Part 7 (1/2)

”But you have seen him?” That golden intensity was back in his gaze.

”I think I have. Like I said, though, I couldn't tell you where. Between the Coffee Corner, Ben's dorm and the ongoing parade of workers who've come through here on the remodeling job, I see a lot of young men in their late teens and early twenties.”

”That's okay, Ms. Harris. All I wanted was for you to give it your best shot. Your answers don't have to please me. They just have to be the truth.” He stood to leave and I stood with him.

”Does this mean you're focusing on people other than Ben in your investigation now?” Ben gave me a look behind Fernandez's back that seemed to tell me to sit down and shut up. I cheerfully ignored him.

”We are, to tell you the truth. Of course we still can't rule anyone out at this stage of the game. However there are several individuals I need to talk to whose prints have shown up where Ben's didn't. Or yours, either, for that matter.”

”Well, I'm glad to hear that.” Had he really considered me a suspect at any time? I couldn't imagine it, but with Fernandez it was hard to tell. ”I mean, I'm glad my prints didn't show up anyplace strange, not that you're considering the young men on the construction crew. I imagine most of them have mothers who will be just as upset as I am to know their sons are suspects in a murder.”

”Probably so. Somewhere out there is one mother who won't be at all surprised when we come knocking on her door. Few murders happen out of the blue.”

Fernandez's words made me s.h.i.+ver. What would it be like to think someone as close to you as your son was capable of murder? It was difficult for me to imagine.

”How much chance do you have of solving this one? I've always heard that homicides that aren't solved in the first few days are less likely to be solved at all.”

Fernandez pointed a finger at me. ”You've been watching those cop shows on TV again, haven't you? That's not necessarily so. Some crimes, like gang shootings, usually need a witness who's willing to talk or something else that has to come up quickly. But a lot of the rest are solved by good old-fas.h.i.+oned police work and sometimes that takes time.”

He gave me another look on his way out that told me that when it came to solving this murder, Ray Fernandez would take all the time he needed. Once more I was glad that Ben no longer seemed to be his primary suspect.

Chapter Eleven.

Sunday began quietly. I got up and read my pa.s.sages for women's Bible study cla.s.s, which I should have done days ago but hadn't. I savored a couple cups of hot coffee while I read, waiting for Ben to get up. He'd told me the night before that he would go to church with me if I didn't go to the earliest service possible.

I had showered the night before, so we didn't have any squabbles over the hot water when he finally got up, about half an hour later than I would have to make it to church at 9:30 a.m. Still, he managed to be ready only five minutes after I was hoping to leave. When we got to the Chapel he actually found a couple of other Pacific Oaks students to hang out with while I went to my Bible cla.s.s.

I sat with the usual suspects in Sunday school. Most of them belonged to Christian Friends. I was a little surprised to see Tracy Collins slip into the room just before cla.s.s started. If she saw Dot motion for her to come sit by us, she ignored it. Instead she slid into an empty chair in the back of the room. I don't think she said a word the entire hour, but she was there and I hoped she'd gotten something out of the cla.s.s. If anybody could use the comfort of Scripture right now it had to be Tracy.

She was still in the room when cla.s.s broke up, and Dot went over to say h.e.l.lo. I followed her, not sure whether I should say anything or not. I didn't have to worry; Dot did most of the talking and I was free to stand there and keep them company.

”I guess you've heard the latest,” Tracy told her. ”The police say Frank was definitely shot with one of his own guns. I told him more than once he shouldn't keep that thing in the cab of the truck. But my advice wasn't something he listened to on anything else. Why should this have been different?” There were circles under her eyes dark as bruises. I wondered if she'd slept since the funeral.

”I knew that much,” Dot admitted. ”That detective working the case, Ray Fernandez, has been out to ask me questions more than once. He was at the house yesterday to show me pictures and have me see if I knew any of the men in them. Apparently most of them were on one or another of the crews that worked with Frank.”

”Yeah, that same detective told me they were trying to narrow down suspects because there were other prints on the gun besides Frank's. But I told him what I've been telling everybody else, that there were so many people that Frank owed money to or had cheated one way or another in business that I could give him the names of about fifteen suspects.”

Dot's eyebrows raised. ”That many? How?”

Tracy's shoulders sagged. ”It's like a broken record on the phone messages, with people telling me how much money they need from me by next week. And Frank's books are so sloppy I can't tell what he really paid anybody and what he was trying to lie his way out of paying. How we will keep the house is going to be anybody's guess.”

Dot patted her on the shoulder. ”You know, we've got several people here at the Chapel who are good accountants. They offer their services to members in trouble sometimes. I'd say you definitely qualify. Maybe you could call Pastor George and ask him to link you up with somebody.”

Tracy seemed to perk up for the first time. ”That sounds like a good idea. I can't afford to pay a good accountant, or even a mediocre one. Even though I've done lots of bookkeeping this mess is beyond me. There are so many other things to sort through and settle that I could spend all my time on other problems anyway.”

”Besides the bookkeeping, what's the worst of your worries? I'll check tonight with my Christian Friends group. Maybe we could help you out.” I almost nudged Dot in the ribs to tell her not to get us involved in more than we could handle. But then, considering what the Christian Friends had done for me, and for Heather, maybe they could handle just about anything.

Tracy sighed again. ”Probably the worst of it otherwise is Frankie. He's staying out until all hours and I know he's cutting cla.s.ses during the daytime. At thirteen he won't listen to me, and when he does come home he spends all his time at his computer. I know this is hard for him to handle, but I don't need more problems right now on top of what I've got.”

”I hate to sound s.e.xist, but this sounds more like a job for a man, maybe. Do you think Frankie could handle some of the ch.o.r.es around the kennels at our place? I know Buck could use a hand, and he's willing to pay for the help. It might give Frankie some incentive to shape up.” Dot smiled faintly. ”I know if he works at the kennels very long it will tire him out enough that he won't have much energy to stay out late.”

Tracy's answering smile was even fainter than Dot's, but it was there nonetheless. ”I'll work on him. It might not sound good to him at first, but he knows we could use the money. Even if I let him keep everything he earned it would probably come in handy because I wouldn't have to give him money for school and things he thinks he has to have. Thanks, Dot.”

”Anything that I can do to help I will. I'll let Buck know what I've gotten him into so he will be ready to talk to Frankie.” They chatted a little while longer about the best times during the week for Tracy to bring her son over, and I drifted toward the door to avoid eavesdropping on any more of their private conversation.

Dot caught up with me a few minutes later near the coffee urn in the fellows.h.i.+p hall. ”Sorry if I seem to be giving away some of your hours around the kennel, but I figured you wouldn't mind terribly.”

”Especially not for the next week while I've got finals,” I told her. ”Besides, I know Tracy could use the help with Frankie, and the money, far more than I need it.”

”You're right there. I know you need it, too, Gracie Lee, but I figure one of these days Dennis's probate case will work its way through the courts and maybe you'll get back what he owed you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. ”To tell you the truth, Dot, it's not something I'm counting on anytime soon. Someday, perhaps. It would certainly provide more of a cus.h.i.+on for me and for Ben while I finish school.”

”True. But even if we cut your hours around the kennel, you know that you'll have cheap rent as long as you need it.”

I was so touched by Dot's words I teared up a little. Making a go of it as a single mom has never been easy, and right now with a limited income and not much to fall back on, it's more of a challenge than ever. I'd gotten Dennis's insurance company to settle a portion of his small life insurance policy. He'd named his mom as beneficiary, but then she died shortly after he did. With Lexy's help as an attorney, I'd convinced the insurance company that I was ent.i.tled to some of the proceeds of that policy. Right now that money was about all I had to fall back on when I needed it.

Getting the thirty thousand dollars that Dennis had bilked me out of would be enough to tide me over without worries until I finished my degree and got a counseling position somewhere. But so far I'd done all right trusting that G.o.d would keep things together. I knew it would be fine as long as I didn't make any stupid decisions. I could hardly believe that Dot and Buck cutting my hours back a little each week was against G.o.d's plan if it helped Tracy and her family.

Before I could think about it all anymore, Ben stood next to me in the fellows.h.i.+p hall. ”Come on, Mom. I want to get into services while the praise band is still playing. They're really good and I want to listen a while,” he said with more enthusiasm than I expected. I wondered if that meant there were cute girls in the praise band. I guess that makes me a cynical mom, but he's been a teenager long enough for me to understand his motives far more often than I'd like.

By the time evening rolled around and it was time for my Christian Friends meeting again I was plenty ready for the friendly adult companions.h.i.+p. Ben had studied all afternoon, and instead of joining him I'd gotten called in for a s.h.i.+ft at work.

Fernandez hadn't called or come over today; I didn't know whether to think that was a good thing or a bad thing. He wasn't asking Ben or me questions right now, but he hadn't made any other big announcements that I'd heard, either.

After filling in for another server all afternoon, I went straight to Conejo Community Chapel alone. I'd gotten used to a different routine all summer when I was only taking one cla.s.s and working shorter hours at the coffeeshop. Then Dot and I had driven to meetings together most of the time. Now it seemed like I drove around in the dark alone a lot. California might not be cold in the winter, but this area got dark just as early in the evening, or almost afternoon, as the Midwest did in December.

At least this time I wasn't coming empty-handed to the meeting. Once Maria found out where I was going, she insisted that I take an insulated-air pot full of fresh-brewed decaf with me. I certainly didn't argue with her, since I almost never took a turn at bringing anything for the snack tray. I'd caught Linnette via cell phone and told her not to make coffee.

Now I trudged through the church parking lot, noticing that one of the lights had burned out. It left a large corner of the parking area in the dark. Given the number of coyotes and even mountain lions sighted around the area I could have done without more shadows. I felt relief when I got to the door and went in.

The well-lit church hallway felt much safer than outside. Rational thought told me I was too big, tough and stringy to be coyote bait, but telling myself that didn't do anything to calm my overactive imagination in the dark. Being inside with lights around me was rea.s.suring. Given the time I knew the group started without me, so I sped up to get into the room.

As I expected, folks were already filling small plates with cookies and looking hopefully at the door for coffee to go with them. Paula waved and motioned me over to where things were set up. ”Finally, the coffee lady. And there's somebody here waiting especially for you.” She turned and tapped another woman on the shoulder. ”Tracy, you said to tell you when Gracie Lee got here.”

”Yeah, I did,” Tracy Collins said, turning toward me. In a split second all my feelings of safety evaporated as she charged past a surprised Paula and gave me a push to both shoulders that had me sitting on my posterior on the carpet, seeing a few stars. Maybe, I thought, I should have taken my chances with the coyotes instead of coming inside.

Needless to say, ma.s.s chaos erupted then. Voices were raised while Paula just stood there looking stunned. Dot and Linnette took charge of Tracy while Lexy got me up and as far away from the others as possible. Heather, who had been sitting in a chair with a blanket pulled over her and Corinna, stayed rooted to that spot, wide-eyed. In a moment there was a thin wail under the blanket where the baby obviously felt neglected. I felt like wailing along with her.

Dot and Linnette marched Tracy over to me a few minutes later. ”We don't tolerate verbal or physical attacks on anybody in this group,” Linnette said sternly as she looked at Tracy. ”I know Paula invited you here and as such probably should be responsible for you, but she didn't know the whole situation. If you want to stay, you need to make things right with Gracie Lee.”

Tracy started to sputter. ”Me make things right with her? She's the one who has come right up to me twice to talk to me about Frank and never told me that her own son was a suspect in his murder!” She glared at me. ”You were just pumping me for information to try and get your kid off the hook.”