The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(92)

“The police no longer consider Jared to be a suspect, and they have not asked him about the details of the day Carrie died.”

“And he hasn’t volunteered it? It might be useful for them, in trying to get a timeline of her movements.” But what did I know about detective work? I had stuck my nose into two murder cases in the last five months. I had thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I knew more about the underside of my ward than anyone else, and especially about the women’s world.

“Why should he volunteer anything to the police after the way they’ve treated him?”

“So they will be able to catch her killer,” I said. “Surely Jared wants that as much as anyone.” I couldn’t see Kelly anywhere behind him. Was she sleeping? Or was she too afraid to come near the door? Had her grandfather forbidden that, like so much else?

He glanced behind him, then closed the door and stepped out onto the porch with me. He sat on one of the steps and nodded for me to follow suit. I suppose this was a kind of reconciliation between us. I wasn’t worth the couch, but I could be seated here.

“I think Jared believes that it will only make Carrie look worse for the press,” he said. “After all this, he still cares about her name. After all that she did to him, and the way she left him, he wants to protect her. I don’t understand it, but I think my son loves her still.” He didn’t seem admiring, but neither was he disgusted.

I felt a strange peace at this moment. Love didn’t conquer all, but it endured through many things you’d think would kill it. Real love, which I had to admit I saw in Jared and Carrie’s marriage, despite all their problems.

I tried to remember the expression on Jared’s face when he had first appeared on our doorstep with Kelly in his arms that January morning. He’d been distraught. Whatever his relationship with Carrie had been, however odd and unlike any healthy marriage I had seen, he had loved her. And I couldn’t help but think, now, that she had loved him.

“And then there is Kelly and how it will affect her, all of this,” he added, nodding behind him.

“How is Kelly?” I asked. I wanted to see her so much. Just a glimpse of her messy hair, a hint of her fresh washed little girl smell, a shared smile over a brownie.

“We don’t need you to keep checking on us like some kind of Mormon child services. Jared and I are perfectly capable of taking care of her,” said Alex Helm. “She’s been sick the last couple of weeks. Last cold of the season, I guess, and I’ve kept her indoors for her own safety.” He glared at me, waiting for me to contradict his style of caregiving.

I didn’t. “I know you care about her. But it’s not the same as—well, as a mother.”

“I agree. She does need a mother. A better mother than the confused creature who gave birth to her. That is something Jared agrees on, and he is working on it. He has a new woman in mind to be Kelly’s mother, and his wife.”

I knew he had told Kelly he would find her a new mother, but it seemed crazy to think that Jared would marry so soon after Carrie’s funeral. Hadn’t we just been talking about how much he’d loved her? “So he’s dating again?” I asked, trying to find a way to make it sound more normal.

He let out a brief laugh. “Not dating. He’s courting. She’s met Kelly already and she has fallen in love with her. Now all Jared has to do is convince her that he will be a decent husband and he’s won. Women marry for children. Men marry for—” He didn’t finish, but made a crude hand gesture that it took me a moment to recognize meant the sex act. But I refused to blush. I was too old for that. “Well, who is she?” I asked.

Alex Helm shook his head. “So you can call her and tell her all the sordid details you think you know about Carrie and Jared? She’s heard enough on the news. But she met Jared herself and realized how wrong it all was. She is a lovely person and I won’t have you ruin what could be a perfect ending to this tragedy.”

There was no perfect ending to this tragedy. “Well, I hope Jared is happy. I think he deserves some happiness,” I said, the words grating, but not untrue. I was still trying to salvage things. I still needed Alex Helm to let Kelly come back to Primary at church.

He began to pick at the bits of debris on the steps, which were already nearly clean enough to eat off of. A bit of an aspen leaf. A pebble. A wrapper probably carried from the street to here, or possibly tossed by a child on the way home from school.

“Do you know, I told Jared not to marry Carrie?” he said as he collected the bits into his hand. “I knew about her past problems. I thought he could do better. But he insisted. He wanted so much to save her. And then she turned back to it. Whoring again.” He looked me in the eye, and I knew that he knew what Aaron Weston was, and what he had done. I wouldn’t have called it whoring, but I knew what he meant.

Alex Helm did a strange thing then, and put the pebble into his mouth, chewing at it like it was a bit of gum. There was a long, uncomfortable moment of sympathy between us. I hated that he seemed to be the one person who saw this picture the same way that I did. I did not like to think that I had so much in common with someone like him.

“I appreciate what you and Jared did for Carrie, giving her a safe haven,” I said, even if it hadn’t lasted long. I could see him moving the pebble around inside his mouth, which was distracting. “Jared was a good husband,” I admitted.