Every Deadly Suspicion

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

S COTT’S MEMORIAL SERVICE took place on a stifling day at the end of May. Hanna’s mother would have called it “earthquake weather”: windy, hot, and dry. Dust devils formed here and there, clothes rippled, and hats needed to be held.

A lot of people attended. The Buckley business empire was large. From the number of rental cars in the parking lot, many people flew in from San Francisco and other big cities. Hanna saw that most of the town was here as well.

At one point she spied Jared in uniform with personnel from the fire department. They were county firefighters, and the one station in Dry Oaks had been built and donated by Buckley Enterprises. She had no chance to talk to him. Marcus Marshall was also there, filming. He’d been crowing all over town about how he’d gotten the best video of the crash. That man was so annoying.

“Big crowd,” Hanna’s steady guy, Detective Nathan Sharp, commented as they exited the car. He’d given her a ride. The small local cemetery just outside downtown was packed, a line of black limos stretching a long way along the road. The Buckleys weren’t churchgoers, so the only public service was graveside.

Many large, ornate headstones belonged to pioneers, Civil War vets, and gold miners. The place attracted a lot of history hunters, and parts of several western movies had been filmed here. The Buckley plot was in the oldest section of the cemetery. Scott would be buried next to his mother, Hattie, and his grandfather, Alphonse Buckley, or Big Al as everyone called him. Hanna’s mother was also buried in the cemetery, not near the Buckleys, but being in this place reminded Hanna of her.

“Hanna!”

She turned and saw that Amanda Carson, her grandmother Betty, and Edda Fairchild were heading toward the service as well. Hanna and Nathan stopped and waited for them to catch up. Betty had recently had hip replacement surgery, and Mandy pushed her in a wheelchair.

They shared hugs all around. Two years older than Hanna, Amanda had been her best friend since grade school. They used to pretend that they were sisters. Mostly Hanna pretended. As a child she sometimes prayed that she could be a part of Mandy’s family for real because there was so much turbulence in her own home.

It really wasn’t a stretch, Hanna thought. They were both athletic with chestnut hair and green eyes. People often mistook them for sisters. Mandy was a couple of inches taller than Hanna’s five-foot-nine, and she wore her hair long while Hanna now kept her hair short. Mandy had chosen a black dress for the memorial, while Hanna had opted for a black business suit.

Edda was a local woman Hanna had known her whole life and someone she considered family. A beloved Sunday school teacher, Edda was a rock at the church Hanna attended.

“I knew both Buckley boys when they were in diapers.” Edda shook her head. “So very sad to see this violent end to Scott.”

“I always expected Chase would go first,” Betty said.

“Why do you say that?” Hanna asked, the murder investigation still at the forefront of her thoughts. She’d not been able to get Everett or Chase to sit down for an interview yet.

“He was wild when he was younger. As wild as your father. Chase almost died at the cabin at Beecher’s Mine.” Betty was looking off toward the new section of the cemetery, where the markers for her daughter and son-in-law would be, Hanna guessed.

Pain marked her expression, and that did not surprise Hanna. Betty’s daughter, Sophia, and her husband, Blake, were Joe Keyes’s two murder victims. They were Amanda’s parents. While the third victim, Chase, had lived, acid had been thrown on him. He lost his right eye immediately and, later, part of his left leg when those acid burns went septic.

It occurred to Hanna that while Blake and Sophia had markers in this cemetery, there were no bodies. Joe would never say where he buried them. Hanna knew that neither Mandy nor Betty bore her any ill will because of that historical fact, but it still jabbed when it was brought up.

“Have you had any luck figuring out who killed Scott?” Mandy asked.

“Not so far.”

Edda took Hanna’s arm. “I’m sure you’ll find the person. You do a good job, Hanna. Your mother would be proud.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Hanna smiled. Edda was ever the encourager. Any mood brightened just being around her.

“How is your investigation going, Detective Sharp?” Edda asked. “I pray for you and your partner. My heart breaks for the young women who have died.”

Nathan worked as a homicide investigator for the sheriff’s department stationed in Sonora. Over the past two months, bodies of two women had been dumped along the highway. Fear in the community grew that there was a serial killer in the county.

He answered as they walked through the open cemetery gate along a stone path. “We’re working leads, Edda. If this case has shown me anything, it’s that women have to be careful who they open up to on the internet. It’s possible that’s where the killer found them.”

“I have faith in you, Detective. Like Hanna, you are very good at your job.”

They’d reached the outside patio area where the service would be held. A sea of folding chairs surrounded a gold-colored coffin on a platform. The white cloth skirt under the coffin flapped wildly in the wind. Valerie Fox, flanked by Everett and Chase, sat in the front row. Grover had already requested that Hanna wait to talk to Ms. Fox until after the service. He promised to bring the woman in himself.

“She fell apart when I gave her the news,” Grover had told Hanna.

From several rows back, Hanna watched her now, sobbing on Everett’s shoulder.

The front row also contained several Buckley cousins and uncles. Many of whom had called her, wanting to know if she had a lead on the killer.

“Not yet,” she’d told them. “But I will find out who did this, I promise.”

Here, in the somber setting of the funeral, Hanna meant that promise. She would get justice for Scott and relentlessly follow leads, wherever they took her.

When the service ended, Hanna got a ride home from Mandy. Nathan had left immediately after the service to head to work. Mandy asked her to lunch, but Hanna declined, needing some alone time to decompress.

Too many unpleasant memories rambled around in her head. Death usually made people think, reflect. Her mom was dead center in her thoughts. Paula Keyes had been a bitter, difficult woman, consumed with anger at Joe for what he’d done.

“He ruined my life. I hate him for that,” Hanna had heard more times than she could count.

The Beecher’s Mine murders took place the day Hanna was born. She was four months old when her father was sentenced to two consecutive life terms. He had confessed to avoid the death penalty. Apparently, her mother had taken her to see the man once, but Hanna had no memory of that.

She’d grown up under the shadow of the brutal affair. Bullied and teased as the spawn of Satan when she was a kid, Hanna saw joining law enforcement as the only way to erase the stain of being related to a brutal killer.

Mandy’s, Edda’s, and Jared’s friendships had rescued Hanna from bullies when she was a child and from bitterness as she grew up. She remembered the day she had realized that Mandy was an orphan because of what Joe Keyes had done. Paula had just broken up with Marcus Marshall. They’d dated all through the year Hanna was in first grade. The breakup was messy and loud, and Paula sent Hanna to spend the weekend with Amanda. It wasn’t a problem for Hanna; she loved spending the night at Mandy’s house. It was always calm and quiet there. Not chaotic like her own. Memories enfolded Hanna like a warm quilt.

Saturday morning, she and Mandy got up early. The house was quiet. Betty and Chuck were still in bed.

“I like being here,” Hanna said.

“I like you being here too. You’re my little sister.”

Hanna laughed. “You’re a nice sister.”

They were in the den on the floor, playing a game of Monopoly.

“Can I ask you a question, Mandy?”

“I’m not going to let you win.”

“Ha, I beat you last time. No, I wondered, do you know why my mom was so mad at Marcus? She threw his clothes out on the ground.”

“It’s the book,” Mandy said. “Marcus wrote a bad book about bad things.”

“Bad things?” Hanna pondered that for a moment. Then something clicked. “About Joe Keyes?”

Mandy nodded. “I heard Grandma Betty say the book opened old wounds. Your mom has lots of wounds that won’t heal.”

Hanna considered that. “Wounds? I’ve never seen any.”

“They are the inside kind of wounds. You remember when those boys teased you?”

Hanna nodded.

“They hurt you inside. They wounded you, but it’s not like a scratch or a bruise. Grandma Betty says that’s why your mom’s mad all the time.”

Hanna understood that. When the boys had teased her, it not only hurt, it made her very angry. A light bulb went on, and she knew why her mother was angry. “Joe gave her inside wounds.”

“Yeah. You don’t know what he did, do you?”

Hanna frowned. All her life she’d been told Joe was evil, that he murdered people, but she didn’t know who he killed or why. “He’s a bad, bad man. He killed people and he’ll never get out of jail.”

“He murdered my mommy and daddy.”

Hanna’s mouth went slack. She stared at Mandy. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie, Hanna. He murdered my mommy and daddy. That’s why I live with Grandma Betty and Grandpa Chuck.”

Hanna couldn’t believe it. The worst person in the world was Joe Keyes, and he had done this horrible thing to her best friend. Hanna dropped the dice, covered her face, and sobbed. It never really hit home until this moment, when she understood exactly what Joe was responsible for.

Mandy set a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry I said anything. It’s not your fault.”

Hanna was inconsolable. Grandma Betty came into the room. “Here, what’s happened? Hanna, why are you crying?”

Betty knelt next to her, and Hanna let the woman gather her into her arms. Mandy told her why Hanna was crying.

“Oh, baby, none of this is your fault. You’re carrying such a burden. We’ve forgiven Joe in this house, and we pray for his redemption.”

Hanna stopped crying, breathing in shuddering breaths. She stayed snuggled next to Betty for several minutes before she felt she could talk. “What’s redemption?”

“It’s salvation, honey. It’s making someone’s soul right. We pray that Joe will find Jesus and ask for forgiveness for what he did.”

“Could Jesus forgive such a thing?”

“If Joe asks, Jesus will forgive.”

“Did Joe ask you? Is that why you forgave him?”

“No, I forgave him because Jesus forgave me. Forgiveness is something we all need, whether we know it or not.”

Hanna would never forget that weekend when she was six or the kindness of Mandy and her family. A Bible verse came to mind. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice...” It was Betty’s favorite, and it had become Hanna’s. Paula’s bitterness had ended her life early—she dropped dead of a heart attack two years ago. To Hanna, her mother was Joe Keyes’s last victim. Hanna had to repeat the verse often to remind herself that she didn’t want to end up like her mom: another victim.