“They weren’t sure. The tests back then weren’t very accurate. Ellen and I went to the curb before rain washed away the stain. Even though she wasn’t positive the blood came from Lisa, Ellen stared at the spot for a long time and cried. I didn’t know what to say.” Mrs. Fairmont looked directly at me. “What would you have told her?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never lost a close family member. I hope God would give me a special grace for that time. Just loving her was probably the best thing you could do as her friend.”
Mrs. Fairmont placed her coffee cup on the counter. “Do you think God will give me a special grace for the time I’m going through?”
“That you will get better?”
She nodded.
It was a difficult question, and I didn’t want to give a casual answer. I believed with my whole heart in divine healing. Some people in our church had been healed of serious diseases; others died.
“I know God loves you,” I said slowly. “Asking for his help is up to you.”
Mrs. Fairmont smiled. “You sound like Gracie, only she puts a lot more feeling behind it. God brought her into my life to help me years ago, and it looks like he’s added you for reinforcement.”
“Yes ma’am. I want to help.”
“I know. Run along and get ready for work.”
I turned to leave.
“And promise you’ll tell me as soon as you can why you’re interested in Lisa Prescott’s disappearance,” Mrs. Fairmont said. “That’s an old wound, and it’s not right to open it up without a reason.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I returned the newspaper clippings to the folder so I could copy them at work. When I came upstairs, I saw the back of Mrs. Fairmont’s head above the top of a chair in the den.
“I’m leaving for work,” I said.
“Christine?” she called out without turning around.
“No ma’am. It’s Tami.” I stepped into the older woman’s line of sight. “Do you want to call her?”
Mrs. Fairmont stared intently at me. “No, no. I thought you were Christine. What were we talking about earlier? My brain has gotten fuzzy.”
“I asked you about Lisa Prescott.”
Mrs. Fairmont shook her head with a sad expression on her face. “You know, they never did find her body.”
“Yes ma’am, I know. Don’t worry about that today.”
All the way to work, I prayed for Mrs. Fairmont.
I WENT STRAIGHT TO ZACH’S OFFICE. His door was open, and papers were stacked on his desk. His tie was loosened around his neck. He was taking a sip of coffee when I entered.
“I didn’t know you drank coffee.”
“I’m a backslider,” he replied.
“No, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I’m not offended. I needed a boost since I came in to work a couple of hours ago. Getting a head start on this project for Mr. Appleby is the only way I can create enough time in my schedule for the Moses Jones case this afternoon.”
“Could I go alone?”
“No.” Zach smiled. “You’ll do all the talking, but Judge Cannon wouldn’t appreciate a law student showing up in his courtroom without a supervising attorney.”
“I did some research about the little girl, but the most interesting information came from Mrs. Fairmont.”
I handed him the initial article and waited for him to read it.
“What did Mrs. Fairmont say?”
Zach listened without taking notes while I talked. He took another sip of coffee before he spoke.
“It’s obvious. Moses Jones was hired by a man named Floyd Carpenter to dispose of Lisa Prescott’s body and was paid a shiny, silver dollar to do it. He dumped her in the Ogeechee River, and the little girl’s face has haunted him ever since.”
Hearing Zach succinctly state my fears made me shudder. “That’s awful.”
“Yes, if there’s a shred of truth to it.”
“But it makes sense. Why else would Moses say the things he does?”
“Because he may be in a permanent mental fog. Did you research our obligation to suggest half-baked theories implicating our client in a forty-year-old missing child case to the district attorney while trying to convince her to release him on probation on a trespassing charge?”
“No.”
“And you don’t have to.” Zach pushed his chair away from his desk. “Before I began my other work this morning, I spent time praying about the Jones case. Once my head cleared of the misguided curiosity that dominated our interview session with him yesterday, I realized we shouldn’t be pretending to be a cold-case investigation team. We’re not actors on a TV show. Moses Jones is a real person who trusts us to help him with an immediate problem.”