The gravel drive crunched under my feet as I walked up to the house, a sad-looking structure that Todd jokingly called a “Texas Special” because of the piles of trash surrounding it. On the saggy porch sprawled an equally saggy, sun-bleached recliner. I could picture Kenny slumping there on hot summer afternoons, watching the cars go by as he relived the regrets of his past.
I shook my head. What a sad way to live. I edged around a heap of old tires to survey the rest of the property. An overgrown oleander, its long, pointy leaves green even in March, blocked my view.
I glanced at my van in the driveway. It was nearing dusk, and I didn’t want to tramp around here after dark. I pushed in between the oleander and the side of the house. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek to see if Kenny had a barn.
I stuck to the path through the rubbish heaps next to the house. I rounded the corner to the back yard, almost bonking my head on the air conditioner unit sticking out of a window. Untrimmed yews grew tall here, partially covering the windows of the house.
“Not much of a yard,” I murmured, pushing aside the yews to see. Pretty much, it was a clearing that had been allowed to merge into prairieland. In the distance, before the grass gave way to a patch of scrubby mesquite trees, I made out a building. It looked like a garage to me. But I guess it could have been a barn. Hmm. Beyond that was a wooded area, but I couldn’t tell how far it extended.
After my run-in last year with gun-wielding criminals, Todd had made me promise that I wouldn’t take a risk like that again. But the barn was surely deserted. I bet Kenny hadn’t been out there in years. Likely all I’d encounter would be a bunch of mice. I would take one quick look, then head home. I could hide behind that big cedar tree near the barn door.
I moved to step out of the shrubbery, when I felt a restraining hand on my arm.
I jerked, but no one was there. My heart hammered as I stood frozen in the bushes. Who had grabbed my arm?
An instant later, I watched, stunned, as someone slid out of the side door of Kenny’s barn. Who was that? I squinted through the growing darkness, but the person was wearing a hat pulled low over his eyes. Or her eyes? I couldn’t tell. I watched as the person headed toward the woods. Should I follow? Or should I run?
Or maybe I’d stay put right here in the yews. Truthfully, I didn’t have much of a choice. My feet felt glued to the ground, and I had a sudden thought of a huge angel standing on my toes.
“Okay, Lord. I get it.” If I wasn’t so scared, I would have laughed. I guess I’d have to be happy with watching. I thought of my C. Willikers delivery van parked right out in the open in front of Kenny’s house. If whoever this person was spotted me, he wouldn’t have to wonder who I was.
I watched for long minutes until the person re-emerged from the woods with a flashlight and headed the opposite direction from me, disappearing behind the barn.
The pressure on my feet lifted at the same time as I heard the words explode in my mind.
Run, Callie!
I yanked myself free of the branches and flew to my van. My hand shook as I dug my keys out of my pocket. I jammed the ignition key in and gunned the engine, spewing gravel as I flew up onto the highway. Thank God no one was coming from the opposite direction.
I made it half a mile down the road when I heard the blast.
“Jesus, help me!” I yelled. What was happening? Was my van on fire?
I yanked the steering wheel hard to the right, almost rolling the van in my haste to stop on the shoulder. I jumped out, my breath coming in hard gasps. It wasn’t my van.
I looked behind me to see a plume of smoke rising from Kenny’s property.
Oh, no.
I snatched my phone and called 911, then called Todd and put my phone on speaker as I turned around to head back to Kenny’s.
Todd didn’t answer.
I screeched to a stop in front of Kenny’s property, gaping at the pile of smoking rubble that had been his barn five minutes earlier. The cedar tree, where I had planned to hide, was gone. Vaporized.
I leaned my head against the seat rest, feeling the nerves in my legs start vibrating. It had been a while since I’d felt my adrenaline kick in like that. I took a slow, deep breath and held it, then let it out, emptying my lungs. What had happened?
Jesus? In my mind’s eye, I ran toward His outstretched arms.
I am here, Beloved.
I felt Him holding me against His chest, enfolding me in His strong arms, and I was comforted.
I knew the sheriff would arrive soon. The city offices were only a couple of miles down the highway, and I could already hear the sirens wailing. Todd would be with them.
I pressed my hands on my thighs, willing them to stop jiggling. It wasn’t any use.
Todd arrived in the next second and yanked my door open. “Callie. Thank God. When I heard the call come through on the scanner—” He crushed me to him, and then my tears came.
I clung to him, sobbing.
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” he whispered against my hair. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
I shook my head against his chest. “I…can’t…”
“Shh. It’s okay. You can tell me about it later.” He pulled away to look at me, brushing my hair away from where it was sticking to the moisture on my cheeks. “What am I going to do with you, Nancy?”
I laughed shakily. “At least nobody s-shot at me this time.”
“Well, that’s a plus.” He hugged me to him again. “I can see that I’m never going to be bored with you in my life.”
I swiped at my nose. “There was an angel standing on my feet.”
“What? Well, thank God for that. I’d hate to think it was only me trying to protect you.” He gave me his hand and pulled me out of the driver’s seat to stand next to him. “What happened?”
One of the paramedics approached us, but Todd waved him off. “She’s okay.”
“At least I can stand up without my legs feeling like Jell-O.” I watched the police set up their floodlights in the light from the ambulance and fire trucks still idling near my van. I took a deep breath. “I saw someone in the barn.”
He stiffened. “You saw someone? I thought you drove by right when the explosion happened and reported it.”
Uh oh. Confession time. “Um, I was driving when the explosion happened.”
“But?”
“But I was outside the house a few minutes before that. When the angel was standing on my foot.” I gave him my winningest smile.
“Callie.” He grasped my upper arms. “What in the world were you doing here all by yourself? At night?”
“It wasn’t night when I got here. And I didn’t go in the house.”
He growled. “You promised me you wouldn’t—”
“I didn’t go in the house. I was super tempted to look in the garagy thing because I thought maybe it was what Kenny called the barn. But I didn’t because the angel grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let me leave the bushes.”
“But then?” I watched a muscle in his cheek jump.
I shrugged. “I was hiding in the bushes at the back of the house, and someone came out of the side door of the barn.”
“One person? Was it a man or a woman?” He motioned the sheriff over, then turned to me again. “You’ll have to tell Wayne this.”
“Just one. I don’t know. I couldn’t tell, but probably a short, chubby sort of guy.” Like maybe Morley Blackman’s size. Ack. “He walked right out of the garage or the barn or whatever it is into the woods, then after a few minutes, he came out with a flashlight and headed behind the barn.”
“And you were hiding in the bushes behind the house all of this time.”
“Yep.” Pretty dumb, now that I thought of it. “I wasn’t sure what to do, and it was getting darker. Then all of a sudden, I heard ‘Run, Callie!’ The angel got off my feet, and I ran to the van and started driving, but I only got as far as the Greens’ gate, when I heard the explosion. At first I thought it was my van.”
He sighed deeply. “I believe you. But you know you might have a harder time convincing Sherriff Wayne. Especially if someone witnessed your van parked out in front before the explosion happened.”
Eeks. I hadn’t thought of that. “But what about the guy? Or whoever it was?”
The sheriff strode up. “Ma’am.” He acknowledged me, then turned to Todd. “Watcha got, Whitney?”
“Callie says she saw someone at the barn shortly before the explosion.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was hours later that I finally sank into my bed. I had recounted the whole deal to Sheriff Wayne to the best of my ability, but I still had to make an official report tomorrow morning at the police station. The county had officers searching the woods even now. A preliminary sweep of Kenny’s house hadn’t turned up anything of interest, at least from what I could tell.
I lay on my back, thanking God again for His protection. What reason would someone have for blowing up Kenny’s barn? Important papers of some kind? Evidence of a crime?
I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but things were escalating. How desperate did someone have to be to not only murder an old lady, but try to kill Kenny and then blow up his barn? It was craziness. And this time, it wasn’t Marianne. She was in ICU, barely hanging on to life.
I kept coming back to Erma’s will. She had to have known something. What was she trying to tell without telling? I was drifting off to sleep when I jerked awake with an idea. Maybe we could play a little game with Erma’s will and see who came out to play.
I called Karen first thing in the morning after my prayer time. “What did the lawyer say about the will?”
“He said he is not aware of a newer one, so if we don’t find one, we’ll have to execute this one. And we only have a couple of days left for the token-holder to show up.” She didn’t sound happy.
“And if that person doesn’t show up?”
“Then I think the land goes to Hope House. From that first paperwork I found with your name on it, it appears she was planning to donate it to y’all as soon as the twenty-year mark was up.”
“But someone else has a crack at it first. Did you ever come up with any idea of what the token of promise could be? You’ve looked through all of her papers?”
“Every last box I could find. But who knows if it’s in a box? The last one was stuck in some random place, so why not this one, too?”
“Sure could be.” I sipped my tea. “What about the lawyer? Do you think he’s to be trusted?”
“I don’t know. I assume so. He’s the lawyer who drew it up twenty years ago.”
“Hmm. Maybe that’s a good thing. Give me a few minutes to think. I’ll get with you again in a little while, okay?”
Something was niggling at the edges of my brain. Something about that very first day. The day I took the muffins to Sister Erma. The day she said something about eating the cookies.
The idea burst in my mind, and I called Karen back. “Remember when you said that it was the plate of cookies in your grandma’s house that bothered you?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why.”
Well, I knew why, but I wasn’t ready to tell her about Marianne quite yet. “I think I know where to look for information about the token of promise business.”
“Where? I’ve looked through everything.”
“And you didn’t find it, because I bet I’ve had it all this time. I just didn’t know it.” I put Karen on speakerphone so I could get dressed while I talked.
“You’ve had the token of promise? What are you talking about?”
I pulled my favorite pink sweatshirt over my head. “A few days after your grandma died, Sharlene brought a box of books into C. Willikers. She said she was donating them. I looked through them briefly, but I haven’t had time to catalogue them and put them out on the shelf. The box is still in the back-storage room.”
“So…why do you think Grandma’s will or something important is in there?”
“Because I saw old cookbooks. And because I’m guessing that she made a point to tell Sharlene about the cookies so that I—or someone—would put two and two together.”
“I’m not following.”
“I think she hid the information in with her cookie recipe. She gave the thieves cookies the night of the attempted robbery.”
“So whoever broke in her house didn’t find the paper because it was already in Sharlene’s possession.”
“Yep.”
I yanked my socks on. “The question remains, is Sharlene involved with your grandma’s death? Or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? And does the person who holds the token know what they have?”
That was the question of the hour, or so it seemed. I opened the door to C. Willikers and headed straight for the back room, stopping to open the blinds to let in the early morning sunshine. Thank God I hadn’t scheduled Sharlene to work this morning. I’d like to peruse the contents of Erma’s box without Sharlene looking over my shoulder.
I hoisted the box onto my hip and carried it out to the counter. The top half of the box was filled with old Bible commentaries, so I set them aside. I pulled everything else out, smiling as I picked up an old blue binder, filled with Erma’s handwritten recipes. I resisted the urge to look for the cocoa-butterscotch cookie recipe. Karen should be the one to do that. I slid the binder into my purse, then called Karen as I locked the door of the store behind me.
“I found it.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. I’m on my way over.”
She met me in her driveway. “You just caught me. I was leaving to get the kids from my mother-in-law’s when you called. I can’t believe you found it.”
I held it out to her. “I thought you should do the honors.”
“I’m so excited!” She flipped the pages until she came to the cocoa-butterscotch cookie recipe, then frowned. “I don’t see anything special.”
“Maybe turn it over?”
She flipped the card over. There, taped to the back of the recipe, was a tiny key.
I cheered while Karen groaned. “Now what?”
“I don’t know, but we’re getting closer.” I could feel it in my spirit. “God’s going to show us what this is for.”
Karen shook her head. “If you say so, Callie.”
“I do say so. In the name of Jesus, answers will come to us.” I’d rarely felt so strongly about anything.
“Well, I need to grab the kiddos. Let me know if you figure anything out. You want to keep it for now?”
I peeled the key off the recipe card and dropped it in my pocket right as my phone rang. It was Aunt Dot. “Callie, did you see this morning’s headline?”
“Not yet.”
“Sounds like your friend June Blackman has been busy. She’s trying to orchestrate a huge housing development in Short Creek.”
Great. I’d moved to a small town on purpose. Why did she want to— “Where?”
“Right off of 95. Right across the highway from Kenny’s house.”
“Ah ha.” I bunched my hair up into a ponytail. “That’s got to be why she didn’t want Hope House built in Short Creek. She doesn’t want potential homebuyers to be turned off by having ‘a place like that,’ as she would call it, right in their back yard.” I let go of my hair.
“You’re probably right. But how sad, that her business aspirations would be more important than the lives of those broken young women.”
“Yes.” God have mercy. How His heart must weep over the sin and pain in this world. I had been reading this morning how as we spend more time in prayer, we begin to be grieved by what grieves Him. I blew out a sigh. I had to focus on the task at hand. “So if Kenny’s property is right across the highway from her development, would she have reason to destroy his barn? That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“I still can’t believe you were there when it happened. God spared your life, for sure, darlin’.”
My stomach f
lipped over just thinking about it. “I keep thanking Him for that big old angel. I know it was one, even though I couldn’t see him.” I smiled. “Maybe I’ll get to see him one day.”
“Wouldn’t that be cool? In the meantime, you’re the only one I know who has had an angel stand on her toes.”
I smiled. “I’m still so blown away by it. I felt like I could have reached out and touched him. Anyway, I’ve got to run. It’s Tuesday, so Mona will be coming over to the shop for lunch. Love you.”
I stood at the counter at the shop, my laptop open. I was trying to respond to a customer’s email, but I was sidetracked by the little key. It was too small and ornate to belong to a safety-deposit box. More like a piece of jewelry. Was it even a real key? Did it have something to do with the token of promise?
“Are you ready to eat? I’m starving.” Mona pushed through the door, carrying an oversized tote bag that matched her favorite red cowboy boots. She held the bag up in front of her like a prize. “I got enough chicken spaghetti in here if you want to share. My honey made it last night, and it was his best batch ever.”
I had never heard of chicken spaghetti until I moved to Texas, where several versions, varying in palatability, made an appearance at every church potluck. Or pot-yuck, as Todd called them. I’m sure Rob’s recipe was great, as far as that went. “No, thanks. I brought leftover potato-cheese soup.”
“Soup, schmoop. No wonder you’re the size of a twig.” She thumped the bag on the counter. “How’s Todd?”
“Fine. How are you feeling?”
She tossed her head, making her boot-shaped earrings dance. “I’m gonna beat this, Callie. I’m not going to let some old disease take me out before my time. Like my doctor said, we’re gonna nip this thing in the butt.”
What? I didn’t mean to laugh, but the mental picture did me in. I bent to grab my lunch from under the counter, hoping to regain my composure, but a giggle slipped out as I stood.
“What’s so funny?” She glanced at me as she shoved the chicken spaghetti into the microwave.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “God must have known I needed a friend like you. I’m glad He brought us together.”
Where There's a Will Page 22
