I Shall Not Want

by Debbie Viguié

  She glanced at her watch. “I have to get going or I’ll be late for work.”

  “Okay, I think we’ve got it from here. If we have any questions, we’ll call.”

  “Thanks. Do you need my number?”

  “Yes.”

  He flashed her a toothy grin and a wink, and she blushed.

  8

  CINDY MANAGED TO DRIVE HOME, PUT AWAY HER GROCERIES, AND JUST make it to work on time.

  When she walked in, Geanie regarded her with surprise. “Two days in a row I beat you here. I think that’s unprecedented.”

  Cindy was almost always the first one at work in the morning, sometimes beating the others by twenty minutes.

  “I was grocery shopping for Thursday,” she said, not wanting to explain further.

  “Cool! I invited a friend who had nowhere to go either. I hope that’s okay.”

  Cindy smiled. “Sure. Besides, I invited Harry, the homeless guy who occasionally falls asleep in the sanctuary.”

  “Wow, awesome. It should be a memorable Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah, hopefully it’s just not memorable for me setting the turkey on fire or anything like that.”

  “My dad did that once. It wasn’t his fault, though. There was a stove malfunction,” Geanie said. “It ended up being fine. We just ate around the seared parts. It gave the stuffing a funky smoky flavor, though.”

  “Eew.”

  “As long as the food Thursday is edible, you won’t hear me complain.”

  A minute later Dave came into the office and made a bee-line for Cindy’s desk. He handed her a piece of paper with a sheepish grin.

  “What’s this?”

  “Address and directions for the house your team will be delivering food to tomorrow afternoon. I also put down the names of the kids who will be going in your car. I put the shyer kids in your car, so hopefully everything will go smoothly and quietly.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should thank him or stick her tongue out at him. She was still unhappy about the way he had dragged her into driving for the event. She settled for a nod.

  “We’re all meeting up in the youth room tomorrow to do a quick rally and to grab the food before taking off. Extra boxes of food are going to be delivered to the homeless shelter after the event. If you could at least drop your kids off there, you don’t have to stay. I can find them rides home at that point.”

  “No, that’s okay,” she said. The homeless shelter didn’t bother her so much. Plus she still had some questions for Bernadette and hoped the woman would be there to answer them.

  “Awesome! I’ll see you then. Well, I’ll probably see you before then. You know what I mean,” the youth pastor finished in exasperation.

  Cindy couldn’t help but smile as he left the office. Whatever her problems were, at least she didn’t have to deal with a hundred kids aggravating them each week.

  It was almost ten in the morning before the detectives released Jeremiah and he made it to the drugstore. He stood for what felt like an hour staring at the rows of cold and flu medication and despite his best intentions, he just couldn’t force his brain to compare them all and make a choice.

  A clerk, seemingly sensing his uncertainty, finally approached. “Can I help you with something?”

  Jeremiah gestured to the wall and slurred his dilemma. He hoped it was understandable to someone besides him. For a moment he wasn’t even sure if he’d spoken in English.

  The clerk cheerfully selected several different candy-colored packages and put them all in Jeremiah’s basket. Jeremiah nodded gratefully, too out of it to even register what the man was saying about dosing. He added some water, microwaveable soup, saltine crackers, and 7-Up to his cart before heading for the register.

  Once in his car he cracked open a bottle of water and sorted through his packages of pills until one that said “Cold” on it jumped out at him. He popped two tablets out of their sharp, plastic and metallic packaging and downed them, praying that they were fast acting. Then he headed to the synagogue, unsure of what was waiting for him there but convinced that somehow he would manage. He’d never hear the end of it from Marie otherwise.

  There were twenty-three messages on the answering machine in the office by the time he got there, and half a dozen of them were from Marie checking to make sure that everything was all right and that he hadn’t accidentally burned down the building or canceled Hanukkah services. From the sound of her voice and the increasing length of the messages, he couldn’t help but wonder how much was actual concern and how much was her need to be away from her family for a couple of minutes and calling to check in at work was a good excuse for hiding out from them. Whatever the reason, it was strangely comforting to know that she cared so deeply about her job and about her synagogue.

  After he had finished clearing out the answering machine, he turned his attention to his scribbled notes from the afternoon before. He had managed to forget about picking up the specialty paper. With a sigh he stared at the written address, which meant absolutely nothing to him. He tried calling the store to get a cross street, but the line was busy. He thought he vaguely remembered Marie saying something about the store being on the other side of the freeway. He locked the office and headed to the car, figuring he could continue trying to call as he drove. Hopefully they would pick up or he would stumble upon it before he had to cave and call Marie.

  It was half past eleven when Cindy grabbed her purse and hopped up from her chair.

  “Where are you going?” Geanie asked.

  “I’m heading to lunch a few minutes early.”

  “Cool. I’ll take mine when you get back.”

  Cindy walked out to the parking lot. Staring at the list of kids and the address for the food delivery had been a good distraction, but her mind had quickly drifted back to the murders. She needed to clear her head, try and make sense of it all, and there was only one person she could think of who could help.

  She saw Jeremiah walking toward his car and was glad that she had listened to the impulse to leave early, else she wouldn’t have caught him. In the next breath, though, she felt a bit foolish. They hadn’t talked but to exchange pleasantries for months before finding Derek’s body.

  She stared long and hard at Jeremiah. He looked haggard. His shoulders were hunched, and he didn’t look well. He was scowling, which wasn’t in keeping with how she normally pictured him.

  Cindy stood on the other side of the hedge and marveled that a man she had felt so close to at Easter could be a stranger by Thanksgiving. He didn’t look up and see her, just kept his head down as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Rabbi Silverman!” she called, feeling foolish.

  He didn’t move or turn, just unlocked his car and opened the door.

  “Jeremiah?”

  He spun around, dark circles under his eyes making them look sunken. His jaw was clenched, and his whole posture was tense. When he saw her, he relaxed slightly.

  “Cindy, what’s going on?”

  “I was about to ask you that. Are you okay?”

  “Actually, I’m sick.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged. “Can I help you?”

  She bit her lip. He really did look awful. She should just leave him alone. She shook her head.

  He looked like he was just going to accept that and continue on his way. Something stopped him at the last minute, though, and he swept her with his piercing eyes.

  “Cindy, is something wrong?” he asked finally, stepping closer.

  She had the sudden, crazy urge to take a step back. It had to be because she didn’t want to get whatever bug he had, she reasoned. There was something about him, though, in that moment, that reminded her of the night the serial killer held her hostage and Jeremiah killed him.

  “Yes and no. I mean, I’m fine. I was just really hoping to talk some things over with you.”

  “As a rabbi?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “No, as a friend. And, you kn
ow, someone I talk about crimes with,” she added, forcing herself to smile. It sounded lame even to her ears, and she couldn’t help but think of all the times she had made fun of mystery heroes who always managed to find trouble wherever they went. The truth was, she was frightened and frustrated. She had been able to put Easter behind her because she had managed to convince herself that it was all over, that it was in the past, and that life would return to normal and relative safety. Finding Derek the way she did had shattered those illusions, quite possibly for the rest of her life. She didn’t want to be someone who jumped at shadows or expected tragedy around every corner. She’d had enough tragedy in her life to ever want to encounter any more ever again.

  He nodded. “I understand. I’d be happy to talk with you. Unfortunately, now isn’t exactly the best time.”

  “I understand. We can always talk later. Just be sure to drink plenty of hot liquids and go straight to bed.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “For your flu. You’re heading home, right?”

  “I wish. I have to go buy some supplies for the week. Marie’s on vacation, and unfortunately synagogue business won’t wait for her return, no matter how much I wish it could.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Not unless you can tell me where on earth I can find Robert’s Paper and Office Supply.”

  Cindy grinned. “I can help with that. Picking up specialty paper?” she guessed.

  “How did you know?”

  “I think every church in the area orders from them. I think they cornered the market early. In cleaning out old, old files, I found receipts from them dating back to the sixties.”

  “That is impressive. Since you know the store, would you be so kind as to give me directions?”

  “How about I drive you? It will be easier that way. It will give us time to talk too.”

  “I don’t want to infect you.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but he finally nodded, closed his door, and crossed over to her side of the parking lot. A minute later they were in her car and turning onto the street.

  “You wanted to talk?”

  “Yeah.” She hesitated, not entirely sure where to start. “So Marie’s out of town this week?”

  “Visiting family.”

  “So where will you be having Thanksgiving?”

  “I think the flu might be a blessing. It will save me from having to choose and risk angering the other eighty-seven families.”

  “Why don’t you come over to my house? I’m having a couple of people over and attempting to cook Thanksgiving dinner. It’s sort of a misfit holiday.”

  “Feeding the orphans, are you?” he asked with a weak smile.

  “Something like that. I’d love it if you came.”

  “I wouldn’t want to infect everyone.”

  “Nonsense. We can put you at the far end of the table. Besides, no one should be alone on Thanksgiving.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  She could tell she wasn’t going to get any firmer a commitment from him, so she moved on, taking a deep breath as she plunged into the topic that had been occupying most of her waking moments. “I’ve been thinking about all these killings lately.”

  “Yes, and… ?”

  “It seems to me that the missing dogs are the common denominator. Sure, most of the victims have been homeless, but Derek wasn’t. When thieves broke into Joseph’s house, all they took were puppies.”

  “Derek was only holding onto one of the dogs. He didn’t own the missing puppy. Maybe the true link is the charity event and not the dogs themselves.”

  “Yes, but then why steal the dogs?”

  “Cause confusion, maybe?”

  “If so, it’s working,” she admitted.

  “What has Detective Mark said to you about all of this?”

  She sighed. “As usual he thinks the whole thing is police business and that I shouldn’t get myself involved.”

  “He has a point.”

  “I know he has a point, but how can I not get involved? These things didn’t just happen—they weren’t stories I heard from a second cousin’s nephew’s girlfriend’s best friend’s sister. These happened to me.”

  “I lost you at nephew,” he admitted.

  “Sorry. My point was that most people who think you shouldn’t get involved are either professionals who don’t want amateurs contaminating everything or people whose lives haven’t been touched by deep, profound tragedy.”

  “You could be right.”

  They arrived at the store, and Jeremiah excused himself while he went inside to pick up the order. Cindy was nothing if not persistent, and he didn’t think she would let go of the mystery anytime soon.

  He didn’t want to talk about the dead man on his lawn that morning. The less people knew about it, the better he’d feel. Sooner or later, though, it would come up, and she would find it suspicious that he hadn’t told her. Then she might start digging in places best left untouched.

  He would have to tread carefully, though. The flu was impairing his ability to think clearly, and one slipup could cost him the new life he had built for himself.

  He walked back out and stowed the package in Cindy’s trunk. Then he slid back into her passenger seat with a sigh.

  “Everything okay?”

  He closed his eyes. “Not really. I feel terrible and I had a really bad morning.”

  “What happened?”

  “I found a body on my front lawn when I tried to leave the house this morning.”

  “What!” The shock in her voice was clear. He had waited too long to tell her. He opened his eyes. “I debated telling you about it because I didn’t want to frighten you.”

  She set her jaw. “While I appreciate the thought, I’d rather know about danger when it’s around.”

  “The police think he was homeless.”

  “One of the men from Friday?”

  “No. It’s possible that he had a dog, though.”

  “Then the link has to be the dogs. It can’t just be about the charity.”

  Jeremiah wasn’t convinced that the two killers were the same or connected by anything other than unfortunate similarities. Still, he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. “I’m sure the police will catch the killer soon enough,” he said.

  “I’m worried, though. I mean, these killings can’t keep going on, and I know a couple of these homeless people. It scares me to think something might happen to them.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “It’s just like Easter all over again.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “The anxiety, the fear, the knowledge that death could strike wherever whenever. I can’t take it.” Her face was pale and her hands were shaking. For a moment he thought she might pass out, but she held on.

  “You need to relax and learn to focus so these feelings don’t overwhelm you,” he said.

  “That sounds lovely, but I have no idea how to do that,” she said.

  “I could show you a few breathing techniques you can use to calm yourself down quickly when you’re stressed,” he offered.

  “I would really appreciate that.”

  “How do you relax now?”

  “Well, I generally play solitaire or throw darts at a picture of my brother.”

  “Darts?” He had seen the dartboard when he had been in her house months before but feigned surprise for her benefit.

  “Yeah. Don’t tell my mom.”

  “About the solitaire?” he joked.

  “Very funny.”

  “Okay, what else?”

  “That’s it.”

  “No wonder you have trouble relaxing. Both those activities are active instead of passive. They require you to do something instead of just be.”

  “I don’t know how to just be,” she said.

  “It’s a shame. You’re missing out on a lot of peace, and your spirit
ual life isn’t all that it could be.”

  “How do you mean?” she asked, clearly startled.

  “ ‘Be still and know that I am God.’ ”

  “Psalm 46:10. That’s my father’s favorite verse.”

  Jeremiah smiled. “In our version it is the eleventh verse, not the tenth.”

  “That is so weird.”

  He shrugged. “It happens from time to time. The meaning is still the same regardless of whether you see it as verse ten or eleven.”

  “ ‘Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth,’ ” she quoted.

  “But more than that, I think Adonai desires to be exalted in your heart,” Jeremiah said. “How can He be if you are not still and thinking on Him?”

  She was quiet for a long time, and he finally looked over to see tears streaking down her cheeks.

  “I did not intend to make you cry.”

  “And yet you did,” she whispered. “You’re right. I have no idea how to be still. I’m afraid to be.”

  “Then I shall teach you.” They pulled into the church parking lot, and he saw Mark leaning against his car, which was parked on the other side of the hedge next to Jeremiah’s car. “But not today,” he added. “I think you’re right about one thing, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I should have gone back to bed with a bowl of soup.”

  “Will you be okay?” Cindy asked as they got out of the car and Jeremiah retrieved the paper from the trunk.

  “Fine. I’m sure you have things you need to get back to,” Jeremiah said. The last thing he needed was a witness while he spoke to Mark. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “Something wrong with your car?” Mark asked pointedly as Jeremiah passed through the hedge.

  “I didn’t know where the paper store was, and Cindy offered to drive rather than try to give me directions,” Jeremiah said, holding up his package.

  He glanced back and saw that Cindy was halfway to the church office.

  “That was nice of her,” Mark said.

  “Not entirely. She wanted to pick my brain about the murders,” Jeremiah said, leading Mark toward the synagogue office.

  “Did you tell her about the guy on your lawn?”