Page 52 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“I want an interview. I want you to justify why you’re bringing a monster back to our town.”

“I don’t have to justify anything to you. I’m agreeing to a request made by the California Department of Corrections. They’ve assured me that Joe is no longer a threat.”

“He was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. This flies in the face of that sentence.”

“It’s a compassionate release, Marcus. And I’m not going to argue with you. I’ve nothing more to say. I’ll have to ask you all to leave.”

“You’re the chief; we elected you. I’ll remind you that you got my vote. You owe us an explanation.”

“Having Joe come here has nothing to do with my official duties. Technically, you all are trespassing. I’m asking nicely that you leave.”

Hanna looked over Marcus’s shoulder as two more cars pulled up in front of her house. One was a state vehicle; the other was a plain sedan. She tensed. Was Marcus going to make this a circus? She recognized Tom Nelson and PO Giles as they got out of the state vehicle.

“Is this the parole officer?” Marcus turned to follow her gaze. He didn’t wait for an answer but strode away from Hanna’s porch toward PO Giles. While he fielded their questions, Nelson dodged around the crowd and stepped up to her door.

“Hello, Hanna.”

She thought about Tom’s story. Before her time as an officer, Tom had been a problem for police. A member of a local motorcycle gang, Tom was tatted up and used to like to get drunk and start fights. One day he started a fight in a bar. Other bikers joined in the brawl, and a man was stabbed to death. Tom was not charged with the killing, but according to his testimony, it changed his life.

Feeling responsible, he went to the man’s family and begged for forgiveness. He expected to be beat up, spit at, anything, buthe was completely forgiven. The family was professing Christians, and they took Tom to their church. He came to faith and completely turned his life around.

Today he was the local prison chaplain. He lived in Sonora and went to a different church than Hanna did, but she’d met him in various places and even listened to a couple of messages he gave about ministering to those behind bars. He believed anyone could change. God could redeem any soul, no matter how heinous the crime. Hanna believed that as well. At least she thought she did—until it came to Joe.

“Hi, Tom. You’re going to help Joe settle in?”

“Yes. I’ve often chatted with your father. I—”

“I don’t consider him my father. You can call him Joe. You talk to him? How is this the first I’ve heard of it?”

“My conversations and my relationships with inmates are private and guarded. I only mention it now because I’ve asked him if it was okay to tell you and he said yes.”

Hanna considered this. “You’ve been thinking about his release for a long time now.”

“I have. People change. Joe made mistakes and he admits to them. He is not a bad man, not now. I think he deserves some grace.”

“Hmmm.” Hanna’s attention shifted back to Marshall and Giles because Marshall’s voice had risen. “Should I try to stop that?” she asked Tom.

He shook his head. “Giles can take care of himself.”

He was correct. In another minute, Giles and the woman with him were headed their way and the TV crew was leaving.

“Hello again, Chief Keyes.” Giles approached.

“Hello. You can call me Hanna.”

“Call me Gordon.” They shook hands. He nodded to the woman. “This is Grace, part of the hospice team.”

Hanna shook Grace’s hand. “Why don’t you all come inside?”

Even as she stood aside so they could enter, turmoil gripped her. She arrested people like her father, glad to get them off the streets. Was Marcus right? Was she making a bad decision?

She cast one last glance at Marshall and the TV crew and then led the three people inside.

CHAPTER 27

BYWEDNESDAYNATHAN FELT STRETCHED.He’d offered to be with Hanna today and felt relieved that she’d declined. He’d barely slept the last few days. Things were going agonizingly slow with the murder investigation. He hoped to hear from the state lab on how quickly they’d get a DNA profile. While the coffee shop in Sonora was a good lead, it didn’t come without negatives. Their recordings were only kept thirty days, so there was no way to view any of the footage from months ago.

He’d showered, dressed, and come to the shop to scope out the clientele. He sat with a double-shot espresso, combing through his notes and looking up to people watch. Tech crimes had been working hard to trace the money the three women had sent, but it was virtually impossible. Catfish asked for gift cards precisely because they were difficult to trace. Diego/Franco/Gerard was slick and crafty. He used burner phones and VPNs for each victim because trying to trace the victim’s last message to the receiver had proven to be impossible.

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