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“I’ll be right over,” she said and hung up.
Heart still pounding, she filled Bridger and Tai in on the call.
Without a word, Bridger moved behind the counter and grabbed her jacket off the hook. “Let’s go.”
She stuck her head around back to tell Wes she’d be back in an hour and headed out to Bridger’s Jeep, her two bodyguards in tow. “You better not scare her,” Jane ordered as they drove the two blocks to the Kings’ house.
Bridger scoffed. “We’re not going to scare her. We’re the good guys.”
“She might not think so.”
“I’ll charm her,” he insisted. “I can do charming.”
“He can,” Tai agreed. “You wouldn’t know it, but he’s smooth when he wants to be.”
“This I’ve got to see.”
Despite having the morning from hell, Bridger’s grin did funny things to her stomach. “Oh man, I do love a challenge.”
Even with the vandalism, and Billy Peckham’s sad fate, that grin kept her tummy warm all the way to Rita King’s tidy ranch style home.
Smaller than many of the homes farther out of town, the Kings’ white two bedroom was beginning to show its age. As was the hunched woman who opened the door.
Jane was grateful for the way Bridger and Tai took care to conceal their handguns and check the place out without scaring the woman.
“I have coffee on,” Mrs. King said as she waved them inside.
Her welcoming words didn’t match her quavering tone. Jane ignored the offer and led the woman to a faded floral couch. “These are my friends. I thought we might need their help. I hope you don’t mind.” She introduced Bridger and Tai, who were, indeed charming.
Once they settled into the petite French chairs across the coffee table, she gave the older woman her full attention. “Tell me what has you so worried.”
At first, she thought Rita wasn’t going to answer. The woman pressed her thin lips together and avoided Jane’s gaze. Then she patted Jane’s hand. “I’m sorry to drag you into this, but you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. And you don’t judge. With that ex-husband of yours, Lord knows you’ve had troubles of your own.”
Jane forced herself to keep her expression neutral. Why the woman had to bring up Pete of all things…. She could practically see Bridger’s ears perking up.
“Yes. Well. That’s very flattering. What’s troubling you?”
“I should have said something earlier. I’ve suspected for a long time. I should have made certain.” Tears filled the woman’s eyes. She dashed them away with a shaking hand. “I’ve been praying on this ever since I heard about Pastor Zack’s troubles, but up ‘til now, I didn’t have the courage to seek the truth.”
Jane inched closer. “Mrs. King, what’s the problem? Whatever it is, we can help.”
The woman laughed sadly. “It’s too late for that. I’m not even sure what I have to say will help, but it’s the Christian thing to do.”
Jane eyed Bridger. He shook his head, just the tiniest movement. Wait, he seemed to be saying. She swallowed and concentrated on her breathing, giving the woman time.
Rita let out a shuddering breath. “The papers were there, in Warren’s old office. They were there all along.”
“What papers?”
“Records of the blackmail payments.” Now she met Jane’s eyes. “My husband was the blackmailer.”
Warren King had been dead for two years. Was the woman confused? Senile?
Rita’s thin shoulders rose as she sighed. “I had cancer. Not everyone knew it. We got behind on the medical bills, and then all of a sudden, Warren had them paid off. Told me not to worry. He said he sold some forgotten property his parents left him. But I knew it wasn’t true.” Her white curls bounced as she shook her head. “There was no forgotten property.”
She rose unsteadily and crossed the room, returning with a small brown ledger. “It’s all here. A record of every payment. I’m certain Warren planned to pay the pastor back, but God took him first.”
“When was that?” Bridger asked gently.
