State of Anger by Thomas L. Scott

Author:Thomas L. Scott [Scott, Thomas L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Goodreads: 24968017
Publisher: ThomasScottBooks.com
Published: 2012-05-02T05:00:00+00:00

They walked into the chapel and sat next to each other in the first pew. Virgil had little if any preconceived notions of what a female pastor may look like, but if he had, Amy Frechette would fit the bill with perfection. He guessed her age a little younger than his own, perhaps thirty-five or so. She wore a matching plain brown skirt and blazer over a white turtleneck sweater.

“I haven’t seen him in over a week. I don’t know what’s going on.” Her voice was strong but the skin under her chin trembled when she spoke. “You’re the best friend he’s got, Detective.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Her unexpected smile caught him off guard, but then the light went out of her expression, replaced by something dark and defensive. “You’ve not been kind to him,” she said. “He thinks of you like a brother.”

“I’m here on another matter, Ms. Frechette. But if you don’t mind me asking, how do you know Murton, and by extension, his relationship with me?”

She shook her head and chuckled, then turned in the pew so she was facing him. “How do I know about your relationship? I guess Murton hasn’t been exaggerating when he speaks of your feelings for him. We’ve been living together for over a year, Detective. I guess I somehow thought you knew that.”

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t. In fact, I think there are a number of things I don’t know about Murton these days.”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?” she said.

“What do you know about a man by the name of Franklin Dugan?”

“Who?”

“I am investigating a series of murders. One of the victims was a man named Franklin Dugan. He was the President of Sunrise Bank. Murt is either trying to insert himself into the investigation for reasons I can’t begin to understand, or he’s trying to extricate himself from it. I can’t tell which. Or maybe he’s guilty of something again, and he’s—”

“What? What do you mean guilty of something again?” she said, the anger in her voice evident.

“If you’ve lived with him for over a year, then I assume you know of his record. He spent some time at Westville for assault. He beat a man, almost to death.”

She pointed her finger at him. “Murton carries images around in his head from the war that leave him little room for peace. The man he beat was a drug dealer who tried to steal from him. I make no excuses for his past behavior, Detective, but I don’t delude myself into thinking it was something it was not. He’s paid his debt to society. Why not leave him be?”

Virgil decided to try a different direction. “Tell me about Samuel Pate.”

“What about him?”

“You sold him your church. Why?”

She pinched her lips together and shook her head the way a grade school teacher might if she were addressing the slow student at the back of the classroom. “First of all, Detective, you don’t sell a church. No one does.

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