick said.

“And where did you hear about me again?” Debra tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her Cheshire-cat smile was dangerously deceptive, her eyes hypnotizing. Coupled with her sweet voice, Nick could easily understand how this woman had manipulated an unsuspecting and desperate girl like Jaymee.

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