The Lies We Believe: A Christian Suspense Novel

by T. K. Chapin

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MY PHONE RANG TWO DAYS later with an interested buyer for my red '64 Camaro. I had listed it in the local newspaper, and more recently, online. It had been almost four months since I had finished the restoration project on the Camaro, and I had only shown it to a few semi-interested prospects. This specific car was one I needed to sell quickly as my bank account was a bit drier than I preferred it. I had invested heavily within the last couple of months, and liquid funds were a bit on the short side.

  The guy I was meeting today sounded a bit younger on the phone than I would have liked, but I knew there was still a chance he had money, and money spoke louder than any of my assumptions. They guy drummed on and on about how he had been searching for the perfect vehicle for his personality and that when he saw the listing for the Camaro, he felt it called to his soul.

  "That's great," I said, trying to cut him off on the phone. "When do you want to check it out?" I wanted to make the sale before five o'clock, when Emily was due over at my place for dinner.

  "How's three sound to you?"

  "Sounds good. See you then." Hanging up, I walked into the living room and looked over at Milo as he sat atop the couch at the windowsill. He glanced over at me for a moment and then returned his eyes outside. That cat lived a life I envied. Napping daily and only opening his eyes long enough to eat and find a new place to nap—what a life.

  Going through the front door, I shut it behind me and headed around back to the shop. There were still a few hours left before my buyer would be showing up, and that meant a little bit more work could be had in the day.

  As I stepped into the shop, I noticed I had forgotten to turn the small fan off that hung off the shelf right above the workbench. Walking over, I turned the switch off and my eyes caught a glance of the picture that was nailed on the wall. I smiled. It was a picture of my dad and me when I was just a young tyke. I was only three years old in that picture. My dad was bent down on one knee, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. We were posing for the picture right in front of that beauty known as Elizabeth, his 1967 Dodge Charger, black with two white racing stripes. Dad always said the 60s was the decade for cars with style. Now that I'm in my forties and restoring classics, I couldn't agree more with the sentiment. The picture was worn with age, much like my dad toward the end of his life. I knew he’d be thrilled to know I was restoring classics now.

  My dad had always wanted to quit his job at the factory and restore old cars for a living, but he never caught a break. He was thrilled when I talked about starting it up. It was too bad I didn’t have the gumption to do it before he passed away.

  Walking over to the truck, I twisted the switch on for the light that was hanging from the hood of the truck, and I began to work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A PAIR OF CARGO SHORTS, flip-flops and a Life's a beach tank top climbed out from a newer-looking model silver Mercedes in my driveway. This man was no doubt trying to relive his youth. He propped up his sunglasses to rest them on top of his swooshy salt and peppered brown hair. He started to walk down the driveway.

  Leaving the seat of my white wicker chair on the porch, I walked down the steps and out to greet him with a handshake.

  "You must be Ron?" he said, releasing from our handshake.

  "If you're paying in cash, I'll be whoever you want." I followed up with a hearty-laugh, and he laughed too, which made me like him a little more than nothing.

  "My name is Jake."

  "Come with me, Jake. I'll show you the Camaro." We went over to garage, and I pulled open the large door to reveal all the cars.

  "This is impressive, Ron." His voice carried enthusiasm as he peered across my collection. I couldn't help but let a little pride rise in me as he admired the cars I had restored. Not a lot of people saw my cars, and even fewer reached out to me after a sale. It was nice to have a little appreciation for the work I did.

  Joining him in the view, I smiled and decided to let him in on a secret I didn’t share with all my buyers. "I fall in love with each car I work on. Each one even has a name."

  He walked right up and over to the Camaro and put his hand on it, then looked over his shoulder at me. "What's her name?"

  "That'd be Sherry. She'll take you for a ride you'll never forget, but take good care of her and she'll love you forever."

  "That's rich." He turned around and looked directly at me. “She’s gorgeous, Ron.” His eyes shifted back to the Camaro. "Can I take her for a spin? I promise to have her back by ten."

  I laughed and pulled the keys from my pocket and dropped them in the palm of his hand. "I like you, Jake." I laughed, admiring his young spirit as I continued. "Back by ten. Ha! How about you drive, and I'll come with?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ARRIVING BACK FROM THE TEST drive, I noticed my daughter's car was in the driveway. She was early.

  "That's my daughter's car. I'd love to introduce you to her, Jake."

  He didn't reply, just nodded and parked the Camaro next to his Mercedes in the driveway. My daughter wasn't outside, but before I took him in to meet her, we talked price. We negotiated on the price until we found one we were both happy with, which made me glad and made me like him even more.

  We shook on it, an old-fashioned business agreement. I liked him. He had a way about him that made me automatically trust him.

  "When do you want to pick it up?" I asked, smiling as I took a glance over at the Camaro.

  "Emily can drive it, right?" His eyebrows were raised, his eyes focused behind me.

  Confusion descended onto my mind like a rapidly rising flood. I turned to my house and saw her on the porch. She came down the steps and over to the two of us.

  "Hey, Daddy. This is Henry."

  "Wait." Rubbing my forehead for a second, I tried to process. "You said your name was Jake, not Henry."

  "I didn't want to blow the surprise."

  "So you don't even want the car?" My voice was edged, my anger growing by the second.

  "No, no, no!" He said, shaking his hands. "I do! I love it, and I'm still buying it. Everything I told you was true other than my name."

  "Oh." My mind was still trying to wrap itself around everything. I felt lied to. I felt duped.

  Henry's cellphone rang and pulled him away, leaving Emily and me alone for a moment in the driveway.

  "What do you think, Dad?" Emily's eyes were wide, filled with excitement and eagerness. The moments leading up until knowing who he actually was, I loved the guy. My eyes fell over on Henry and I shook my head.

  "That guy is Henry from the cult, right?"

  "Cult? Church, Dad. It’s a church!"

  "Yeah, whatever." My heart pounded in my ears, and my throat began to tighten. "Is he your . . . boyfriend?"

  She smiled and shook her head. "Not exactly. Not yet, anyway. I do like him a lot though. He's a good leader and has a loving heart. He donates sixty percent of all the money that comes into the community. He loves people and just wants to give to and love everybody."

  My heart had been deceived upon first meeting Henry, but it wasn't now. I could see clearly. All of this stuff and good works was just an image he wanted others to see. My eyes turned to my sweet little girl, and a bit of my true feelings seeped out in my expression, my eyebrows furrowed. "Ems, you have to be careful with this guy. You are half his age."

  She shook her head. "You don't support me. Of course, his age is a problem. You liked him before you knew his real name. I knew you would be like this!"

  Hanging up with his phone call, Henry came back over to us. Pulling Emily into an embrace, he dipped his chin and looked into her eyes. "You okay? You seem upset."

  "My dad doesn't think Lighthouse is a good place. He called it a cult." My face went red as I thought, way to make me feel awkward, Emily.

  He nodded and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "You should come see the community for yourself, Mr. Fields. I feel that you'd be less uneasy if you just saw it for yourse
lf. We at Lighthouse are excited to have Emily joining our family and home. We feel she will fulfill an amazing role there with us in our community."

  My insides jumped as he said the word community too many times with my daughter’s name intermingled with it. "What?"

  "I didn't tell him that part yet," Emily said gently toward Henry as she looked up at him. She came over to me and grabbed my hands in hers. "Dad, I'm moving into the community at Lighthouse. They have individual dwellings for each resident there. Each person at Lighthouse has a role unique and special to them. I spent the last two days there, and I have to say, Dad, it was so nice."

  My heart was twisting as I feared this cult had already brainwashed my daughter. Making eye contact with Henry, I said with the most level voice I could, "Can I have a word with my daughter alone?"

  "Yes. In fact, I feel I’d better get going. Emily, I'll see you later." He came closer to her and kissed her lips and then had the nerve to reach a hand out to me to shake. "It was nice meeting you. I'll have a courier out within the hour with the payment for the car."

  "Sale is off, Henry." I didn't shake his hand. Instead, I turned and started for the house. I felt angry beyond words.

  "Very well," he said, putting both of his hands up.

  I could hear Emily gush apologies behind me as they walked over to his car and he got in. Everything he did was calm, calculated. He knew I wouldn't shake his hand and it'd pull Emily in closer to him. He was good, really good, but I could see beneath that surface. He was a fraud, a counterfeit. I knew what Scriptures said, and if what a church was saying wasn't Jesus, it was false.

  As Henry left my driveway, I made my way into the house. It wasn't long before I could hear Emily coming up those front steps in a fury.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  SITTING DOWN IN MY RECLINER, I pulled my Bible from the small table beside my chair. My fingers trembled. I wasn't sure if my daughter could handle the truth I was about to tell her. She didn't last time. Slowing my fingers as I came to Romans, I stopped at chapter sixteen just as the screen door of my front porch slammed shut behind Emily.

  "I want to read something to you, Ems."

  She let out a dry laugh as she came over and sat down on the couch. "How could you do that to me, Dad? After everything?"

  "I—"

  "Save it." Her eyes looked at my Bible in hand, and then back at me. "What? You think you can read a few verses from your Bible and fix me? You might have raised me up reading the Bible and quoting Scripture at me, but I have abandoned that faith. It has no impact on me or my life anymore. I've seen Lighthouse do things in the last week I never saw your dead religion do in my entire life."

  My heart ached as I looked at her with pleading eyes. "Can I just share this little piece of passage? Would that be too much?"

  She bit her lip. I could see she wanted to say "no" right away, but then also I saw in her eyes that she wanted to say "yes." Some part of her was still holding on, just like the promise God makes about raising children in the church.

  Finger pressed against the page, I slid down to verse seventeen. "Romans 16:17-18. I urge you, brothers and sisters, to watch out for those who cause divisions and put obstacles in your way that are contrary to the teaching you have learned. Keep away from them. For such people are not serving our Lord Christ, but their own appetites. By smooth talk and flattery, they deceive the minds of naive people."

  Standing up, she immediately went for the door, but I set my Bible down and leaped from my chair, stopping her at the door. My heart raced and fear tore at me.

  "Wait."

  She started to cry. She was scared, confused, and running from the truth.

  "You couldn't just look past yourself for a moment, could you, Dad? You had to do this. Had to make me feel like garbage for my beliefs. Typical." She wiped her eyes and shook her head. "There’s this girl named Jess I met at the community, and she said her parents completely supported her going there." She shrugged a shoulder as a frown pulled on the corners of her mouth. With a cracked voice and broken eyes, Emily said, "I just wanted to know how that felt. I thought maybe, maybe I could feel that once. Guess I was wrong."

  Emily left out the door. I tried to stop her again, but she moved out of the way and kept going. I even followed her outside, but she didn't pay me any attention or my words of warning.

  "Emily, this isn't right."

  She got in her car and slammed the door. Turning the key over, she rolled the window down. "Goodbye, Dad."

  "Don't forget, I'm always here for you."

  The image of my daughter's broken and disappointed face was the last time I saw her before she went away to live at Lighthouse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  TERESA CAME RIGHT OVER AFTER I called and told her what happened. She was understanding, sympathetic, and even sat and listened to me go on for close to an hour about the Bible, Henry, and Emily. Then, she suddenly stood up from the couch and walked out the front door without a word.

  Confused, I jumped up from the recliner and followed her. Standing in the doorway, I rested an arm up on the frame and watched as she went toward her car.

  “Where are you going?”

  Stopping, she smiled at me and rested her arms across the top of her car. “Somewhere a little less depressing.”

  I laughed lightly. “Sounds great.”

  “You coming?” She raised an eyebrow, then proceeded to get into her car.

  I couldn’t help but smile and be a little intrigued by what exactly was going on here. Shutting the door behind me, I ran out to the car and got in. Teresa’s smile softened a bit of the hardness that had been growing since earlier when Emily left.

  When she pulled into Wonderland Family Fun Center, I couldn’t help but smile remembering all the memories the place held for myself and my family.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Parking, she turned to me. “How is your putting?”

  I smiled. “It’s all right.”

  We got inside and got our clubs and balls along with a couple of sodas and went down into the basement to start a round of black light miniature golf. There were teenagers all over the place, but at least the music was enjoyable, all classic seventies and eighties.

  “You go first,” she insisted.

  “Okay, okay.” Taking my green ball, I went and set it down on the green, lining it up on the yellow dot. Then, I bent my knees and looked at the hole. It was a straight shot, but there were a few slopes that could prove troublesome. Standing, I walked over for a closer look at the slopes.

  Teresa began laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, turning to her.

  She shook her head as she covered her mouth. “It’s just a game, Ron. Don’t take it so seriously.”

  I laughed and nodded to her. “Sorry. I’ll relax.”

  Returning to my starting point, I took the shot and the ones that followed without so much careful study of the terrain. Teresa was right. It was just a game, and I needed to relax.

  After eight holes of black light golf, we took a break to go get a refill on our drinks. As we waited in line, I turned to Teresa as I was overwhelmed with thankfulness. Getting out of the house and away from where everything had gone down was exactly what I needed. “Thanks for bringing me out. I’m having a good time.”

  She stepped closer and kissed me on the cheek. “It was the least I could do. Seeing you so upset about Emily broke my heart, Ron. I want you to be happy, or at least as much as you can be.”

  I saw something else there on her face buy I couldn’t quite place it. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I haven’t told you this, but . . . I had a kid once.”

  “Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean once?”

  “I gave her up when she was born. I was very young. It was the hardest thing I ever did, but time really does help, even if it doesn’t feel that way right away. I care about you, Ron, and I’ll be here for you.”


  “Thank you.” Pulling her in closer to me, I kissed her, letting her soft lips melt away the pain I felt inside. I wasn’t sure how long Emily would be in that community or if I’d hear from her again anytime soon, but I knew with the help of God and the comfort of Teresa, I’d manage.

  PART II

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ONE YEAR LATER

  THE PHONE RANG, WAKING ME out of a dead sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I saw it was just after three on the alarm clock on my bedside nightstand. Reaching over, I grabbed the phone off the hook and brought it over to my ear, still lying there in the dark of night.

  "Hello?" My voice was heavy.

  "Dad! It's me, Emily." Her words were but a whisper, but despair and panic dripped from my daughter's lips. It had been twelve terribly long months since she left to go live in the community, and not a day had gone by that I didn't think of her. She hadn't reached out to me even once since that day.

  "What's going on?" Jolting upright, I sat up in the bed and draped my legs over the edge as my heart raced. Reaching for the lamp on my nightstand, I turned the light on as a million questions ran through my head. Combing a hand through my hair, I tried to collect my thoughts.

  She spoke. "I'm scared. I—"

  Click.

  A shiver of worry ran the length of my spine as the dial tone blared in my ear. What happened? Calling the number back, it rang busy. Hurrying out of bed, I went into the kitchen and turned on the light. My trembling fingers glided through the tops of envelopes and papers in the holder on the counter and, then I found it. The phone number for the community's front desk. I had tried Emily a few times over the last year, but I only got her voicemail in her dwelling each time I was connected.