wore expressions that wavered between embarrassment and sorrow. He cleared his throat then dropped his gaze back down to the coffee cup sculpture he had created earlier.
“That’s good… Let’s just stay calm,” Constance told him again. “Everything is okay. We can go talk just like you wanted, okay?”
In reality, she was worried that what had just happened was a minor squall and that his sudden passive state might be the calm before the storm.
“No, Special Agent Mandalay,” he replied quietly. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that… I’m too late…” When he finished speaking he reached up and slipped his hand inside the folds of his topcoat.
“Whoa,” Constance said, her right hand automatically sliding back and easily pulling the bottom of her sweatshirt up to clear her weapon. Her left came forward toward him. “Why don’t you just pull your hand out slowly, and keep both of them where I can see them, okay?”
“No need to worry, Special Agent,” he replied softly. “I am merely reaching for my wallet.” Pastor Reese withdrew his hand from his coat, slowly as he had been instructed, and just like he’d said, it was filled with a black leather rectangle.
As he started unfolding the checkbook style wallet, Stella arrived, looking somewhat embarrassed. She settled a plate of pancakes onto the counter and then put a smaller dish containing eggs and bacon alongside. She glanced at Constance, then at the man.
“Put your money away, Pastor,” she told him. “You know the coffee is always on the house for you.”
He ignored her and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill, which he then placed next to his cup while saying, “This should cover Special Agent Mandalay’s breakfast. Keep the change for yourself, Stella.”
Constance began to object. “I’m afraid that…”
“I insist,” he replied, cutting her off. Then he brought his eyes up to meet hers once again. A look of apology creased his features, and when he spoke his voice was filled with what sounded to be sincere compassion. “ When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it… I’m sorry I was too late to save you, Special Agent Mandalay… So very sorry…”
He fell silent again as he carefully placed the wallet back inside his coat. Then, turning deliberately on the stool, he stood up and walked to the door. Once there, he looked back, and as if nothing had transpired, he smiled, then called out, “Merry Christmas, everyone.”
With that, he left. The bell above the entrance rang out a double chime as the door opened and then closed in his wake. Constance stood and stepped over to the doors, watching him through an unfogged section of the glass. He climbed into a familiar looking four-door sedan, then slowly backed it out and drove away.
When she turned and came back to the counter, Stella was still there. The waitress shook her head and looked at her with what actually seemed like mild compassion for a change.
“I’m sorry about that,” Stella apologized. “I’ve never seen him get so worked up. He usually just recites a few Bible verses and then goes on his way. He doesn’t really bother anyone. We’re all sorta used to it.”
Constance shook her head. “I guess I’m just the lucky one.”
Stella continued, “He’s harmless. I really think he’s just lonely.”
“What about his congregation?”
“He doesn’t have one.”
Constance shot her a puzzle look. “You mean nobody at all comes to his church?”
“Oh, he doesn’t have a church, ma’am. He’s not even a real minister.”
CHAPTER 19
Constance pulled the double layer of wool scarf down from her face while she waited at the front counter. She’d only had to walk a short distance across the street to get from the diner to the sheriff’s office, but the icy wind already seemed to be more brutal than it had been just an hour ago.
Clovis looked up when she came in, making eye contact and nodding to acknowledge her presence. She was currently occupied with the phone pressed up against her ear.
“Yes, yes I know,” she said into the handset. She listened for a minute, then looked up at Constance again and made a quick motion with her hand to indicate that the person at the other end of the line was a rambling talker. Eventually, she said, “Okay… Well, thanks so much for letting me know… I’ll send someone over to check… Yes… Yes… I will… You too… Bye…”
Once she had managed to hang up the phone she let out a quick sigh and shook her head, then turned her attention to the counter. “Good morning, Special Agent Mandalay. Sorry about that.” Her tone was businesslike, but she came across somewhat less standoffish than she had on the first day they’d met.
“No problem,” Constance replied. “Good morning, Clovis.”
“What can I do for you today?” the woman asked.
Constance looked past her to the darkened office windows on the back wall of the room. “I take it Sheriff Carmichael isn’t in yet today?”
“Been here and gone already,” Clovis answered. “He started early because of the snow. He’s out running a few errands right now.”
“Do you happen to know when he will be back?”
The woman shook her head. “Not for sure, but I can try to get him on the radio if you’d like.”
“Hmm…” Constance hummed thoughtfully for a moment before shaking her head and saying, “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to check in with him about the surveillance tonight.”
She nodded. “He mentioned that before he left.”
“To be honest, I’ve actually got a few things I need to take care of myself, so I’ll be tied up all day,” Constance told her. “When you speak to him, could you do me a favor and just let him know that I’ll meet up with him here this evening?”
“Sure, I can do that. Any particular time, or does he already know?”
The petite federal agent clucked her tongue then grimaced. “I’m not exactly sure on that just yet.”
“That’s okay,” Clovis replied. She glanced over her shoulder. When she looked back, her lips had arched into a tight frown, and it seemed as if the color had drained from her cheeks. The pained expression that resulted easily tacked ten years onto her face. With a heavy sigh she said, “It’s Christmas Eve. He’ll be right here waiting. He always is.”
“Yeah…” Constance muttered, not quite sure what else to say. “I imagine he is.”
Clovis fiddled with her hands for a moment, looking down at them as if lost in thought. Her face eventually began to soften, allowing a blush of life to return. Finally, she looked up and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Special Agent Mandalay?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Constance replied, giving her gloved fingers a soft drum on the edge of the counter. “Thank you very much though.”
“No problem at all. Stay warm out there.”
“I’m definitely trying.” Constance reached up and began tugging at her scarf in order to pull it back around her face. She was just hooking it over the bridge of her nose when she furrowed her brow and pulled the fabric back down. “You know, there might be one other thing you can help me with…”
“Pastor Reese?” Clovis replied.
Constance froze for a second and cocked a questioning eyebrow, but her brain was already doing the math. “Ahh… That was Stella on the phone when I walked in…”
Clovis nodded.
“That was quick, but then I suppose I shouldn’t be all that surprised,” Constance said.
“She saw you walking over here and wanted to make sure we knew what had happened in case you were going to file a complaint.”
“Well… An official complaint really wasn’t my plan. If it was I would have arrested him myself.
“I actually told her that.”
Constance canted her head to the side. “Although, it might bear mentioning that he did voluntarily confess to stalking me.”
