Nick gaped at her. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“I didn’t want to implicate Jake. But then my tires were slashed, and I tried to convince myself there wasn’t a connection. I got home and there was a dead cat in my bed, and somebody had been in my apartment and written on my wall. And tonight Jake called and had me stitch up a kid who’d been stabbed.”
“Stabbed?”
“Yes, and I warned Jake I had to go to the police, so next thing I know I’m being chased and shot at and run off the road.”
“Issie, you really think he could have been involved?”
“I know his friends were,” she said. “He’s with them all the time. I can’t see how it could have happened without his knowledge. My brother’s going to have a heart attack when he finds out. My sister-in-law’s heart will break. She just doesn’t deserve it.”
“But you can’t cover for him if he’s guilty.”
He reached the police station and pulled up to the front curb. “No, I can’t,” she said. “But, Nick, when I tell what I know, my life is going to be worth about as much as Ben’s was to them. They won’t stop until I’m dead.”
He stared at her across the darkness. “You’re a brave woman, Issie.”
“I’m not brave,” she said. “I’ve just run out of choices.”
He sat there for a moment, his eyes locked into hers, as if his mind worked on the puzzle of Issie though some of the pieces were missing. After a moment, he opened his door. “Well, let’s do it.”
He came around and opened her door, then put his arm around her shoulders as he walked her up. She wondered why he made her feel so protected. Was it his size, or just his character? She decided it was his character, since she knew so many strong, tall men who gave her more to be insecure about. She remembered earlier today when he had pulled her back against his broken ribs and held her as she’d wept over losing the boy. It was a feeling so different from that of men’s lustful arms around her, hands groping instead of stroking, grabbing instead of calming.
He opened the door for her and they stepped inside. The lights in the squad room made her feel safer, and she looked around and saw the buzz of activity. She didn’t see Stan, but she knew that R.J. had called him at home and asked him to meet her there. At least she was marginally safe here. Surely those kids weren’t stupid enough to come firing into a police station, no matter how desperate they were. Again, she wondered what kind of damage her bullets had done. What if she had killed one of them? What if Jake had been in the car?
Her knee hurt and her chest ached. She would probably have a bruise in the shape of her steering wheel, and no doubt her neck would ache tomorrow. But at least she was alive.
She looked up at Nick and realized he was probably in much more pain than she was. It was selfish of her to keep him here. “I appreciate you getting me here, Nick. You can probably go on home now. I know you’re not feeling very well.”
“No. I’m staying,” he said. “You called me, and you’re stuck with me.”
“But you really don’t have to. I can take it from here. I mean, if I’m safe anywhere, it’s in the middle of a police station.”
“I just want to stay here,” he said, ending the discussion. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll just stay.”
She nodded, thankful that he didn’t want to leave. Truth was, she was petrified, and even sitting here, she worried that her killer might return. Nick’s calming presence was what kept her from cowering through the station. She wondered if this was what it felt like to have a father—someone who counted it his responsibility to walk ahead of her through the land mines. No, she thought. These feelings toward Nick had little to do with father hunger, but there were things about him that fed that, anyway. Until now, she’d spent her life trying to rewrite the ending to her father-story, with men just like him—detached, lustful, selfish, unavailable. Her heart had expected every love to fulfill itself better than her father’s love had. But it always came out the same.
Now she wondered if her heart had been as clueless as her mind.
Don’t look at it too hard or it’ll go away, she told herself. Good feelings never stay. So she thought, instead, about the land mines dotting her personal landscape as she bolted across it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was almost four A.M. when Stan and Sid went to make arrests. Issie stayed behind at the conference table in the interrogation room, staring down at her hands splayed out in front of her. Directly across from her, Nick watched the emotions pass across her face.
“You okay?”
She cleared her throat. “No.”
He set one of his hands on top of hers and tried to get her to look up at him. “What is it?”
“I…I’m wondering if I should warn my brother…you know…that Jake might be arrested.”
“I don’t think you should,” Nick said. “He might tell Jake, and Jake might tip off the others…”
“You’re right,” she cut in, trying to blink back tears. “I know you are. It’s just…he’s only sixteen, you know…He’s been brought in before…disturbing the peace, drunk and disorderly conduct…I bailed him out. I don’t think I can bail him out this time.”
“Issie, they would have killed you tonight. He’s with them.”
“But…what if he’s just gotten in over his head? That slime-ball apparently stabbed his friend. What if he’s afraid he’ll be next?”
“It doesn’t matter why he’s doing it, Issie. If he’s involved—or even if he knew about it—he’s accountable. He has to pay.”
“But you’re supposed to be all about forgiveness, aren’t you?” she asked, looking up at him. “Loving the sinner but hating the sin.”
He had to look deep inside himself to find the answer she needed. It was in there somewhere, way down, covered over by anger toward the people who had killed Ben Ford. “You’re talking about two different things, Issie. God’s forgiveness, and the world’s consequences.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she stared down at her hands again. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed. “Paul the apostle killed Christians. He told himself he did it in the name of God. But it didn’t matter why he did it. He killed people. He murdered them. Later, when he realized how wrong he’d been, when he repented, when God forgave him…those Christians were still dead.”
“But…I thought Paul was one of the good guys.”
“He was. He was one of the greatest Christians who ever lived. He wrote most of the New Testament. He was responsible for spreading the gospel throughout the world. But those Christians he killed…he could never undo it. God forgave him completely. He even forgot. But their families were still missing loved ones. They couldn’t forget.”
“Then what good is forgiveness? How does it help anybody?”
“It takes away the guilt.”
“But if they still have to pay…”
“The world still makes you pay for your crimes,” he said. “God doesn’t.”
“Even when you die?” she asked. “He doesn’t punish people who’ve been involved in murder? They get off scot-free?”
“In heaven, God still requires payment for your sins…all of them, great and small. That payment is death. But he provided someone to make that payment. Someone to take your execution, just as surely as if he’d walked onto death row, unlocked the door, and taken your place. But no one can sit through your execution unless you let them. He doesn’t force you to take the pardon.”
He could see from her eyes that she was turning it all over in her mind. He wondered if she was processing it for Jake, or for herself.
“What if you don’t deserve a pardon?” she asked.
“That goes without saying,” he said. “Nobody deserves it. But the offer still stands.”
The door opened, and LaTonya Mason stepped in. “Sorry, folks. I need to use this room.”
Issie nodded and got to her feet. “We’re leaving.”
Nick wan
ted to turn around and beg LaTonya for ten more minutes. Issie was close. So close. But still so far from embracing the truth.
She came around the table and took Nick’s arm. She was still shaking. “Come on. Let’s go.”
He followed her out into the noisy squad room, with telephones ringing and printers buzzing. Perpetrators and complainants cursed and yelled.
He watched that hard look flood back over her face, as if the reality of a fallen world had wakened her from a deep sleep. “Thanks for staying with me, Nick.” She looked down at his bandaged legs. “I know you can’t be comfortable. I forgot all about your injuries, I was so wrapped up in my own problems.”
“Well, go easy on yourself,” he said. “They’re pretty tough problems.”
She sighed and shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know where I’m going to go,” she said. “I can’t stay at home, and my brother’s is kind of out of the question. Maybe I need to get a hotel.”
“No, you’d be too nervous in a hotel by yourself. You wouldn’t sleep a wink. Look, there are a number of places you could stay. I could call several different families in my church. Usually I call Ray and Susan first, but under the circumstances I don’t think they’re up to taking any guests tonight.”
“No, I hate feeling like an intruder. I don’t want to stay in someone’s house, especially if I don’t know them that well.”
He drew in a deep breath and tried to think. “I have an extra bedroom, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to stay there with me.”
She gave him a smirk. “Can’t you just see it now? The tongues would be wagging for years. Issie Mattreaux and the preacher. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”
He didn’t find it amusing. In fact, the thought had already occurred to him too many times. Issie Mattreaux and the preacher. No, she couldn’t stay at his place. He frowned as an idea came to him. “You know, there is somebody who would probably be glad to put you up, and you know her really well.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Aunt Aggie. She’s got plenty of room, and she likes you.”
“Yeah, I could stay with her. Do you think she’d take me?”
“Let me call her and we’ll see.”
As he took one of the spare desks with a telephone, he propped his legs up, wishing he’d brought his painkillers. But the pain was worth it to walk Issie through this process. She needed someone, and the fact that she’d chosen him filled him with an inexplicable pride.
Nick let the phone ring several times, for it always took Aunt Aggie a little longer to get all the way down the stairs to the one phone she kept in her foyer. He didn’t know why no one had ever been able to talk her into putting a phone upstairs, but the old woman had her ways, and no one was about to change them now.
She finally picked up the phone. “Hola.”
“Aunt Aggie, it’s Nick. I know I woke you up. I’m sorry to call so late…or, so early.”
“Hey, Nick,” she said. “How them burns are?”
“They’re okay, Aunt Aggie. Did you hear about the latest church burning?”
“Yep,” she said, “and I hope you see that it ain’t just your church burnin’ down. It got nothin’ to do with you so you can quit that down-in-the-mouth stuff and jus’ get on back to preachin’.”
“I plan to, Aunt Aggie,” he said, “but we’ve got a problem. I need your help. Issie Mattreaux just named some people that she thinks might have something to do with the murders and the church burnings, and we think she’s in a little trouble. She was shot at on the way to the police station, and she’s afraid to go home. The police are making arrests right now, but if they don’t round everybody up…” He hesitated, trying to get to the point. “Aunt Aggie, she needs a place to stay, and I wondered if you’d take her in.”
“That girl can stay with me anytime,” she said. “Only I ain’t too crazy ’bout havin’ bullet bait in my house.”
“Bullet bait?” he asked.
“Yeah. If people out shootin’ at her, I don’t want her here, me.”
“But, Aunt Aggie, she doesn’t have any place else to go.”
“Well, she can brought herself here, all right,” Aunt Aggie said, “but I ain’t got a man to protect us. I’ll take her if you come too.”
He frowned. “Me? I have a house, Aunt Aggie.”
She didn’t seem to find any relevance in that. “I’ll put you downstairs in the guest room. Anybody comes in this house, they go by you first.”
He sat back, thinking it through. Aunt Aggie had never been the frightened type, so her fears now didn’t ring true. “Aunt Aggie, is this a trick? Are you just trying to get me in your house so you can hover over me?”
“You want me to take that girl in, or not?”
He grinned and met Issie’s eyes. “Aunt Aggie, you’re a sneaky little thing, aren’t you?”
“You call it sneaky, I call it smart, me. If I got bullet bait in my house, then I gon’ have a man to protect me. And if I have to cook and do for you to return the favor, then you’ll jes’ have to let me, you.”
“All right, Aunt Aggie. You win.”
“I’ll take good care o’ you, sha,” she said with delight. “You ain’t been pampered in a long time, you, so y’all come on over, we’ll pass a good time.”
He hung up the phone and sat there a moment, wondering how he’d been snookered into that.
Issie approached him. “What did she say?”
“She said you’re very welcome to come.” He looked up at her, wishing she wasn’t quite so pretty…wishing he wasn’t quite so happy about staying in Aunt Aggie’s house with her. “There’s just one little catch,” he said.
“A catch? What catch?”
“She wants me to come too.”
“What do you mean? To spend the night?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She said that she doesn’t feel very safe without a man there and she’d like for me to come.”
“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, she’s probably right. I’m not the safest person to be putting up right now. But that doesn’t mean that you have to take a bullet for me.”
“I’m not going to take a bullet,” he said. “Nobody’s even going to know where you are. I’ll just take you by your apartment and we’ll go in and get your stuff, get whatever you need for tonight, and then we’ll go by my house and I’ll get my stuff. I’ll just forward my calls to Aunt Aggie’s. Oh, and I’ve got to try and change these bandages. I put it off all day, dreading it, but I guess I can’t put it off any longer.”
She looked down at his legs. “I’ll be happy to do it.”
He couldn’t stand the thought. He wanted her to think of him as strong, invincible. Not wounded and disgusting. “No, that’s okay. It’s not very pleasant.”
“Hey, I do unpleasant things all the time. I can do a lot better job than you can, Nick. When we get to Aunt Aggie’s I’ll change your bandages and apply the medication, and make sure everything looks all right.”
The thought of doing it himself was almost more repulsive than the thought of getting her to, but he couldn’t decide between the worse of two evils as they drove to her apartment to get her things.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cruz and Jennifer’s mother let a string of curses fly when she saw Jennifer’s face. At that, their grandfather had wakened and shuffled into the kitchen, his big paunch protruding like that of a pregnant woman.
“What are you two tied up in?” Sidney Clairmont demanded.
“It’s them church burnings, ain’t it?” Hattie Cruz spouted as she doused Jennifer’s forehead with hydrogen peroxide. “Reminded me of the old days.”
“Except for the bodies!” Clairmont boomed. “Whatsa matter with you two? You don’t kill somebody first thing! You leave a warning, then you burn a cross. You make sure they know the KKK acted, but they can’t narrow down who done it.”
“We ain’t like you, Granddaddy,” Cruz said. “We ain’t the KKK. We have different ways.”
“Use the ways that work, fool!” he bellowed. “That way you don’t get shot at and chased and put in jail before you have a chance to make a difference.”
“They know how to do it,” Hattie said. “Daddy, they was raised with this. They been follerin’ you since they was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
Cruz went to the refrigerator and got a beer out. “I hear the police been snooping around here.”
His mother made a derisive noise. “Come wanting to talk to you, but I ain’t seen you in days.”
“We found a house we could use till we get the compound done,” Cruz said. “When it’s done, I want you two to come live there with us. We’re gon’ have massive security to keep the Feds out, and you can help us recruit older soldiers who have money. We need a cash flow, and the younger ones ain’t got much.”
“I ain’t movin’ nowhere,” Sidney said. “I’m fine right here.”
“But they’ll come after you to get to us. I can’t promise your protection if you ain’t with us. When we get moved in, we’ll have a supply of food for a year, an arsenal of weapons, and won’t nobody be able to touch us. Just think about it. Think of all we can accomplish with the resources our recruits bring with ’em.”
Hattie put a big Band-Aid on Jennifer’s forehead and winked at her son. “I’ll work on him,” she said. “Time it’s ready, we’ll be set to go. Now ya’ll ain’t going back to the group tonight, are you? You gotta hide. They’ll be back lookin’ for you again.”
“We’ll need to hide the car for sure,” Jennifer said. “They’ll be lookin’ for it. We put it out in the shed near Granddaddy’s deer camp. You think it’ll be all right?”
“Yeah,” Sidney grunted. “And you two better stay at the camp. It’s empty right now. They won’t look there.”
Cruz liked the idea. “Thanks, Granddaddy. I knew you could help.”
By the time they got their things and set up at the deer camp, they were ready for a few hours of sleep.
Trial by Fire Page 13
