The blonde clerk grinned. There seemed to be a flash of recognition as she directed Ray’s attention to a line of exquisite rings. “That depends on the carat weight of the diamond, its shape, color, and clarity. I can show you rings covering a price range from a thousand dollars on up. The average amount a man spends ranges from two to five thousand dollars. The rule of thumb is a month’s salary.” Unlocking the case, the sales clerk removed a tray of sparkling diamond rings set against black velvet. Placing the tray on the glass, she posed another question. “How would you describe your fiancée’s tastes?”
“Fiancée,” he nearly whispered the word to himself. Ray’s face glowed. “That sounds lovely.”
“Second marriage, I take it?”
Ray nodded. “Yes. My first wife died of cancer in 1992.”
She brought her hand instinctively up to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. But in the last few months, I’ve met someone special, the reason for my visit here today.”
“That’s wonderful,” the blonde enthused. Recall unexpectedly brightened her face. “You’re Reverend Ray from TV—The Road to Calvary!”
Caught off guard by the woman’s enthusiastic response, Ray fumbled for a reply. “Why yes, that’s our show, The Road to Calvary.”
“My aunt watches your show, and one day a couple of months ago, I was visiting, and we watched it together. And, Reverend—may I call you that?”
“Sure—”
“Reverend, we watched you call a man, Jim, you knew him by name, out from the pit of alcoholism that was destroying his life. It was the most moving thing I’d ever seen. And I never thought I’d say this, but I started watching regularly with my aunt. The work you do is truly amazing.”
“Well, thank you, Miss—”
The bubbly clerk extended her small hand across the glass countertop. “Sally. Sally Sullivan. It is a pleasure to meet you, Reverend. My aunt Julia won’t believe it! You said you’re getting engaged; that’s wonderful!” Stopping only long enough to catch a breath, Sally made a sweeping motion over the cases. “What kind of jewelry is your fiancée fond of?”
“Hmmm. Something simple, but elegant. Susannah—”
“Susannah Baker, the woman who helps on your show?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“This is good news. Pick out whatever ring you wish, Reverend, and I’ll make sure you get the best price.”
The sufficient money Ray had made as a consultant would pay for a lovely engagement ring. “Show me that one,” he said, smiling and pointing to a pillow-cut diamond for nearly $6,000.
“You have wonderful taste!”
Ever the preacher looking to spread the good news, Ray examined the ring. He pointed to another. “Let me see the solitaire diamond in yellow gold.” Ray stopped looking at the rings for a brief moment and glanced at Sally. “You know, we have a website and are looking at some new broadcast opportunities. Here’s my business card—one for you and one for Aunt Julia. We’re not broadcasting live right now, but here are the days and times we do prerecorded broadcasts. We’d love to have you in our studio audience!”
“She will be thrilled to have a personal invitation. My aunt has lots of friends, too; she’ll get the word out to all of them about the new programming time.”
“That would be much appreciated.” Ray took the solitaire diamond from Sally, slowly turning the gleaming jewel in his large hands. “Let me ask you something. Am I being old-fashioned in wanting this ring to be a surprise? Do most couples pick them out together nowadays? I want to do this right.”
“It’s about a fifty-fifty split in terms of what couples do. Trust me, Reverend, there is no wrong way to give a woman an engagement ring.”
22
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2002 LINCOLN, NEBRASKA NORTHEAST POLICE HEADQUARTERS
On her return, Lyle presented Linda with organized stacks of Pamela Watts’s correctional files, which they hoped would offer insights into her personality. Mounds of yellowed brittle paper and forms, including transcripts from the trial convicting her of forgery, lay in neatly arranged piles.
The timeline displayed on the white dry erase murder board was different than most. It didn’t span a few hours or days but crossed into the territory of years and the unsolved. Some pivotal event had made Pamela angry enough to blame and then possibly kill her families.
Linda paced before the board discussing Pamela’s check forgery conviction with Lyle and Amy. “The files provide the case number for Pamela’s crime. By Minnesota law, if a check forgery is over five hundred dollars, the crime is a felony, and the forger faces up to five years in prison.”
“Didn’t you say Pamela Watts was convicted of forging ten thousand dollars in checks?” Amy asked, pointing a pencil toward the board.
“Yes, and it involved a single check.” Linda directed her finger at the name William Gunderson. “Court documents indicate Pamela befriended a Mr. Gunderson, an elderly gentleman in his eighties, who was her neighbor. She gained his confidence and trust by doing grocery shopping and cleaning for him. He gave her a key, and she was able to obtain a blank check from his home, which she made payable to herself for ten thousand dollars.”
“She would’ve had to forge his name,” Lyle said, clasping hands behind his head.
“Which she did, and quite well.” Linda handed out copies of Gunderson’s real signature and Pamela’s forged check. “The forgery of Gunderson’s signature was nearly identical. She forged Gregory Hansen’s signature on the final bank withdrawal she made of $150,000, and that of every other pastor she embezzled from.”
Amy examined the documents and returned to her notes. “Pamela Watts didn’t serve anywhere near the maximum sentence.”
“No, she got three years. She was nineteen, and the jury felt she was young enough to redeem herself. She only served eighteen months in Shakopee, getting time off for good behavior. In fact, Pamela Watts was listed as a model prisoner.”
“Did the court records ever indicate why she forged Mr. Gunderson’s check? Was there an accomplice?” Lyle asked.
Linda pulled the court file. “Her attorney claimed Pamela got involved with the wrong crowd. But counsel had difficulty finding these friends, and they may never have existed.” The air reeked of sulfur, an odor Linda disliked as it gave her a headache. Detective Morris must be dieting again and having hard boiled eggs for lunch.
Lyle leaned on a desk, arms crossed. “Her crime wasn’t well conceived. She forged one check, and Gunderson caught her.”
“But Pamela bided her time, helping her neighbor for months before she stole anything. She had the patience to commit a serious crime. However, she completely misjudged that Gunderson would not press charges and back down just because she was a teenager. And she insisted that Gunderson had wanted her to have the money.” Linda clasped her hands behind her head. “She said on the stand it was all a misunderstanding. Mr. Gunderson might have been old, but he was no dummy. The money Pamela took was a substantial amount for him, and his attorney asked for the maximum sentence.”