Chapter
Thirty-Seven

Linda woke up and stared at the phone on her nightstand. It was Leon calling. He’d left early for the office, and she’d gone back to bed for a bit. She glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. She hadn’t meant to sleep for so long. She and her friends from church had worked hard to clean Fred’s house yesterday, and her joints let her know they didn’t appreciate it. When they left, Fred had hugged each one of them. He’d seemed so happy and appreciative of everything they’d done. Linda had gotten a ride home with one of her friends since Leon and Fred wanted to talk a while longer. Leon got home late, and she knew he was tired. She’d be glad when he retired so he could get some rest.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice still full of sleep.

“Good morning,” he said.

Immediately she could tell something was wrong. “Has something happened?”

“Yeah. Called to check on Fred this morning, but he didn’t answer his phone. I’m at his place now. He passed away last night sometime after we left.”

“Oh, Leon. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“At least he was happy. And we talked about the Lord after you left. He prayed for salvation, Linda. I know he’s in heaven.”

“I’m so glad you were able to befriend him, honey. I don’t think he had a lot of happy days. Thanks to you, he has an eternity of them ahead of him.”

“Just grateful to God that He directed me to Fred.” Leon sighed. “No one to take care of him now. Can you call the church? See if they can take up a collection to pay for his funeral costs?”

“Sure. I’ll do that as soon as we hang up. Call me later. It’ll be okay.” Linda paused before saying good-bye. “I love you, Leon. And I’m proud of you.”

She put down the phone and flopped back down on the bed. As sad as she was that Fred had left them, last night a wounded soul had found his way home. And that was cause for celebration.

Batterson hung up the phone after talking to Tony. He’d already spent three days in Shelter Cove after Gerard and the new apprentice had been killed. Now he was asking for even more time off. Although Batterson was happy to give it to him, especially since he had accrued several months’ vacation, he was still concerned about Tony’s feelings for Kate O’Brien. Being thrust together in the middle of danger could bind people together—but it didn’t necessarily mean their feelings were real. Batterson couldn’t warn him about being involved with a witness because things had changed. O’Brien’s attacker was dead, and she’d left the program. The way was clear for Tony. Batterson had no plans to interfere. All he could do was hope Tony knew what he was doing. Frankly, Batterson was just happy his deputy and his witness had survived one of the strangest cases he’d faced since he’d joined the U.S. Marshals. He wanted to believe that the Blue-Eyed Killer case was over. But as long as Darrell Fisher was alive, they’d never be able to close the file.

Kate and Tony sat on Kate’s front porch swing, enjoying the spring weather. A light breeze wafted past them, carrying the aroma of the honeysuckle that bloomed all over town. Most of the authorities had left, and Shelter Cove was returning to normal.

Warren was recovering in the hospital and had graciously allowed Tony to stay in his house. Since he didn’t live far from Kate, it was working out really well.

“So what happens now?” Tony asked.

“Well, I was thinking it was time for me to go back to St. Louis.”

Tony was surprised. “I thought you liked it here.”

“I do. It’s a safe place to hide. Or it was, anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kate sighed. “I felt shielded from Alan Gerard. From the Blue-Eyed Killer. But I wasn’t. Darrell was here, and Gerard was able to find me, too. I guess I’ve realized that real safety isn’t a place you are. It’s being held in God’s arms. Protected by His love. And I can have that anywhere.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. “Thank you for being honest with me. I know I fought you when you first came here. I couldn’t deal with my anger and my pain, so I tried to ignore it. I really thought I was dealing with things the only way I could. But you taught me that running away and hiding wasn’t the answer. It hurt to confront the darkness, but it was the only way to let God’s light dispel it.” She turned her head and gazed into his eyes. “I know it might take some time for me to become completely whole again, but at least I’m on my way.”

“There’s a therapist in St. Louis who might be able to help you,” Tony said. “I hear she’s pretty good. I could introduce you.”

“I’d like that.”

“You know that the authorities will never stop looking for Darrell Fisher, right? Eventually they’ll catch him.”

“I hope so, but I’m determined not to give him any more space in my life. He’s stolen enough.”

“I agree,” Tony said. “So what happens to the café?”

“Remember the woman I told you about? The one who covered for me when you came over for dinner?”

Tony nodded.

“She wants to buy it. And she’ll pay me enough money so I can get a place to live in St. Louis and not worry about money for a while.”

Tony laughed. “So you’re planning to be a lady of leisure?”

Kate chuckled. “No. I think I’d like to go back to school. When I first enrolled, I wanted to be a teacher because . . . well, because I couldn’t think of anything else. But over the past few years, I’ve thought about it a lot. I think I’d really enjoy working with young people. People like Darrell . . . Maybe if he’d had stronger positive influences when he was a kid, he might have become something else. I know a lot of children have tough lives. I can’t be their parent, but maybe I can be someone they could come to for help.” She smiled at him. “You spend your life dealing with people who turned out badly. Maybe I could catch some of them before you do.”

Tony smiled back at her. “I think that sounds wonderful. You’ll be a great teacher.”

“Thanks. I’ll get things squared away here, and then I’ll come up to St. Louis,” she said. “Then we’ll talk.”

“About?”

“About a lot of things.” She reached over and took Tony’s hand. Her touch was like electricity. “I’m no longer a witness,” she said. “I’m Kate O’Brien again. Whoever she is. But this time, she’s going to be stronger.”

“You’ve always been strong.”

“Trying to take your life isn’t strength,” she said quietly.

“But it isn’t weakness, either,” he replied. “It’s just a strong person who’s grown tired. And that’s not a crime. It’s just finding yourself in a place where you need help.”

Kate nodded, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I like that. Thank you. And help came. You came. And you pointed me toward God. There’s nothing better you could have done for me. He and I are working it out. Day by day.”

“Breath by breath,” Tony said tenderly. Even though he hadn’t planned to do it, he leaned over and kissed her. When he pulled away, her incredible eyes were looking into his. He took a deep breath. “I love you,” he said gently.

Kate reached up and rested her hand on his face. “Took you long enough,” she said with a smile.

It had only taken a few days to plan Fred’s funeral. He didn’t have any family, and very few people in Garden City knew him. Leon stopped by the small funeral home the church had picked to handle the details. When Leon went into the office, the director of the mortuary frowned at him.

“I thought you wanted us to handle Mr. Fisher’s service,” he said.

Leon nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” The director, a rotund man named Horace, was obviously upset. His broad face was red with emotion. “Callahan’s came by and picked up the body. Said they were in charge.”

Leon shook his head. “For crying out loud. That’s not right. How could they get that idea?”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know, but you need to talk to them. I can’t do anything without the body.”

Leon said good-bye and left, driving straight over to Callahan’s, the most prestigious and costly funeral home in town. He got out of his car and hurried inside. Marsha Weaver, daughter of the owner, greeted him when he came in the door.

“Marsha, I arranged for Fred Fisher’s service to be handled by Peaceful Hills Mortuary. They told me you picked up his body. What’s going on?”

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” she said. “I think I can explain everything.”

Leon followed her down the hall and through a large wooden door into an office the people at Peaceful Hills would envy. Dark wood furniture, polished wood floors, deep plush chairs. There was no way Leon’s small church could afford this place.

“Have a seat,” Marsha said, gesturing toward an overstuffed chair in front of her desk.

With a sigh, Leon sat down.

“Let me look up the details about Fred’s service.” She riffled through some papers until she removed one from a large file. “Here it is. I remember what happened, but I wanted to make sure of my facts.”

“I know the facts,” Leon said. “I contacted Peaceful Hills myself. Fred’s service was to be conducted there. My church is paying for everything, and unfortunately we can’t afford your fees.”

Marsha looked over her glasses at Leon. “I don’t know why you’d want to pay for a service that’s already been covered.”

“I . . . I don’t understand. Fred was alone. Who would pay this much for his funeral?”

“I wasn’t in the office at the time, but our receptionist said a man came by and purchased our deluxe package. Paid cash.”

“What was his name?” Leon asked.

“All I have here is . . . Bobby.” She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “Do you know this man?”

“No. No, I don’t. But as long as the money’s good, that’s the important thing, I guess.”

“Yes, it’s good.”

“When will the service be held?”

Marsha smiled at him. “Well, that will be up to you. You’re listed as the person to contact for details.”

Leon gulped. “Are . . . are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s right here. Contact Sergeant Leon Shook.”

Leon stood up, feeling a little shaky. Who was Bobby? Fred had no living relatives. When Leon had contacted Tally to tell him Fred had passed away, he’d shared his findings about Darrell. That he’d been dead for years. So who was behind the payment? Leon had a feeling he didn’t want to know the answer to that question. He definitely had no intention of telling Linda the truth. He’d let her believe some generous Garden City resident had picked up the cost of the service.

“I’ll get back to you, Marsha. Okay?”

“Sure, Sergeant. We’ll wait to hear from you.”

Leon walked out of the building into a bright spring day. Maybe it was enough to know that Fred would have a great funeral with all the typical pomp and circumstance. Perhaps at this point it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. He got into his patrol car and drove back to the station.