The Pink Flamingo

“Want it printed out?” asked Jasmine.

“Oh, yes.” Greta felt lightheaded. “Can you also please do a general search on this Roman Pererra to see if he crops up in any other database?”

“A complete search will take time because some of the databases are slow getting back. I should have it done by the end of the day or early tomorrow. This record should be over at the printer.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the help.”

“That’s what I’m here for. You and Robert are welcome any time.”

The last words were accompanied by another sly wink that passed Greta by without her registering it. She turned and crossed the room to the common printer. She picked up the three sheets and looked again at the photo. There was no doubt. It was a younger Reverend Josiah Balfour.

She hadn’t noticed that “Robert” had followed.

“I take it the good reverend is not who he seems to be,” he commented.

“Apparently not,” she murmured absentmindedly.

“Seems like a long shot that the Balfour fellow is connected to your homicide. Could be all kinds of reasons why he’s going under a different name.”

“I know. I’ll have to check it out to see if there’s any connection, but with all the people we questioned, there was no hint that Toompas knew Balfour or ever went to a church. It’s interesting, and I’ll follow it up, but I see it as just another collateral issue from the Toompas case.”

“Let me know if you need any help. We owe you one for stumbling on the glitch in our IT system. My prints should never have come back with any message, except that there was no match. ‘Restricted Access’ means the prints are there and being hidden for some reason, which obviously raises suspicions. Someone’s going to be reamed for improper procedures and not checking as they should have.”

She remembered he was here for a different purpose than her own. “Good luck with finding anyone willing to take responsibility if the Service is run like our Sheriff’s Department.”

“Oh, although no one will take responsibility, I’ll see to it that it gets assigned. I need to make some calls on this. Good luck on your case.”

That being his cue he was leaving, she lowered Pererra’s report. “Thanks for suggesting we run through this. It never occurred to me to ask Jasmine about how she put in the requests.” Her words held more than a hint of self-recrimination.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Such things happen. Which is one reason it’s best to have more than one person on any investigation, to cross-check on each other and not miss anything.”

They walked out of the records room back to the front of the office. Simpson signed out, dropped off his visitor’s badge, and, with a nod, pulled out his cell phone while walking away.

Greta stood there, alternately evaluating whether she should be irritated or disappointed at herself for not checking the fingerprint problem on her own. She wondered what her next step should be with Pererra/Balfour. With the former, she decided to let herself off the hook. With the latter, it was obvious; she would check out Balfour directly. Her first rush of elation on seeing his record was replaced by rational reflection.

She told herself, Just because he’s going under a different name doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Toompas. And if he did, how do I find it out? Should I let Conners know all this?

She decided no on that one. She didn’t have anything, except a local preacher with an unsavory past.

She resolved to do some checking on Balfour before mentioning him to anyone else. There was the deeper records search Jasmine was doing for her, and then she would find an excuse to talk to Balfour. Something about the community programs might be the easiest method of approach.

CHAPTER 15

While she waited to hear from Jasmine, Greta checked out Balfour in coast newspapers. She found references stretching back five years, including the notice of a new preacher at the Church of God Arising. He had been “called” to minister to the people of Tillamook County, and the brief bio said his previous church was near Memphis, Tennessee. No mention of family, birthplace, or anything else. Several articles acknowledged him in community activities, such as charitable fundraising, ecumenical services, and judging at a local art festival.

Next, she searched nationwide for both names. She found only three Josiah Balfours, none of whom matched the Balfour of Tillamook County. Of the three Roman Pererras, one was the right age and listed an Ohio address, but the entry lacked the dates of residence. One database linked to potential relatives. She printed out those, in case she wanted to check further.

Late that day Greta got a call from Jasmine, who had found one additional record: an unpaid speeding ticket in Davenport, Iowa, seven years ago. Now, Greta had him located in Ohio until ten years ago and involved in various questionable activities. There was nothing for three years until a possible Iowa ticket, and then Pererra showed up in Tillamook five years ago with a new name and profession.

What was he doing in those missing years? she wondered.

Having exhausted the digital sources, during the next week she started the footwork. She drove by his church in Bay City. He lived in a house behind the church. She had never visited the neighborhood—Bay City was north of Tillamook and not part of any route she would have driven. It was a typical lower-middle-class area of smaller, well-maintained houses. The church sat at the end of the street. It looked like any of tens of thousands of local churches anywhere in the United States. From the outside, it appeared good-sized with evidence of several well-maintained additions. It had a small, neat lawn, flowerbeds, and a sign in front for announcements. The current letters read, “IF YOU HAVE NOT YET COME TO JESUS, ASK YOURSELF WHY.” The house itself was nicer than she’d expected and a cut above the average house in that area.

She rechecked news articles for names of people associated with his previous activities and came up with scores of names—pastors of other denominations, local politicians and business people, members of his church, and law enforcement agencies in the area—including Sheriff Wallace and the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department.

Greta figured to check with the pastors first. She concocted plausible reasons to visit several of them, using her interest in community activities as the excuse. She asked for their advice on dealing with local troubled youths and hinted at volunteering to give talks to youth groups. At an opportune moment, she segued the topic to other pastors in the town, among them Josiah Balfour. A Lutheran pastor praised Balfour’s fervor, although Greta perceived that he thought Balfour’s preaching style to be a little too intense. The Seventh Day Adventist minister had nothing good to say about any other denomination, so Greta discarded his opinion of Balfour. The Methodist commented that Balfour had a devoted congregation and that the Church of God Arising, though not affiliated with a major denomination, had a steadily growing congregation.

When questioning three church members she randomly chose, it proved harder to find plausible reasons for a county deputy sheriff’s interest in Balfour. She settled on claiming that she was surveying citizen feedback on ways to address crime in the county. Then she tried to direct the discussion to probe for information on Balfour. In one case, the woman expressed no interest in talking with her about any topic. In a second case, the man acknowledged attending the church and thought Balfour a cracker-jack preacher of the old school. The third church member thanked God every day for Pastor Josiah counseling her husband to quit drinking and stop beating her.