then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.”
Okay. I blew out my breath. I might never figure out who sent me this message, but one thing was clear: God was directly calling me to be more involved with the whole Nicole/sex trafficking deal. I couldn’t read it as anything else. It was time to take up my shield of faith. To buckle the belt of truth around my waist. To pray like I never had before.
I knew Mona wouldn’t be in the church office today, because she always took Mondays off. I wasn’t sure if Houston would be there either, especially this early in the morning, but his pickup was in its usual spot under the pecan trees.
I decided to park in front of my shop and walk over to the church since the heat hadn’t cranked up too much yet.
“You stay here for a minute, Annie.” I left the van running with the air conditioning on so she wouldn’t get overheated while I ran over to the church for five minutes. “I’ll be right back, and then we’ll go in the shop, okay?”
I grabbed the envelope with the poem in it, leaving my purse and everything else in the van. It was hotter outside than I thought, and I was a sweaty mess by the time I had walked the fifty yards or so to the church. I knew Houston preferred to use the side door during the week instead of leaving the main doors of the church unlocked. I started to reach for the doorknob when I heard voices. Angry voices.
“You think you’re going to get away with this because you’re a preacher, don’t you?”
Was that Brandon’s voice?
I backed away from the door.
I could hear Houston’s voice reply, but couldn’t make out what he said.
Was Brandon threatening him? Should I call someone? I edged into the small space between the hawthorn bush and the outside wall of the church. Why had I left my purse in the car?
“I’ll tell you one thing, preacher man, I’m not going to take the rap for this. I’m finally going somewhere in life, and I’m not going to let you ruin it.”
I heard a crash and a series of thumps. Houston screaming something.
Dear God, what was happening in there? I pressed myself flat between the bush and the wall.
Brandon came barreling out of the door, swearing.
I held my breath.
He looked wildly around the parking lot, then took off toward my van.
Oh, no. I was stuck. I couldn’t let Brandon see me, but what if he tried to steal my van? And what if he had injured Houston?
I had to check on Houston. What if he was in there bleeding or…or worse? Besides, Annie would never let Brandon in the vehicle. I could hear her frenzied barking even from here.
I edged toward the church door, keeping my eye on Brandon. No telling what he would do, especially if he was high. God, please send someone to help us. We need you. Be our shield—
Crash! The front window of my shop shattered.
“That’s what happens to liars!” Brandon screamed. He heaved another rock through the opening, then took off running down the sidewalk.
I gaped at him, too stunned to do anything else, as he veered crazily off the sidewalk and across the street in front of an oncoming UPS truck.
There was no way the driver would have time to—
“Stop!” I yelled. But even as the words were ripped out of my mouth, I watched Brandon’s body fly through the air.
He landed in a crumpled heap on the pavement.
Dear God.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t run—but I had to. Had to find help. I lunged out from behind the bushes, the branches tearing at my clothes. I had to get to my phone. Had to call 911.
I was halfway across the parking lot when the driver of the truck got out, his phone in his hand.
Oh, thank God. Brandon would be cared for.
I had to check on Houston.
Chapter Nineteen
“Houston!” I staggered into the church. “Where are you?”
“In here.” His voice was weak.
I followed the sound to his study and found him sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. A sour smell lingered in the room.
“Are you okay? Brandon—”
He raised his bruised face to look at me and groaned. “Go away, Callie—”
“No! Brandon is—I think he’s dead, Houston.” My legs started to shake, and I grabbed the edge of his desk. “He—it was an accident. A rock. He threw a rock and—”
I was babbling about a rock. Again. But this time the rock hadn’t hit my head. It had shattered my—
Houston braced his hands on his desk and pushed his chair away from it. “What are you—”
The sirens began to wail.
“Outside.” I gulped. “He ran across the street and a truck…oh, dear God. Jesus, please help us.”
Horror filled Houston’s eyes. He pushed to his feet to look out of his office window at the scene, then sagged against the window frame. “No. Please no,” he whispered.
The flashing lights bouncing off the window added to the surreal feeling. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Todd was on duty today. Todd would help.
“We have to go see what’s happening.”
“Oh, God.” Houston sank down onto the floor. “I can’t, Callie.”
“I have to.” I have to. I have to see Todd. I have to tell my brother Jason. I have to get my phone. I have to make Annie stop barking. Was Brandon dead?
I stood on the sidewalk amidst the shattered glass of my shop window, watching as the ambulance pulled away.
Todd put his arm around me. “He was dead on impact, Callie. Never had a chance.”
I burrowed into his chest, his badge pressing painfully into my cheek. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it.”
“I’m so sorry you had to witness it.” Todd stroked my back. “He must have been high.”
I pulled away and ran a shaky hand over my hair. “I don’t know. When I saw him come out of the church—”
“You already told Earl, I assume? He took your official eyewitness description?”
“Yes.” But I didn’t tell him about Houston and Brandon’s argument. After all, I hadn’t seen anything happen.
“Then let’s get you out of here. You don’t need to be involved in this anymore right now.” He scraped up some glass with the side of his boot. “I’ll get someone out here to clean this up and board up your window.”
I nodded, feeling like I was in shock.
“You can tell me the whole thing later, okay?” He cupped my cheek. “I wish I could stay with you right now, sweetheart, but I’m on duty until this evening.”
“Okay.”
“Hang in there with me.” He took my wrist and felt my pulse for a few seconds. “Do you feel lightheaded?”
Sort of. Maybe. “I want to go home, I think.”
“I can take a minute to follow you home. Or do you want to hang out at Mona’s for a while?”
Aunt Dot. I needed to see my aunt.
“I want to go see Aunt Dot. But what about Houston?”
Todd glanced in the direction of the church. “What about him?”
“It looked like he and Brandon had a fight. But it’s not that. It’s…something’s wrong with Houston, Todd.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know he has been upset about Nicole. But there’s more than that. And Brandon was accusing him of…something.”
I sucked in my breath, remembering. Brandon, threatening me in my shop. Brandon, screaming at Todd that same day, going off like a crazy person about—
Oh, no. It couldn’t be, could it?
I clutched Todd’s arm. “Do you remember when Brandon was in my shop, and he screamed something about a preacher shooting someone? Do you think—?”
Todd shook his head. “Brandon wasn’t in his right mind. I’ve heard people spouting all kinds of delusional things when they’re off their rocker.”
“Do you think he saw whoever Tased the guy that I found o
n my steps that morning?”
“Brandon? Maybe.” Todd edged me over to my van. “He was probably involved in way more stuff than we’ll ever know.”
I climbed in the driver’s seat, then turned to look at him. “So you don’t think—”
Todd sighed. “No. I don’t think Houston is involved in this in any way. Why would he be, for one thing? Houston doesn’t exactly strike me as a murderer.”
I winced. Me neither. But still…
“I’m going to follow you over to Willowbough. You need a cup of tea and a nice long visit with your aunt. Promise me you’ll stay there with her until I’m off. I don’t think you should go home by yourself right now.”
“I will.”
Annie leapt up into the van with me. I stroked her soft head, then gave her a hug, burying my face in her fluffy neck until I could regroup. I pulled back finally to meet Todd’s gaze, feeling cold and shaky even though it was 100 degrees out. “Thank you for letting Annie stay with me for the past few days.”
I turned away to hide the tears that had suddenly welled up, but Todd didn’t miss much.
“Aww, Callie.” He smoothed a strand of hair back behind my ear. “It’s going to be all right, sweetheart. We’ll get through this. Would it help for Annie to stay with you tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll take her with me now and then I’ll swing by and bring her to you after I get off.”
“It’s like a nightmare, Auntie.” I sat in Aunt Dot’s room, feeling like I’d been the one hit by a truck.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I thought he was such a sweet young man. And when you told me the other day who he really was, I started praying for him because I thought to myself, ‘Dot, if there’s ever been a young man who needed prayers more than Jason, it’s that young man.’”
I felt sick. “He slipped into eternity today, Auntie. Just like that.”
She shook her head. “I can hardly fathom it.”
I stared at the floor.
“You know, Callie, I used to be pretty hard-nosed about things. But see this?” She waited until I looked up, then picked her crocheting up off her lap. “To someone who doesn’t know how to crochet, this looks hopelessly difficult. Where does it begin and end? And how do you make all of those loops?”
She crocheted a round or two.
I waited.
“Can you tell what I’m making, darlin’?”
“Looks like the beginning of a pot holder. Or maybe a baby blanket.” I’d made enough of those myself to recognize what they looked like in the beginning stages.
She nodded. “But only I know the finished product I have in mind. The exact colors, the size, the types of stitches, the patterns.”
I knew my aunt well enough to predict where she was going with this.
“I think our lives are like this, only God is the one holding the crochet hook. He fashions our lives according to the design He has in mind.” She pulled her glasses down to peer at me over the top of them. “And now that I’ve lived longer and seen more, I think that God is much more merciful in His dealings with us than we think.”
I pondered that. “So, you think Brandon—”
“I don’t know. But I do know that he heard the gospel at least once. Because I told him myself.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“One night when y’all were down here for the summer, he and Jason came over to my house one evening. Your Uncle Garth was still alive then, and we all sat around the table talking.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“No, you weren’t there. You had gone to a sleepover or something.” She clasped her hands together in her lap on top of her crochet work. “Anyway, I think it was before the boys had gotten into any serious scrapes, but I could sense in my spirit that Brandon was a troubled young man.”
Leave it to Aunt Dot to have compassion on a scoundrel, even then.
“Garth had taken the boys up to the attic to move some boxes around for him. I think that’s when he was clearing it out to make his space for doing his model airplanes.”
I nodded.
“Anyway, after they came back down, we had dinner, and I remember I had made oatmeal cookies for dessert. Brandon had never had homemade cookies, and I thought he was going to eat them all.”
Against my will, sympathy for the life Brandon had lived as a child crept in to replace the disgust I had been feeling.
“Garth and Jason headed out to the yard after a while, but Brandon sat at my table, eating cookies and pouring his heart out.” She gazed out past me, as if picturing the scene. “I shared the hope of the gospel with him that night.”
What should I say to that?
“I’m going to have to tell Jason what happened.” I blew out my breath.
“Oh, no. That will be so hard for him.”
Chapter Twenty
I couldn’t call Jason, so I had to wait until he called me.
I wasn’t sure where my brother was in his relationship with Brandon. After all, Brandon had ratted him out and then somehow gotten out of the same sentence Jason was serving.
Jason usually called on the weekend if he could, but he hadn’t called and it was Monday night.
“Please, Lord,” I prayed. “Have Jason call me soon.”
I didn’t know why I was feeling such urgency to talk to Jason about Brandon’s death, but somehow, I knew I had to.
“Come on, Annie,” I said, putting my phone in my pocket. “You, too, pugs. Let’s go outside.”
Annie bolted past me out the front door, probably eager to find her new friend Sherm. In the few days she’d stayed with me, she had taken a liking to my elderly neighbor. The pugs waddled through the door behind me, snuffling and puffing their excitement.
I smiled, watching Annie trying to gain Sherm’s undivided attention. He was using some sort of tool to pick up the green pecans that had blown off the trees earlier. Annie circled him, then repeatedly pawed at his pecan picker-upper until he laughed and laid it aside to ruffle her ears.
“Beautiful evenin’,” he called to me.
I nodded, taking a deep breath. It was a gorgeous evening. The earlier wind had blown away most of the humidity, and the sun was setting in glorious streaks of pink and blue. Even after living down here for a year, I never tired of the pink beauty of the sky on a summer evening. Ohio sunsets could be spectacular, but nothing like these fiery golden and mauve displays. My theory was that the sun looked bigger because we were closer to the equator, but since I didn’t know much about stuff like that, it was only my fanciful thinking, I guess. I felt myself relaxing for the first time since I left home this morning. Enjoying the beauty of God’s creation always helped to bring me peace, to regain focus—to quiet my soul enough to hear the still, small voice.
I turned the hose on and watered the pots on the porch. The lantana and the blue daze were about the only flowers still thriving in the heat of mid-July, but the asparagus ferns in the hanging baskets on the shady end of the porch were still looking decent. And of course, the roses were blooming non-stop.
I dragged the hose behind me across the yard to water the ferns under the pecan trees. I grabbed one of Annie’s tennis balls and lobbed it toward her and Sherm.
“Have you heard anything from Nicole?” I yelled.
“What’s that?” He cupped his ear.
I laid the hose down at the base of the wisteria, and ambled closer to him. “Nicole. Have you heard from Nicole?”
He shook his head sadly. “No. Not since she left t’other day. And I don’t know where the baby went.”
“The baby is safe, Sherm.” I had told him this before, but he couldn’t remember. “Lonnie is taking care of the baby.”
“Is that right? Lonnie Holloway?” He beamed. “She’s a good girl. I knowed her since she’s jest knee-high to a grasshopper.”
“Yes, sir. She’s taking good care of that baby for Nicole.”
Annie dropped her ball on Sherm
’s foot, and he bent gingerly to pick it up. “This here sure is a nice dog ya got, Callie.”
“She’s not mine. She’s Todd’s. Todd Whitney.”
“Say again?”
“She belongs to Todd Whitney.”
He stared hard at me. “Whitney, you say?”
“Yes, Todd Whitney.”
“Whitney? Well, I’ll be darned. Ain’t he th’ one who was mixed up in all that hullaballoo ’bout that kidnapping a while back?”
What?
“I don’t know, Sherm,” I said, suddenly weary. I couldn’t go there. Couldn’t think about one more “what if” right now. “Do you need me to take you into town for groceries tomorrow?”
“No, ma’am, but I 'preciate you askin’. That preacher—Gregory, is it?”
I nodded.
“I cain’t keep straight if that’s his’n first name or last name. He was goin’ to bring me some this week. He’s a good man, that one.”
Yes. Yes, he is.
When I got back into the house, I called Houston.
He didn’t answer, so I tried again. I didn’t want to bother him if he was resting, but it was only early evening and I had to see how he was doing.
Still no answer. It was only then that I realized I had never given him the envelope with the poem in it. I had had it in my hand when I walked over there, but then what? I couldn’t remember what I had done with it. Maybe I had dropped it in the hawthorn bushes?
The bushes…the shattering glass…the squeal of brakes, the sickening thud as the truck made impact with Brandon’s body…the sight of Houston’s tortured face…
I had to stop thinking about it. Todd had made me promise I’d try to relax tonight. But I was too restless.
I herded the dogs back into the house. I’d try to call Houston again a little later. Maybe I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet, anyway. I sank down on the couch with my laptop and pulled up the Star website. It still made me shake my head to think that Aunt Dot was writing an advice column, but really, who better than someone with her amount of well-earned wisdom? I pulled up the archives of her column from the last week or so.
Make Haste Slowly Page 18
