CHAPTER FOUR

When Reverend Sizemore left the offices of Gray Wolf, Barry stayed behind to speak with the men and visit his grandmother. His cousin, Carsen, was on the property as well, but she was usually busy writing some paper on a lost piece of Aztec or Mayan art or something else he didn’t understand.

“Barry, we’re damn glad you’re doing so well,” said Antoine, hugging the young man again.

“Me too,” he grinned. “For a while there, even I wasn’t sure I’d make it. In fact, I almost didn’t want to make it. I was lucky that Reverend Sizemore took an interest in me and pointed me to all the right resources. He’s a good man.”

“He seems like he is,” nodded Antoine. “Do you have any other insight for us on this? Were Shirley and Imelda really okay?”

“Oh, I think they were fine. Those two bickered about everything, but they were good friends. Shirley passed out when she heard. They took her to the emergency room for a cut and bump on her head when she fell.”

“We’ll send someone to speak with her,” said Miller.

“Be nice,” smirked Barry.

“What does that mean?” growled Miller.

“Well, sir, I’ve seen you ‘speak’ to people before, and sometimes, I mean, once in a while, you can be a little, well, grumpy.” Miller just stared at the young man as he laughed. “Seriously, sir. She’s a nice lady. She lives with her elderly mother and has been taking care of her for several years now. Even ended her engagement so that she could stay living with her mother.”

“I hear ‘ya, kid,” said Miller. “Gabe? Get your ass up. You’re going with me.”

“Me? What did I do wrong?”

“Just get up,” growled Miller.

Barry laughed at the brotherly affection, shaking his head. He was the son of Ruby’s youngest daughter. The youngest of all the grandchildren at thirty-one, he was her baby. But he missed out on having siblings, and most of his cousins were much older than him. He loved coming out to Belle Fleur so that he could get a sense of that sibling love.

“Barry, anything you can add to all of this?” asked Ghost.

“No, sir,” he said, shaking his head. “We told you everything about her.”

“Was she having any trouble with her husband or daughter?” asked Ian.

“Not that I’m aware of. They were both always at services and volunteered in the soup kitchen. He still works full-time as a maintenance man for one of the buildings downtown.”

“And the daughter?” asked Ian.

“She’s been working on finishing her college degree while working. She’s twenty-four or twenty-five, something like that. She’s just had to go slow because she’s paying for everything herself.”

“Did Imelda have a life insurance policy?” asked Ghost.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” he said, looking at the men. “I don’t think they have any benefits at the church. It’s pretty small and doesn’t have the money for that stuff.”

“Barry Henri Joseph Melancon! Where are you?” yelled the familiar voice echoing down the halls.

“Oh, oh, now I’m in trouble,” he laughed. “Back here, Grandma.”

Ruby rounded the corner, grabbing her youngest grandchild, hugging and kissing him. He laughed, hugging her back. The familiar scent of her perfume, the softness of her round, plump body making him feel nostalgic.

“Hi, Grandma,” he laughed.

“Let me look at you,” she said, pulling back. “Yep. You’re still as handsome as ever.”

“I was just coming to find you but needed to finish up here first,” he said. The others smiled at them, nodding at Ruby.

“Can I have my grandbaby?” she asked with her hand on her hip. The men laughed, lifting their hands in defense.

“He’s all yours, Miss Ruby,” smirked Ghost. “We know where to find you if we have more questions, Barry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, Barry, one more thing. The girl that quit suddenly, what was her name?” asked Code.

“Matilda Smith. She was quiet, really quiet. I tried speaking to her several times, but she always looked away from me. The Reverend just said that everyone has a past, and hers wasn’t very nice. Funny thing is, I think she loved working at the church, and she loved being around everyone, just in her own way.”

“Yet she left without notice, not calling anyone or writing to them. Why do you think that might be?” asked Code.

Nine stared at Code. It wasn’t like him to pry and push like this. He was their genius tech kid, albeit not a kid any longer. He usually stuck to that. If he were asking questions, there was a reason.

“I’m not sure, sir. Like I said, she didn’t speak to me very often. She didn’t really speak to anyone very often.” Code nodded at him.

“Thanks, Barry.”

When they heard the door close, assuring them that Barry and Ruby were gone, they all turned toward Code.

“What the fuck was that about?” asked Ghost.

“Matilda Smith doesn’t exist,” said Code. “She was paid in cash through the church. Her last known address was the church’s address. Whoever she is, whoever she was, she wasn’t Matilda Smith.”

“Alright, find out who she was,” said Nine. “See if you can find something at the church, anything to tell us who that woman was and where she went. Maybe she had an axe to grind with Imelda.”

“I’ll do it,” said Code confidently.

He left the room, the others slowly rising as well. They knew what their job was and what needed to happen. A woman was dead, her daughter and husband left with no answers. They had to give them something, anything, to help them understand the senselessness of her death.

“Pork? Go with Code to the church. See what you can find in the records,” said Ghost. Pork nodded, following Code down the hallway. “Mac? You and Luc see what you can find on Imelda and anyone else who works at the church. Ask around the neighborhood and see what you can dig up. Someone had to have seen something.”

“Got it,” said Mac, standing to leave with Luc.

“Trak and I will head down to the church’s soup kitchen and see if we can help out at lunch. Maybe someone there can tell us something good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ian. “Let’s hope it works.”