Nickel City Crossfire, Gary Ross [ebook reader for pc and android txt] 📗

was lucky not to be charged. So when a detective came to see me later that day, he asked questions that fit the narrative, and I kept the truth to myself.”

“Do you know why this happened to you and Odell?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell us about it.”

“For many years I was the secretary at my church. I took minutes at various meetings, handled basic correspondence, did the newsletter, and maintained the church’s Facebook page. All pretty routine stuff because I can write and type fast. I’m good with computers and know my way around the web.”

“Does the church have much of a web presence beyond Facebook?”

“There’s a website but it hasn’t been updated for a long time. Mostly, we used the domain and space from the provider for email and cloud storage.” No longer speaking of the night her fiancé was murdered, Keisha seemed almost relaxed, matter-of-fact. “The church has a general email in its domain, which I managed as part of my duties. Dr. Markham has a personal email. So did I. Also his wife, the deacon, and deaconess board chairs, the building committee chair, the youth group mentor, the congregation president, and the treasurer.”

“Sounds like a lot of bureaucracy for a church with, what, five hundred members?”

“More or less, but Dr. Markham has visions of getting bigger and branching out. He’d like to have a megachurch, not in the Texas sense with five thousand members, but enough to have two morning services and one evening service on Sunday and eventually open a branch up in Niagara Falls. He said we needed a solid administrative structure to do that.”

“How could he manage three services in Buffalo and one or two in the Falls?”

“Oh, Mrs. Markham is ordained too. She would handle Niagara County.”

Neither of the Markhams had mentioned that she was a minister too. I thought about that for a moment. “All that in addition to her work at the Sermon on the Mount Community Development Foundation?”

“Oh, she’s dynamic. She preaches once every couple of months. She’s the deputy choirmaster, back-up organist, and a community leader. When I was young I wanted to be just like her.” Keisha sighed. “But it’s funny you should mention the foundation. That’s where all this started. Two months ago we got an email I thought was from a church member. It was a forward with documents attached. Sometimes when things needed a response I’d save them to a flash drive and take them home to work on them later. I did that with these files. When I opened them I skimmed paragraphs about selling foundation properties for huge profits. I didn’t know what it was about but I figured the sender had been spoofed.”

“Who was the sender?”

“Raheem Harris. He’s only fourteen and addicted to PlayStation. His mother is a friend of mine.” She shrugged. “The spoofing was no accident but I figured the real sender had posted it to the wrong church account. So I read through the docs more closely. This time I recognized the addresses on Best and Virginia and realized somebody was planning to force the foundation out of the benevolent landlord business. It was some company named—”

“FBF, Flame Bright Fame,” I said.

“Yes. I’d never heard of them. I couldn’t find much about them on the web other than they were in Detroit, which made no sense for something small in Buffalo.” Her own coffee was now cold enough for her to finish it in a long swallow. She set the empty cup back on the table. “I made back-up copies of all the files because I didn’t know what was going on and wanted a record. Then I went back into the church email and saw the message was gone.”

“Who had access to that email?”

“The Markhams, the board chairs, the treasurer, and a couple of committee chairs.”

“Did you check the log-in history to see who deleted the original?”

“I tried but the whole thing had been wiped, going back weeks.”

“Whoever did it had to have seen you opened the email too. Did you tell the Markhams?”

“Not at first, but then I started getting calls on my cell saying I’d better not tell anybody what I knew. Different men. No voices I recognized, then. One of them said I couldn’t possibly understand what I was reading. Another told me this business proposal could fall apart and bankrupt the church if it got out early so if I loved my church I’d keep it to myself. Somebody else said, ‘It would be a shame, Sugar Notch, if your folks got hurt.’”

“Sugar Notch,” I said. “So you knew at Wylie’s it was the same man.”

“Yes. I was insulted and mad but didn’t take it seriously until the Sunday my purse disappeared at the monthly church luncheon and later turned up in the men’s room. The only things missing were the two flash drives I kept in it. That’s when I went to Mrs. Markham. I told her about the threats and the theft. I thought the foundation was in trouble. I resigned as church secretary. I knew it couldn’t be everybody but the idea that somebody in my worship family could harm me or my folks was like acid poured on my faith. Once I got home, I did my best to hide the other files. If somebody got in and stole my computer, they wouldn’t find any reason to hurt us. The next Sunday, during announcements, Dr. Markham told everybody I was retiring from my post as secretary because the demands of my job were so great. They gave me a standing ovation. I thought that was the end of it.”

“Until you and Odell were forced into the stadium lot.”

“Yes. More threats came after I got out, from the same man, so I ran.” Lips pressed together, she closed her eyes, squeezing out more tears. “I tried to get off the grid. I was homeless for a week or so, roaming the streets, going from one shelter to another because I was afraid if