A Test of Faith

by Carol Cox

  On the far side of the aisle, she spotted Renee Lambert, resplendent in a pink designer suit, her hair and nails freshly done. Beside her, an oversized Gucci tote in a matching shade of pink rested on the pew. While Kate watched, the bag appeared to move slightly of its own accord, and Renee reached down to pat it with one hand.

  Kate tried hard not to smile, knowing Renee’s pet Chihuahua, Kisses, was undoubtedly inside the cavernous bag. He accompanied Renee everywhere she went.

  His presence during their worship services had taken Kate off guard at first, but the little dog tended to be well behaved. As long as he maintained his usual good manners and didn’t decide to accompany the singing or yip during the sermon, she could handle it.

  Directly behind Renee, Eli Weston leaned forward with his gaze focused directly at the pulpit, as if determined not to miss a single word of Paul’s sermon.

  Kate studied these three people she had grown to know and love during their time in Copper Mill. People whose actions and attitudes alternately filled her with affection and exasperation.

  What was going through their minds right now? After all the years she and Paul had been in ministry together, she thought she had become used to living in the proverbial goldfish bowl that was an inevitable part of being a pastor’s wife.

  But here in this smaller setting, it sometimes seemed like the focus had narrowed and magnified, putting them under even more intense scrutiny than they’d been under back in San Antonio.

  And what if those observing saw the picture a little out of focus? It only took a slight change of opinion to form a crack in the foundation of trust that could widen into a major rift. Cold fingers of apprehension threaded their way up her spine.

  Get ahold of yourself! God has not given you a spirit of fear. Things couldn’t be as bad as she thought they were. Surely she was overreacting, imagining a cloud of suspicion and doubt where there was none.

  A rustling in the sanctuary caught her attention, and Kate realized that people were bowing their heads for the closing prayer. While Paul’s confident voice gave thanks for God’s faithfulness to his people, Kate breathed a heartfelt prayer of her own: Help me to be faithful, to follow wherever you lead me. And help me to let your people know we love them and are here to serve them.

  After the service, some people stood chatting in small groups, while others, led by LuAnne Matthews, hurried downstairs to the kitchen to finish last-minute preparations for the meal.

  Kate looked around, aching for someone to talk to. Eli Weston stopped in the aisle next to her and held out his hand.

  “Morning, Kate. How’s it going?”

  Kate clasped his hand, grateful beyond words to Eli for not mentioning anything about Mustangs, wallets, or demolished diners.

  Her lips curved in a rueful smile. “Let’s just say it’s been an interesting few days.”

  Eli laughed. “So I’ve heard. Hang in there. This, too, shall pass.” He gave her a warm, encouraging smile before moving on.

  Kate scanned the crowd. A cluster of people near the organ were talking in low voices with their heads close together. They looked up as her gaze swept over them. She offered a determined smile and received the same in return. But were those smiles a little chillier than usual?

  Lifting her chin, she strode down the center aisle to join Paul near the doors that opened into the foyer. She nodded to the chatting groups as she passed.

  This is just like any other Sunday, she reminded herself. But the distance from the front pews to the back of the sanctuary had never seemed so long.

  “What was the pastor thinking?” The tart comment came from Millie Lovelace, the church secretary, who averted her eyes when Kate walked past.

  Kate’s steps faltered, then she kept on moving, deciding to pretend she hadn’t heard. What now?

  She reached Paul at last as he stood talking to Renee Lambert and Joshua “Old Man” Parsons. She was more than ready for him to bestow a welcoming smile on her. Instead, she saw a frown creasing his forehead. None of the three seemed aware of her presence.

  Kate’s stomach clenched. There would be no danger of overeating at the potluck that afternoon. At this rate, she would be lucky if she could keep even a few bites down.

  Old Man Parsons leaned forward, putting his lined face only inches from Paul’s. “It was a bad idea, Pastor. You should have checked with some of us first.”

  Kate stiffened and felt the knot in her stomach grow. Mr. Parsons was one of Faith Briar’s longtime members, and in spite of his advanced age of ninety-three, the man was still sharp in mind and tongue.

  What on earth was going on?

  Paul’s face maintained its diplomatic smile, but Kate could tell it took an effort to do so.

  “I’ve already told you how I came to hire him.” His calm tone soothed Kate in spite of the tension that emanated from the group. “I saw him slip into the back pew several weeks ago, just after the morning service started. When I came back here to greet him after the service, he asked if he could make an appointment to speak with me—”

  “Speak to you,” Parsons cut in. “Not apply for a job.”

  Kate sucked in her breath. They were talking about Avery Griffin.

  Paul ignored the interruption. “Without breaching confidentiality, I can tell you he didn’t come in angling for a job. He’s trying to get his life back on track and was looking for someone he could be accountable to. I felt honored that he chose me—and this church—to turn to.”

  “That still doesn’t explain putting him on the payroll.” Renee shifted the pink Gucci bag to the other arm and lifted Kisses out of its depths.

  “He didn’t hint around for a job here, if that’s what you’re implying,” Paul said. “He told me he wanted to find work and was willing to take anything available. I knew we needed someone to clean the church, so I offered the position to him. As I saw it, it was an opportunity to extend grace.”

  He looked at Old Man Parsons and Renee Lambert in turn. “Don’t we all deserve a second chance? Where would any of us be if God never gave us a chance to start over?”

  Parsons snorted. “The man’s had a second chance. A third and fourth one too. Some people are just too far gone to deserve a helping hand.”

  Beside him, Renee nodded like a sage. “I’m afraid I have to agree. The man has fallen off the wagon more than once.”

  Kisses, released from his confinement in the oversized bag, squirmed in her arms. Renee massaged the spot between his ears with the tip of one French-manicured fingernail before continuing. “You may be putting the church in jeopardy just by having him on the premises.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.” Old Man Parsons raised a bony fist and brought it down against the palm of his other hand. “Give the man a key, leave him alone down here when he’s supposed to be cleaning, and you know what’s bound to happen?”

  His bushy white eyebrows bristled as he glared at Paul. “He’ll clean the place, all right. Clean it out! Next thing you know, that fancy computer of yours will wind up in some pawn shop in Chattanooga, and you’ll never see it again.”

  Kate glanced around, thankful to find Avery standing by himself in a far corner of the sanctuary, hopefully out of earshot. That was doubtful, though, considering the way Old Man Parsons tended to speak several decibels louder than necessary.

  Trying not to look like she was staring, she watched Avery shift from one foot to the other. With his slight build and nondescript coloring, it would be easy for him to blend into the background. That seemed to be the case that morning, as Kate noted several people walk past him without a second glance.

  He shot a quick look toward the rear of the sanctuary from time to time, as though he knew their little group was talking about him, and he wanted to pretend he wasn’t aware of it.

  Kate knew exactly how he felt.

  She nudged Paul’s elbow and jerked her head slightly in Avery’s direction, hoping he would pick up on her signal.

 
He flicked a quick glance toward her and gave a barely perceptible nod. His smile broadened, and he reached out to grip Old Man Parsons’ shoulder.

  “From the smells coming from the kitchen, I’d say we have a delectable meal waiting for us. Why don’t we set this aside for now? I’ll stop by your place tomorrow, and we can talk more about your concerns then.”

  The old man’s eyes narrowed, but he shuffled off toward the stairwell. “Fine, but don’t expect me to go home and forget about this. I’ll expect you tomorrow.”

  Just as Kate started to relax, Parsons raised his reedy voice a notch higher and added, “Mark my words, nothing good will come of having a drunk on the premises.”

  “Oh no!” Kate clapped her hand to her mouth and whirled around. The corner where Avery had been standing was vacant.

  She looked up at Paul and caught him by the sleeve. “Avery must have slipped out. Do you think he heard?”

  “Are you kidding? The Presbyterians, the Episcopalians, and the Baptists heard that.” He kept his tone light, but the grim look on his face told Kate he was every bit as disturbed by the outburst as she was.

  He took her by the arm and led her into the foyer. Stopping at the head of the stairs, he gave her a wry grin. “Ready for some fun and fellowship?”

  Chapter Nine

  Sorry, lady. I can’t help you.” The grease-covered mechanic wiped his hands on an even greasier rag and eyed Kate’s Honda. “But if you want your tires rotated, we’ve got a special this week.”

  “Not today, thanks.” Kate climbed back into her car and cast a doleful glance at LuAnne, who waited in the passenger seat. “That’s the second auto-repair shop that says they’ve never done business with Roland Myers. What now?”

  LuAnne patted her red hair into place. “We keep on goin’, that’s what. There’s only one more place. Let’s check it out.”

  “Are you sure? I’ve taken up most of your afternoon as it is.”

  LuAnne snorted. “Like I have anything but time on my hands these days. With the diner closed down, I’m bored half out of my mind, so you’re doin’ me a favor by giving me something to do. Besides, I’d like to have a hand in catchin’ the scoundrel who put me out of work. Let’s get going, darlin’. You never know when a clue is gonna turn up.”

  She winked at Kate. “And if we strike out at the next place, we’ll head over to Emma’s Ice Cream and drown our sorrows in a hot-fudge sundae.”

  Kate summoned up a grin in response, hoping to convey a cheerfulness she was far from feeling. She started the engine and put the car in gear. “You’re on.”

  Following LuAnne’s directions, she drove to Bernie’s Body Shop at the south edge of Copper Mill. Since Roland Myers lived out east of town, she doubted they would fare any better at this place than the other two. Still, she didn’t want to hurt LuAnne’s feelings.

  And if three strikes were the criteria for deserving that sundae...

  “Right here,” LuAnne announced. “Turn quick, or you’ll miss the driveway.”

  Kate made a quick right turn, followed by an even quicker application of her brakes. The tiny patch of ground that served as Bernie’s parking lot was barely big enough to squeeze into.

  She surveyed the body shop’s scruffy exterior as she and LuAnne exited the Honda. The building looked as if it had been standing there since the 1930s at least, with its last coat of paint having been applied somewhere back around World War II.

  A bluetick hound lay sleeping in a shaft of afternoon sun between the car and the door marked Office. LuAnne strode past with a brisk, no-nonsense step. Kate approached with a bit more caution.

  When Kate drew even with the dog, it cracked one eye open long enough to register the presence of two newcomers, flopped the tip of its tail a couple of times, then went back to its nap.

  Kate caught up to LuAnne and murmured, “This doesn’t look very promising, does it?”

  LuAnne refused to be pessimistic. “On the contrary, darlin’, this is just the kind of place we’re looking for. Bernie’s always workin’ on some kind of old beater. Just the sort who might be buying used parts. I should have put him at the top of the list right off.”

  Taking the lead, LuAnne pulled open the grimy glass door and sailed through the tiny office to the work bay on the other side.

  The moment they entered the shop, the combined smells of grease and gasoline permeated Kate’s nostrils, and she had to make an effort not to sneeze. Most of the bay was taken up by a Chevy pickup with rusted-out side panels—a better candidate for a junkyard than a repair shop, in Kate’s opinion.

  “Hey, LuAnne.”

  Kate jumped at the sound of the raspy voice and turned to look for its source. Two men were parked in rickety wooden folding chairs against the far wall. Both held half-full bottles of RC Cola in their laps.

  LuAnne waved a greeting. “How y’all doin’, boys?”

  Boys? Both of them looked like they could have come over on the ark. At the very least, they predated this decrepit building by a good many years.

  “When’s the diner gonna open up again?” called the wispy-haired old-timer on the left.

  LuAnne shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to Loretta about that, Walt. I’m not real sure what her plans are.” She raised her voice. “Bernie, where are you? You got a minute to talk?”

  A muffled grunt came from beneath the truck, and Kate watched a pair of coverall-clad legs emerge from under the near side, followed by a grimy torso, and finally a grease-smeared face that burst into a wide grin when he caught sight of the two women.

  “I’ve always got time for my favorite waitress. What’s up?”

  “This is my friend, Kate Hanlon. She’s our pastor’s wife out at Faith Briar. Someplace you should consider visiting instead of sleepin’ in on Sunday mornings.”

  Bernie pulled himself to his feet and extended his hand to Kate. Then, glancing down at his grease-encrusted palm, he appeared to think better of it and brought it back to his side.

  He grinned at her instead. “What can I do for you? You need an oil change?”

  Why did everyone seem bent on servicing her car? Kate eyed the onlookers in the back, who were obviously hanging on every word. She wondered if she and LuAnne should speak privately with Bernie in his office.

  LuAnne, though, didn’t seem to feel the least bit uncomfortable about having the old-timers listen in. Kate gave Bernie a bright smile.

  “I’m just looking for some information today, and I wondered if you might be able to help me.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Do you know a man named Roland Myers?” She waited for the umpire to call strike three.

  Bernie swiped at his cheek with a greasy rag, leaving behind a wide swath of black. “Lives out on Mountain Laurel? Sure, I know him.”

  “Do you ever buy any used parts from him?” She held her breath, hoping the question hadn’t sounded accusatory.

  Bernie’s face took on a comical look of surprise. “Buy from him? No, but I sell him quite a few parts. At least, I used to.”

  He stuffed the rag back in his pocket. “He’s always needin’ something for those cars he restores. He doesn’t have the cash to spring for brand-new parts, but I can usually find something we can jury-rig so it’ll do the job for him.”

  His grin faded, and concern shadowed his features. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for a while. I hope he’s okay.”

  Uh-oh. Had she just established herself as a friend of Roland’s? “I, uh, saw him just the other day. He looked fine to me.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Bernie stuck his hands in his back pockets and glanced at the truck he’d been working on. “Well, if that’s all...”

  Kate took the hint. “Thank you for your time. It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, too, Miz Hanlon.” Bernie started to turn away, then paused. “Hanlon... Are you the one I read about in the Chronicle? The lady whose wallet turned up in Roland’s Mustang?”

  Kate closed he
r eyes and nodded. She could see it now. That would be the way she would go down in Copper Mill history.

  Bernie beamed at her. “So he finally got her up and goin’! How’s she run?”

  Kate felt her mouth drop open.

  On the other side of the shop, Walt planted his hands on his knees and wobbled to his feet. “Ain’t gonna run at all anymore, the way I heard it.”

  He shuffled across the concrete floor and peered at Kate through his thick bifocals. “So you’re the one who drove ’er through the diner.”

  His companion creaked his way over to join them. “I bet Loretta is plenty mad at you, right?”

  Walt elbowed his buddy in the ribs. “Nope. The story is they were in on it together. I hear Loretta had the place insured for plenty.”

  “You’re both wrong.” Bernie shook his head and spoke with a tone of authority. “The word around town is she’s gonna sell out and let someone else open a new restaurant. I hear they’re emptying it all out and gettin’ ready to put in one of them fancy French places with starched napkins and a mayterdee to show you to your table.”

  “Sounds like big money there.” A thin laugh wheezed from Walt’s scrawny chest, and he jerked his thumb in Kate’s direction. “I guess she really did Loretta some kind of favor by plowin’ into the diner, didn’t she?”

  Kate gaped at them all like a fish out of water.

  LuAnne planted one hand on her hip and raised the other to point a finger at the trio. “Shame on you! Y’all are worse than a bunch of old women when it comes to gossip.”

  Then she wheeled around and said to Kate, “Come on, darlin’. We’ve found out all we’re goin’ to here.”

  Kate followed her friend back to the Honda and sank gratefully into the driver’s seat. Her tottery legs wouldn’t have supported her one moment longer.

  A string of incoherent sounds came out of her mouth before she could manage to form actual words. “Is that what they think? That I was driving that car?”

  LuAnne shifted in the seat until they were face-to-face, then she took Kate’s right hand in hers. Leaning forward, she stared directly into Kate’s eyes.