A Tale Of True Love

During this time, Braxton’s father had also become a suspect.

  Jean Conner had told the police about the comment her father-in-law had made, in her presence, about taking care of one pastor and now it was time to take care of another. What did he mean by that?

  She couldn’t tell them, but she secretly feared he could have harmed the man, if he felt pushed.

  In the interrogation room, Officer McNamara was questioning the influential man from Brandon Creek.

  “Is your name Franklin William Conner?” he asked, for the record.

  “Yes,” Franklin stated, irritated and upset he was even there. How dare they bring him in for questioning! He was a wealthy and righteous man!

  The officer verified his personal information, including his address and then started his questioning.

  “I understand that you recently threatened to get rid of Pastor Tom Madison, just like you had done to Pastor Andrew Brown. Is that true?”

  Franklin’s face turned red with anger.

  “When was I supposed to have threatened him or anyone else for that matter?” he stated defiantly.

  “We have an eyewitness that heard you specifically threaten him just days after he had gotten here. Do you deny it?”

  Franklin tried to remember, then suddenly he recalled the night of the vote to open the church against his wishes. He had made that statement in his own home, among his family.

  Who dared to expose my private comments to the police? Braxton and Stanton weren’t there and Jed and his wife won’t ever say anything, would they? Was it Jean or maybe one of the grandchildren? Why would any of them do it and get me into trouble?

  He was furious.

  “Well, Mr. Conner?”

  “It was just a remark of frustration and anger. It meant nothing!” he said indignantly.

  “Pastor Andrew was murdered Mr. Conner. That’s not ‘Nothing’,” the policeman responded seriously.

  Franklin shrugged. “Murdered? Don’t be ridiculous. The man probably tripped over his big feet and fell down the well himself!”

  “That’s not what the facts indicate. What did you mean when you said you had gotten rid of him?”

  “I told you - nothing!”

  “Mr. Conner, this is a serious matter and I would cooperate if I were you. We have a journal written by Pastor Andrew Brown himself, which clearly states your harassment of him. He wrote about your belittling of him and your efforts to drive him from the church. Do you deny any of this?”

  Franklin’s insolent attitude grew cold as he became seriously worried about the implications that were forming. He had pressured the man to leave, yes. But that was his duty.

  “As head elder, at the time, it was my duty to protect the church. I was only doing what I needed to,” he said warily.

  Officer McNamara read off some of the hurtful and petty things he had done. Hearing the officer read it out loud and in the man’s own words, made him sound so malicious and manipulating.

  “It seems to me, you could have just asked him to leave. Why the persecution? What happened, Mr. Conner? Did you have an argument with him? Push him? Injure him accidently?”

  “No! Never! I’ve never hurt anyone.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  Images of the men at his mill who had gotten injured came to mind, specifically Gordon Davenport. He had been killed by a faulty machine that should have been replaced. But those were accidents. He hadn’t intentionally hurt anyone, yet he felt guilty.

  “We have a witness who will testify that you had a fierce argument with the dead man, yelling at him about your daughter-in-law, Sheila Conner. Telling him to mind his own business, and then just two weeks later he vanished. Did you confront him again? Get angry enough to do something about it?”

  Franklin’s heart quivered. It sounded so plausible. He responded shaken, “No. I never fought with the man. When he disappeared, like everyone else, I really thought he’d run away with my daughter-in-law. She’s the type! She’s nothing but trouble.”

  “We’re talking about you and Pastor Brown, Mr. Conner. Where were you on the 26th of September that year? Can your account for your whereabouts?”

  “Good grief man, that was over ten years ago!” he said upset by the questions that were coming. “How am I supposed to remember what I was doing back then?”

  The officer paused and then said coldly, “You’d better find a way to remember. Unless you can come up with an alibi for your time that day, you are a major suspect in this case. You have a history of harassing the man, of fighting with him. You have more than one motive to harm him, opportunity and the means to do it.”

  Franklin was stunned.

  They really think I could have done this, he realized and there was nothing he could say to change it. He had done everything he was accused of, except harm the man he wanted gone from the church. What could he say?

  For the first time, jail seemed a real possibility. “I want to talk to my lawyer.”

  Officer McNamara placed the phone in front of the business man without saying a word.

  Franklin took his notebook from his inside breast pocket and looked up the number. With trembling hands he dialed his attorney.

  When the phone call was over, Officer McNamara said, “We aren’t holding you for now. This is all circumstantial evidence. But don’t leave town for any reason. We’ll want to talk to you and your lawyer the next time, Mr. Conner.”

  Franklin left the station, devastated, worried about his future and how this might affect his image.

  Why couldn’t that man just leave quietly, as he should have done?

 

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