Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

“Solved her first big case. You must be proud.”

“I wish it wasn’t in the middle of all this other mess. She deserves a chance to shine.”

“What about her father?”

“I don’t think the DA is going to bring any charges—the most might be obstruction of justice, but I’m not sure he had any clue about what his wife and son really did.” He shrugged. “Or maybe he did and decided it was more important to protect his family.”

“He did try his best to protect Beth, like he promised Spencer he would.”

“Doctors said we can interview him tomorrow. But he said he’ll only talk if Harper’s there.”

Leah grimaced. “Could be the worst conversation of her life—”

“Don’t worry,” Luka told her. “I’ll be there with her, to protect her as best I can.”

Forty-Eight

The next morning, Harper met Luka at the station and drove him to Good Sam where the doctors had kept the Reverend overnight to monitor his concussion. She’d talked Luka into interviewing him at the hospital rather than the station in the hopes that he could avoid being seen by the media and creating more bad press for the church. It seemed the least she could do after disappointing him in every other way possible, including arresting her own mother and brother. What did he always say, life is a choice? Well, she guessed the whole world now knew what her choice was: her job over her family.

Jacob and Jonah were both at the Reverend’s bedside when they entered. Jacob jerked up from his chair, taking a step toward Harper as if planning to block her from seeing their father. “Haven’t you caused this family enough pain?”

But Jonah interceded. “Let them do their job,” he said, ushering Jacob out. Harper was stricken at the thought that Jonah might never forgive her, but as he crossed the threshold, he looked back and gave her a fleeting grimace of understanding. Close enough. She hauled in a breath. Now for the hard part.

The Reverend was sitting up in bed, already fully dressed in his usual clerical garb. Staples bristled through his hair—hair that for the first time Harper realized was actually more gray than blond. When had that happened?

“I did it,” he told them before she or Luka could say anything. “I confess, take full responsibility. I’ll take any deal you want if you let my wife and son go.”

Luka tapped his way to the chair beside the Reverend and dropped into it heavily, setting his crutches to one side. “I think we’re past that, sir,” he said, adopting a respectful tone. “Do you really think one more lie is going to make things right? Lies and secrets began all this, maybe it’s time to trust in the truth?”

For some reason both men stared at Harper. Finally, the Reverend sighed, somehow becoming smaller as the exhalation escaped him.

“You’ve got a smart boss here, Naomi. Make sure you learn everything you can from him.” He fussed with the bed controls, getting to a more comfortable position. Then he frowned, turning to Luka. “She’s not in trouble, is she? It’s not her fault—she did the right thing. It was me, a stubborn old man, blind to my own weakness, assuming my family was above man’s law. You can’t blame her.”

“She’s not in trouble,” Luka assured him. He nodded to Harper, who pulled out her phone and set it on the table above the bed.

“Fine then,” the Reverend said. “Let’s get started. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Did you know Spencer was going to fake his death?” Luka asked after providing the formal interview language to start things.

“Yes. He knew the Zapatas were closing in and enlisted my help to ensure both Tassi and Beth’s safety. I guess I failed them both. I knew nothing about the Ponzi scheme. Spence told me that the fund he ran back in Denver had a down quarter, that he hadn’t even known one of the investors represented the cartel, until they came and demanded their money and that he’d been on the run ever since.”

“When did you know your wife and son were involved in Spencer’s death?”

“I had no idea. I saw my wife at Spencer’s office. Then she drove off and picked up John at the far end of the parking lot. I assumed John was the one who pushed the dumpster at you in the alley. After that, I couldn’t say anything, I had to protect him—assaulting an officer is a serious charge.”

Harper leaned forward, itching to press him for more details—he’d been on the phone with Spencer; how could he not have heard anything?—but Luka caught her eye, reminding her that she was only here as a courtesy.

“Did you ask them why they were there?” Luka continued.

“John said that he’d learned of the Ponzi scheme and missing money, and since the church had been the recipient of some of the charity foundation’s funds, he wanted to see if there were any records that might reflect poorly on Holy Redeemer. But everything was already erased—Spencer had taken care of that before he came to see me Saturday night. I had no idea John had invested the church’s money.”

His chin dropped to his chest and his glasses slid down his nose. Harper couldn’t believe the change one night had wrought in him—gone was the haughty authority figure she’d known her entire life. In his place, all that was left was an old man, made vulnerable by shame and guilt.

“I guess I was a fool not to suspect anything. I honestly thought Spencer was trying to protect his family—both of them.” The Reverend looked up again, this time not at Luka but at Harper. “That’s all I was doing as well. Please, can I speak with my daughter? Alone? Then I’ll write out a complete statement, tell you everything I know.”

Luka glanced at her, asking her permission. She felt a bead of sweat slip down along her spine, and it had nothing to do