Page 45 of I'm Watching You

‘It’s a ladies circle group and their husbands. They’re studying references to marriage in the Bible and I thought it would be interesting to discuss a modern take on marriage. Domestic abuse is just one of the topics we’re looking at this summer.’

‘Right.’ She sipped her coffee. Compared to the espresso, it tasted like water. ‘I want to thank you again for all the help the church has given Sanctuary. We’ve really appreciated it.’

Pastor Richards’s smile was warm and there was a kindness about him. ‘Oh, we’re just happy to help.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked a tad embarrassed.

‘A friend of mine works for the police department,’ he said. ‘He told me a body was found behind your shelter.’

‘Yes. It was Harold Turner.’ She didn’t want to talk about the murder but knew it had to be addressed. ‘I don’t know why he was murdered in our backyard.’

The pastor nodded. ‘I’ve met his wife. Our church works with hers on several children’s charities. Lovely woman.’

She remembered her conversation with Jordan this morning. ‘I hope she has good support around her now.’

‘Oh, I’m sure she does. I want you to know this doesn’t change First Methodist’s commitment to the shelter. We believe in what you’re doing.’

Relief washed through her. ‘Thanks. That does mean a lot to me.’

Within minutes the group of couples gathered in the room. They all looked to be in their fifties and sixties. Each wore a wedding band. The minister made introductions and soon Lindsay stood before the group.

Lindsay had spoken to groups like this many times before. In fact, she had never turned down an opportunity to speak, believing that if she did, she might somehow miss the one person who needed her help.

‘I’m not going to give you a bunch of statistics or talk to you about the problem of domestic violence,’ Lindsay began. She smiled and tried to look relaxed and comfortable. ‘I’m here to tell you a story.’

She didn’t like to stand behind podiums. She liked to feel a connection with her audience, no matter how small it was. She clicked on the first slide. A picture of a young, smiling, dark-haired woman appeared on the white projection screen.

‘This is Pam when she was a senior in high school in Henderson, North Carolina. Pam was a smart girl. She made all As in high school and she married her high school sweetheart. His name was Matt. Pam got a good job as the executive secretary to an insurance president, and he would later say that Pam was hardworking and diligent and that everyone at the insurance company liked her. Five years ago, Pam and Matt moved to Richmond. She didn’t get another job, because Matt wanted her to stay home. They were trying to have a baby. Pam was thirty-five.

‘In December of last year, Pam showed up at workwearing dark glasses. And underneath the lenses was bruising. The company president asked Pam about her eyes and she explained that she’d been in a car accident. Two days later, police were called to her residence. The neighbor had heard shouting. But when police arrived Pam assured the officers that she was fine.’

Telling the story always made her sad. ‘Two days later she ended up in the emergency room. I met with her then and was able to convince her to spend a few nights at Sanctuary. I took her to the magistrate’s office and walked her through the protective order process. She seemed relieved.’

Pastor Richards frowned. ‘Did I read about this case in the paper?’

Lindsay nodded grimly. ‘You did. About nine months ago. And, in fact, the husband was just sentenced about a month ago.’ She sipped her coffee as she searched her notes for the spot where she’d left off.

‘We’ll say a prayer for them at the end of the meeting,’ the pastor said.

Lindsay smiled, not sure what to say to that. Maybe wherever Pam was now, the prayers would help. ‘We can offer board in our shelter for only thirty days. As the thirty days ticked away, Pam began to worry that she wouldn’t have a place to live. Her parents were gone, she’d made no friends, and she wasn’t close to her brothers, who had never liked her husband. Matt had seen to it that she’d stayed isolated. Anyway, Pam called Matt. And he came to the shelter and picked her up.’ She paused. ‘We found her body the next morning. She’d been beaten to death.’

A woman with short gray hair folded her arms over her chest. She glanced at her husband, a short, stocky man with a ruddy face. ‘I can tell you I wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior from my husband.’

Lindsay shrugged. ‘None of us knows what we’d do.’

The woman grinned as if she had all the answers. ‘I know what I’d do if my husband ever hit me – I’d shoot him.’

Nervous giggles rippled through the room.

Lindsay smiled. ‘Do you know how to boil a frog alive?’

Everyone sobered. ‘You put it in cold water and then you very slowly start to turn the heat up under the pot. When the frog realizes it’s too late and is about to be boiled alive, the heat overcomes the frog and kills it.’

Few in the room took the analogy that seriously. But when she raised her gaze, she realized Pastor Richards was staring at her with a renewed intensity that made her uncomfortable.

Zack and Warwick returned to the shelter. It was past six. Ruby had gone home and Sara was still processing the crime scene in Lindsay’s office.

The two detectives questioned neighbors but learned little other than that Lindsay kept a nice yard. Few knew the house was a shelter, though none worried about the number of cars that came and went during any given day. No one noticed anything unusual around five that morning.

After several hours, Zack and Warwick called it quits with the promise to meet again at headquarters by seven the next morning.

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