Serena touched her mouth.
“I had no idea. That would be a travesty if the Broken Yolk went under.”
“Some think gentrification doesn’t occur in wealthy villages like Wolf Lake,” Raven said, glancing around the table. “But that’s what’s happening to Ruth Sims. Young, wealthy businesses are running the Ma and Pa shops out of town.”
“Many are chains,” Darren said, drawing a nod from Raven. “They lower prices to steal customers from established businesses. Then, after the older restaurants close, they jack the prices up. Pretty soon only the rich, mobile types can afford to eat in the village.”
Naomi glanced at LeVar and said, “There must be something we can do to help.”
“Y’all know Ruth. She don’t want nobody’s help. Thinks she can do it all on her own.”
“I wrote strategic plans for small businesses while I lived in Ithaca. If Ruth would let me help, I’d love to speak with her.”
“Good luck. Unless she knows you, she won’t open up.”
“We’ll go together,” Thomas said.
Darren winked at Thomas, the corner of his mouth lifting into a grin.
After they finished dinner, Serena cut into the sweet potato pie and passed slices around the table. Though Thomas was stuffed, he couldn’t resist the aroma.
Between bites, Darren said, “I heard the sheriff’s department is taking a second look at the Lincoln Ramsey case. Is it related to Cecilia Bond?”
Thomas set his fork down. He’d hoped the investigations wouldn’t come up over dinner.
“We’re not taking anything for granted.”
“But Lincoln Ramsey had COPD,” Naomi said.
“And Cecilia Bond suffered from advanced kidney disease.”
“Why would someone murder Mr. Ramsey? Everyone loved him.”
“Not everyone.” Thomas wiped his mouth on a napkin. “But I can’t speak about the case. We’re still investigating.”
They nodded, the tone suddenly somber.
“Perhaps someone murdered Mr. Ramsey and Mrs. Bond to put them out of their misery,” Scout said as she swiped through her phone.
“What did you say?” Naomi asked, her eyes incredulous.
“Run a Google search for angel of mercy serial killers. There was an article about them on the Virtual Searchers website last month.” When her mother glared at her for an explanation, Scout set her phone in her lap. “Some serial killers believe they’re saving their victims from a lifetime of suffering. Others claim they’re doing God’s work. Not that it makes them less guilty. I’m just explaining their motivations.”
Thomas set his chin on his fists and studied Scout across the table. The theory made sense. Yes, this girl had a future in law enforcement…if her mother didn’t lock Scout’s computer inside a safe. Naomi was already scared her daughter would venture down another dark path, as she had during the Jeremy Hyde case.
“On that happy note,” Raven said, cutting through the sweet potato pie. “Who wants more dessert?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thursday, July 16th
7:50 p.m.
Sweat trickled down Thomas’s forehead. Half the village packed St. Mary’s church. His hand kept migrating to his collar to loosen his tie. Beside him, his mother knelt upon the hassock, her chin lifted in a stately manner, as if she prepared to address the congregation. Last light arrowed through the stained glass and reflected on her skin. A line extended from the rear of the church to the altar where Father Fowler gave communion.
“You don’t believe any of this, do you?” Lindsey Shepherd uttered from the corner of her mouth.
Thomas blinked and adjusted his knees on the hassock, his legs cramping.
“What?”
“God, the devil, eternal life in heaven. You never believed.”
Thomas lowered his gaze to the pew’s woodgrain.
“I have my doubts.” When she pursed her lips, he went silent for a moment. “What about you? Do you believe there’s a god above us, watching over and protecting us?”
“The things you’ve seen, I wouldn’t blame you for losing faith.”
Her words left him speechless. He turned to her. She faced forward, her eyes locked on the elderly sisters taking communion.
“Their faith is strong,” Lindsey said, nodding at the sisters.
“Why are we here, Mother?”
She didn’t answer.
A crowd blocked the exit when mass concluded. Lindsey slipped the pamphlet into her purse, then checked her lipstick in a mirror.
“Sit and be patient,” she said. “You were always so fidgety.”
Thomas lowered himself to the pew and clasped his hands in his lap. Now that the crowd had thinned, he could breathe again. Had the crowd stolen his breath, or was he claustrophobic?
“How was your cookout?” she asked, twisting her mouth as though the word tasted bitter.
“We enjoyed ourselves,” he said, trying to picture his parents among his friends, passing burgers and steak around the table, and failing. “You’re welcome to join us another time.”
“Why? We have food at her house, and I’ve seen the lake before. I don’t understand why people worship a body of water. A glacier melts, and lemmings flock to the shore, as if gathering to witness a divine proclamation.”
“Give it a chance. You might enjoy yourself.”
She sniffed.
An uncomfortable moment followed in which they had nothing to talk about. A restless child raced among the pews as his father grinned and the mother shot stern looks. Thomas shifted to Lindsey.
“I figured you’d slap the company prospectus on the pew and sell me on Shepherd Systems again.”
“Don’t make light of our offer, Thomas. Shepherd Systems had its most profitable quarter in company history, and our client list grows by the day. You’d be set for life, and you’d uphold your father’s legacy. And last I checked, none of our officers were shot in the back by dissatisfied clients.”
Her words stung. They sat in silence as the crowd filtered through the two doors, Thomas wondering why they didn’t open the side exits and provide an efficient method for exiting.
“I shouldn’t criticize your career choice,” she said, surprising him. “We may not show it sometimes. But we’re proud of all you’ve accomplished.”
He turned to her. She sat ramrod straight in the pew, her eyes fixed on the empty alter, as though expecting something miraculous to occur.
“Then why go behind my back and coerce Sheriff Gray to cut my position?”
“The company will crumble without a Shepherd at
