Page 6

Dominic shook Sam’s hand and climbed into the SUV. He’d checked all the fire alarms in the King’s mansion, and they had been in working order. They were hard-wired, so the batteries were for backup in case of a power outage. Celia assured him that their maintenance man replaced them regularly. They even kept a schedule that she shared with him. Plenty of extinguishers were scattered around, all with viable expiration dates. Their security system was state-of-the-art. It would take a determined criminal to attempt to breach the King’s household and start a blaze.

Dom waved at Phil as they exited the estate. Presley waited until they were on the highway before she spoke. “So, that was awkward when Sam arrived.”

“Yeah,” Dominic agreed. Sam was a notorious player. He’d slept with a good chunk of unattached and not-so-single ladies in town. “There’s no love lost in that union. It’s been over for a long time. Jessie leads her life, and Sam his.”

“That’s sad,” she murmured. Dominic agreed. He’d been trapped in an awful marriage, and it’d been challenging for all involved, most especially Gia. At least Sam and Jessie didn’t have children.

“Why do they stay together?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say appearances. They’re practically royalty around here. Jessie chairs several philanthropic committees, and Sam contributes to dozens of causes. They host a couple of fundraising galas each year.”

“Oh, yeah, Jessie invited me to one in a few days.”

Dominic wondered if Presley would still be in town, and if so, would she want to go with him?

“Oh, look, there’s Sam now.” Presley pointed to a billboard.

“There are a bunch around the area. His mug also graces the side of busses.”

“What was up with Jessie downing alcohol this early? She reeked of it when she entered the room.”

“It’s well-known but not talked about. She’s been pulled over a few times, but the cops escort her home, and that’s that.”

“Dominic, that’s not right,” Presley protested, sounding every bit the cop she’d once been. “She could kill someone.”

He glanced over at her. “You’re preaching to the choir. Sam donates heavily to police funds, so they look the other way.”

“That’s disgusting. Why doesn’t someone try to get her help?”

“That I can’t answer.”

“Do they have kids?”

“No.”

“Well, there is that, I suppose,” Presley said. “What do you know about Charmaine Dunn?”

“She’s Charmaine Wells now. She married Ezekiel, a minister. They have three children, and she’s super-religious.”

“That surprises me,” Presley murmured. “She was always the wildest one, getting the others in trouble. They usually had to rein her in.”

“She’s not like that anymore. A holier woman, you won’t find.”

#

Dominic parked in the empty lot of All God’s Children Church. The chapel itself was an unassuming red-brick building with little landscaping and even less curb appeal. If not for the soaring gold cross on the flat roof, Presley never would’ve known it was a house of worship.

“Charmaine and her family reside in the minister’s house across the parking lot from the church,” Dominic told her.

Presley walked beside him to the modest dwelling. A scattering of toys in the yard added the only color to the drab brick exterior. The grass was brown and ragged, and the house could use new windows and a new roof. Dominic rang the bell.

A heavyset woman with long white hair fastened into an old-fashioned bun on the top of her head appeared. Her face was pale and her cheeks flushed. She wore a white turtleneck, a long denim skirt that reached her sensible shoe-covered feet, and not a drop of makeup.

“Dominic, this is a surprise. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Charmaine.”

Presley stifled a gasp. This was Charmaine, the girl who’d glommed on makeup with a putty knife like it was going out of style and favored low-cut tops to showcase her Double D’s? Wow. Presley wouldn’t have recognized her in a hundred years.

“Bless you for saying so. Did you come to pray with us today?”

“No. We’re here to talk to you.”

Charmaine’s gaze moved to Presley, and there was no recognition there at all.

“Hello, Charmaine.”

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“You used to. I’m Presley Parrish.”

Charmaine shook her head. “I don’t know that name. Are you with the new family that moved to town two weeks ago?”

“No, I’m Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

Again, her head moved from side to side.

Presley gawked. Seriously? “Are you telling me you don’t remember Gwen? She was one of your best friends.” Still nothing from Charmaine. “You were both cheerleaders from first grade through high school. Cheerios.”

Charmaine’s brows narrowed before widening again, and she jerked as if shocked by a taser. She rushed to close the door. “I-I’ve put that part of my life behind me.”

Dominic placed a hand on the panel to stop it. “We need to talk to you, Charmaine. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Charmaine glanced behind her, her body trembling. “I-I don’t know. No, I can’t.”

“We won’t be long,” Presley assured her. “But we won’t leave until you listen to us.”

Charmaine’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. We can talk in the den.”

Presley glanced at Dominic and mouthed, “What was that?”

He shook his head and shrugged.

Charmaine led them into a room decorated with mismatched furniture, frayed throw rugs, and several religious figurines. A musty smell permeated the gloomy space. Charmaine bowed at a replica of Jesus, her lips moving in prayer. Presley caught only one phrase: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned .

Presley sat beside Dominic on a plaid couch and waited for Charmaine to finish. When she did, she genuflected and turned to them with hands clasped before her. “What can I help you with?”

“We’re here because of Margy Binder and Nancy Baker.”

Charmaine started to shake her head, but Presley wasn’t having it. She jumped to her feet. “Cut the act, Charmaine. I know you remember them. You were as close as sisters once. There is no way you just forget them.”

Charmaine’s mouth tightened. “As I said before, I’ve put that part of my life behind me.”

“You don’t care that your friends are dead?” She felt Dominic come up behind her. “Are you that cold and unfeeling?”

Charmaine flinched as if slapped, but Presley felt no remorse. The amnesia act was ridiculous.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Dominic stepped forward to speak, probably thinking Presley was close to slugging Charmaine. He wasn’t wrong.

“Charmaine, Margy Binder and Nancy Baker died a few days apart. They perished in fires.”

Charmaine trudged to a brown recliner and dropped like a rock. “I had no idea.”

Presley and Dominic retook their seats on the couch. “Charmaine—”

A young boy with dark-brown hair rushed into the room, cutting Presley off. “Momma, Momma, Ruthie took my truck.”

Charmaine dropped her arms. “Abraham, I’m busy. Talk it out with your sister. Remember, Jesus is watching you.”

The boy frowned and stomped out of the room. Charmaine waited until he was gone before turning to them.

“Margy and Nancy are truly gone?”

“I’m afraid so,” Presley confirmed.

This time, a young girl with brunette pigtails darted into the room. “Momma, Momma, Abraham pulled my hair.”

“Ruth, take your brothers and go read the Bible. Now,” she emphasized when the girl didn’t move. With a sullen glare, she left.

“I haven’t thought about Margy or Nancy in years. Jessie or Tamera, either.” She shuddered. “How horrible to die in flames, like those that ravage the evil souls banished to spend eternity roasting in the bonfire of Hades.”

Boy, she sure knew how to paint a picture.

“It’s the same way Gwen died,” Presley reminded her, and she flinched again.

“That was so long ago.”

“I thought you didn’t remember her.”

Charmaine’s head jerked up. “That part of my life is in the past.”

She had said that one too many times. Presley surged to her feet again. “How appalling that you tried to wipe it from your memory. I will never forget Gwen, nor do I want to. She was an incredible person who deserves to be remembered by those who loved her.”

A flush crept up Charmaine’s neck until even her scalp glowed red. “I pray every night that Jesus has accepted Gwen into Heaven.”

An overweight man with a long, shaggy brown beard entered the room. He wore a black suit jacket and pants with a white shirt. Charmaine visibly stiffened.

“Captain Bianchi, it’s good to see you,” the man said.

Dominic stood and shook his hand. “You too, Ezekiel.”

The man turned to Presley. “And who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Charmaine’s from when she was in high school, even if she doesn’t remember me.”

Once again, Charmaine flinched.

Ezekiel glanced at his wife and frowned. “She’s put that part of her life behind her.”

What the hell was this “putting her life behind her” spiel? They both seemed to have practiced the response. “Well, it’s coming back, whether or not she wants it to. Two of her former friends died this week.”

“That’s distressing, and I will say prayers for them during our next service.” He took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “What does that have to do with Charmaine?”

“We came to warn her to be careful. I believe that someone is targeting her group of friends.”

Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a police officer?”

“Yes.” She had been, so it wasn’t a lie. Thankfully, Dominic didn’t correct her.

“Well, we have Jesus on our side. He will watch out for Charmaine, and she’ll be fine.”

“Nevertheless, you should take precautions, like locking the chapel doors at night,” Dominic told him. “Don’t let in anyone you don’t know.”

Ezekiel shook his head. “I couldn’t do that. Too many poor souls come in to pray. I won’t turn them away. No one is a stranger in the eyes of God.”

“Will you at least let me check your fire alarms to ensure they are working correctly?”

“There is no need, Dominic. Our janitor keeps them up to date. Now, you both need to leave. You’ve upset my wife.”

Presley glanced at Charmaine, but she turned her head away.

“Charmaine, go lie down,” he ordered.

Before Presley could say a word, Charmaine jumped to her feet and hurried out of the room like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Presley shook her head. She couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye.

She and Dominic had done all they could. They’d warned Charmaine to be careful. The rest was up to her.

Presley looked for her as Ezekiel ushered them to the door, but there was no sign of her. One kid peeked at them from around a corner. When Presley waved, he darted out of sight.

Presley waited until they were inside Dominic’s SUV before saying, “That was odd.”

“It was.”

“Why would she pretend not to remember Gwen?”

Dominic started the engine. “I have no idea.”

“She’s frightened by her husband,” Presley concluded. She’d seen too many battered women during her police days. Charmaine displayed all the classic signs.

“He’s domineering,” Dominic agreed. “He keeps her on a short leash. She rarely leaves the church, even homeschools their kids.”

Presley shook her head. “I hope they heed our warning, at least for the sake of their children.”

“That’s all we can do.”

#

Charmaine Dunn eased back the curtain and watched Dominic and Presley return to their vehicle.

Presley Parrish.

The name was a blast from the past. Charmaine saw the way Ezekiel checked her out. He had an eye for pretty women. She’d been one once . . . at least, she liked to think she had been, but who knew? She’d buried that part of herself and hadn’t looked back.

A shudder wracked her body, thinking of her husband. What had she ever seen in him? Yes, he’d been handsome when they met, with wavy brown hair and brooding eyes, but he wasn’t anything special. She supposed she’d been looking to atone for her sins. She thought marrying a pious man would ease her conscious. Instead, she’d made a deal with the devil.

Charmaine didn’t want to see Ezekiel but knew he would storm inside her room any minute. She couldn’t bar the door. He’d removed the lock. Besides, if she hid from him, he would be even more brutal when she emerged. His usual means of discussion involved his fists, and she wasn’t up to being on the receiving end tonight. She felt too raw with the past crashing back into her life.

Ezekiel never missed an opportunity to tell her how mortified he was about the way she’d acted when she was younger. Yes, she’d been a wild child, living life to the fullest and having fun with her friends. She’d favored flashy clothes and makeup. Drank beer and flirted with all the boys. Ezekiel had been appalled and insisted that his wife be a pillar of the community, not a harlot, as he had called her more than once. Charmaine had bowed to his wishes. He’d destroyed all her photos and did everything possible to suppress her memories of those days. She hadn’t been lying to Presley. She’s pushed her history so far down in her memory banks that it was nearly gone.

Charmaine had tamped her uninhabited side down so long ago that it felt as though she were two separate people. She tried so hard to be the meek, subservient wife Ezekiel demanded. When she succeeded, he didn’t hit her as often.

Ezekiel had almost called off the wedding when he found out she wasn’t a virgin. She’d sworn to him it had been only one boy, and that he’d coerced her. He’d have been mortified to learn she’d been with at least a dozen different guys, starting when she was fifteen. He’d bought the story she’d sold him—what was one more lie—and the marriage had proceeded as planned.

Charmaine often wondered how different her life would be if he had called it off. Would she be happy? She wouldn’t have Lazarus, Ruth, and Abraham. Her kids were her life. They made the abuse, both physical and mental, bearable.

She shook her head. It did no good to wish for things that could not be. Her lot in life was set. She could only hope it atoned for her sins.

Charmaine glanced out the window again to see that Mr. Adkins, one of the oldest members in their congregation, had waylaid her husband. Good. It took him forever to get to the point. She was safe for the moment.

She picked up the phone, intending to call Jessie or Tamera, until she realized she didn’t know their numbers. She’d spoken with Tamera a few years ago, but it had been a painful experience for both. An encounter with Jessie had been equally tedious.

Charmaine placed the phone down. She wasn’t sure she believed Presley and Dominic that someone was targeting the Cheerios. Yes, it was strange that both Margy and Nancy were dead. A stab of pain sliced through her heart. She had loved them both once, but that girl had basically died, replaced by a shell of a woman. That’s what she’d become.

A door slammed, and she knew it meant Ezekiel was on his way. She braced herself for what was to come.