Caleb looked away and shook his head.
“I have to see about this body. It can’t wait. I’m sorry.”
Her shoulder and elbow dipped back, like she was winding up to punch him, but then all the color and emotion drained from her face and her arms went limp. Nothing she could do to him would bring Charlie back. Again, she felt a void, as if she had been cored.
As Kit drove away from the station, everything behind her turned to black. All this time, fending for herself, and the one time she needed help from the guy whose job was to help people, he said no. This was exactly why she had never opened up, or told anyone about Manny or any of it, because she was rightly convinced that no one would listen. She could only press on. She sped over to Doc’s and pushed down the hope that Charlie would be standing there when she threw open the door. Before she was out of the truck, Doc had run out to greet her.
“Just got off the phone there,” Doc said all out of breath. “A girl’s dead.”
“I heard,” Kit said. “Did they say who?” She was hanging on to what Judd had said, that the dead girl wasn’t Charlie. Doc caught her look and shook her head and waved her hands like she was clearing away cobwebs. “Don’t you go there, sha, it’s not your Charlie, not a chance. Listen, there’s a town meeting at Friends of Jesus in a half hour,” Doc said and slapped the hood of Kit’s truck. “For now, we keep looking. We stick together, okay? And then we stop by the church, see who knows what.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
When Kit and Doc arrived at Friends of Jesus, the sun stretched long and low and lit up the church like fire. Doc went for the door but Kit held her back.
“Wait, Doc. I don’t wanna go in there yet,” she said. “Let’s just listen for a minute.” She rested her arms on the sill of a small stained glass window of a dove holding an olive branch against a blue sky. The window was open wide to let in the late afternoon air.
Inside, Pastor Tom walked up and down the aisle, shushing the anxious crowd that was gathered there until he stood behind the pulpit and waved his hands about his head.
“Quiet! Everybody, hush!”
The citizens of Pecan Hollow settled into their seats, finished their sentences, and turned toward the front.
“I have called everyone here today to address what has happened, to discuss the death of one of our girls. We’ve just learned they were able to identify the body as Miss Sandy Blanchet.” He paused as people let out cries, some of horror, some of relief. “And to pray her soul makes its way to God.” He smoothed a damp strand away from his temple.
Sandy. Kit held her heart as if to slow its beating. Doc crossed herself and kissed her amulet. There was a frenzy of concern from the crowd.
Vernon Brewster, an old cattle rancher, stood up and set his hat on the pew. A palsy rattled his hands, which he then clasped behind his back. “What was the . . . nature of the crime?”
Pastor Tom shuddered. “The police are not discussing details,” he said. “But I am told it was a most disturbing scene.”
There were gasps and then a sober pause as the information sank in.
“I mean this in the best way possible,” said Beulah Baker, lifting a finger. “And I’m not saying she deserved it, but I think Sandy lived in a world of sin and you know—”
“Oh shut up, Beulah,” said Dorelle Chapman. “You’re a sinner like the worst of us. You’re a flirt and a gossip. Why don’t you just leave that poor girl alone?”
Beulah gaped dramatically and tightened the floral kerchief around her neck.
Tilly Warner, who was sitting behind Beulah, lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Here comes my two cents: I never did like the way that Kit Walker came into town all those years ago, all stealthy and whatnot, and just squatted at old Miss Eleanor’s, God rest her soul. I didn’t like it one bit. And then—what was it—just a few months later? Eleanor winds up dead?”
Pastor Tom held up a hand of moderation. “Now, Tilly, you know Eleanor had heart troubles. Coroner confirmed it was heart failure.”
Tilly closed her eyes and set her face like she wasn’t changing her mind. “I’m just sayin’ is all.”
“What are the police doing about it? What am I supposed to do with my kids?” asked Gail Peters, who had a child on each knee and one in a stroller to her right.
“I spoke to Officer Nabors just now. He’s enforcing a curfew of nine p.m. Anyone out after that will be arrested. Now, this may be a wanderer, but we cannot rule out the possibility that the evildoer . . . that Satan is guiding the hand of someone among us. That his pawn is here in town. Maybe even here in this room.”
The crowd fell silent and heads turned left and right in tense assessment.
Kit felt a thunderclap of panic in her chest as her suspicion grew more certain. Manny had slathered his charm all over the town. He had been running around with Sandy, no doubt stringing her along. He had played nice with the church people, wormed his way in with Charlie. She had to say it out loud or it would make her ill.
“Doc,” she said softly. Doc’s attention was fixed on the meeting inside. Kit tugged on her arm and she turned to Kit.
“What is it?” she said.
“Doc, I think it was Manny. It was him that killed Sandy. It was him that—” She choked on the words that would follow. Doc gathered her up and patted her back, like she could slap out the bad.
“Hush, now. Don’t you go there, hear me? Don’t let that despair come near. We got one thing to do and it’s find your Charlie.” She let Kit go and pointed inside the church. “Now let’s get in there and see what we can learn.”
Pastor Tom’s voice boomed. “Now, I want everyone to cooperate with the investigation and to report anything suspicious, even if it’s someone you know.”
“Well, I’d feel pretty suspicious of anyone who’s not here right now, if you want my opinion,” said Glennis Purdue, who ran a hair salon out of her kitchen. Reflexively she pulled a cigarette out of its pack and held it to her lips, then stuffed it back and clasped her purse primly.
Beulah piped up again. “Let’s not forget that Charlie Walker stabbed Leigh Prentiss in the face like a psycho.” Some nodded, others stayed silent. “And you know what else I heard? After she did it, she just laughed and laughed.” Beulah pressed a manicured finger to her lips as if holding in a dangerous secret. “I hate to say it, but you know, violence begets violence.”
Principal Fowler grunted in agreement.
Kit pushed away from the window and stalked out across the lawn. Doc followed.