Chapter 29
29
Jeremy and Pete sat in their vehicle outside Jed’s client’s home, waiting for him to return. “This could be him,” Jeremy said.
A mid-sized, older-model sedan drove slowly down the street and pulled into the driveway. A middle-aged man got out, and Jeremy noted that he matched the description of Jed. He walked around the back of the sedan, retrieved a walker from the trunk, and then moved to the passenger side, where he assisted an elderly lady out of the vehicle. He then proceeded to guide her carefully up the walk and helped her unlock her front door. He disappeared inside for almost ten minutes before re-emerging.
Jeremy and Pete alighted from their SUV and walked toward him. “Jed Harborrow?”
The man turned, and as his gaze landed on them in their intimidating DTF uniforms, his eyes widened, then he smiled widely. “Yes, I’m Jed. Can I help you?” He stood by his vehicle, a picture of calm confidence. There wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation as Jeremy and Pete approached, their badges clipped prominently to their belts. Jed waited, hands resting casually at his sides, his demeanor open and inviting.
Jeremy stopped just short of him, unclipping his badge and holding it forward. “I’m Detective Jeremy Pickett, and this is my partner, Detective Pete Bolton. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the elderly residents you drive around.”
Jed’s smile didn’t falter. “Of course, Detectives. My mother mentioned you might stop by.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the house, then back at them. “Since this isn’t my place, would you prefer I come to the station?”
The offer caught Jeremy off guard—suspects usually weren’t this accommodating. He exchanged a glance with Pete before nodding. “That works. It’s about a ten-minute drive. You can follow us.”
Jed’s smile widened. “Absolutely. Let me text my mother quickly so she knows I’ll be late for our lunch.”
Jeremy and Pete retreated to their vehicle as Jed typed on his phone. Once inside, Jeremy adjusted the sideview mirror to keep an eye on Jed’s car as it eased onto the road behind them.
Pete broke the silence first. “He’s awfully cooperative, don’t you think?”
Jeremy frowned, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Too cooperative. Either he’s innocent or thinks he’s clever enough to pull something over on us.”
Pete grunted in agreement. “We’ll see how clever he is once we start asking the hard questions.”
They arrived at the sheriff’s department and escorted Jed into a conference room. They indicated the chair for Jed to take while Jeremy and Pete positioned themselves on the other side of the table.
Jeremy slid a recorder onto the table. “We’ll ask you a few questions, and this session will be recorded.”
Jed’s expression brightened, his enthusiasm almost unnerving. “Exciting! I’ve never been interviewed by the police before, but I’ve seen plenty of cop shows.”
Jeremy kept his face neutral, masking his unease at Jed’s enthusiasm. “We understand your mother used to provide transportation for the elderly in the community—to appointments, bingo, meetings?—”
Jed cut in with a grin. “And grocery shopping! She loved helping out.”
Pete’s expression didn’t change. “And when she stopped, you took over?”
Jed nodded solemnly. “My mother has always been selfless. After she retired from the law office, she wanted to give back to the community. But as her eyesight worsened, she worried about driving others even though she was still perfectly fine behind the wheel for herself. I stepped in so her friends wouldn’t be left in a bind.”
Jeremy leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. “Before last year, did you drive anyone else in the community?”
Jed hesitated, his smile dimming slightly. “No, I didn’t. I feel bad about that now, but it’s never too late to start doing the Lord’s work.”
Pete seized on the phrase. “The Lord’s work?”
Jed straightened in his chair. “Helping those in need. I’m able-bodied, have a job that allows me to pay my bills and be comfortable, and had parents who taught me to do the right thing. I helped my father when he went into hospice and died two years ago. And now, even though my mother is fairly independent, I try to spend as much time with her as possible.”
Jeremy tapped a pen against the table. “We have your permanent address listed as Norfolk. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I have an apartment there. I work shifts at the docks, which gives me weekdays off to come over here and help out.”
Pete’s voice hardened slightly. “Do you ever receive payments for these services?”
Jed’s eyes widened. “Payments? Never! These people live on limited incomes. It wouldn’t feel right to take anything from them. A few of them have tried to press five or ten dollars in my hand to pay for gas, and I have refused it every time. My pastor always said that we shouldn’t profit from helping others.”
Jed’s eyes continued to bounce between Pete and Jeremy as they continued their questions. “What do you do at the docks?” Pete asked.
“I work for facilities maintenance. I work shifts, often the evening shift of three to eleven. That means I start at three in the afternoon and get off at eleven at night.” He shrugged and smiled.
Jeremy nodded. “And what does your job entail?”
“Cleaning. I have two buildings I work in mostly. One is the Employee Management building. The next one is where the company offices are located. I like the Employee building the best. I have the ship workers to talk to when they come in for breaks or their locker rooms.”
“So you spend several mornings on the Shore with your mother and drive others when they have called her. Then she keeps a list of who she transported.” When Jed nodded, Jeremy pushed a sheet of paper across the table. “Is this list up to date?”
Jed scanned the sheet. “Yes, this looks right. I don’t bother keeping track of who I transport. I never saw a reason, to be honest. But my mother was so used to keeping records that she continues to do so. She’s the one they call, and she keeps the schedule.”
“So if someone called you directly, you would tell your mom so she could put it on the list?”
“I don’t give out my number so someone can call me directly. With my full-time job, my boss doesn’t like us to receive calls or texts during our working hours. So my mom lets them call her, and then she’ll tell me. She also has my work schedule, knows when I’ll be over on the Shore, and can let them know if I’m unavailable.”
Jeremy smiled. “It sounds like your mom is a good secretary for you.”
Jed chuckled while nodding with enthusiasm. “My mom is wonderful. I know what she’s doing is a huge help to some of these people. And by allowing me to assist, I feel good about myself, too.”
Jeremy’s tone was conversational but probing. “A few people on this list have passed away recently—Helen McCarthy, Robert Stewart, Henry Miller, and Fred Rudolph.”
Jed nodded, his smile drooping. “I consider it a privilege to have known them. When you help the elderly, you know your time with them is limited. I consider it an honor to help them toward the end of their lives.”
“And recently, Hank Snodgrass is on this list.”
“My mother told me he just passed away.”
Jeremy’s eyes sharpened. “We noticed you spent several minutes in Ms. Weldon’s house when you brought her home. When you’re in the homes, do you ever handle their medications?”
For the first time, Jed’s composure cracked. His gaze fell to the table, his hands tightening slightly. After a moment, he looked up, his voice quieter. “No, Detectives. I don’t touch their medications.”
Jeremy didn’t react, but the slight twitch in Jed’s cheek didn’t escape his notice. He exchanged a glance with Pete, silently acknowledging that Jed had something to hide.
“Who knows that you transport the elderly around? Is there someone who might know who you’re taking and when?”
“No! I don’t brag about it. This isn’t an activity that I promote.” He shook his head almost violently. “There is too much evil in the world, and I do this because I can help. God doesn’t want us to brag about helping others!”
Pete leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Do you go to a particular church, Mr. Harborrow?”
Jed’s head now nodded more slowly. “Yes. Well, when I can. My shift work has me at the docks on some Sundays.”
“And when you can, what church do you attend?”
“The Praise House of God.”
Jeremy’s brow lifted slightly. “Pastor Grissley’s church.”
At that, Jed smiled. “Yes. I see you’re acquainted with Pastor Grissley. Such a good man. His sermons always inspire me to do better. To help others. He gives me sermon pamphlets to hand out at work.” Jed’s brow then furrowed. “At first, my manager didn’t want me handing anything out, but as long as I do it on my break, it’s okay. Pastor Grissley makes sure I have sermon pamphlets to hand out.”
After a few more questions, they thanked Jed and sent him on his way. Jeremy walked into their offices and sat down across from Pete. “What do you think?”
Pete growled, scrubbing his hand over his face, “Could be someone from the church who knows Jed’s schedule. Maybe his mom’s before that. They get into the house while they’re gone and take the pills.”
“That wouldn’t account for the medications not being found in the victims’ bodies.”
“Shit, that’s right.” He tapped his pen on the desk. “He’s lying about not being around their medication.” Before Jeremy could speak, Pete growled again. “Nope. That still wouldn’t account for the medication not being in their bodies.”
“The victims stopped taking their medications several weeks before death, according to the autopsy reports.” Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “They would have noticed not having any medication.”
“Someone convinced them to stop taking it. But why? Jed’s the only one who is the common denominator.”
Jeremy grimaced. “He and Pastor Grissley. We need to look back at him again.”
Pete scoffed. “Agreed. Feel like taking a drive?”
Jeremy smirked. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t take long for them to walk into the church again. With no receptionist or secretary, they weren’t surprised to find Donna ushering them inside. She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her hands twitched nervously as she clutched the rag in one hand and the dusting spray in the other.
“We’re sorry to interrupt your work,” Jeremy stated with his patent smile.
“Oh, um… I’m so sorry. Buford hates for me to meet anyone while cleaning, but when I saw you outside the door, I sort of panicked. You know how it is… like on TV when the cops show up.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, um… not that I watch much TV, you understand. Um… and not police shows. I guess… um… someone must have told me about them.” She swallowed nervously. “Um… maybe you won’t have to tell him I said anything about TV.”
She stared up at him with such worry that Jeremy felt sorry for her. It appeared Buford controlled everything she did. He was grateful she wasn’t a quick thinker, or she might lock her thoughts tighter instead of blurting out what she thought. “There’s no reason to mention that at all, Ms. Grissley.”
Her shoulders immediately slumped, and a rush of air left her lungs. “Oh, thank you, Detective. I… well… I’m just so dumb when it comes to what I should and shouldn’t say. Buford is always telling me that.”
“Well, ma’am,” Jeremy said with a warm smile, his voice soothing, “let’s not worry about Pastor Grissley right now. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation can stay just between us.”
Her posture eased, and the hint of tension in her face melted away. A soft smile brightened her features. “Oh, that would be nice. What can I do for you, Detectives?”
“We understand that Jed Harborrow attends your church,” Jeremy continued, his tone casual yet inviting.
“Oh yes,” she replied, her hands fluttering while holding the rag and spray bottle. He started coming not too long ago. He can’t make it every Sunday because I think his job sometimes requires weekend work. But when he can, he’s here.”
“We chatted with him briefly,” Jeremy said, tilting his head as if recalling, “but we forgot to ask—does his mother attend as well?”
She shook her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “No, although I’ve met her. She’s a lovely lady who attends the Baptist Church in Baytown. Buford reached out to Jed when his father passed. Just to be kind, you know. Since then, Jed’s been coming here.”
“It seems like he’s taken over his mother’s job of transporting elderly folks around,” Jeremy observed, his voice light but laced with curiosity.
“Oh yes,” she said earnestly. “But Jed wouldn’t call it a job. To him, it’s a mission—a mission of helping people. Buford is always preaching about how we should serve others.”
Jeremy nodded, his expression thoughtful. He sensed Pete stiffening beside him and almost smirked. His partner always let him take the reins with individuals who wouldn’t respond well to Pete’s gruff demeanor. “Jed mentioned several times that Pastor Grissley encourages helping others quietly, without seeking recognition.”
Her head bobbed enthusiastically, making her hair bounce around her face. “Oh yes. Buford has spent a lot of time mentoring Jed. He’s the one who inspired Jed to take up where his mother left off. Jed usually doesn’t talk about what he does, so I’m surprised he mentioned it to you.”
“Well,” Jeremy said with a soft chuckle, “his mother brought it up.”
Her eyes brightened, and a rosy blush crept up her cheeks. “Of course. How silly of me.” She clutched the rag in her hands nervously. “Buford’s big on church members helping others but keeping it private. It’s just his way.”
“And Jed takes sermon tracts to his work to hand out?”
“Why, yes!” She jerked her head around, then her gaze landed on a table nearby. “Like these,” she declared. Jeremy picked up several and flipped through them.
“Buford likes to type out his sermons, then makes copies that he lets our church members hand out to others. Jed takes some with him to work.” Her chest heaved as a satisfied sigh left her lungs. “He’s such a good man.”
Jeremy leaned back slightly, changing gears. “I noticed your receptionist wasn’t around. You do such a wonderful job tidying up the area. Do you fill in for a lot of roles here?”
She laughed and blushed while tucking a strand of hair into place. “I do what I can. Times are tough, you know. There’s not as much money coming in, and attendance has been down. Buford says it’s a problem everywhere. People aren’t as churchgoing as they used to be.”
“Well, he’s fortunate to have you,” Jeremy said, his voice carrying a note of admiration.
She preened slightly, her smile widening. “I like to stay busy. I answer the phones, greet people, keep track of what’s happening in our members’ lives, and clean the building. Let Buford know when someone needs a visit. Whatever needs doing.”
“So,” Jeremy probed gently, “there’s just not enough money coming in, you say?”
She nodded, her expression turning wistful. “It seems to go down every month, just like attendance. We have our faithful, but they can only give so much.”
“With an independent church like this, who manages the finances? Is that also one of your duties?”
Her hands flew up, flustered. “Oh, goodness no! Buford would never allow me to handle the money. He takes care of all that himself. After each Sunday, one of the elders sits with him to count the offerings. But, well… that doesn’t take very long these days.”
Jeremy’s voice softened. “I’m sure it’s difficult. As I said, Pastor Grissley is fortunate to have someone as dedicated as you.”
Her demeanor shifted, and her eyes darted around. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I haven’t finished cleaning yet, and Buford likes it done before he gets back from visiting the sick and the elderly in our community.”
“No, thank you, ma’am. You’ve been incredibly helpful,” Jeremy assured her, his tone warm and sincere.
Outside, as the detectives returned to their vehicle, Pete shot Jeremy a sidelong glance. “You really know how to lay on the charm, don’t you?”
Jeremy laughed, the sound deep and hearty. “If I’d let you growl at her, we wouldn’t have gotten a thing.”
Pete grunted, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fair enough. What do you say we check into some finances?”
Grinning, Jeremy nodded. “Let’s get the subpoena.”