His son, Carl, sat on the platform with him. Again she noticed he took his looks from neither his dad nor his mother. Maybe they’d adopted him. They didn’t have other kids, as far as she could tell, and they actually didn’t look old enough to have a son that age.
The music tonight was contemporary, no hymns, contrasting with Sunday’s more sedate tone. Tonight’s service had more the feel of a revival, only not the old tent style where they dunked you in the river. This was more youthful, and she realized that many of the seats were filled with teens and young adults.
Actually, the seats weren’t filled, because the worshipers were on their feet for the first twenty minutes. Karen was at the piano, but there was also someone on electric guitar and a drummer. People were clapping and dancing in their places. Alessi couldn’t help but smile. They seemed to have a real joy in the singing, but she guessed it was also the thrill of being part of such a believing group.
The pastor said, “Carl,” and his son took the podium. A hush fell over the crowd, though it had a different feel than the hush Burton Welsh inspired. This one seemed cautious and tense, like a parent at a child’s musical recital. Would he play it well, as he did at home, or make a mistake with so many faces watching?
Carl opened his Bible and read, “‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.’”
His voice was nothing like the pastor’s as he read on, but his mannerisms and delivery were similar enough that she wondered if he might be their biological son after all.
“‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.’”
Some girls in the front row whispered something and covered their giggles with their hands, but their eyes never left him. Alessi wondered if they thought they were seeing God. Carl did have strong Nordic good looks. Not the magnetic attraction of the pastor but a strapping farm-boy build and carriage. His large hands and broad shoulders looked anything but meek, and he wasn’t through growing yet.
“‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.’” He looked up and startled Alessi with a direct glance. His blue eyes were cold, though his face warmed. “‘Blessed are they who are persecuted because of righteousness.’”
She felt something sink inside and squeeze. How could Jesus’ own words be haunting? She was in a predicament but hardly persecuted. Not like people losing their lives and loved ones.
“‘For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’” Not even the attached promise chased away the chill that crawled up her spine. But it passed as Pastor Welsh thanked Carl and took his place front and center. Carl sent a sideways smile to the front-row girls and sat down with his mother.
“Whom does the Lord bless?” Pastor’s voice carried powerfully after Carl’s adolescent pitch. “The rich and powerful? The proud? Those who live the ‘good life’?” He looked over their faces. “Whom does the Lord bless?”
He raised a finger and pointed to them individually, then collectively. “You—the poor in spirit, the meek, who hunger for righteousness. You merciful, you clean of heart. You—the children of God. Ours is the kingdom of heaven, for we have closed the gates of hell, locked them fast, and thrown away the key.”
His glance brushed her but didn’t stay. “We, the redeemed, are the living embodiment of these beatitudes. Who is proud among us, let him confess it now. Who mourns without comfort? Hungers and thirsts and is not satisfied? Who has not seen the mercy of our God? Call out if you are peacemakers!”
The assembly roared.
Certainly a different treatment than she’d heard before. Instead of a call to holiness, it seemed a confirmation of a given state. She looked at Steve, sitting with Stacie and a small walnut-skinned man who must be her husband. Sheriff Roehr was next to them and looked away from her glance. He resettled in his seat as though his hip pained him, but she guessed it was probably her.
“We who mourned have been comforted.” The pastor walked a few steps to the side and said, “We who were persecuted for the sake of righteousness have inherited the kingdom.”
There it was again, those words taking extra meaning. It was almost as though he referred to something specific, but whatever it was, she didn’t know. Maybe the things Steve alluded to that she didn’t understand. She wasn’t part of Charity, only marooned there. She sighed. Being with Ben and Dave and even Steve had given her some sense of belonging. But the whole of Charity at once … Her throat tightened. It was worse than the cliques at Palm Beach Gardens High School.
“We were shown mercy and are now the merciful. Praise God!” The roaring echo filled the rafters. “Praise God!” he hollered again and again as they echoed louder and stronger. The body around her gained energy, but Alessi felt leached by the time the pastor stopped speaking and the music began again. While it continued, people went forward for prayer, and Pastor Welsh sure did groan in his spirit over some of them. No question how deeply he cared. She felt emptier still.
Once the final song ended, she made her way to Sheriff Roehr. He did not look happy to see her. And she was sorry to spoil his evening, but something had to be done. “It’s been a week now, and I wondered if we should get help from someone to find my car. Does Chambers City have a police department?”
“They do, and I’ve consulted them. They haven’t seen your car, and it’s not their jurisdiction.”
Steve came up beside her. “Do you have anything at all?”
The sheriff scowled. “Well, it wasn’t listed stolen before I did it myself.”
Alessi pulled herself up. “Why would it be?”
He cocked his head and the tuft of hair lifted and dropped. “You’ve provided no form of I.D. and no registration. I don’t know you from Adam, except for some obvious differences. It was just as likely you’d taken the car as anyone else.”
She could not believe he had thought she stole the Mustang. No wonder he wasn’t trying too hard. “Now that you know I didn’t steal my own car, what are you going to do?”
He took a cigar from his pocket, then seemed to realize he was still in church and replaced it. “It might be your car, but that doesn’t mean you’re telling the whole story. I think you should come clean with the rest of it.”
“What rest?” She fought a rising indignation.
“Maybe you were with someone. Maybe that someone went off and left you.”
Was that the story going around? That she’d been ditched? She swallowed hard and gained her composure. “There was no one with me, and I’ve never found a place so ready to condemn the innocent and excuse the guilty. If Charity is God’s kingdom on earth, it’s got some flaws, in my opinion.”
Steve pressed his hand to her lower back, and in a minute he’d suggest she shut up and leave. So she stalked up to the platform while people were still milling around, laughing and visiting, the younger ones making eyes at each other in clusters. She stepped behind the podium and cleared her throat.
Several people turned her way, and she said, “Excuse me. You may not all know me yet. I’m Alessi Moore and I came to Charity a week ago. I know it’s hard to believe, but somehow in this fine place my car was stolen. So far nothing much has been done about it. I’d like to ask you all to look for a red convertible Mustang and give Sheriff Roehr any help you can. And just in case you’re the one who has it, I’d sure appreciate it back.” She started to step down, then added, “Actually, the sooner I get it back, the sooner I’ll be out of here. I guess that’ll be better all around.”
All the faces stared at her, but Carl’s had a look of pure spite. Okay, so she’d ruined his daddy’s show. She got down and walked for the door as fast as she could go. No one moved to stop her.
The night was cold and clear, and her breath made a cloud as she stalked out. But she was glad no one offered a ride. It was only a few blocks back to the store, and not long
enough to dispel the furious tension that reached the farthest points of her chilled fingers and toes. But better she stomp it out alone than inflict it on anyone else.
It was one thing to know she didn’t belong, another altogether to have people thinking that someone would have been so sick of her that … She clenched her hands and strode fiercely. It didn’t matter what they thought. She just wanted to get her car and leave. God’s halo must have meant somewhere down the road. The good was out there; she just couldn’t get to it. Frustration threatened to strangle her. Wasn’t she doing her part?
Or maybe …
She stopped and clasped her hands at her chin. Maybe it was a test. A trial. She breathed tightly, suddenly pensive and expectant. Maybe a miracle took more than just seeing. If keeping her heart open helped her see the magic, maybe something this big called for more. But what?
Steve looked from Cooper, whose face had gone crimson, to Carl, standing like a wax figure. Was it shock? Confusion? Or malice in his face? Alessi’s likeness to his mother must churn inside, and at the moment Carl looked more like Duke than ever. He had a personal stake in the pact that no one else could match and had, by far, the most to lose if people started doubting. Surely he would want the car found and Alessi out of there.
Burton Welsh stood to the side, staring at the doors she had disappeared through. He had said she deserved compassion and assistance, and Steve saw that in his expression, but there was also a calculating tension that made Steve glad he hadn’t heard her opinion of Charity’s kingdom of heaven.
Voices broke into a buzz, and he could guess the comments. She had made her point in spite of his urging caution, and Cooper wasn’t the only one on the hot seat now. The pastor’s face came alive and his voice, though not his words, carried through the room as he did damage control for the fledglings of feeble wing. But Steve couldn’t help wondering, if the pact crumbled and the premise proved false, what was left but guilt? And what strides would people take to avoid it?
He caught Ben’s eye and shared a shrug, then turned to Cooper, who was searching for something meaningful to say. Steve saved him the trouble. “It would be a good thing to find her car.”
“You think I’m not trying?”
“I don’t know, Coop. But I have a bad feeling.”
Cooper Roehr took out his cigar and stuffed it unlit between his teeth. “I’ve had a bad feeling ever since she got here.”
Twenty-Two
THE NEXT MORNING, STEVE PULLED into the parking space behind the store, pensive and tense from a night of subconscious activity not conducive to rest. Alessi hadn’t come to the house for breakfast. If she was out somewhere, fine—but he hoped she wasn’t stirring the pot she’d set to boiling last night—if she was sleeping, he could be quiet. He climbed out of the truck and stopped. The item hanging from the back doorknob did not belong there.
He glanced both ways—the alley was empty. The others usually moseyed into their businesses around ten, and it was only half past eight. He’d expected to slip in and work without notice, but he did not know what to make of this particular surprise.
He took it from the knob and unlocked the door. Alessi was neither gone nor asleep but up and dressed and brushing her teeth. She froze. “Where did…?” She turned and spit, swiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and said, “Where did you get that?”
He held it up. “Is it yours?”
She snatched it out of his hand and put it behind her back. “I asked first.”
“Hanging on the door.”
Her gaze jerked to the back door, and she stalked over and pulled it open.
Curiosity and amusement warred inside as he tried very hard not to imagine the article in use. “There’s no one out there.”
She spun, brandishing her toothbrush but still concealing the other item. “It was in my car.”
He sobered. “Are you sure?”
Glaring, she stuffed the mint green bra into her waistband and thrust past him to wash out her toothbrush at the sink. “Sheriff Roehr can’t ignore this.”
Steve winced. “He won’t be up yet.”
“Well, he deserves a wake-up in more ways than one.”
When had she gotten so feisty? “Alessi, you’re not really going to go dangle that under his nose.”
She flushed. “Well, it wouldn’t be my first choice, but it’s tangible proof—”
“It’s a bra.”
Her flush deepened.
“Even if it had your name all over it, you can’t prove it was in your car. Cooper won’t take your word for it.”
“Then you tell him. You found it.”
Steve considered that. “But I don’t know how it got there.”
“How do you think?” She paced across the room. “He put it there.”
“Or you did.”
She spun. “What?”
He shrugged. “I’m pointing out the possibilities.”
“You think I hung my …”
The way she was guarding it from sight, he couldn’t say he did. “No, but Cooper might. He’ll think you’re beefing up your story.”
Her jaw dropped. “What does it take around here to get proven innocent?”
Steve sighed. “He doesn’t have much to go on, Alessi. You’re the only one who’s seen the car since it disappeared, and it’s just your word that bra is even yours.”
She stood speechless, then rendered him the same with, “What do I have to do, try it on?”
He shot his gaze to the ceiling and did violence to his thoughts. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just suggesting you save yourself the embarrassment.”
She flounced down on the cot. “No one wants to believe me.” She spread her hands. “I don’t understand it.”
And he couldn’t enlighten her. He held his fist to his mouth, then said, “The good thing is you have something back.”
She pulled the silky bra from her waistband and tucked it under the pillow.
He rested his hands on his hips. “I guess I’ll go to work. Were you heading for the house?”
“I’m not hungry.” She stood up and put on the jacket he’d lent her.
“Where are you going?”
“To find my car.”
He knew better than to argue. He dug his keys from his pocket and held them out.
She looked from them to his face, then took the keys. “Thank you.” She stopped at the door. “I’ll be back by opening.”
He nodded. “Be careful.”
With the computer booting up, Steve stared at the screen and wondered. Was it just a joke? Someone milking a prank with little fear of consequence? Hanging her bra out there smacked of locker-room humor. Maybe they’d have their fun and then give it all back. He jolted. He was sounding like Alessi.
In Steve’s truck, she did cover ground. The hilly forest around the village spread out in places, and several homes dotted those acres. She stopped at each one. Many people weren’t home, but the ones she talked to were almost hostile.
“You’ve got the wrong idea, young woman.”
“Don’t project your problems on us.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve walking up to my door to accuse me of stealing.”
Alessi blew on her cold fingers. “I’m not accusing anyone. Just trying to find my car.”
But the door slammed in her face anyway. She had put them out of joint with her speech last night. She did not have Pastor Welsh’s way with words. But then, he told them what they wanted to hear. They were special, they were good, God’s redeemed. She must seem like the devil tempting Jesus in the desert, trying to shake him from what he believed.
Mom had told that story so well. “There He is, so hungry the lizards are looking like steak dinner, and up comes the devil in a chef’s hat, one rock in each hand, and says, ‘What’ll it be? Hot crusty rolls or cinnamon raisin bread?”’
Alessi smiled. She’d always thought at that moment she would have crumbled. Make sure it’s buttered. But Jesus sto
od firm. He told that devil where to go, as these folks were telling her now. She could see why they’d be upset. She didn’t like to be accused or even doubted. They’d feel the same way. It was understandable.
Though she did see one vehicle covered in a tarp, the shape of it could not be her little Mustang. Steve’s truck roared back to life, and she drove through woods as dense as hopefuls in a ticket line. There were some tracks through it, but she didn’t want to risk Steve’s truck leaving the road. Not until she’d exhausted her other possibilities.
She had hoped that making her announcement might scare the culprit into returning her car. Instead, he’d hung her bra on the door. Then it hit her. He’d been right outside the place she slept. And she hadn’t heard a thing. She sighed. What more could she do?
As she pondered that thought, it came to her that maybe searching for the car should not be her primary focus. Maybe there was another task, something hidden, like in the story Niccola’s Grapes. His kindness to the old woman had cost the family what money they would have earned for their grapes, but the old woman was really a fairy. He hadn’t known there was magic ahead, but he had seen someone in need and shown kindness.
Maybe someone in Charity needed kindness. Maybe she had to look for that instead. It sure hadn’t helped to stomp her foot and demand her car back. Alessi brought the truck around and headed for the store. She wasn’t sure how to accomplish her quest, but things mostly happened when a person wasn’t looking. If she simply did her job, her part in the miracle might become clear.
A deep peace settled inside. She’d been selfish to focus so completely on her car. If God wanted to hide it for a while, He could do it right under her nose, and no amount of browbeating her neighbors would make it appear. She’d just forget it. A pang squeezed her stomach. Okay, so she couldn’t actually forget, but she wouldn’t focus on finding it.
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