Page 13 of Death in the New Year

“We seem to be hearing that from everyone,” said Trak.

“It’s the truth. She was a kind, gentle soul. How did you like the service?” he asked with a smile.

“It was different,” laughed Miller. “Interesting. We’re catholic. As you know, our masses are a bit more structured. Just different.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “I was raised in the Baptist church, and this is definitely different, but I like it. My wife and sons come on the weekends, but sometimes, I stop on my way home from work. It sets me right. Makes me feel good about where I’ve come from.”

“You should feel good about that,” said Trak.

“I appreciate that. I have to tell you, that day you chased me down, I told you I thought I was gonna die. What I didn’t tell you was that I was hoping I would die.”

“I know.” Trak’s face had no expression at all. He just stared at the young man.

“You knew? How did you know?” he asked.

“Because a man who wants to live doesn’t touch another man’s wife, not apologize, and then run from a man he knows in his heart is superior.”

Dave opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to argue, but he really had nothing to argue about. He was right. About everything. He knew that Lauren was married when he saw her in the bar of the restaurant. He saw how possessive the man was next to her, but he didn’t care. He wanted a fast way out. An excuse to check out of life. Strange how all of that brought him right back here, in front of the very man that scared him straight.

“I’m glad you have your life together now.”

“Thanks. Me too. Well, I need to get home. The boys will want to go out and throw the ball before dinner,” he smiled. “I’ll be back at services this Friday if you have any more questions.”

Miller and Trak nodded at the man, waving as he walked away.

“If nothing else comes from all this mess, at least we know we made a difference in that man’s life,” said Miller.

“Yes, but we still need to find our killer. Let’s go. We can see if any of the people in the room came up on facial recognition.” Trak started to turn and walk away, and Miller gripped his arm.

“Trak? You saved that young man’s life. You did good.” Trak stared at Miller for a moment, then nodded, walking toward the truck. Barry laughed, shaking his head.

“What?” frowned Miller.

“Oh, nothing. He’s a talker, that’s all.”

CHAPTER NINE

An hour later, Luc and Wilson were sitting on the hard pews, listening to the laughter and storytelling by the reverend. He had an amazing rapport with the people, and they all seemed to respect him.

When a man entered the back of the church, stumbling from one pew to the next, no one batted an eye. The ushers led him to a seat, allowing him to get warm. They even brought him some hot coffee.

“Who is that?” whispered Wilson to the older woman next to him.

“That’s JT. Don’t know his last name, but he’s been comin’ here for a while now. He gets sober then doesn’t.” She shook her head but smiled at the man, nodding his way.

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s drunk during church services, just coming in as if nothing is wrong?” asked Wilson.

“It would bother me if he were on the streets botherin’ folks or behind the wheel drunk and nearly killin’ everyone in his path. He has a job, has a small studio apartment, and the rest of his money he drinks. Reverend is workin’ with him, but God love him, I don’t know that I’d be any different.”

“How so?”

“Lost his wife and four children seven years ago. Hurricane got their minivan and swept it into the river with all of ‘em in there. The wife panicked and couldn’t get out with all the children. Precious babies all died. He was at work at the time. From what the reverend says, he didn’t take a drop before then.”

“I suppose I can understand that,” said Wilson.

“You suppose?” frowned the woman. “Are you perfect or somethin’? You never do anything wrong? Don’t yell at your wife for stupid reasons? You put away your own laundry, do the dishes, mop the floors for her, help her around the house?” Wilson was shocked by the woman’s tirade.

“I-I. No, ma’am. I don’t do all those things all the time. I never yell at my wife. I can guarantee that. But you’re right. I leave my laundry on the floor. I forget to thank her for the delicious meals she makes me and for just being the best wife a man could have. Thank you for reminding me of what I have.”

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