The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(71)

“Thank you,” Judy whispered. Her head went down, and it seemed as if whatever strength she had mustered up to ask me for this favor was gone now.

“We’re going to try to get custody of Kelly,” said Aaron. “It’s a long shot, according to our lawyers, but at the very least, we want Kelly to know that we love her. And if we don’t get custody, we’re going to try for mandated visitation as grandparents. We don’t want Kelly to hear only from her father and grandfather about her mother. Or about anything else, for that matter. I don’t like how either of them think about the world.”

“Well, I hope you do get custody,” I said honestly.

His eyes widened and I had the sense that he was taking note of this in his mind, which had the capacity to remember everything. He was a formidable opponent, I thought, and wondered who would win if he and Alex Helm were set against each other. It made me happy to think that Aaron Weston was the stronger of the two. He was more self-possessed and he would certainly sound better, more reasonable, to the average person in Utah.

“Would you be willing to give that opinion of the situation in court?” Aaron asked.

I considered for a long moment, then nodded. The danger was that I would fail and become an enemy of Jared and Alex Helm, and then I would have no access to Kelly at all, but I had to take a chance to get her into a better situation.

“That is more than we had hoped for,” said Aaron. The warmth of emotion in his voice surprised me. “But I still have to ask about the funeral. We need to get the programs printed and there aren’t very many speakers as it is.”

“Kurt is speaking, isn’t he?” I said.

Aaron nodded. “But I thought a woman’s perspective would be … kinder.”

I thought again about Jared and Alex Helm, and I shook my head. “I think it’s best if I don’t speak at the funeral at this point. I’d like to make sure I can see Kelly until the trial. They’ve been asking me to come in and take care of her when they have to go out. It’s been my one way of making sure she is well.”

Aaron’s hopeful smile disappeared, but he patted Judy’s shoulder. “We can’t fault her for that.”

“No,” she said softly.

“We believe Carrie was coming home to Kelly that night. That had to be why she was in Wendover,” said Aaron.

“Have the police said when she was killed?” I asked.

“Yes. They told us it was just hours before they found the body,” said Aaron. “I know it hasn’t been reported on the news, but I think it will all come out soon enough.”

So if Jared Helm had killed Carrie, he must have cold-bloodedly driven out to meet her somewhere and planned to do it. I wasn’t sure it fit with the image I had of Jared in my mind. I believed he could have killed her in anger, but this? Maybe it was someone else, after all. “I am so sorry.” What else could I say to her parents?

“Jared claims he never left the house that night. He claims that the reporters have footage of the whole night. He couldn’t have gotten out of the house without being seen,” said Aaron. His face was dark with anger. “But somehow, he is responsible even so. He is the one who drove her to do what she did,” Aaron continued. “And it doesn’t matter whose hand was on her neck when she died. It was his fault for forcing her to it.”

“Well, God doesn’t see responsibility the same way that the law does,” I admitted.

Aaron took a deep breath, gave me a searching look, and nodded. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then?” said Aaron.

I nodded and stood, then showed them out. I felt a headache coming on, and went to take some Advil before I headed over to babysit Kelly, all the while feeling a knot in my stomach over my promise to testify against her father in a custody dispute with the Westons. Was I right or wrong? I had been wrong so many times in this case that I couldn’t trust my instincts anymore. All I knew was that I loved Kelly and wanted the best for her.

We spent several hours playing with Barbies, something I had never done with my boys. They had scorned dolls, though they had played with action figures plenty. Kelly’s Barbies had lots of fancy dresses, but Kelly wasn’t very interested in changing their outfits. She preferred acting out different escape-from-jail story lines. We played them over and over again as I tried to guide her away from shootouts and other violent scenarios, but my heart went colder and colder as I thought of what this house had become for her.

When Jared and Alex came home, they called for Kelly and she jumped. Her face went expressionless and she hurriedly put her Barbies into their box. “Grandpa doesn’t like Barbies,” she told me. “He says their clothes are too small and too tight.”

She scurried downstairs while I put the Barbie box under her bed. I went down after her, in time to see Alex Helm showing Kelly the black dress that had been purchased for her to wear for her mother’s funeral. She put it on dutifully in the bathroom, then came down to show it off. It looked too big for her, boxy at the top, and went down to her ankles, but it was modest, at the very least. There wasn’t a hint of lace or any feminine detailing on it. I supposed Kelly would never wear it again after this, but still, it seemed a strange dress for a little girl.

“Perfect,” said Alex. “You look like an angel. Now go take it off and wash your hands for dinner.” He turned to me and dismissed me. “Thank you, Sister Wallheim. We’ll see you at the funeral.”