Cast the First Stone (Red Lake Series Book 2)

by Rich Foster

  Calley had heard many sermons on faith. She had listened to people share as they told of God’s sustaining love during hardship. Faith was easy when it was others facing trials; now she struggled with doubts. To fend them off she repeated the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father who art in heaven,” she began. When she came to the line, “your will be done, on earth as in heaven”, she faltered. Nonetheless, she struggled on to the finish and upon reaching, “your power and glory forever. Amen,” she found some comfort in the familiar words.

  She allayed the rest of her fears with a tranquillizer. Leaving the bills and legal papers on the table, she went upstairs, where she turned out the light and crept into bed. She could only wait.

  *

  It was a beautiful day for driving. It hadn’t snowed in several days. The plows and sand trucks were out. The highway was in good condition.

  Will Farron drove. He and Reverend Leeds passed through Red Lake on their way to Beaumont. Christmas decorations hung from the light poles downtown. In the main square a twenty-foot Christmas tree sparkled, clad in its ornaments.

  “Look at that! Look!” shouted Leeds indignantly.

  Will followed Leeds’s jabbing finger. In the park he saw a manger scene with the wise men, sheep and baby Jesus. Next to it was a large menorah, a banner proclaiming, “Celebrate the Festival of Lights”, and next to that a display celebrating Kwanzaa. Farron started laughing. To him it looked like a religious supermarket.

  “It’s not funny!” Leeds sputtered. “It’s these godless liberals! They're destroying everything that is sacred. Why do they let just anyone take over the park?”

  “What do decorated trees have to do with Christmas?” countered Will.

  Leeds ignored the logic of Farron’s question.

  “There is right and wrong, and that is wrong!” he declared emphatically. Farron, wisely, let the subject drop.

  They left Red Lake climbing over the mountains and through the pass that went to Beaumont.

  “This lawyer we’re meeting is supposed to be good. Locally they say there is none better.”

  “What was his name?” asked Leeds.

  “Parks. J. Travis Parks. He was the local legal counsel for Lilly Chandler.”

  “You mean the woman who murdered her husband?”

  “No, she was acquitted. Parks brought in a high power New York attorney and they got her off. Actually, I heard her husband later turned up and is living in Red Lake.”

  “Well, I say we do whatever it takes. I can’t let this unfortunate accident destroy my church.”

  The Reverend’s use of the possessive tense struck Farron as peculiar.

  Beaumont’s most famous murder case had made Travis Parks prosperous. As co-counsel, he benefited from Channing Webster’s stunning success, in winning Lilly Chandler’s acquittal. A plentiful supply of new clients followed. Travis studied Channing’s cases, read his briefs, and learned. His natural talent for being cutthroat blossomed. Soon hi firm expanded to include several junior partners.

  “Why should I want to defend you?” Parks abruptly asked from behind his broad granite topped desk. The rich leather chairs in which Farron and Leeds were seated, bespoke both success and comfort and yet Leeds squirmed in discomfort.

  “Well, because it’s not right! Why should we be destroyed because of an unfortunate accident?”

  “There are many unfortunate events in life, Reverend, as I am sure you are aware. But legal defenses cost money. A poor defense may be cheap, but a good defense is not. Are you prepared to spend fifty thousand dollars?”

  The Reverend’s eyes bulged, before he regained his composure. “Surely there are other possibilities.”

  “Yes, you can find another attorney.”

  Leeds realized that any hope of negotiation was already lost, if he hoped to retain Parks services.

  “We are not a wealthy community, Mr. Parks. We can, however, offer you payments.”

  “The streets of heaven may be paved with gold, Reverend Leeds, but on earth, lawyers take cash. Take out a mortgage on your church.”

  Leeds looked to Farron, who shrugged.

  Lester said, “I believe we can commit to doing whatever it takes to make this case go away.”

  Parks pushed the intercom. “Sheryl. Type up our standard contract for the New Life Redemption Church.” He leaned back in his chair, as if he were thinking. This was only for show. As soon as his office was contacted, his people been began checking out the case.

  “Our best strategy is to cut our risks. They have a strong case. But actual damages would only be for the hospital and funeral costs incurred. Your insurance would readily cover those. It is compensation for pain and suffering that we need to keep minimal, in the event that they should prevail. Quite simply, if we cannot beat their claim, we must attack Mr. Goodman.”

  “The man’s a drunk and a wife beater!”

  “So I have heard, Reverend. But it would be best if people did not hear it from your lips. You must be all sympathy for the poor man. Though, if someone should name these shortcomings, feel free to express your sympathy for those individuals who suffer from moral failures and addictions.”

  Leeds smiled slightly, he understood the lawyer implicitly. He disliked Goodman. He hadn’t forgotten nor forgiven the man’s unfounded and obscene accusations. They still rankled in his heart. Goodman’s tragic loss did little to quell the animosity that Lester felt toward him.

  Parks continued, “If we can keep the condition of the bus out of court, we can blame the accident on the driver, Jason Haskell.”

  “But Calley’s a widow. She’s got four kids to support!” said Will. “You can’t dump this on Jason, she’ll lose her house!”

  “Would you rather lose the church, or have one woman lose a house? Hopefully, it won’t come to either but let me make myself clear; my job is to defend the church. Period!”

  If this position caused Reverend Leeds any discomfort, he kept those concerns to himself.

  *

  There was little holiday joy at the Haskell home. The church sent over an offering, but with people out of work and their own holiday needs, it was both well intended and meager. Calley knew other folks had their own problems, but she thought bitterly, whatever those problems were, they did not live with an empty chair, an empty bed, and an empty bank account.

  She took a job at the hospital. Quickly, she found that an LVN did not earn enough. After paying for childcare and transportation, there was barely enough left for daily living.

  The mortgage was due on the twentieth. She resolved to talk with the bank manager but kept putting the call off. Even if she forewent buying Christmas presents, she could not make the payment. Knowing she was robbing Peter to pay Paul, she bought a simple gift for each child. When wrapping them, she marked the tags, “from Mommy and Daddy with love.”

  Calley worked Christmas Eve day. Most people wanted the day off. She needed the double time pay. During her lunch break she summoned the courage to call the bank. She held little hope for holiday mercies from them. A banker in a poor working area, heard every possible tale of woe, both real and imagined.

  Calley was put through to Mr. Stanton. She began to apologize for being late, but he interrupted her.

  “Your mortgage was paid for this month. In fact, I was instructed to tell you it will be paid every month until you inform us you can pay it yourself.”

  “Paid? By whom?”

  “Someone who wishes to help you and your family. But also wishes to remain anonymous.”

  Calley was speechless. Jason and she had no friends who could afford to do this. The other young families barely got by. Was this God’s providence? If it were, she thought with some bitterness, she would rather live on the street and have Jason back.

  Her twelve-hour shift ended at seven PM. By half past the hour, she pulled into her drive. In the front window a large Christmas tree stood where there had been none. Calley hurried into the kitchen. Her excited children surrounded her
shouting, “Mommy, mommy! Santa’s come!”

  Anne, the girl babysitting, entered from the living room.

  “Where did this tree come from?” Calley asked.

  “A van arrived this afternoon. They delivered groceries, a stack of gifts, and the tree. Sarah showed me where you stored the decorations. We spent the afternoon decking it out.”

  “Who sent it?” she asked querulously.

  “I don’t know, but there’s a card.”

  Anne handed her an envelope that lay on the table. Tears flowed down Calley’s cheeks as she read the unsigned note, which simply said, “Remember the widows and orphans.”

  That night, the Haskell family celebrated Christmas. There were new outfits for each child and toys besides, but not to excess. Someone was both sufficiently wise and careful that it should appear as kindness, not pity. By six the next morning Calley would be on her way to work, but that night, despite her sorrow, she found joy watching her children’s delight brought by the kindness of strangers.

  *

  January was bitter cold. The winter sun now lay so low in the southern sky that for two months direct sunlight never hit the town. Desolation Peak’s long shadow lay across Mason Forks. The community was hunkered down. Piles of snow formed defensive walls around the houses. Wood smoke from chimneys rose and then lingered over the area. People moved about inside their cars and trucks. Ten minutes walking outside would cause frostbite.

  At the hospital Calley looked in on June. The respirator was gone, along with the oxygen lines, most of the monitors, and IV’s. She had spent thirty days in a drug-induced coma. The doctors began weaning her out of it before Christmas. Christmas Day June awoke, only to learn she had lost her mother and sister.

  Despite June’s father suing her, Calley felt a kinship with June in their mutual loss. So when she came out of the coma, Calley dropped by June’s room.

  Both of the young girl’s legs and one arm still hung in the air, supported by weighted traction lines running to the frame overhead. The bandages on her head were gone, but the hair was shorn. A welting scar marked where the doctors had entered her skull to relieve the pressure.

  June recognized Calley as Sara’s mom, Mrs. Haskell who often helped in the Sunday school at church.

  They made light chitchat. After that, Calley dropped in whenever she worked.

  One morning there was a change.

  “How are you, June?” Calley asked, cheerfully, as she entered the room. June looked away.

  “Can I get you anything? Is something wrong?”

  June looked at her. Calley saw hate in her young eyes.

  “My father said I shouldn’t talk to you. He said that your husband, killed my sister and mother!”

  The comment deeply cut Calley. “He didn’t mean to, June. It was an accident.”

  June lie still, a pout on her lips, fighting back tears in her eyes. “Go away! I never want to see you again. I hate you!”

  Calley was emotionally crushed. The guilt she felt should not have been hers. She felt terrible.

  As asked, she did not try to see June again. Yet her sense of guilt caused her to follow the young girl’s progress. She learned June would eventually be transferred to a convalescent hospital. It was hoped, that with rehabilitation, she might learn to walk again.

  When February came, people turned to romance. Kevin Daniels and Jenny Langford were no different. They scheduled their wedding for the weekend following Valentine’s Day. The ceremony took place in the New Life Church.

  The young couple met at the State University. She was from Mason Forks. Kevin came from a similar community fifty miles away. The main difference being, one was a logging town and the other a quarry town.

  Jenny Langston wanted to be a missionary. Kevin Daniels wanted Jenny, so her dream became theirs, and they became a couple.

  In premarital counseling they expressed shared views on money, family, and God. The first did not matter, the second did, but the last always came first. Jenny’s fervency on the latter burned brighter than Kevin’s. She blindly trusted that, “all things work together for good for those who love the Lord.” Kevin had doubts. At times, it seemed to Kevin that God could be capricious, indifferent, or even hostile. He kept these views to himself.

  For the wedding, Desmond again polished the church. It shone more than one might think possible. A wedding reminded him of sermons describing how the Church was Christ’s bride. The ceremony made him happy, the same way God made him happy. Unlike many people, Desmond found joy in the simple fact of being alive. Most nights the prayer he prayed was simple, “Thank you God that I’m healthy, wealthy, and alive. And help those who don’t have that, to be like me.”

  He was not of the world but the church. In another age he might have lived as a monk. Arguments about politics did not concern him. He had no worries whether the stock market rose or fell. His wants were simple, so his unmet desires were few. He only worried about suffering when he saw it. If there was nothing he could do to alleviate it, he left the problem to God.

  The Daniels-Langford wedding went off without a hitch Saturday afternoon. The bride was as beautiful as she ever would be. The groom was nervous but proud. Reverend Leeds’s deep baritone voice read out the vows, “Do you Kevin take Jenny to be your lawfully wedded wife, and forsaking all others, to love honor and cherish her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

  “I do.”

  Reverend Leeds then read the same vow to Jenny and she too said, “I do.”

  “Then what God has joined together let no man put asunder. I pronounce you man and wife.”

  In the church basement, people congratulated them. The cake was cut. Kevin and Jenny, not wanting to be thought childish, refrained from the new trend of smashing it into each others face.

  The best man rose and toasted them with fruit punch, spiked only with Seven-Up.

  “To a long and happy life together!”

  Most said, “Cheers,” a few said, “Amen.”

  After which, Kevin announced that Jenny and he had decided to be missionaries. Jenny’s parents, Earl and Elly Langston smiled proudly. It was a dream they once had for themselves, that went unrealized.

  The couple traveled to Seattle on their honeymoon. When they returned, Jenny happily wrote thank you notes, while Kevin mounted their photos in an album. Neither of them dreamed that, before they could become missionaries, one of them would be murdered.

  *

  In Mason Forks, those not directly affected largely forgot the accident. But, for others, death brought changes, which remained a daily reminder of their loss. Financial problems loomed. The civil suit was scheduled to begin on the twenty-fifth of March.

  Calley wished the lawsuit were an unpleasant relative; that would quietly pack-up and go away. She was resigned to going to court without an attorney. She possessed little money and what equity there was in her house would not do much for her. The family coped economically, but only through the generosity of her unknown benefactor. Utilities, childcare, and food consumed most of her paycheck. Working and taking care of four children left her living on the ragged edge of exhaustion.

  On a morning that was hinting at the promise of spring to come, she received a letter dropping her as a defendant in the lawsuit. For Calley, it was a sign of God’s providence. But to Samuel Stein it was a calculated move. He did not want it to appear that Goodman was hounding a poor widow for revenge, but that he merely wanted just compensation from the church. Besides, Stein knew, he could always re-file against the Haskell Estate, if the case against the church failed.

  Robert Goodman returned to drinking at Moses’ Bar. He remained surly and belligerent. Moses grew tired of both and finally told him not to come back. He said it in such a way that there was no chance of Robert thinking he didn’t mean it.

  There were other bars, in other towns, but they were not his regular haunts. Like most drunks, Robert quickly adapted to drinking alone. The drap
es on his house remained closed. He had no visitors. Seldom did he go out.

  There were those in the village who felt he had a right to sue. The greater portion believed the accident was an act of God and Goodman was being mercenary by putting a price on the death of his wife and daughter. “He’ll just drink it up!” they would say.

  The medical bills for June’s care began to arrive during December. He let them pile up unopened. The mound grew during January.

  In February, Robert filed for bankruptcy. The filing listed his assets as an eighteen-year-old pick-up truck, the furniture in the house he rented, and forty-two dollars in his checking account. His petition was granted.

  Child protective services stepped into his life. They petitioned that June be made a ward of the state. Robert was either too drunk or too indifferent, to contest it. He failed to appear at the hearing. The custody order was granted.

  *

  Reverend Leeds worked hard during January and February, preaching hell and damnation for those who obstructed the Lord’s work. He dutifully passed the offering basket morning and evening, attempting to swell the coffers of the church before the pending lawsuit began.

  Grace Leeds noticed a gradual change in her husband. She hadn’t thought it possible but he increasingly saw the world in black and white. There were those who were in God’s will, and those who were not. He spoke for God. Anyone who disagreed was evil. Those who attacked his church were definitely of the Devil.

  At home, he ranted at the dinner table, damning pagans who would sue God. He could not understand why the Lord had failed to rain down fire and brimstone on his enemies. Grace foolishly dared to suggest that “to err is human, to forgive, divine.” Lester lectured her for half an hour about God’s judgment upon the unrighteous.

  For several years, doubts about her husband’s stability had troubled Grace. In the months following the accident her doubts turned to belief that he was not well.