CHAPTER FOUR

  Chief Brady stood in the Saunders’ living room, talking with Peyton Saunders’ grieving husband Jim. It had been a long and difficult conversation. One however that was necessary, as Brady was trying to both investigate a homicide and console a grief-stricken spouse. All the obligatory questions had been asked. Do you know of anyone who might want to harm your wife? Did she have any enemies? Any threatening phone calls? etc., etc., etc. Saunders was never a suspect. His alibi was air-tight. Brady then asked the question that should been asked first.

  “Jim, did your wife say anything about a picture being sent to her, with a message written on the back?”

  Saunders was still reeling with shock. He stared at Brady for a moment as if he didn’t hear the question, then without saying a word turned and walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with an envelope in hand. He pulled out the photo of Peyton and handed it to Brady. “This came in the mail a couple days ago.”

  Brady looked at the black and white image of Peyton Saunders sitting on the bleachers. On the back he read the words:

  Good evening, Peyton. I have brought you something.

  But we had better come into the light…

  Brady tried not to visibly wince. “Any idea who took the picture?”

  Saunders shook his head.

  “Does this writing mean anything to you?” Brady asked.

  Saunders seemed to focus for a brief second. “Do you think it has something to do with Peyton’s murder?”

  Brady wasn’t about to venture a public guess. Not yet anyway. “Don’t know for sure. Mind if I take this with me?” he asked, holding up the photo. “I’d like to show it to someone.”

  Again Saunders eyes went vacant, lost. He nodded then sat down heavily in a living room chair, staring blankly at a distant thing only he could see.

  A half-hour later Brady walked into Rainy Day Books. Several people strolled the aisles. One of them, Glenna Ezell, looked up.

  “Any idea who killed Peyton?” she asked loudly.

  Brady tipped his hat. “Good to see you, too, Glenna.”

  Glenna poked a bony finger in Brady’s direction. “I tell you who did it,” she said. “It was that preacher fella.”

  Brady glanced around the store, looking for Dani. “Preacher? You mean Pastor James?”

  Glenna adjusted her hearing aid. “What’s that?”

  Brady walked closer. “Glenna, now I want you to keep your voice down. No use starting any rumors.”

  Glenna dismissed Brady with a wave of her hand. “I saw them arguing,” she said defiantly. “The day before she turned up dead.”

  That got Brady’s attention.

  “You saw Pastor James and Peyton Saunders arguing?”

  “Plain as I see you talking to me. They were in front of the Wal-Mart, right there in the parking lot.”

  The other people shopping for books had quietly drifted closer to the conversation. Brady noticed, and pulled Glenna aside. He leaned in close. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Why, of course I’m sure,” she sniffed. “I know an argument when I see one.”

  Brady handed his card to Glenna. “Would you mind coming down to my office tomorrow morning, and tell me what you saw?”

  Glenna inspected the card for a moment then stuck it in her purse. “Ten o’clock be all right?”

  Brady tipped his hat again. “That’d be fine. I appreciate it.”

  Glenna exited the store, head held high. She could hardly wait to tell someone the news of her involvement.

  “Afternoon, Chief,” came a friendly voice. It was Dani Birch.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” Brady asked. “Privately?”

  His words were casual but the tone was urgent. Dani led Brady to her office and closed the door. Brady pulled out the photo of Peyton Saunders. Dani glanced at it briefly then turned it over. A worry line creased her forehead. “Was this sent to Peyton?”

  “A couple days before she was killed. Does the inscription mean anything to you?”

  Dani read the words aloud.

  Good evening, Peyton. I have brought you something.

  But we had better come into the light…

  “Yes,” she said after a moment. “It’s a line from Dostoyevsky’s novel Crime and Punishment. It’s the most famous passage in the entire book.”

  Brady knew the answer but asked the question any way. “Does it have something to do with a killing?”

  Dani handed the photo back. “These are the words spoken by the main character just before he commits a murder.”

  “And the murder weapon?”

  “An axe. He killed a woman with an axe.”

  Brady groaned audibly. He’d been able to contain the details surrounding Peyton Saunders death. Only he, the two officers who discovered the body and the coroner knew that an axe was found at the scene

  “How was Peyton killed?” Dani asked.

  Brady said nothing.

  A half-beat later, Dani said, “Oh, my lord.”

  “Yeah,” Brady grimaced. “Oh, my lord.”

  The stood in silence a long moment before Dani spoke. “Have you been able to establish a connection between the two deaths?”

  Brady shook his head. “It’s early yet, but so far I can’t find one. They might have known each other casually. Holly Springs is small but it’s not that small.”

  “Chief, are you going to go public with this? As a precaution?”

  A knot formed in Brady’s stomach. “Looks like I have to,” he conceded. “If the killer sends these photos out a few days ahead of time, I have to make it public. People got the right to know.”

  “It’s going to cause panic.”

  “Panic I can deal with. It’s the killing that’s got to stop.”

  Those words hung in the air for a moment. Finally Brady attempted a smile. “Appreciate your help,” he said as he left the office.

  Dani walked out with him. They were half-way across the store when a thought occurred to Brady. He stopped. “Do you know Pastor James?” he asked. “Over at the Methodist Church.”

  “Sure, I know him. Everyone does.”

  “Any idea if Peyton Saunders went to church there?”

  “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just curious.”

  Dani sensed Brady’s question was more than mere curiosity. Suddenly the dominoes fell. “Charlie Young was found at the Methodist Church. If Peyton Saunders attended there also, that might be the connection you’re looking for.”

  Brady pushed back his hat and smiled. “You’re pretty good at this,” he said. “Putting pieces together.”

  “It doesn’t take much of a sleuth to do that. It makes perfect sense.”

  Brady opened the door then turned. “No, Dani. Nothing about this thing makes any sense at all.” Again the tip of his hat. “Appreciate your help though. It would have taken me a long while to figure out what those messages on the photos meant.”

  “Wish there was something I could do before another shows up?”

  “Me too,” Brady sighed. “Me too.”

 
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