A thousand sharp words sprang to mind, but Judith forced them back. With her hands fisted at her side and her head throbbing from the pent-up anger, she turned and stomped back through the ranks of men to join Beverly and Keneisha.
Beverly laid a quiet hand on Judith’s arm. “Easy, friend. There’s more of us than there are of them. They’ll leave. Just let it pass.”
Dwight and his brothers casually got into their trucks and drove away.
Mumbles of concern passed among the members of the congregation as they watched the trucks disappear down the dirt road.
Henry moved to Judith’s side. “You might want to remove anything of value from your cabin. No telling how far Dwight’s hate will take him.”
Judith watched him walk away, the anger still popping inside her like water in hot oil.
“Don’t be mad, Miss Judith.” Keneisha wrapped her arms around Judith’s waist and looked up at her. “I’ll still be your friend.”
Judith bit back her anger and considered Henry’s parting words. She hadn’t suffered anything like what he and the members of his congregation had. Living with hatred as a daily threat was a problem she’d never had to face. Judith laid a palm against Keneisha’s cheek. “That’s good, Keneisha. I need all the friends I can get.”
17
Jacob’s skin prickled with anticipation as he sat on the front steps of Isaiah’s church later that night. The air vibrated with the restlessness of nocturnal creatures, as if every living thing knew that hatred was on the prowl, looking for its next victim.
After Judith’s confrontation with Dwight earlier that day, there was little doubt the arsonists would strike soon.
Jacob was ready. He’d keep vigil throughout the night, ready to serve as guardian, or witness, or whatever else was needed.
Judith had accepted the risk, but if Jacob could rescue the church from a fiery demise, surely she’d be relieved and happy.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. How he longed to hold her close while they slept and wake every morning to her smile. He’d do all he could to banish any doubts Judith had about marrying him.
The shrill ring of his cell phone startled Jacob. He drew it out of his shirt pocket and glanced at the caller I.D. His heart lurched when he saw the call was from the San Augustine County Sheriff Department. He answered after the second ring.
“Jacob Fraser?”
The man’s voice was unfamiliar, but the sheriff had recently hired new deputies.
“Yes.”
“Sheriff Miller would like you to come to the station. There’s some new evidence in the arson case he’d like you to take a look at. Should I tell the sheriff you’re on the way?”
Jacob glanced at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. What kind of evidence had the sheriff found that couldn’t wait until morning? But Sheriff Miller wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“I’ll let the sheriff know.”
Jacob ended the call and headed to his truck. Maybe Sheriff Miller or Mark had uncovered a solid lead.
****
Judith lay in bed and listened to the night noises.
Beverly snored softly in the room next to hers, the kitchen clock ticked resolutely, and the crickets hummed. But Judith couldn’t sleep. Memories of the day stomped through her mind. Rev. Washington’s sermon had been a powerful reminder of how she’d failed. Never once had she thought of praying for her enemies.
Judith turned on her side and plumped her pillow, intent on getting some sleep, when the faint sound of a bell drifted through her open window. It rang unevenly, as though moved by wind rather than human hands. Remembering how the church bell rang during the storm a few weeks earlier, she climbed to the foot of her bed and looked through the window to check the weather.
The quiet that greeted her filled her chest with apprehension. In the waning moonlight, the trees stood like attentive sentinels, their motionless branches attesting to the calm night.
But something, or someone, was ringing the church’s bell.
Judith pulled on jeans under her nightshirt and slipped into her shoes. She went out of Beverly’s house and rushed through the woods, the branches slapping her face as she ran along the now familiar path to the church.
An unnatural glow rose above the tree line and a fist of dread squeezed her heart. Not the church. Not her grandfather’s dear, little church. She ran faster, her chest aching from the exertion, until her foot caught on a root. Pain shot through her left ankle as she fell on the hard-packed dirt. The church bell rang again, louder this time, as if calling for help. Judith pushed to her feet and swiped the dirt from her sweaty face.
She’d known it had been possible, had known the high price she’d pay if she allowed her grandfather’s church to act as a lure, but the possible destruction of the church bit the tender places of her heart. As she neared the clearing, the smell of smoke drifted towards her. “No,” she moaned as she staggered forward.
Where was Jacob? The cabin was closer to the church than Beverly’s house. If he’d stayed at the cabin, surely he would have heard something. Had he called for help? Was he all right?
At last, Judith reached the clearing and saw what she’d feared the most. Her labored breath caught in her throat at the sight of the church engulfed in flames. Part of one wall had fallen and the roof flickered dangerously. Flames climbed the steeple, their heat causing the bell to cry its mournful plea.
The light from the fire silhouetted figures gathered near three vehicles. Were the firefighters already there? Why weren’t they doing something?
Judith ran towards the group. Maybe Jacob was with them and could tell her when help would arrive. But as she neared the people, a man’s voice called from behind her.
“Hey! Stop right there.”
Judith turned towards the voice. The man tackled her, and her face hit the ground hard. Her eyes watered as she struggled to get up, but the man sprawled his heavy body on top of hers. She lifted her head towards the people who now jogged to where she lay on the ground.
“That’s Isaiah Beecham’s granddaughter,” said a man wearing cowboy boots. “I thought you said the cabin was empty.”
“It was,” Judith’s attacker replied.
Empty? Where was Jacob?
“Now what are we supposed to do?” asked the booted man.
The man on top of her let out a growl of annoyance. “Go get your wife.”
The booted man loped away.
Judith struggled under her attacker’s weight. How naïve she’d been to not realize that these people were the arsonists. Maybe she could get a look at his face, or memorize the license plates of the vehicles.
“Keep still,” the man snarled, “or I’ll have to tie you up.”
“Get off me!” Judith shouted and pushed against the man.
“Calm down, Judith!”
She froze. The man knew her? It didn’t sound like Dwight’s voice, but she could be wrong. Maybe it was one of his brothers.
“You’re hurting me,” she yelled again.
“I am not, but if you don’t lie still somebody might be forced to hurt you.”
A woman’s voice sounded nearby. “I can’t believe you screwed this up.”
“I’m telling you, the cabin was empty,” Judith’s attacker said. “I don’t know where she came from, but she wasn’t in the cabin.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Give me your gun.”
They were armed?
Judith’s blood chilled as fear replaced anger and grief.
“I’m going to get up now,” the man said, “but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay where you are until we’re gone.”
“Leave her to me,” the woman said. “I don’t have a problem with shooting her.”
The memory of her mother’s blood pooling on the kitchen floor sprang into Judith’s mind. Would someone find her body the same way? Please don’t let it be Jacob, she prayed silently,
or Keneisha. No one should be haunted by that image.
Her attacker got up with a groan and air rushed into Judith’s lungs. She rolled to her side, but the woman put her foot on Judith’s neck.
“Just stay there, Judith. As soon as the others are gone, I’ll let you up.”
And then what? Shoot her?
Judith heard cars and trucks start up and drive away. The woman slid her foot away. “OK, you can get up now.”
Judith pushed to her hands and knees and tried to catch her breath, certain she was about to be killed. If she died, her father would be alone.
Beverly might blame herself for asking Judith to get involved in this fight.
Keneisha would learn a hard lesson about the evil of hatred and violence.
And Jacob, sweet, darling Jacob, would grieve for her.
The woman nudged Judith with her foot. “I said you can get up now.”
Judith rose to her feet, and then stumbled a bit as she fought for her balance. She could run into the surrounding forest, but that wouldn’t stop the woman from shooting. Who was this woman who held the power of life and death in her hands?
Judith turned and saw the face of her killer.
“Remember me?” the woman asked with a confident smirk. “You think my name’s Lily White. You let me take all the photos I wanted of your church. You don’t know my real name and you don’t know my sister’s real name, either. Did you really think our real names were Lily and Rose?”
Judith looked at the only vehicle left in the clearing. Perhaps she could see the license plate.
Lily followed her gaze. “Recognize that old truck? It’s got a dent on the right side. My husband got in a bad accident a few weeks ago. He had to run someone off the road.”
There was no license plate on the truck.
Lily could simply drive away and Judith would have no way of identifying her.
“Remember all those photos I took? They helped us locate the surveillance cameras you put all over this place. We disabled them. And your guard? He was as easy to fool as you are. A phone call was all it took to get him away from here.”
Jacob was safe.
Judith’s breath rushed out of her as that knowledge solidified in her racing mind.
A loud groan sounded from the burning church as the final walls collapsed and the roof caved in. No one had called for help. Nothing would be left of her grandfather’s church.
“You were so nice to us that day,” the woman said with a sneer, “I almost hate to burst your bubble. But you’ve got to learn the truth. We burn their churches to keep them scared. The last thing we need is traitors who cross the line and help our enemies.”
Judith threaded her fingers through her hair. “Why are you doing this?”
“If we don’t keep the blacks in their places, they’ll take everything away from us. Every once in a while, they need a reminder that we have the power to destroy them.”
Judith fisted her hands at her sides. “Get off my property.”
The woman laughed in her face.
Judith’s fists itched with the desire to hit the woman. She wanted to push Lily to the ground and restrain her until the sheriff could take her to jail. Anger popped up the length of her spine. How could she keep the woman here?
Judith ran to the pickup that had run her off the road. If the keys were in the ignition, she could drive the truck away. But the keys were gone.
The woman approached, dangling the keys from her finger. “I’m not the stupid one here.” She slid behind the steering wheel and closed the truck door. “Remember what I told you, Judith. Stay with your own kind. Your life will be a lot easier if you do.”
Judith watched the truck pull away, memorizing every detail of the vehicle’s color and body style. The fire had almost burned itself out. There was no need to hurry to the cabin or back to Beverly’s house in order to call for help. All that was left of the church her grandfather had built was glowing shards of wood and cinders. Acrid smoke hung over the ruins like forlorn ghosts.
Judith collapsed and let the tears come. In the last few minutes, the church had been destroyed and her life had been threatened. Without the surveillance cameras, she was the only witness. But what did she have to report?
Three people, maybe more. No license plate numbers. No names.
And she’d let them in.
Anger warred with grief inside of Judith’s mind. She’d risked her grandfather’s church and lost. Despite the years she’d shied away from strangers and hidden from danger, she’d learned nothing.
****
Jacob sped down the highway. The truck’s headlights cut through the darkness like a butter knife through a log, but Jacob paid no heed. He knew the road well and nothing would stop him from getting back to Judith as quickly as possible.
The call from the sheriff’s office had been a ruse. No one there had known anything about it. There was only one reason someone wanted him away from the cabin and he’d fallen for it.
He hadn’t hesitated this time. He hadn’t asked to speak directly to either Sheriff Miller or Mark. He’d taken the caller at his word and had left the church unguarded. There was little doubt what he’d find once he got back, but he prayed he was wrong.
Jacob’s truck bounced down the dirt road as he headed straight for the church. He was going much too fast for the potholed road but he couldn’t slow down. He thought of the cameras the FBI had placed around the property. If the arsonists had struck that night, surely something would be on the videos.
A vehicle without its lights on suddenly materialized on the road. Jacob’s throat tightened as he swerved to avoid a head-on collision. His truck bucked and smashed into the low-hanging tree limbs that bracketed the narrow road. With an earsplitting crash, a branch pierced the windshield and Jacob banged his head against the driver’s side window. Pain burrowed through his head and down his neck while his thoughts spun like a warped disc.
A car racing down a dirt road without its headlights on couldn’t be good.
Blood trickled down his forehead and blurred his vision. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and put the truck in reverse. He couldn’t afford to wait until his head cleared. He had to get to the church. He rounded the curve that lead to the clearing, and braked hard. A hollow feeling rose in his chest, as if his heart and lungs had retreated to a safer place. The church was a smoky heap of charred ruins. Once again, he was too late. He’d failed again.
He’d promised himself he’d be the witness the FBI needed, but instead he’d allowed himself to be lured away.
How could he have failed again?
He’d hesitated before and it had cost a boy’s life. He hadn’t hesitated this time, but the arsonists had done their worst, anyway.
Jacob cut the engine and climbed out of his truck on shaky legs. After several steadying breaths, he reached for his cell phone and called Chief Dutton. The firefighters and deputies would be on the scene soon.
He ended the call to the fire chief and hung his head. How would he ever tell Judith he’d failed when she’d needed him? The dying fire popped, sending up a shower of sparks, but other than that, the night was quiet. Then he heard the sobs. Was that a woman? He walked slowly towards the sound. Then he saw a shape hunched on the ground.
He broke into a run. “Judith?”
Her head lifted and she turned her dirt-streaked face towards him.
Jacob’s heart squeezed at the sight of her tears.
Judith struggled to her feet and rushed towards him.
Had the arsonists hurt her?
“Judith,” he yelled again as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right?”
Judith turned her face into his chest. “I heard the bell,” she said between sobs. “The fire made the bell ring.”
No, no, no, Jacob repeated to himself. If only she’d stayed at Beverly’s house.
“I came to see who was ringing the bell, but the church was on fire.”
Jacob stroked her
hair, willing her to calm down so he could assess her injuries. “Are you hurt?”
Judith shook her head. “No. But Jacob…the church…”
“I know,” he said into her hair. “It’s OK, Judith. We’ll rebuild it.”
“But I knew the lady who burned it.”
The lady?
“It was the lady from the historical society. Remember? The one who took all those photos.”
“It’s OK, sweetheart. The cameras probably recorded everything.”
Judith shook her head again. “No. They disabled the cameras. Oh, Jacob. I let them in.”
What was she talking about?
“I’ve got to call the sheriff, Jacob. And Mark. I’ve got to tell them what happened.”
“I’ve already called Chief Dutton. He’ll inform everyone else. As soon as you’ve been checked out you can tell them everything.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “But you’re bleeding. What happened to your head?”
“It’s nothing.” Jacob swept her up in his arms and carried her towards his truck. He’d believe she was fine when he got her into the light where he could see for himself.
****
The morning sunlight slanted through the cabin’s uncovered windows. Judith sat on the couch. Sheriff Miller and Agent Grey sat across from her, and Jacob sat nearby, having his head wound tended by an EMT.
A deputy walked through the back door with Special Agent Charles Lawson in tow.
“Did you get anything?” Mark Grey asked his partner.
“Still checking,” Lawson answered as he sat at the kitchen table and opened a laptop computer.
“But the cameras,” Judith said, “weren’t they disabled?”
“Two of them are definitely out of commission,” Lawson answered. “But they didn’t find the others.”
Judith’s gaze connected with Jacob’s. Perhaps the cameras had recorded something after all. But Jacob’s expression remained neutral.
Sheriff Miller handed several sheets of drawing paper to his deputy. “Miss Robertson made sketches of the women who came to visit. Make copies and get it to the other deputies along with this drawing of the truck that ran Miss Robertson off the road and the boots one of the suspects was wearing. We might get lucky and find them.” The deputy nodded and left the room.
From The Ashes Page 21
