by J B Hawker
“Don’t get upset. I wasn’t accusing you of being dishonest. I just wanted to know what you were thinking,” Peter said.
“I’m thinking it’s late and I’ve got an early day tomorrow. Thank you for asking my advice on this. Are you going to take it?”
“I’m definitely going to consider what you said. Thanks for the coffee,” Peter said, recognizing dismissal in her voice.
He tucked his unopened notebook under his arm and carried his empty coffee cup to the sink.
He hesitated beside Merrill on the way to the door, but when she didn’t meet his eyes, he simply said, “Well, good-night, then,” shrugged and left.
“Yeah, good night,” Merrill sighed as the door closed.
Shaking her head at the way the evening had ended, she turned the deadbolt, carried her cup to the sink, turned off the lights and climbed the stairs.
“I wonder if I’ll ever see Peter again?” she murmured to herself.
She regretted displaying her annoyance, but if he did decide to disrupt the lives of Peri and Ariadne, he wasn’t someone she cared to be with.
Rubbing skin cream into her freshly washed face, she looked into the mirror and saw an expression of dismay, as she remembered that Peter is a reporter.
What if he wrote a story about Peri? He wouldn’t, would he?
Her bedtime prayers were longer and more fervent than usual, before she was finally able to release her worries into the Lord’s hands.
*
Sunday morning Merrill awoke to a spring rainstorm drumming on her windows.
The gloomy skies matched her dreary mood, still lingering from the night before.
Events of the prior evening replayed in her head as she dressed for church. When she considered all the unusual and unpleasant experiences since she’d come to Bannoch, it started to seem like a pattern.
Maybe coming here was a mistake. Could this be God’s way of telling her she was outside His will? Had her pride, rather than God’s leading, brought her to a pulpit of her own?
Discouraging thoughts persisted throughout the morning, even while she reviewed her sermon notes.
When the phone on her desk rang, she was relieved to have a distraction.
“First Baptist Church, Pastor Merrill speaking,” she said.
“Pastor, this is Roger Sisco, Bethany’s husband. We haven’t met, but my wife’s a member of your church,” the caller said.
“Yes. I appreciate your wife’s eagerness to become a leader in our church family, Roger. I’ve been looking forward to getting to know you, too. Will you both be in church this morning?”
“No, that isn’t why I called. Uh, is Bethany there?”
“I’m in my office in the main church building and I’m the only one here. She might be next door in the Social Hall. It’s a bit early, but she may have come for Sunday school. Shall I go look?”
“Could you? And if she’s there, will you ask her to call me? She didn’t come home from the church picnic last night, and I’m sort of worried.”
“You mean she’s missing?” Merrill asked.
“Nah, but she was a bit upset with me for not going to the beach party and all. I thought she probably went home with a friend to get back at me, you know? But I’ve called all of her friends and no one’s seen her. She might have got a motel room last night, but I figure she’ll show up at church, sooner or later.”
“I’ll run right over, Roger. Give me your number, so I can call you back when I find Bethany.”
Merrill checked all the rooms in the annex without seeing Bethany.
Her car wasn’t in the parking lot, and no one had seen her that morning, either.
Merrill returned to her office and called Roger to report.
“Hello, Roger? I’m afraid your wife hasn’t made it to church, yet, but I’ve spread your message to everyone…oh, it was no trouble. I’m looking forward to meeting you one of these days…yes, I’m sure she will. Good-bye.”
Merrill kept an eye out for Bethany during the worship, but didn’t see her come in.
Merrill noticed Peter wasn’t in church, either.
She was almost relieved he hadn’t come, because he might have been tempted to tell Peri and Ariadne what he’d learned in Portland.
Her relief was quickly followed by a sinking feeling…what if he had already returned to Seattle to write up an expose?
Chapter 21
By Monday evening, Merrill still had not heard from Peter.
Ryan had a basketball game in Coos Bay and wasn’t home for dinner, leaving Merrill alone with her thoughts.
She picked up her phone and began to punch in Wolf’s number, then put it down with a shake of her head.
If Peter was in Seattle writing a story about the Bostwich family, there was nothing she could do about it, and if Wolf told her Peter wasn’t back at work, she would only wonder all the more why he hadn’t called her.
These quicksilver emotional currents were unusual for Merrill.
Growing up, marrying, even going to seminary and being widowed, had all passed almost serenely for her, all within a predictable range of feelings.
She’d known grief and loneliness after her husband’s passing, but Peter’s arrival on the scene brought her period of mourning to an end.
Thoughts of a different kind of future had insinuated themselves into her mind, leaving her feeling suddenly bereft at Peter’s absence.
Merrill snorted in annoyance at her own unruly thoughts and decided to go to bed early.
A good night’s sleep might clear the uncomfortable cobwebs from her mind.
She was deeply asleep when a noise downstairs woke her.
Thinking it was Ryan returning from the game, she pulled on her robe and went to the stairs, where she was met by wafts of smoke.
Something was on fire!
She trotted down the stairs through the thickening air and made her way to Ryan’s empty room.
She saw the glow of his clock radio and, realizing it was still too early for him to be home, she thanked God, grabbed her phone and ran out of the apartment.
Shivering in the cold parking lot after calling the fire department, Merrill could see smoke rising around the bell tower and the glow of flames through the sanctuary’s stained-glass windows.
When she heard the sirens, Merrill ran to the parking lot entrance and began waving to the firemen, pointing to the sanctuary.
“Help! The fire is inside the church,” she shouted.
The fire trucks pulled up next to the church and fire fighters quickly deployed their equipment and set to work.
When the crew approached the large front doors, preparing to batter their way inside, Merrill caught her breath.
“Wait! I have a key,” she whimpered, just as the firefighters crashed through the stately hand-carved doors.
Merrill sank to the curb with her head in her hands and began to pray.
She desperately wanted to plead for a miracle to save her precious sanctuary, but she forced herself to pray, instead, for the safety of the rescue workers and for God’s will to be done.
She was still praying when Peter walked up and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay? Where’s Ryan?” he asked.
“Peter! What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way back to my motel when I heard the sirens and saw the firetrucks go racing by. My reporter’s instinct kicked in and I followed them. I never thought they would end up here. Is everyone out of the building? Are you hurt?” he asked again.
“I’m fine…well, I’m okay, anyway. Ryan is still at an out-of-town basketball game. He should be home soon, though. Oh, what a terrible surprise for him! His parents were killed when their church was burned, and now this.”
“What time is the bus due back at the high school? I can go meet it and break the news before I bring him back here, if you think it might help,” Peter said.
“Would you? What time is it?” Merrill asked. “The bus is
due back at 12:30.”
“It’s almost that, now. I’ll go get him. Will you be okay until we get back? Do you want to come with me?” Peter asked.
It was a tempting offer, but Merrill needed to stay until the fire was out and she could assess the devastation. She couldn’t suppress a wild hope for the damage to be minor.
Peter pulled her to her feet for a reassuring hug, then left to get Ryan.
Before long, the firemen began emerging from the building and stowing their equipment.
Merrill walked over to the fire chief.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“My men say it’s not too bad. This arsonist didn’t really know what he was doing, apparently. It seemed like a pretty amateurish attempt,” he responded.
“You mean someone deliberately tried to burn down our church? But, why?”
“I can’t tell you that, but it was obviously arson. A gasoline-soaked pile of rags and old newspapers was dumped in the middle aisle of your sanctuary and set alight. The men were able to put it out pretty quickly. It’s a bit of a mess, I’m afraid. You’ll have water and smoke damage, of course, but a couple of pews, your carpet and the hardwood floor were what burned the most,” the chief said. “You’ll want to get your insurance people out here first thing. I’ll be filing my report with the Sheriff tomorrow.”
Merrill thanked the fire chief and approached the broken church doors.
“You’d better not go in there, ma’am. You’ll get your night clothes all dirty,” said a fireman who was leaving the building.
Looking down, Merrill remembered she was still in her nightgown and robe and blushed fiercely.
“Oh, uh, thank you. Is it okay for me to go into my apartment? The fire didn’t spread that far, did it?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. It was contained in the big room there. You might want to open your windows and turn on a fan, though.”
Merrill thanked the fireman and hurried to her apartment.
When she entered, the rooms were filled with smoke.
Before getting dressed, she opened all the windows, upstairs and down, and turned on the exhaust fans in the kitchen and bathrooms.
By the time Peter and Ryan showed up, she was dressed, and the rooms were mostly clear, although a smoky aroma lingered.
“Hi, Auntie Merri, looks like you had some excitement while I was gone.” Ryan began with an attempt at nonchalance, then continued. “What happened, anyway? Was there an electrical short? Is it okay for us to stay here?”
“It’s okay, dear. We aren’t in any danger here. It wasn’t bad wiring. The fire was deliberately set, I’m afraid,” Merrill said.
“What?” Peter exclaimed. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Who knows? Well, God knows, but I don’t. Let me get you guys something to drink. Are you hungry, Ryan?”
“No, we ate on the way home from the game. I’m pretty tired. If you are sure it’s okay, I think I’ll just go to bed.”
“Of course. Say, who won the game? I almost forgot to ask,” Merrill said.
“We did. I scored eight points,” Ryan said with a proud grin.
“Congratulations. Way to go, son,” Peter said, clapping Ryan on the shoulder.
“Thanks. Good-night.”
When Ryan’s door was closed Peter turned to Merrill.
“Tell me what you are thinking. I can almost see the wheels turning. You have some idea of who set the fire, don’t you?” he asked.
“Not really. It’s just that all of this seems to be aimed at me,” Merrill said.
“All of this? What do you mean?”
“The damage to the restrooms, the driver who tried to run me off the road, and now the fire. Someone doesn’t want a woman pastor in Bannoch.”
“Aren’t you being a bit paranoid, or egotistical or something? Do you think those two deaths are about you, too?”
“Of course, not! But these other incidents hit awfully close to home, and they only started when I tried to get the church to use the sanctuary, again.”
“So maybe, if you are correct, and I’m not conceding that you are, just maybe it is not about your being an ordained woman. Maybe it is about the sanctuary,” Peter suggested.
“Why would anyone object to worshiping in our church building? Sure, they might prefer the annex, or the lower utility bills, anyway, but no one would care enough to try to kill me or to burn down the church over it. I think this fire could have been a second attempt on my life.”
“Or, you could have been right about a drunken driver and random vandalism. This fire could have been another unrelated incident, just like the suicide and accidental death. It’s been an unfortunate cluster of challenges for you, but sometimes that is just the way life goes.”
The kettle on the stove whistled and Merrill busied herself fixing a pot of herbal tea.
When she placed the cups on the table, she gave Peter a piercing look, then turned to face him.
“Do you really believe what you suggested? Or were you trying to reassure me?”
Peter looked a bit sheepish and shrugged.
“It is just possible this is all coincidence, you know,” he said.
“Possible, but not likely,” Merrill said. “Sit down and tell me what you really think.”
They sat and Merrill filled their cups.
Peter picked up his cup and began to blow on his tea as he collected his thoughts.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you this the other day, but my main reason for going to Portland was to look into the connection between your two deaths. Those people working together was too much of a coincidence for me.”
“I thought you went to find Peri’s mother,” Merrill said, with a surprised expression “What else did you find out?”
“Tracking down that awful woman was part of it, but I’d planned to go to Portland before I learned anything about Peri.”
“So, what did you find?” Merrill repeated. “Was there a connection to this church?”
“I’m not sure, but I did discover what brought them both here to Bannoch.”
“Tell me.”
“I think you already knew the couple who died worked for the same real estate firm,” Peter said with a questioning glance.
“Yes, go on.”
“But we didn’t know, and what I found out, is they each came to Bannoch to meet with a client here who had property to sell,” Peter explained. “The same client.”
“Why would anyone go all the way to Portland to find a realtor? Bannoch and Tillamook have plenty of real estate offices. Who was the client?”
“That’s where it gets interesting. The woman’s notation on her calendar simply said ‘see Bannoch prop for Milestone Dev.’ However, the appointment book of the fellow who ended up in your baptistery listed the seller as a Mildred Pierce. I think that was a false name, though. There’s no property owner in Bannoch named Mildred Pierce.”
“But it really was a woman, you think? Maybe a woman who likes old Joan Crawford movies?” Merrill asked.
“Maybe. No one knows if anyone actually spoke to this person. The appointments could have been arranged via email or through a third party.”
“So, you think the victims were lured here? That’s being sort of melodramatic, isn’t it? Why would anyone want to kill two Portland real estate agents? It doesn’t make sense, unless you think there’s a deranged serial killer running around our quiet community.”
“I’ll admit I don’t have all the answers. Not yet, anyway, but there’s a story here and I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” Peter said.
Merrill set down her empty teacup thoughtfully.
“Did you know about the deaths before you came to Bannoch? Did my brother tell you?”
“He might have mentioned it, I suppose,” Peter hedged.
So, that was why Peter had shown an interest in her. She should have known. He was only trying to get a story.
Merrill felt sick with disappointment.
> “What’s the matter with Wolf telling me about the deaths? It wasn’t some sort of secret was it? Why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset. I’m just exhausted all the sudden. I guess all the excitement from the fire has suddenly hit me. I think I’d better turn in. I’ve got the insurance people to deal with tomorrow, and, hopefully, repairmen who can make the sanctuary usable again,” Merrill said, standing up.
“I’ll say good-night, then. But, Merrill, don’t worry. I really don’t think any of this is directed at you. Whatever is going on, you couldn’t be the cause of it,” Peter said, reaching to pull her to him.
Merrill side-stepped around him and opened the door.
“Thanks for picking Ryan up and for all your help. It’s been a rough night,” she said.
Peter leaned in and kissed her cheek and went out.
Merrill shut and locked the door, then stood leaning against it, trying not to cry.
Chapter 22
The next morning, when Merrill returned to her apartment after walking through the damaged sanctuary with the insurance adjuster, the church phone was ringing.
Merrill was happy the deacons had finally arranged to have the church number ring in the apartment, especially today, when her office was still full of smoke.
“Hello?”
“Isn’t it awful?” Judy Falls cried.
“Yes, it was pretty frightening, but I’m praising God and thanking Him it wasn’t any worse,” Merrill replied.
“What could be worse than dead?” Judy asked.
“No one was hurt in the fire, Judy,” Merrill reassured her friend.
“What fire? Has there been a fire, too?”
“Too? What are you calling about?” Merrill asked.
“I’m calling about the woman who was found on the beach, of course. What fire are you talking about?”
“An arsonist tried to burn our church down last night,” Merrill replied.