In the Presence of Mine Enemies Page 3

  Jeremiah wiped the tears off his cheeks. He had learned years before how to cry on command. The tears were genuine, though. He still felt grief when he thought of Paul and the terrible way he had died. No matter who he was and what secrets he was hiding in the end he had given his life for others. No greater sacrifice could be asked of any man.

  Keenan leaned forward, looking like a shark getting ready to attack. “Paul was killed by a Barrett sniper rifle. It’s not something you come across outside of the military much. So, imagine my surprise when we searched your house this morning and we found one.”

  “What?” Jeremiah asked, not needing to feign surprise.

  “That’s right. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t. It’s not mine. I have no idea how it got there.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes, actually. If I’m the monster you think I am do you think I’d be stupid enough to leave a murder weapon like that just laying around my house?”

  “Guys that are used to getting away with everything get cocky and eventually they slip up.”

  Jeremiah shook his head. “Given that last week you wrongly accused a man who was being framed for murder don’t you think it’s possible it could happen again? For all we know this is all still connected to that mess.”

  “No!” Keenan snapped.

  Jeremiah knew he’d gotten under the man’s skin. The detective wasn’t one hundred percent confident that someone wasn’t also trying to frame him and that it could even be connected to the case he had so thoroughly botched. A case where he had categorically rejected his and Cindy’s help before they solved it anyway.

  “I don’t blame you for getting things wrong. On paper I’m sure that Leo looked guilty. Don’t let your own guilt over that push you to do something now.”

  Keenan stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over.

  “This is not guilt or retaliation!”

  There was a knock on the door a moment later and Keenan turned bright red. Mark walked in. “The captain wants to see you.”

  “We’re not done here,” Keenan snapped at Jeremiah before storming out.

  “You really think antagonizing him is the way to go?” Mark asked.

  “I’m not trying to antagonize him. I’m just trying to point out some facts and demonstrate that he might be operating under a strong set of emotions that are clouding his judgment.”

  Mark rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. Instead he said, “Cindy and her father came here to see you.”

  Jeremiah felt like a knife was twisting in his gut. “How is she?” he asked.

  “Upset. But she is a woman with a mission. She’s going to solve Ben’s murder.”

  “Good. How was Don?”

  “Supportive. Lucky for you.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling really lucky,” Jeremiah muttered.

  ~

  Cindy had the strongest feeling of déjà vu as she walked into her old house. “Thanks, Harold,” she told her former landlord.

  “I hope you find whoever did this,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the world is coming to that things like this happen.”

  “I know,” she said. “You’re the one who found him?”

  “Yes. He didn’t show up this morning for church and he wasn’t answering the house phone or his cell so several of us became concerned. I came in and… well, he was dead in the bedroom,” Harold said, choking up.

  Cindy put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said.

  Harold wiped his eyes. “I’ll never forget the look on his face and his eyes were just… empty.”

  She understood more than most and her heart broke for him. “Was the front door locked when you got here?”

  He shook his head. “It was unlocked. That made me suspicious.”

  “Was there anything else you noticed before finding him?”

  Harold shook his head and wiped his eyes again.

  “If you need to talk, I’m here,” she said.

  He nodded. “If you don’t mind, I don’t want to go in again. Just give me a call when you’re done, and I’ll come lock up.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Harold left, pulling the door closed behind him. Don pulled two sets of disposable gloves out of his pocket and they put them on. Don had to help her because of her broken arm.

  “Why is it every place I’ve lived it seems bad things happen?” she asked.

  “Are you up for this?” Don asked.

  She pulled herself together. She couldn’t fall apart. There was far too much on the line. It was just hard not to flashback to the things that had happened in this house when she had lived there. “Yes. You?”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” her father said with a wry smile.

  “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Wouldn’t miss my chance to see my amazing daughter solve a crime in person.”

  She hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I have two amazing children and one of them doesn’t get nearly enough credit.”

  “That means a lot.”

  She let go of him and cleared her throat. “Okay. Let’s catch a killer.”

  They moved toward the bedroom. They both paused for a moment on the threshold and then stepped in.

  Cindy sucked in her breath sharply. It was like stepping back through time. The furniture was all there, just as it had been when she lived in the house. The knick-knacks were different, but the space was familiar.

  She grabbed hold of the dresser, grateful that she was wearing gloves. The biggest difference in the room was not the knick-knacks but the blood stain in the middle of the bed. In her mind she could see Ben lying there dead. She had been told that he had been stabbed and she couldn’t help but think about the dead man she had tripped over in the church a few years earlier. That had happened back when this was her house and her bed.

  She remembered her fear when an intruder had broken into her home to search it, looking for the Shepherd’s cross that he had lost at the scene of the crime. She also remembered Jeremiah going through her house to make sure there was no one in it when he had driven her home. She never would have guessed then where the two of them would have ended up. They had solved so many mysteries together and become each other’s world in the process.

  “You okay?” Don asked.

  “Flashbacks,” she said.

  He nodded as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

  “No evidence that there was a struggle, so he was likely asleep when he was stabbed,” Don said.

  “Harold said his eyes were open.”

  “Even if he was stabbed in the heart there would have been shock and a second where his eyes opened.”

  “That is really awful,” Cindy said.

  “Agreed. Did he have any enemies?”

  “None that I know of, but he’d been the pastor at First Shepherd for less than a year and I don’t know much about his life before he got here.”

  “Harold said the front door was unlocked.”

  “Someone must have picked the lock.”

  “Unless he was the type who never locked his door,” Don said.

  Cindy shook her head. “I remember hearing him warn a new parishioner who was from the Midwest that while Pine Springs was a safe town, they still needed to make sure they locked their doors at night. We should doublecheck the windows, though. We want to make sure the killer didn’t come in that way and then just leave out the front door.”

  They checked all the windows, but they were all locked from the inside. The second bedroom looked like it was being used for an office, which was just what Cindy had done with the space as well. What her father had asked about Ben having any enemies was going through her mind over and over.

  She realized that she really didn’t know all that much about Ben. At monthly staff meetings he d
idn’t talk a lot about his past. He spent most of his time talking about the future and his plans and goals for the church.

  His computer was on, but when she moved the mouse a screen with a login came up. She had no idea what his password might be. She began to look around at the other things in the room. She looked at the file cabinet briefly but soon dismissed it. She very much doubted that she’d find a file titled “Enemies”. He had a desk calendar on the far edge of the desk and she walked over to look at it. The page for the day before had been torn out already.

  She turned to leave the room when her eye caught a crumpled-up piece of paper far under the desk. She got down on the ground and stretched out her arm until she was able to reach it.

  “What did you find?” Don asked as he walked in the room.

  “I’m hoping it’s a page from his day calendar,” she said as she worked to smooth out the ball of paper. “It looks like it’s the right size to be.”

  When she had the paper smoothed out she gasped. It was indeed the page from the day before and on it he had only one note.

  J.S. 10 pm.

  She started to feel dizzy and the room swam around her.

  “What is it?” Don asked.

  Silently she handed him the paper. He read it over then looked sharply at her.

  “J.S.?”

  She nodded.

  “Jeremiah Silverman.”

  4

  Cindy felt sick. Her dad crouched down next to her. “The police didn’t find this,” he said.

  “Clearly not.”

  “Is there anyone else you know with the initials J.S.? Anyone who attends the church?”

  Cindy wracked her brain, trying to think. “I know several Js but I can’t think of any that have a last name that starts with S.”

  “We need to find out for sure.”

  “In the morning I can look it up in the church directory.”

  “You look pale. It’s getting pretty late and we missed dinner. I suggest that we get something to eat, then get some sleep, and tackle this fresh in the morning,” Don said.

  She wanted to argue with him. She didn’t want to do anything else until Jeremiah was cleared. She saw the wisdom in his suggestion, though. She couldn’t help clear Jeremiah if she was so hungry and tired she couldn’t think straight. She was still dizzy even after the initial shock of seeing his initials on the calendar page had passed.

  “Who schedules an appointment for ten at night?” she asked.

  “And on a Saturday no less. It’s not like a pastor would need to be up early on Sunday,” Don said drily.

  Cindy tried to stand up and the room tilted around her.

  “Whoa, you okay?” her dad asked, grabbing her elbow and steadying her.

  She managed to get all the way to her feet. The room was still spinning, but not quite as badly.

  “I think you’re right. Food and sleep is the right choice. Just not the easy one,” she said.

  “I know. Call Harold and let’s get out of here.”

  Cindy did and a minute later they were in the car heading back to Joseph’s. They turned onto the street where the church and the synagogue were, and a sudden thought occurred to her. She needed to let Marie know what had happened. She didn’t know her home number, but she remembered where she lived.

  “I need to go let Jeremiah’s secretary know what’s happened, so she can handle things at the synagogue,” Cindy said. “Turn right at the next light.”

  “So, she’s the Jewish you?” her father asked, his tone light.

  “I’m not sure she’d appreciate the comparison,” Cindy said. “But she handles most of the daily business of the synagogue.”

  “So, the Jewish you.”

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t have Geanie to help her.”

  “I really like Geanie. And Joseph.”

  “So do I. They have been great. They’re always there for us.”

  “It’s good to have friends like that in your life.”

  “Yes, it is. Turn right at the stop sign.”

  A couple of minutes later they arrived at Marie’s house. Don parked at the curb.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?” he asked.

  “No, that’s okay,” she said.

  She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation and she kept imagining how Marie was going to react. Her feet felt like they were made of lead as she walked up to the front door. She rang the doorbell and waited, her misery mounting by the second.

  Marie finally opened the door, a surprised look on her face. “Cindy, what are you doing here?”

  “I need to let you know what’s going on.”

  Marie glanced behind her and then stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, lowering her voice.

  “Two things. First, our head pastor, Ben, was murdered last night.”

  Marie’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. “What? Who did it?”

  “That’s the second thing. They’re accusing Jeremiah. The police arrested him.”

  Cindy expected anger, outrage, denial, fear, and disbelief from Marie. Instead the other woman became very still, her expression unreadable. After a moment Marie took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest. She dropped her eyes.

  “Did he do it?” Marie asked quietly.

  Cindy stared at her in shock. “Of course not! How can you even ask me that?”

  Marie looked up, her expression guarded. “I’m not an idiot. When he came to the synagogue, I was warned that he might need some looking after, some help integrating socially. I was given a number to call if he… if he couldn’t… adapt. I didn’t ask then. I’ve never asked. I don’t want to know the details. I think it’s better for everyone if I don’t. But I have a pretty good idea what he’s capable of, and I know that your pastor tried to get between you and Jeremiah.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Marie shook her head. “Don’t say anything except for answering my question. It won’t change what I do or how I act, but I need to know for my own sake.”

  “He didn’t kill Ben,” Cindy said. “And I’m going to find whoever did.”

  Marie nodded. “Good. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. I’ll spin things at the synagogue as long as I can. Hopefully, he’ll be cleared before anyone knows that he’s more than just a witness.”

  Cindy reached out and hugged Marie. After a moment the other woman hugged her back. “I can’t lose him,” Cindy said, her voice breaking.

  “I know,” Marie said, stroking her back. “You won’t. It will all work out. God has a plan and has brought you two together against all odds. He will not fail you now.”

  Cindy put her head down on Marie’s shoulder as a sob escaped her. “You can do this,” Marie whispered. “You are not alone. Make sure he knows that he isn’t either.”

  “I will,” Cindy said, straightening up.

  Marie nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Marie said, her voice unsteady. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a rough day for everyone.”

  “You, too.”

  Cindy turned and went back to the car. She dashed away her tears once she was inside.

  “You okay?” her dad asked.

  “Sometimes she surprises me,” Cindy said.

  “She’ll handle things at the synagogue?”

  “Yes, and she’ll try to keep everything as much under wraps as she can.”

  “That’s a blessing.”

  “She runs that place like a field general.”

  “That’s good considering that come morning you’ll all be under siege.”

  “I can’t even think about work,” Cindy said.

  “Unfortunately, you’re going to have to. Your coworkers are going to need you, and the parishioners are going to need all of you.”

  Cindy knew he was right
, but she couldn’t even imagine how she was going to be able to do anything until Jeremiah was freed.

  “You and mom and Kyle should go home,” she said.

  “I’ll see about sending them home, but I’m staying until this is done. You might need an outside perspective on some things.”

  “I can’t ask you to go through this.”

  “You’re not. I’m volunteering, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

  ~

  Mark’s anxiety and anger had given way to exhaustion. He was at his desk pouring over the files Keenan had compiled, looking for all the chinks in his case. To his relief he discovered that Keenan had no more on the terrorist at Joseph and Geanie’s wedding than had been in Mark’s report. That meant that of the one murder Jeremiah actually had committed there was nothing but purely circumstantial evidence. Keenan was using it, though, to try and show a pattern of Jeremiah killing to protect himself or his interests. He still hadn’t put together that the terrorist had nothing to do with the crazy woman who had been trying to sabotage Joseph’s wedding to another woman.

  His notes on the homeless man who was murdered and died on Jeremiah’s lawn were a bit more extensive as they included observations and suspicions that Not Paul had written down during the investigation. Although forensics had proven that the man was shot elsewhere and staggered quite a distance to where he died, Not Paul had still speculated that it was no accident that he had died on Jeremiah’s lawn. He had concluded that the man knew Jeremiah in some way and that Jeremiah was lying about not knowing him.

  That was true. Jeremiah had told Mark that he had known the man back when they were both spies overseas. That was, of course, something Jeremiah couldn’t and wouldn’t have admitted back when the body was found. Mark had also deduced from a later investigation that the man had been on his way to tell Jeremiah about what he’d witnessed in regard to the Iranian student’s murder. All of that had tied into international terrorism and the events that had transpired in Jerusalem with Cindy and Jeremiah. Despite Not Paul’s suspicions, there was nothing to hang Jeremiah with in that case either.

  So far the only thing that he saw that connected Jeremiah to Ben was the fact that they knew each other, and that Ben had been vocally opposed to Jeremiah and Cindy getting married. The missing time in Joseph’s surveillance system was suspicious, but not enough to convict Jeremiah with.