Sara marveled over how she was able to appear so composed when she was itching to rake her nails down his lying face. "Well, it was a bad situation. I hope you aren't going to say anything about me and Dewey. I mean, it's over. There's no need to hurt anybody."
He made his eyes go wide, as though stunned she could even suggest such a thing. "Why, Sara. Don't you know that's the last thing I want?"
He put a big, beefy hand on her shoulder, and she gritted her teeth against the impulse to fling it off. She made herself stand there as he leaned into her face and said, "But you must be lonely, and I can take care of that if you'll let me. I'll make it worth your while financially, too, just like Dewey did. You keep me happy, and I'll keep you happy, understand?"
"I... I'll think about it." Her jaws were aching from having to keep her phony smile in place. "I guess we'd better be going. People will wonder what we're talking about."
"No one ever wonders about a deacon talking to a church member. Now when can we get together?"
"I... I'm not sure," she stammered nervously. "I have to think about it."
As though sent by her guardian angel, she saw Irene coming towards them.
"Don't take too long," Burch snapped, stepping away from her and changing his tone to continue loudly, "Well, it's great to see you here tonight, Sara. I hope you'll be back Sunday."
He put his arm around Irene as she joined them.
Beaming at Sara, Irene proudly exclaimed, "It was my little talk with you today at the laundromat that brought you out tonight, wasn't it, dear? Well, I'm glad you took it to heart." She patted her arm. "I'll expect to see you at circle meeting next month, too."
Irene told Burch they had to go, and Sara doggedly followed after them but kept her distance.
Whatever Luke had in mind, she hoped he moved fast because she didn't know how long she could keep up the charade.
* * *
Burch wasted no time in calling the next morning. "So when can we meet?"
Sara gritted her teeth. "I want more than a little fling, Burch. Dewey and me were together a long time." God, she hated talking to him about Dewey. It was a sacrilege.
"Dewey was just a farmer," he coldly reminded, "and now you figure you've got a chance to latch onto a rich lawyer for your new sugar daddy. Well, I need to see how good you are first."
She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. "I want it to be special. Not just a quickie in the back seat."
"How about meeting me at a motel in Birmingham?"
"That's not special enough."
He bit out each word like he was chewing up the side of a pork rib. "Then what do you want?"
She had talked to Luke late the night before, and he had told her what to say. "Will you meet me anywhere I want? Do anything I want?" She made her voice husky. "I like to do kinky things, Burch. I'm very playful."
His whispered "Oh, my god," was barely audible, but she heard and stifled a gag.
"You name it. Oh, babe, if you're as good as you're trying to make me think you are, we're going to be together a long, long time. And I'll treat you real good. You'll see."
Luke had also instructed her to string him along, and now the time had come for the showdown. "Call me this afternoon. I'll let you know then."
"Why can't we make a date now?"
"I need to make some arrangements." Luke had to make arrangements.
"Okay. But I warn you, make a definite date or that's it. I'll start the gossip rolling and, within a week, Dewey's widow will be spitting on his grave, and Tim will wring your neck for the two-timing whore you are."
She hung up, then dialed the sheriff's office, praying Luke would be there. He was, and she rushed to tell him Burch was playing right into her hands.
"Great. Meet me at the post office in half an hour. It'll look like we just happened to run into each other. I'll give you all the details then."
* * *
Forty minutes later Luke told Sara his plan, and she was so astonished she had to steady herself by leaning against the hood of his car. "Are you serious? You really want me to make a date to meet him in the church? Luke, I know he's meaner than a rattlesnake, but he is a deacon, and surely he'd balk at doing it in the church."
"Don't be so naive. He'd do it on the altar if he had to and not bat an eye. Now when does Tim go on the three to eleven shift again?"
"Monday."
"Perfect. When is Burch supposed to call again?"
"This afternoon."
"Good. Tell him to meet you at the church Monday night at seven. Tell him to walk, so his car won't be in the parking lot. If he asks how you plan to get in when the doors are locked, tell him you have a key because you do some volunteer work in the office once in a while. He won't question that. He's probably got one, too. And don't worry. You won't have to go all the way with him, but you may have to go pretty far."
"Why can't you just take him out in the woods and beat the hell out of him and tell him if he says one word about me you'll kill him next time? Why do I have to be involved at all?" She shuddered. "God, Luke, when I think about him putting his hands on me, I want to throw up."
"Trust me. If my plan works, and I believe it will, his life will be hell forevermore, but it's best you don't know the details till Monday night. I don't want you stewing about it."
"I'll be stewing enough thinking about having to let that creep paw me."
"Just keep telling yourself it's revenge for Dewey."
"I'll try," she said miserably. "Dear Lord, I'll try."
* * *
Yielding to the urge to see Emma Jean, Luke circled the laundromat several times waiting for Irene Cleghorn to leave. Emma Jean saw him through the window but couldn't hurry Irene.
"No way would I give up," he assured as they stepped into the back room for a quick kiss. "But why was she here so long? Don't tell me she was actually doing her own laundry."
"Oh, no chance of that. Her maid didn't show up again, and she's all to pieces worrying her good linens won't be ready for her bridge party this evening."
Emma Jean went into her routine of mimicking Irene, then fell silent to see how Luke was staring. "What's wrong? You don't think I'm being mean to make fun of her, do you?"
"No, it's okay. Do some more."
"More?"
"Yes. Talk like her some more. Say, 'I'm having a surprise party for Ramona Hampton'."
"Why? That's silly."
"Just do it. Please."
She did, and Luke laughed out loud and slammed a fist into his open palm. "Perfect. Just perfect. I didn't know till this minute how I was going to pull it off, but you just solved everything... if you'll do it."
"Anything," she said without hesitancy. Lord, there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
He explained in detail what he wanted.
She looked doubtful. "I don't know. It doesn't make sense, calling all those people and making them think I'm Irene. What happens when she isn't at the party? Won't folks wonder? And what about when she hears somebody pretended to be her?"
He put his hands on her shoulders. "You let me do all the worrying, okay? You just make the calls. You can start this afternoon. Have you got enough dimes for the pay phone?"
"Sure. The dryers take dimes. I always make sure I've got plenty for folks who need change."
He pressed his lips against her forehead. "You saved the day, honey."
Basking in his praise, she said without thinking, "Well, I'm surprised Sara didn't tell you how I could do Irene, especially since that's the time I messed up and let her know you told me about her and Dewey. I didn't mean to, mind you, but I was poking fun at Irene and said something about how I felt sorry for her husband, and Sara looked hurt. Then I remembered what you told me, and I apologized and said too much and she figured out I knew everything."
"You mean you told Sara that I confided that to you? Then she must have wondered why..."
"She did," Emma Jean said without guile. "And I just went ahead and tol
d her, 'cause I knew she'd guessed it, and she said she had, but we don't need to worry. She's such a good friend to you, Luke."
"I know that." Then, because of the seriousness of their situation, he felt compelled to prod, "You haven't told anyone else about us, have you?"
"Of course not. You and Sara are the only friends I've got in this town. And I don't see any harm in her knowing. She won't tell. And who knows? We might need her some time as a go-between. You know it's awful hard sometimes for us to get word to each other when we need to."
"I guess you're right." He put his arms around her, and she winced and drew back. "Has he hurt you again?" he asked sharply.
She tried to pass it off. "Oh, you know Rudy. He gets a little bullish sometimes and shoves me harder than he realizes. It's nothing. Now get along with you. I need to catch up on everything so I can start making those phone calls."
"I wish it didn't have to be this way. When I think of him hurting you..."
"Oh, it's not so bad," she lied, wriggling in his grasp. "Now let me go before somebody comes in."
He released her and swore, "That damn redneck is going to hurt you bad one day, and then I'll kill him."
Flustered, because he was standing so close, and she wanted so badly to throw herself in his arms, she feigned annoyance to hide what she was actually feeling. "Well, what would you have me do, Luke? Hit him back?"
"Leave him. I've told you that before."
"If I left him, I'd be leaving you, and I don't want to do that."
Luke, also waging an inner war of his own, lashed out, "You can't plan your life around me, Emma Jean. You knew how it was when we started this thing. We can't let it get away from us, so you better think of yourself and what kind of life you're going to have if you stay married to Rudy."
She was on the verge of tears. "If you're around to be my friend, I can stand it."
"Well, maybe I won't always be around."
"Then I guess I'll have to manage somehow, won't I?"
Their gazes locked in mingled anger and pain.
"I'd better get going," he said finally.
He was almost to the door but turned and saw how she was staring after him like the last mourner before a coffin lid closes.
Chapter 26
It was almost dark when Luke entered the church through a rear door. Once inside, there was enough light still filtering through the windows that he could see his way around. He was in the storage room, situated directly behind the baptismal pool which was sandwiched between velvet curtains. Choir robes hung on a rack along one wall with hymn books stacked neatly on shelves beneath.
The pool was flush with the floor, steps on each end. It was bigger than most, ten feet long, six feet wide and four feet deep. It was said the wife of Cleve Hampton-the-second, who had built the church, weighed over three hundred pounds and wanted to be the first person baptized in it. She had insisted on making sure it was large enough for her.
The pool stayed empty unless it was needed, so Luke turned on the valves to start water running. While it was filling he made sure the curtain on the other side behind the altar was tightly closed. He then entered the sanctuary through a side door and hurried past the neat rows of pews and up the red carpeted center aisle to switch on one light in the foyer. It would be enough that the ladies could find their way to a seat.
If Emma Jean followed all his instructions, the ladies would know to park a good distance away and walk to the church, slip inside, and be as quiet as possible as they waited for the party to begin. Even Reverend Lansky, who lived right next door, would not notice anything going on.
Luke had called Emma Jean just before she closed the laundromat. All the women she had called, while pretending to be Irene Cleghorn, had said they'd be there.
Satisfied the stage was set, he hurried to the storage room in time to let Sara in the back door before she panicked and thought he hadn't arrived yet.
"It's pitch dark in here," she whispered uneasily. "I can't see my hand in front of my face."
He took a small flashlight from his pocket and switched it on. "Just relax. I'll tell you everything you have to do."
When he finished, she groaned, "Oh, Luke, I don't know..."
"You have to. Otherwise he'll carry out his threat."
"But how will I know to time things to happen?"
"I'll be standing in the far corner, and when you hear what sounds like a hoot owl, you'll know it's time to start getting him in the pool. The rest is up to you. I'll be listening, and when he's in position, I'll yank the curtains open at the same time I turn on the light over the pool. The switch is close enough I can hit them both before Burch realizes what's happening.
"Now the second that light flashes on," he continued, "I want you to already have your back turned to the sanctuary and ready to pull yourself out of the pool. I'll move fast to get behind the curtain and pull you under it. There won't be time for you to get your clothes back on because we've got to get out of here fast. Go ahead and take them off now, and I'll have them bundled and ready by the back door."
"Now?" she echoed uncertainly.
"I can't very well gather them up in the dark later, and if you try to afterward, somebody is liable to come rushing back here and recognize you. Besides, you're going to be wet, remember?"
"But..."
"Just do it fast. He might walk in that door any second."
"But won't it look funny if I'm standing here naked? Won't he be suspicious if I look too eager?"
"He's so arrogant he probably expects you to be, but just in case..."He snatched a choir robe off the rack. "Put this on. He'll think it's sexy."
"Sexy?" she yelped, holding up the white robe. "Good grief, Luke. It's sick. Me in a choir robe acting like a slut."
"He'll love it. Hell, tell him it's your idea of being a virgin for him, the first time you're having him and all that kind of stuff."
"I still say it's sick. And it's also sacrilegious."
"Well, so is he."
Luke was pleased to hear her giggle.
"It's terrible, but the more I think about it, the better I like it."
"I knew you would once you stopped being so scared. Now hurry and get undressed."
She giggled again. "You've been waiting years for this, haven't you?"
He laughed. "You don't know how many times I froze my ass in a cold shower over you, woman."
She peeled out of her dress. "Well, you're more mature now. I think I can trust you." She yielded to impulse, "Besides, I understand you've got somebody else to blame for cold showers now."
Luke wasn't sure how to respond, then decided to hell with it. She already knew, and it was pretty bad if he couldn't trust her, of all people. "Yes, I guess I do."
"Well, I'm real happy for you, Luke, but please be careful."
"We have been, and we will be, and I don't believe she'd have said anything to you if I hadn't told her about you and Dewey. I was with her that night after it happened, and I was so bummed out I just had to unload."
"I know the feeling, and it's okay. I just don't want you to get hurt. She's a sweet girl, and I know her life has to be hell married to Rudy, but it's a one-way street. You know that. So don't get in too deep."
"Maybe I already am," he admitted.
"I was afraid of that." She had taken off her slip and bra and panties and was totally naked but too intent on what was about to take place to be embarrassed or self-conscious.
Luke rolled her clothes in a bundle and placed them next to the door while she put on the robe. "Okay. I'm going to get into position. The rest is up to you." He turned off the flashlight and hugged her. "I know you can do it—for Dewey and for yourself."
She hugged him back. "I want you to know how grateful I am you're doing this for me."
"I'm just sorry I didn't take care of it sooner. If I had..."
She pressed a finger to his lips. "Shush. I don't want to hear it. You're keeping me from being blackmailed into having to be that c
reep's whore for the rest of my life, and I'll never forget it."
He thought how he was not doing it solely for her, only she would never know that.
* * *
Burch opened the door slowly and instinctively reached for the light switch, but Sara was ready, as Luke had instructed, to stop him.
"I want it dark," she said, her hand covering his as she once more fought an impulse to gag. "I told you, honey child, this is gonna be a special night."
He laughed throatily and reached for her, then, feeling the billowy garment, paused to ask in wonder, "Hey, what is this?"
"A choir robe. I'm wearing it because it's white."
"Yeah," he scoffed. "Like you're a virgin."
"It's my first time with you, so that makes me a virgin for you."
"Yeah, I guess..." he groped for her breasts. "So you've made your point. Now turn on the lights."
She felt like spitting in his face but instead managed to coo, "Now I told you, Burchie, baby, it's got to be special, and you aren't going to see me till I say so."
"Okay, I'll play your stupid game, but get that thing off so I can feel you up good."
"And you get undressed. I want to feel you, too, sweet thing." She fought to keep from gagging.
"Yeah, I will. Hurry..."
He fumbled with his clothes, then grabbed her again, but, realizing he was still wearing his undershirt, she held him at bay. "Not till you've taken everything off."
He pulled the undershirt over his head, then roughly drew her into his arms and began covering her face with hot, wet kisses. Sara willed herself to let him, reminding herself over and over it was revenge for Dewey, and also to ensure her children would not be taken from her, that they would not have to grow up in a broken home. And when this was over, she was going to concentrate on being the best mother she could be. She was also going to get a real job, maybe in the new drapery plant rumored to be opening up next year. She would save every penny she could so when the children were grown she could strike out on her own and make a new life. She would not, by God, continue to live in a loveless marriage after they left home.
He had been there less than five minutes, and Sara wasn't sure she could take another second of it but knew she had come too far to turn back. She also knew how disappointed Luke would be if she failed. Emma Jean, too, because he had told her if not for Emma Jean, they couldn't have pulled it off, that she had used her talent to imitate Irene Cleghorn to make those women she had called think they were being invited to a surprise party for Ramona Hampton.
Final Justice Page 29
