Dead Giveaway

'Sara?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. This is about her and Lawrence?' Jessica settled into the corner of the backseat, her smile a surprise.

When in doubt, act like you know more than you do, I always say. 'How long had they been a couple?'

'They clicked the minute they set eyes on each other. But how'd you find out? I thought I was the only one who knew,' she said.

'Believe me, it hasn't been easy to get at the truth. Tell me about them.'

'Her parents would have freaked if they found out, I can tell you that. After she was gone and Lawrence got sent up, I decided it wasn't something anyone needed to know, especially the parents. A dead issue. Fuckin' Romeo and Juliet deal.'

'Jessie's been reading Shakespeare?' Marty said. 'Stop the presses.'

'Hey,' she said. 'There's a whole lot you don't know about me, so screw it shut, Marty.'

I cleared my throat. 'Getting back to Sara. Exactly when did she disappear?'

Jessie squinted in thought for a few seconds. 'Right before the whole Lawrence thing. All of a sudden two people were gone in a couple weeks' time. Her mother said she went on some mission trip to Mexico, but Sara never said anything about going anywhere to me. Other kids went on those trips all the time, though, and Sara got a lot more out of that Bible crap than I ever did. It would have been her kind of gig. Not up my alley, I can tell you.'

Marty said, 'You're serving mankind in your own special way, Jessie.' He balled up the paper sack that had held his sandwich and tossed it in her lap. 'Take care of that for me on your way back to work.'

'Sure, asshole.' She looked at me. 'Anything else?'

'You're certain Lawrence and Sara were... close?' I said.

'You mean doing the nasty? Oh, yeah. I'm sure. I could tell by the way they snuck their little church school glances across the room. I would have liked a little of that Lawrence action myself. The guy was hot.'

'They're all hot to you,' Marty said. 'Even the scuzzy ones with hair growing out of their ears.'

'Okay. I'm done here,' she snapped. She opened the door, launched the twisted bag at Marty's head and left.

After Marty drove me back to my car, I thanked him for his help, and he apologized for the interaction between him and Jessie, saying he got carried away. He said she was a smart woman wasting her brain and it pissed him off, that he ran into way too many people like her.

I was a little pissed off myself at the information the Rankins had omitted. I decided another visit to them was in order. Maybe they didn't know about Lawrence and Sara, but I was beginning to think that trip she took had been a mission all right, a mission trip the Rankins organized to get their daughter away from her black boyfriend. I needed to know when Sara left, and if I got lucky, the pastor and his wife might even come clean about what they knew or suspected about Lawrence and Sara.

The parking lot was packed when I arrived at the church and discovered a late Sunday service was in progress. I tiptoed into the sanctuary and chose one of those movie theater–type seats in the last row. Pastor Rankin was miked, and I had to admit the little man could make you believe he was alone with you despite the full house. No wonder they needed this huge place.

I'd come in on the tail end of the sermon and only knew Pastor Rankin had focused on God's grace, grace that allowed friend and foe alike to gather as one community. I didn't really listen to the words, but focused more on the rhythm of his delivery. Does someone teach you to speak like that? I wondered. Or was he born with the ability?

He finished, saying, 'All of you are present on earth to glorify God, to expand His kingdom by proclaiming His word in the world.'

I was surprised when the audience stood and applauded. No one applauded in my church, not for anything. This whole production reminded me of a Broadway play.

I hung around in the vestibule for what seemed like an hour as people visited with each other and the Rankins. The crowd finally began to disperse and then the pastor and his wife were alone, preparing to leave.

They both seemed surprised to see me. 'I have a few more questions,' I said after we exchanged greetings.

Mrs. Rankin said, 'Did you just arrive?'

'No, I came in on the end of the sermon. Impressive, Pastor.'

'I'm so thrilled you joined us tonight,' said the pastor's wife when he didn't respond.

Rankin was wearing that odd smile that had made me so uncomfortable the other day, his eyes never straying from me. Finally he spoke. 'You've brought the light again. More light to fill our church home and our hearts, Abby Rose.'

I thought this aura business might have been a diversion last time, but now I wasn't so sure. He seemed so sincere, so mesmerized by me when it should have been the other way around.

As for Mrs. Rankin? She was definitely bothered and was staring at him with that same confused look I'd noticed yesterday. 'Andrew, the only light you seem to be speaking of comes from God or from Jesus, our savior. Please remember that.'

I decided it was time to fish or cut bait, get to why I was here. 'Why didn't either of you tell me Lawrence knew Sara?'

Mrs. Rankin didn't miss a beat. 'You never asked.'

Now that answer pissed me off. Not wanting to burn my bridges, however, I bit my tongue and sweetly said, 'Okay. I'll try to be direct. Did you suspect they were having a little romance?'

'Of course not,' said the pastor. 'I told you before, he was... black.' He whispered the word 'black,' a tactic used often in these parts to let a listener know where a speaker stood on race relations. I already knew where the pastor stood, though. Blacks might be welcome to worship here, but they would never really belong in the fold.

'Sara had no boyfriend,' Mrs. Rankin said. 'She was very involved in charity work, school, many other things, too. Besides, she'd left for Mexico before the murder, so I'm unsure why it even matters that they knew each other.'

'The police never asked about her either, did they?' I said.

'No. She wasn't here the night Lawrence was arrested. They had no reason to ask,' she said.

'Some people happen to think Sara and Lawrence were close, maybe even intimate.'

'Intimate only with God.' Pastor Rankin had flushed so red I thought we might need to call the fire department. His eyes had filled, and I was worried he might plunge over the deep end again.

'I didn't come to upset you, Pastor,' I said. 'I'm trying to get at the truth.'

'Oh, I know,' he said. 'The light of truth follows you everywhere. God is helping you in your quest. Allow Him to lead you down the righteous path. Give in to His wishes, and the truth will follow.'

Problem was, Rankin's so-called righteous path led me to this church, but his unwavering stare made me wish I was somewhere else. 'Are you certain you knew nothing about your daughter's relationship to Lawrence?' I asked.

'There was no relationship,' Mrs. Rankin said, placing a manicured hand on her husband's sleeve. 'You know how spent you are after a sermon, Andrew.' She looked at me. 'The sermons sometimes take him someplace else, a place where his senses are heightened. I think he needs to rest.'

I said, 'Well, I'm not resting until I learn the truth. See, there's a man sitting in prison for a crime he didn't commit. If Sara was the person you say she was, she'd want you to help him—not take a nap right now, Pastor.'

'Yes... she would want to help,' Rankin said. 'Sara cared so much for the less fortunate, the—'

'Please let him gather himself before you continue,' Mrs. Rankin said. 'We are willing spirits, but a church this size has its stresses.'

'I hate to be persistent, but I need to know about Sara's trip,' I said. 'When did she leave? When did you find out she was missing?'

'Maybe we should go into the office,' Mrs. Rankin replied. 'All I ask is that you be gentle with Andrew. He