Read Online Blood of the Lamb by Michael Lister - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Lister
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Pete asked in surprise, his eyebrows and glasses shooting up again.
He looked over at me.
“Yeah,” Coel said. “He must’ve stopped by after his class, on his way out or somethin’. He didn’t stay too long.”
“What the hell was he doin’ there?” Pete asked.
Coel shrugged.
“I wondered the same thing,” I said. “As far as I know, he’s never been in the chapel before. And he was in a big hurry to get out. He nearly knocked me down on his way to the door.”
“He didn’t stay long,” Coel repeated. “At least, I don’t think he did. I didn’t actually see him leave.”
“Could he have killed her?” Fortner asked.
I shrugged. “We’ve got to talk to him. He was coming from the back when I saw him.”
“I never saw him close to your office door,” Coel said.
“And Officer Whitfield came in at the end,” I said.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said. “I forgot. He got back just in time for the… well, you know.”
“So,” Pete said, “you got any idea who did it?”
“No,” he said, “but Stone might as well have. He’s the one who tied her to a stake like bait down there with all the predators.”
C HAPTER 11
When Edward Stone welcomed me into his office, something he had never done, he closed the door, something he had often done. He then invited me to take a seat and offered me coffee, something he never did, and when I declined, he frowned deeply, something he often did.
“I assume your father and Inspector Fortner have both asked for your help,” he said.
I didn’t respond. He had warned me not to investigate after the last case I had worked.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m about to do the same thing. We need your help on this one. You’re a good investigator, you have a unique position that allows you to move about between both the inmates and the staff comfortably, and you are respected by both groups.”
“What was she doing in here?” I asked, my voice raw and accusatory. “How could you have let her? Why would the people who’re supposed to be her parents even want to—”
“They weren’t supposed to be her parents,” he said. “They were her parents. She was loved and cared for by—”
“People who used her race to further their cause? People who subjected her to the fatal dangers of prison to gain greater acceptance from the large black population?”
He shook his head. “You of all people should understand ministry,” he said. “You do anything for God.”
“For God?” I asked in shock. “Bobby Earl’s ego is his God.”
He winced, the furrow between his eyes deepening into dark crevices, and I could tell that my words had seemed blasphemous to him.
“Bobby Earl serves the same God I do,” he said. “And there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for him.”
“Including offering up your child?” I asked.
I knew it was a low blow before I said it, but I didn’t realize how low I was for saying it until I saw the anguish in his eyes. Though I was unaware of any of the details, I knew he had lost a son as a child and I wanted to wound him for what he—what I—had allowed to happen to Nicole. The outrage I felt at his culpability in Nicole’s death filled me with a self-righteous indignation that made me thoughtless and cruel, and, gripped by a familiar guilt, I cringed to come face to face with the man I had so often told myself I no longer was.
He took a deep breath and sat more upright in his chair. As he straightened the vest of his dark suit, the bony fingers of his hands shook. He always wore a three-piece suit, and I had never seen him take off his coat. His suits weren’t expensive or particularly nice, but they didn’t have to be. The way he held himself, the way they fit him, made them look as though they were—at least until today. Today his suit looked cheap and ill-fitted for his narrow frame, as if in the course of one night he had shrunk somehow.
“Why not?” he asked. “Abraham did.”
“God wasn’t
He looked over at me.
“Yeah,” Coel said. “He must’ve stopped by after his class, on his way out or somethin’. He didn’t stay too long.”
“What the hell was he doin’ there?” Pete asked.
Coel shrugged.
“I wondered the same thing,” I said. “As far as I know, he’s never been in the chapel before. And he was in a big hurry to get out. He nearly knocked me down on his way to the door.”
“He didn’t stay long,” Coel repeated. “At least, I don’t think he did. I didn’t actually see him leave.”
“Could he have killed her?” Fortner asked.
I shrugged. “We’ve got to talk to him. He was coming from the back when I saw him.”
“I never saw him close to your office door,” Coel said.
“And Officer Whitfield came in at the end,” I said.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said. “I forgot. He got back just in time for the… well, you know.”
“So,” Pete said, “you got any idea who did it?”
“No,” he said, “but Stone might as well have. He’s the one who tied her to a stake like bait down there with all the predators.”
C HAPTER 11
When Edward Stone welcomed me into his office, something he had never done, he closed the door, something he had often done. He then invited me to take a seat and offered me coffee, something he never did, and when I declined, he frowned deeply, something he often did.
“I assume your father and Inspector Fortner have both asked for your help,” he said.
I didn’t respond. He had warned me not to investigate after the last case I had worked.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m about to do the same thing. We need your help on this one. You’re a good investigator, you have a unique position that allows you to move about between both the inmates and the staff comfortably, and you are respected by both groups.”
“What was she doing in here?” I asked, my voice raw and accusatory. “How could you have let her? Why would the people who’re supposed to be her parents even want to—”
“They weren’t supposed to be her parents,” he said. “They were her parents. She was loved and cared for by—”
“People who used her race to further their cause? People who subjected her to the fatal dangers of prison to gain greater acceptance from the large black population?”
He shook his head. “You of all people should understand ministry,” he said. “You do anything for God.”
“For God?” I asked in shock. “Bobby Earl’s ego is his God.”
He winced, the furrow between his eyes deepening into dark crevices, and I could tell that my words had seemed blasphemous to him.
“Bobby Earl serves the same God I do,” he said. “And there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for him.”
“Including offering up your child?” I asked.
I knew it was a low blow before I said it, but I didn’t realize how low I was for saying it until I saw the anguish in his eyes. Though I was unaware of any of the details, I knew he had lost a son as a child and I wanted to wound him for what he—what I—had allowed to happen to Nicole. The outrage I felt at his culpability in Nicole’s death filled me with a self-righteous indignation that made me thoughtless and cruel, and, gripped by a familiar guilt, I cringed to come face to face with the man I had so often told myself I no longer was.
He took a deep breath and sat more upright in his chair. As he straightened the vest of his dark suit, the bony fingers of his hands shook. He always wore a three-piece suit, and I had never seen him take off his coat. His suits weren’t expensive or particularly nice, but they didn’t have to be. The way he held himself, the way they fit him, made them look as though they were—at least until today. Today his suit looked cheap and ill-fitted for his narrow frame, as if in the course of one night he had shrunk somehow.
“Why not?” he asked. “Abraham did.”
“God wasn’t
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