Faithless

Sara took his hand as soon as Lena had left.

Jeffrey told her, “He was just sitting there drinking coffee.”

She looked into the room, then back at him. “Did you have any?”

He swallowed, feeling like he had glass in his throat. That was probably how it had started for Cole, a feeling in his throat. He had started coughing, then gagging, then the pain had ripped him nearly in two.

“Jeffrey?”

He could only shake his head.

Sara kept holding his hand. “You’re cold,” she told him.

“I’m a little upset.”

“You saw the whole thing?”

He nodded. “I just stood there, Sara. I just stood there watching him die.”

“There was nothing you could do,” she told him.

“Maybe there was-”

“It killed him too quickly,” she said. When he did not respond, she put her arms around him, holding him. She whispered, “It’s okay,” into his neck.

Jeffrey let his eyes close again, resting his head on her shoulder. Sara smelled like soap and lavender lotion and shampoo and everything clean. He inhaled deeply, needing her scent to wash away the death he had been breathing for the last thirty minutes.

“I have to talk to Terri Stanley,” he said. “The cyanide is the key. Lena didn’t-”

“Let’s go,” she interrupted.

He didn’t move at first. “Do you want to see-”

“I’ve seen enough,” she told him, tugging his hand to get him moving. “There’s nothing I can do right now. He’s a biohazard. Everything in there is.” She added, “You shouldn’t have even been in there. Did Lena touch anything?”

“There was a poster,” he said, then: “He had drugs hidden behind it.”

“He was using?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered. “He was offering them to other people, seeing if they would take it.”

The Catoogah County sheriff’s sedan pulled up, dust swirling in a cloud behind it. Jeffrey couldn’t see how the man had gotten here so quickly. Lena hadn’t even had time to drive to the sheriff’s office.

“What the hell is going on here?” Pelham demanded, jumping out of the car so fast he didn’t even bother to shut the door.

“There’s been a murder,” Jeffrey told him.

“And you just happened to be here?”

“Did you speak to my detective?”

“I passed her on the road and she waved me down. You better be goddamn glad I was already out this way.”

Jeffrey didn’t have the strength to tell him where he could stick his threat. He walked toward Sara’s car, wanting to get as far away from Cole Co

Pelham demanded, “You wa

“Leaving,” Jeffrey told him, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“You don’t walk away from me,” Pelham ordered. “Get the hell back here.”

“You go

Sara was right behind him. She told Pelham, “Ed, you might want to call in the GBI for this one.”

He puffed his chest out like an otter. “We can handle our own crime scenes, thank you very much.”

“I know you can,” she assured him, employing that sweetly polite tone she used when she was about to cut someone in two. “But as I suspect the man upstairs has been poisoned with cyanide, and as it only takes a concentration of three hundred parts per million of air to kill a human being, I would suggest you call in someone who might be better equipped to handle hazardous crime scenes.”

Pelham adjusted his gunbelt. “You figure it’s dangerous?”

Sara told him, “I don’t think Jim’s going to want to handle this one.” Jim Ellers was the Catoogah coroner. Now in his late sixties, he had owned one of the more successful funeral homes before he retired, but had kept the job as coroner for pocket money. He wasn’t a trained doctor, rather someone who didn’t mind performing autopsies to help pay his greens fees.

“Shit!” Pelham spat at the ground. “Do you know how much this is go

Jeffrey climbed into the car and Sara followed.

“What an ass,” she mumbled, starting the car.

He asked, “Give me a lift to the church?

“Sure,” she agreed, backing away from the barn. “Where’s your car?”

“I guess Lena ’s still in it.” He looked at his watch. “She should be here soon.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m going to need a stiff drink,” he told her.

“I’ll have it waiting when you get home.”

He smiled despite the circumstances. “I’m sorry I wasted your time bringing you out here.”

“It’s not a waste of time,” she told him, pulling up in front of a white building.

“This is the church?”

“Yes.”

He got out of the car, looking up at the small, unassuming structure. He told Sara, “I’ll be home later.”

She leaned over and squeezed his hand. “Be careful.”

He watched her pull away, waiting until he couldn’t see her car any longer before walking up the steps to the church. He thought about knocking but changed his mind, opening the door and entering the chapel.

The large room was empty, but Jeffrey could hear voices from the back. There was a door behind the pulpit, and this time he did knock.

Paul Ward answered the door, shock registering on his face. “Can I help you?”

He was blocking the doorway, but Jeffrey could see the family assembled at a long table behind him. Mary, Rachel and Esther were on one side while Paul, Ephraim and Lev were on the other. At the head of the table was an older man in a wheelchair. In front of him was a metal urn that probably contained Abby’s ashes.

Lev stood, telling Jeffrey, “Please come in.”

Paul took his time moving out of Jeffrey’s way, obviously not happy to have him in the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jeffrey began.

Esther asked, “Have you found something?”

Jeffrey told her, “There’s been a new development.” He went to the man in the wheelchair. “I don’t think we’ve met, Mr. Ward.”

The man’s mouth moved awkwardly, and he said something that Jeffrey took for “Thomas.”

“Thomas,” Jeffrey repeated. “I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances.”

Paul asked, “What circumstances?” and Jeffrey looked to the man’s brother.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Lev said defensively. “I gave you my word.”

“What word?” Paul demanded. “Lev, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Thomas made a calming motion with a shaking hand, but Paul told him, “Papa, this is serious. If I’m going to be counsel for the family, they need to listen to me.”

Surprisingly, Rachel barked, “You’re not in charge of us, Paul.”

“Paul,” Lev interceded. “Please sit down. I don’t think I’ve gotten myself into any trouble.”

Jeffrey wasn’t too sure about that, but he said, “Cole Co

There was a collective gasp around the room, and Jeffrey suddenly felt like he was in some kind of Agatha Christie story.

“My Lord,” Esther said, hand to her heart. “What happened?”

“He was poisoned.”

Esther looked at her husband, then to her oldest brother. “I don’t understand.”

“Poisoned?” Lev asked, sinking down into a chair. “What on earth?”

“I’m pretty sure it was cyanide,” Jeffrey told them. “The same cyanide that killed Abby.”

“But…” Esther began, shaking her head. “You said she suffocated.”

“Cyanide is an asphyxiant,” he told her, as if he hadn’t purposefully hidden the truth from them. “Someone probably put the salts in water and poured it down the pipe-”

“Pipe?” Mary asked. It was the first time she had spoken and Jeffrey saw that her face had turned milk white. “What pipe?”

“The pipe that was attached to the box,” he explained. “The cyanide reacted-”

“Box?” Mary echoed, as if this was the first time she had heard it. Maybe it was, Jeffrey thought. The other day she had run from the room when he’d started to explain what had happened to Abby. Perhaps the menfolk had kept this particular piece of news from her delicate ears.