Decatur, Georgia, Tuesday, 2 February 1999, 11:29
Claire is mixing tracks in her studio when there’s a knock at the door and a woman who appears to be in her fifties steps in.
“Ms. Belmonte?” Claire nods. “I’m Melissa Dawkins. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, Ms. Dawkins.” Claire motions to a chair and Melissa sits. “I was surprised to hear from you. You didn’t go into a lot of details on the phone. What is it you’d like to know?”
“As I mentioned, I have some questions about Jimmy’s death that hopefully you can answer.”
“Understand, I learned of his death after the fact and wasn’t in contact with him when it happened. Frankly, I’m not sure what sparked your interest after all this time. It’s been ten years.”
“My brother, Hugh, advised me to let sleeping dogs lie, but I need to understand what happened to Jimmy. He wasn’t the sort to just kill himself.”
“He had a rather strong motivation.”
“That’s what I need to know. I went by the sheriff’s office in Houston County, and was told records of the case are sealed.”
“That’s correct.”
“One name keeps coming up — Christine Messner. I contacted a debt collector named Zachariah Messner who told me she’s dead. But when I asked about her at the church Jimmy attended, there seemed to be a lot of disagreement about that, even though there’s a headstone in the cemetery for her.”
“There’s quite a bit buried in that graveyard.”
“Then you’re not Christine Messner.”
“Not anymore.”
“What does that mean? When I went to the church one Sunday and started asking questions, people would get quiet when I mentioned either name. Finally, I met a young woman who said she might be able to help but needed to contact someone. She’s the one who gave me your number.”
“That was my friend, Jodie. I told her it was okay for you to contact me. I can answer your questions, but you aren’t going to like what I’ll tell you.”
“If you could at least tell me how Christine Messner is connected to Jimmy, that would be a start. If that’s you, then why is there a grave in Houston County for her?”
“The grave was placed there by my mother and stepfather, mainly to punish me. That’s another story that’s peripheral to my involvement with James Frederick, so I’ll spare you the details. I was named Christine Messner at birth and changed it after I came to Atlanta.”
“All right. And what was your involvement with Jimmy?”
“I knew your brother when I was a child and into my teens. I called him Deacon Frederick. The reason the sheriff couldn’t provide information is because I was a minor at the time of my involvement with Frederick and the records of my case were sealed by the judge.”
“Why would any of that need to be sealed? Why is there even a record?”
“If you’re absolutely certain you want to hear about it.”
“Of course.”
“Growing up, I always respected your brother. He was kind to me, gave me candy, took an interest in me. He made me feel like I mattered — to someone, at least.”
Melissa smiles. “That sounds like Jimmy.”
“I later realized he was like that with most of the kids, but at the time, I thought he’d singled me out. I had a very difficult upbringing with my mother and the man I believed to be my father.”
“Mr. Messner.”
Claire nods. “Neither of my parents had much use for me. Maybe that’s why I gravitated toward Deacon Frederick. He always seemed to make time for me.”
“That doesn’t explain why there are sealed records of your time with him.”
“Background. My relationship with my parents made me wish I could go live with Deacon Frederick. He always seemed more of a parent to me than they did.”
Melissa nods. “I understand.”
“When I was sixteen, my parents essentially gave me to Deacon Frederick.”
“What do you mean they gave you to him?”
“They concocted this idea that I wasn’t living up to how they had raised me and were punishing me for it. One night, Messner drove me to Frederick’s house and told me I now lived there.”
“And Jimmy just took you in? It sounds like you got what you wanted.”
“That’s what I thought. What I didn’t know was that Messner had promised Frederick that I’d marry him.”
“What? Why would Jimmy agree to something like that?”
“I don’t know what his motivation was — and probably never will. He took me in but left out the part about us getting married. I thought I was there to cook and clean and I was relieved I wasn’t in Messner’s household anymore.”
“How did this lead to sealed court records?”
“One night, Frederick finally revealed the real reason I was in his house. Then he raped me.”
Melissa covers her mouth and stares at Claire. “That doesn’t sound at all like my brother.”
Claire leans on her knees, toward Melissa.
“Your brother took advantage of a vulnerable teenage girl who trusted him. He led me on for several months, then raped me. When I tried to leave, he locked up all my things, and finally chained me to the wall in his guestroom to keep me in his house.”
“You’re describing some sort of monster. My brother was a decent and loving man. He wouldn’t have done anything like that.”
“I didn’t think so either, until it happened to me. I begged him to let me go, I even told him I wouldn’t tell anyone about the rape, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“If he wouldn’t let you go, then how did you get away?”
“I led him to believe I was ready to give in to him and when he dropped his guard, I knocked him out with a frying pan and escaped. From what I’ve heard since, I assume I wasn’t an isolated case. He had a very bad reputation among women in the congregation.”
“I don’t even recognize the man you’re describing.”
“That’s not the worst part. After I escaped, he and I both learned that James Frederick was my father.”
“Your— Father?”
“You want to know why he killed himself? It’s because he couldn’t live with the fact that he raped his own daughter. And the ironic part is, the girl I was would have forgiven him. I wouldn’t now, but Christine would have gladly done it.”
Melissa takes all this in, then rises.
“I’m sorry I came here. Hugh was right; I should never have pursued this. None of this sounds anything like Jimmy.”
She starts toward the door.
“If you think I’m lying, there’s an easy way to prove it.”
Melissa stops but doesn’t turn. “How’s that?”
“You and your brother could take DNA tests to compare to mine.”
Melissa considers this for a long moment.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Belmonte. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
She leaves.