Turning off the monitor, I pushed away from my desk. It was almost midnight, and tomorrow morning I would regret—
I jumped when my phone rang. Who would be calling me this late?
Houston.
“Hey, Houston! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Are you okay?”
“No. Callie, I—”
I clutched the phone tighter at the tone of his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going crazy, Callie.” His voice broke, and I could hear him take a deep breath and blow it out.
“I’ve got to talk to someone. Can you meet me somewhere?”
“Of course.” My mind raced. Should I call Todd?
“I could drop by, but…”
“No, no. No worries. Why don’t you meet me at my shop?” I never went to the shop this late, but I knew we were both trying to avoid the appearance of anything that could be misconstrued as immoral. “I’ll head over there in about ten minutes if that’s all right?”
“Sure. Just—don’t tell Todd right now, okay?”
I felt a little weird about agreeing to his request, but this was Houston, after all. My friend. A pastor. Not a murderer.
At least I hoped not.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My shop looked different at night than it did in the sunlight. The corners were deeper, the shadows longer. And it didn’t help that the front window was still boarded up from when Brandon threw the rock.
I had the electric tea kettle going by the time Houston shuffled through the door fifteen minutes later. I started when I saw him. He had aged ten years in the past day. His eyes were swollen, his skin ashen.
Dear God. Please give me wisdom. Whatever it is that Houston needs to talk about—
“You don’t look very good.” I handed him the Colorado mug. “Have you gotten any sleep?”
He reached out a trembling hand to take the tea, then slumped onto one of the stools, shaking his head.
“Let’s sit in the book nook.” I led the way, curling up in the wingback chair next to the C.S. Lewis display. “It’s comfier over here.”
He perched on the edge of the worn leather loveseat, staring at the floor.
I waited. I heard the train jolting by, its lonesome whistle loud in the silent room.
Houston lifted his eyes to mine, then lowered them again. “I read that poem, Callie.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I couldn’t remember what I had done with it since things were so—crazy that day.” I watched a bead of sweat trickle down his face.
He mopped his forehead with a tissue. “I found it in the hawthorn bush by the side door. I read it.”
Was he sick? Or just nervous? I waited, quite sure he had come to discuss more than this.
“No matter what that poem says, I don’t believe Jesus could understand what I’ve done.” He fixed his eyes on a point above my head.
“Oh, Houston…”
He shook his head, then dropped his gaze to his feet again. “I don’t know where to start,” he whispered.
“I’m not in a hurry,” I said softly. What could he have done that was so terrible? Was Nicole’s baby his after all? Is that what he had to get off his chest?
“I’m not fit to be a preacher anymore.” The hoarse whisper carried with it the pain of a thousand regrets.
I waited. Holy Spirit, comfort Houston’s heart. Only You can set him free. Only You can deliver him—
He lifted his haunted gaze to mine. “I killed him, Callie.”
Sweat prickled in my armpits. I stared at him.
“He came to my office, and I—”
“That’s all I needed to hear, Preacher-man.” The soft voice from somewhere behind my chair was pure evil.
I froze at the look on Houston’s face. Who was behind me?
“I’m havin’ some good luck tonight, gettin’ you both at once. Kinda like a two fer one at the fair.”
The man’s laugh sent chills down my spine.
I had to see who it was, if it was the last thing I did. I knew it wasn’t Earl. Or Vic. I turned my head ever so slightly, stunned when my cheek touched cold metal.
“Hold it right there, babe,” the voice said. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, okay?”
I glanced at Houston. His eyes were glazed, his face flushed.
Dear God. I’m sitting here with a gun to my head and Houston is keeling over.
“I think something is wrong with him,” I said loudly, not moving my head. “Will you let me—”
“Shut up! There ain’t nothing wrong with him. He’s just a stinkin’ coward.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, then opened them in time to see Houston do a face-plant onto the floor. He lay there, unmoving.
I jumped up, only to be shoved back down. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere, sister.”
“But—”
“Shut up, I said!” He tied a stiff bandana around my eyes. “I’m not takin’ any chances,” he muttered. “You sit there now while I get him, ya hear?”
I nodded. Why hadn’t I brought Annie with me tonight?
God, please send someone to help us.
Maybe someone would drive by and see the light. My heart sank as I remembered the boarded-up front window. The only way someone would see the light is if they were on the side of the…
Wait. Had Houston actually said that he murdered someone? Who? The only body I knew of was the one I found under the crepe myrtle tree—the one that Houston had said was alive—the one who Houston had said he visited in the hospital—the bile rose to my throat.
Oh, Houston. My heart broke for my friend. Why, Houston?
It had to be Nicole.
Houston had seen the man following Nicole around and thought he was going to harm her—
I sucked in my breath. Aunt Dot’s advice column. Haunted in Houston. Haunted wasn’t in Houston. Haunted was Houston who had written in, confessing that he had done something that hurt others. He had put the clipping of it in my purse that day when we sang about Heaven with Aunt Dot and Harry in Aunt Dot’s room at Willowbough. He must have been hoping that I would read it. That I would understand. That I would forgive him.
My hot tears soaked the bandana. My dear friend. How could you?
And how could you carry the burden so long by yourself? Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you beg God to stop you before you gave way to hatred and violence?
I clutched the armrests of the chair. God, please help us.
What was the man doing to Houston? I bit my lip to still its trembling, listening. Judging from the grunts and shuffling sounds, I guessed he was tying Houston up. At least that’s what I hoped he was doing instead of something worse.
The soggy bandana started to slip. I pushed it back into place. Did I dare lift it the teensiest bit so I could—
“Don’t even think about it.”
The man’s breath was hot on my ear. I jumped away, screaming and clawing at my blindfold.
He clapped his hand over my mouth, yanking me back against his chest. He reeked of cheap dollar-store aftershave.
“Your life is over if you see me, babe,” he whispered. “So why don’t you sit there all nice until I’m gone.”
I stilled, then tried to nod. Not easy to nod when one is in a headlock. I clenched my teeth. It wouldn’t help Houston at all for me to make a fuss. I’d have a better chance of helping my friend if I cooperated, right? And I still had my phone. Maybe I could manage to call 911 when he wasn’t looking.
“Don’t move. And don’t make a sound or you’ll regret it.” He released the pressure on my mouth slowly, as if making sure I wasn’t going to try to pull a fast one.
“Okay.” I folded my hands together in my lap so he wouldn’t see them shaking, and strained to see out of the gap at the bottom of the bandana.
Black dress shoes. Shiny.
I let out my breath when I sensed him move away from me. My lips were hot and swollen from his fierce grip on my mouth, and I needed to go to t
he bathroom. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I froze. Thank God it was on silent.
I strained to hear any sound from across the small room. Was Houston still alive? He had almost looked like he was having a seizure or something. I’d seen one of my students experience something like that before. Her eyes had kind of gone out of focus for a minute or two, then she had collapsed on my office floor. I racked my brain. What was it called? I couldn’t remember.
I heard a scrape and a grunt. Was he dragging Houston?
Dear God. Please have mercy. Send your angels to help us. Show me what I can do to—
I sensed the heat of the man’s body near my face again and shrank back into the chair.
How could he move so quietly? And what was he going to do to me?
I listened to his breath coming in short gasps.
Houston groaned.
I heard the click of a gun barrel.
The man swore under his breath. “I should shoot ya both and be done with it.”
I willed the nerves in my legs to stay still.
Houston groaned again.
Cold metal pressed on my neck, right under my chin. “I’m going to be watching you, missy. If you tell that cop boyfriend of yours anything, you’ll regret it, ya hear?”
I didn’t dare nod.
“I said, ‘Did ya hear me?’”
I gulped. “Yes.”
Maybe if I sat very still and pretended to be compliant, I might have a chance to save Houston somehow. If the crazy dude didn’t blow my head off first, that is. Jesus, I trust You. Jesus, I trust You.
“Good. Now you jest relax.” He pulled the gun away from my throat, and ran a finger lightly down my cheek. His voice gentled into a sensuous tone. “I’m gonna take your friend here for a little while. He and I have some business to take care of.”
I shivered.
“You are going to keep your mouth shut, right, babe?” He kissed my neck. “So I don’t have to kill you?”
God, help me! Everything in me rebelled against the evil—the blackness of this man. It took all my willpower not to yank the bandana off. The only thing that held me back was Houston.
If the guy killed me, no one would ever know what had happened to Houston. I had to fight by surrendering. At least for the moment. Once the hideous man took his hands off my shoulders, I would—he started rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms.
Oh, God, no. Please no.
I would rather him shoot me than to—
I had to calm down. Figure out how to get away. Was he still holding the gun?
I squinted through the tiny spaces by my nose where the bandana had slipped a little bit. I could make out the black shoes again…a glimpse of his freckled arm. I gritted my teeth as he slid his hand under my hair at the back of my neck.
Where was the gun?
If only I knew for sure he didn’t have it within reach, I could—
Houston coughed, a low, chesty cough.
The man jerked away from me, and I sank back in the chair, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.
Breathe, Callie.
In and out. In and out.
I crossed my arms over my chest, holding myself tight against the tide of vileness, then suddenly breathing in the strong presence of the Holy Spirit.
“Jesus?” I whispered.
I am here, Beloved.
I rested my head against His chest for a moment until I could breathe again. Like I had the day Kevin had died. The moment Jason’s prison sentence had been announced. The hour of Marleigh’s funeral.
All will be well, Child.
I imagined angels surrounding me—surrounding Houston. More angels. Warrior angels. Some covering Houston with their great wings, some wielding fiery swords on his behalf.
And then I wasn’t imagining anymore. I saw them. I heard the rustle of their wings. I smelled the scent of—Heaven.
Someone was praying for us. For Houston and me. The prayers were swirling around us through the air, like luminescent streaks of gold and green. The angels formed a circle around Houston, their huge forms glowing brighter with each prayer that hit its mark.
If only I could see what the man was doing. It sounded like he was dragging Houston—or Houston’s body—across the floor. Had the angels taken Houston to Heaven?
Dear God.
I heard the front door squeak open, and a series of grunts.
The scent of Heaven disappeared.
I was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Todd! Oh, please answer!” I held the phone to my ear while I dead-bolted the front door of the shop. I would spend the night here before I’d try to go home alone.
“Callie. Are you okay?”
Oh, thank God. My hands were trembling so violently I dropped the phone.
“Callie!” Todd’s voice was panicked. “Can you hear me? What’s going on?”
“I dropped my phone. Oh, God, please help me! Someone came to my shop and he took Houston and I thought that—”
“What? Where are you now? Are you alone?”
“No. I mean, yes. At the shop. I’m alone.”
Was I alone?
I glanced around, wishing now that I’d listened to Todd and had at least bought some mace. “He took Houston. And Houston was sick or something and I—”
“Okay. I want you to stay on the phone with me, sweetheart. I’m coming there right now.”
I heard his truck door slam.
“Don’t hang up. I want you to stay on the phone, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m so scared. I thought he was going to…to…” Horror washed over me anew.
“Hang with me, sweetheart. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
My teeth were chattering again.
“Callie?” Todd’s voice penetrated the fog that threatened to overtake me.
“Uh-huh.” If I stopped moving, I would collapse right there on the floor. I paced from the door to the counter and back, glancing out the side window on each round to see if I could spot Todd’s headlights.
“I’m almost there. I’m coming down Main Street. Do you know who the guy was?”
“Uh-uh.” Hurry, Todd. Please.
“I’m pulling up in front of your store right now. Unlock the door for me, okay?”
I flipped the deadbolt and fell into his arms, weeping.
“Shh. You’re safe now.”
He held me tight to his body, and I clung to him for long moments. His uniform was soaked and scratchy against my cheek.
“I was so scared.”
He loosened his hold a little, then smoothed my hair back from where it was sticking to my face. “It’s going to be all right, sweetheart.”
“But Houston—”
“I’m putting in a call to my buddies at the Temple PD right now. Hang tight.” He pulled away enough to dial his phone, but left his arm around my shoulder.”
I leaned against him and took some deep breaths while he talked.
He stuck his phone in his pocket. “They’re on it. In fact, a couple of officers are on their way over here, too. You’ll have to tell them what happened.” He made a face. “Hopefully Earl’s not listening to the scanner, or he’ll be over here, too.”
Thank God he had called the Temple police and not Earl. I didn’t think I could deal with him tonight. “At least my prayer was answered.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“My angel prayer.”
His eyes widened. “Let’s get you inside.” He edged me back into the store, and kicked the door shut behind us.
I stood staring at him, exhaustion crashing over me.
“Come sit by me.” He tugged me over to the loveseat in the book nook and pulled me down next to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Now. Tell me everything that happened.”
“I came over here to meet Houston because he really wanted to talk, he said.” I glanced at Todd. “He told me not to tell you we were going to meet.”
Tod
d frowned.
“He seemed like he was sick. I’d never seen him look so terrible.”
“What kind of sick? Like the flu?”
“No. More like—I don’t know. He was sweating like crazy and his skin was kind of grey. He seemed like he was about ready to pass out.”
“Probably the anxiety from what happened with Brandon yesterday. He was the last one to talk to Brandon before he died.”
“True.” I had to tell him this before the police got here. “You’re not going to believe this. I still can’t believe it.”
“What?”
“Houston told me tonight that he killed the guy who I found under my bush.”
Todd gaped at me. “He just came out and told you that?”
“He looked at me and said, ‘I killed him.’”
“Wow.” Todd stood up to pace. “That’s a game changer.”
I took my glasses off and rubbed my eyes. “Why would he do that? Surely it was an accident.”
“Are you sure he meant that he killed the guy who was under your bush? The guy who was tased and then drugged?”
I put my glasses back on and stared up at him. “You think he meant he killed someone else?” I couldn’t wrap my brain around that idea.
Todd shrugged. “I’m trying to come up with all possible scenarios.”
“So…?”
“Maybe if we can figure out who this clown was tonight, that will give us some clues as to what Houston is mixed up in.” Todd strode around the room, examining everything but not touching anything. “The guy must have already been in here before you came.”
I hadn’t thought of that yet.
My startled gaze met Todd’s. Was he thinking the same thing I was thinking?
His grim expression told me he was.
I didn’t want to believe it.
“Surely Houston didn’t set me up.” I rubbed my temple.
“I’m sorry. But we have to consider all—”
“But what would the guy want with me? He said something like it was good for him that he had us both at once. And he took Houston, not me.”
“He said that? You didn’t tell me that.”
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