by J W Brazier
“Yes, we found him and one by the barn. We’ve called for additional ambulances. Ben Archer is under guard at the hospital. It appears he suffered a major heart attack trying to escape.” Tom hesitated, then said, “Joshua, did you employ a private security force, say maybe six or seven other men?”
Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Other men? Private security? No, Tom, I couldn’t afford them even if I needed them. Why do you ask?”
“Well, whoever they were scared George Farnsworth and his men. He keeps babbling about the huge men guarding your house. Oh, and we found the explosives George had set.”
“Explosives?” Joshua said.
Tom nodded. “George wired your house with enough explosives to replace your home with a deep three-acre pond. He did a professional job. They tranquilized your dogs, which enabled them to get close to the house undetected. None of you would have survived, Joshua, and I emphasize, no one. George said that when he pushed the button to blow your house, six men had already removed the explosives. It seems they scared those old boys when they tossed them back at their feet. Farnsworth swore his C-4 started falling out of the sky in front of them. Strange stuff, don’t you think?”
Joshua looked at Pastor Steve and grinned.
Sheriff Frazier nodded and said, “Like Tom says, Joshua, very strange indeed. Something unexplainable happened out here. When we arrived, my deputies met them running out of the woods toward us, begging for protection. I don’t know what they’d seen, but we saw nothing. Those men were scared, thinking something horrible was coming for them.”
Jamal shook his head. “Wait a minute, Sheriff, Chief Jefferson. What you’re both saying doesn’t make sense. I thought I was the first to arrive. Sheriff, I met one of your deputies. He was already on the property, standing in the road—a man named ‘Joseph’—and he said he and some other deputies had been assigned to protecting the Austins. He gave a detailed rundown on the shooters. He knew where they were, and how many.” Jamal focused on Sheriff Frazier. “So, Sheriff, did you assign deputies to guard this property?”
Sheriff Frazier just stared at Jamal. “Agent Rashid, no deputies were ever assigned. Joshua wouldn’t allow it to start with. My office received a telephone call from a man named ‘Adam.’ The dispatcher said he didn’t give a last name. He said Mayor Austin was in danger and needed our help ASAP. That’s when I called you. A disturbance at the jail held us up or we’d have been here sooner. And another thing … I have no officers named Joseph … or Adam.”
Just then, the paramedics laid Glenn on the gurney, strapped him down, and headed out to the ambulance. Jamal and Sheriff Frazier stepped aside to make room for them.
After the medics made their way outside, Meagan’s face lit up. She smiled and pointed at the front door. “Mama, look! There’s Joseph and Adam with the other angels outside with Mr. Glenn.”
“What do you mean?” Brenda asked.
“Let me down, please, Mama!” Meagan said.
Brenda set her down and Meagan scampered outside. Clay, Courtney, and Danielle all followed her to the front porch. Now recovered from the tranquilizer drugs, Nehemiah and Gracie saw the children and leapt to their feet, barking and wagging their bushy tails. The children, though, ignored the dogs to wave and giggle at their unseen friends.
Joshua, Dean, and Ann walked past the others toward the ambulance. Everyone else followed. Joshua stopped and looked around, then back at Brenda and shrugged, as if to say, I can’t see a thing, but he knew the children could. He envied them, remembering what his own father once told him: “The innocent eyes of a faithful child are allowed to see what adults can only hope to glimpse.” Joshua walked over alongside the gurney and leaned in close, taking hold of Glenn’s hand.
“Thank you, my friend,” Joshua said. “I’m forever in your debt. You saved my life.”
Glenn eyes, glazed from the medication, only blinked in response. The oxygen mask hid a slight grin.
Ann then leaned over and whispered into her father’s ear. “Dad, I love you.”
Glenn’s grin widened. The ambulance crew nodded at Joshua and Ann, then rolled Glenn into the back.
Dean came alongside Ann and gave her a quick hug. “Go with him. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Meanwhile, a frustrated Jamal just wasn’t satisfied with Sheriff Frazier’s answer. The appearance of a mysterious deputy alone was puzzling—and now what were the children seeing that he couldn’t?
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Jamal finally said.
Pastor Steve walked over and stood beside Jamal. “Angels, Agent Rashid. Angels.”
“What? Excuse me?” Now feeling incensed, Jamal assumed the big pastor’s absurd remark about angels was some kind of private joke.
They’re can’t be serious with such nonsense … or … are they? he wondered.
“You saw one, Agent Rashid,” Steve said. “You spoke with him. His name was Joseph. Remember, you told Sheriff Frazier how Joseph had helped you when you arrived?”
Jamal pursed his lips, then gave a little nod. Pastor Steve had a valid point; that, he couldn’t argue against. The man he’d talked with was as real as the air he breathed; there was no doubt in his mind.
“Yes, I did see him. We talked, and he did help me.”
“Well, there you go.” Pastor Steve turned and started to leave, but stopped and faced Jamal, then reached out and shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Rashid, for your help today. I can see by the look on your face that you’re struggling with unresolved questions. Maybe it’s about angels—the good ones and the bad.”
Jamal shrugged. “Uhh … Yes, yes, I am. But … if the good ones are protectors, then .. well, they failed, didn’t they? One man is dead; another is critically wounded.”
“Yes,” Steve said, “and others lived. I don’t claim to have all those answers, but haven’t you at times questioned Allah’s divine purposes. Christians do the same. Let’s talk again, okay? I promise, I won’t try and convert you, but we can have a coffee and talk … as friends. I’ll look forward to your call.”
Jamal laughed, and then Steve did too.
“No harm in that, Pastor,” Jamal said, “and yes, I’d like that. Coffee would be nice, and we can talk … as friends.”
“Yes, we can, Agent Rashid. Yes, we can.” Pastor Steve gave him a pat on his shoulder and walked away.
“Hmm … Think I’ll be looking forward to that coffee and discussion, Pastor,” Jamal whispered while watching the big pastor leave.
Moments later, Agent Rashid returned to his car, still struggling with what Pastor Steve had put forward about Joseph. Jamal wondered if he had indeed interacted with an angel? The impression seemed preposterous at face value, yet he couldn’t deny the cold, hard facts. Joseph, the man, existed, and was tangible. About that, he had no doubt. Envisioning Pastor Steve’s suggestion conveyed a peace and hope that refreshed Jamal’s soul.
But how in the world would he explain Joseph, the phantom deputy, in his report?
Chapter 41
Time had passed in a blur for Shelby. She’d more or less ran the day-to-day business of the mayor’s office during Joshua’s frequent absences of late. Ben Archer and his band of criminal misfits had left their ugly imprint in their brazen attempts to murder her boss. Joshua, his family, and friends still suffered aftereffects from the assault.
At her desk, Shelby was in the zone with earbuds stuffed into her ears. Oblivious to noise and distractions, her fingers danced over her computer keyboard like a concert pianist, honed in on typing the dictation notes from the end-of-month budget report.
When Joshua entered the reception area, she hadn’t noticed until he’d caught her attention out the corner of her eye. He never spoke, but walked straight past her desk toward his office. Head down, he seemed lost in his own private world of thoughts. Shelby stopped the recorder, pulled the earbuds out of her ears, and stood.
“Well, well, good morning, Mr. Mayor. It’s good to see you t
his morning,” she said with a beaming smile.
Joshua, though, didn’t look up or acknowledge her, but continued to the door of his office. He stopped short of entering, though, then turned around to face her, appearing embarrassed. Her jubilant greeting had apparently jolted him out of his mental fog.
“I’m sorry, Miss Shelby. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just wasn’t paying attention. Good morning.”
“Oh, that’s alright. You’re an early surprise. I didn’t expect you this morning, so I scheduled your appointments for the afternoon. I hope that’s okay?”
He nodded. “That’s fine, Shelby. I’ll stick with your plans. Is there any fresh coffee, by chance?”
“Oh, yes, sir, it’s a fresh pot. I was about to have another cup myself. I’ll bring you one.”
“Thanks, Shelby.” He started to enter his office again, but stopped short and turned around. “Shelby.”
“Hmm?” She set the coffeepot down and faced Joshua.
“If I’ve appeared or acted … well, distant of late, I apologize, but that’s no excuse for my behavior. I’ve meant to say, ‘Thank you’ many times for the way you’re handling this office. You’ve helped more than you realize. Your sacrifice has allowed my family time together to heal without interruptions, and for that we’re in your debt. I only wish I could—”
“Joshua, please, there’s no need to thank me. It’s my pleasure, but thank you for noticing. Tell Brenda and the children hello for me.”
“I’ll do that.”
Joshua cracked his office door, stopped, closed it, and turned around. The present moment seemed an opportune time to visit with his irreplaceable assistant, he figured.
“Shelby, what say we have our coffee out here? We should take time to visit awhile. Business can wait. What do you say?”
“Well, listen to you! That’s a refreshing idea. I’ll bring our coffee while you look over the stack of call-back messages on the corner of my desk.”
He cocked his left eyebrow and grinned at Shelby’s stubborn methods to focus him on unfinished details. He picked up her four-inch-thick stack of pink messages. With a quick shuffle, he threw away the unimportant ones, playing two-pointer basketball with the trash can.
They’ll call back anyway, he mused.
Shelby returned with their coffee and noticed the crumpled messages scattered around the trash can.
“You can throw them away, but you’ll have to talk with them sooner or later.”
He smiled. “Yes … I know, but for now, they can wait.”
A half an hour soon passed, each enjoying their relaxing discussions from simple chitchat to newsworthy items.
“How’s Mr. Boyd?” Shelby asked.
“He’s still in intensive care, in serious condition. Ann hasn’t left his side, but Dean is giving her some needed breaks, whether she wants them or not, which is a good thing. I plan on visiting with him tomorrow and bring him a special gift I have for him.”
“Joshua, I’m sad to hear about your friend, Mr. Taylor. He sounded like a nice man, someone I would’ve liked.”
“Thank you, Miss Shelby. I knew him only a short while, but I agree: he was a nice man. I’ll miss Ian.”
“What about Brenda and the children? How are they holding up?”
“Brenda’s fine. She’s busy staying on top of the repairs and doing a bit of remodeling, which is a good thing, I suspect. She’s our strong anchor. Meagan is sleeping better, but still climbs in our bed on occasion. Hard to imagine this, but from such a tragic event, we’ve all benefited in small, but important ways. Clay, Courtney, and Danielle are showing maturity, but more important, as a family, we’ve grown closer.”
“Oh, that’s so great to hear, Joshua. They’re strong kids, and good kids.”
The telephone rang. Shelby looked at the wall clock behind her desk—7: 20 a.m. Puzzled, she checked the caller ID, but the phone system had blocked the call number. She picked up their coffee cups as if the telephone were a factory break whistle: time to return to work.
Joshua, though, held up a hand. “Shelby, at this hour, why don’t we leave that beast alone? We’re closed, after all.”
“Well, I would, but my sister is sick with a fever. A bad cold. I told her if she needed anything to call me. Excuse me, Joshua.” She set the cups on her desk and answered the call. “Good morning, mayor’s office, Shelby speaking.”
Joshua had already stood and was stuffing the remainder of his call-back messages into his jacket when he noticed the anguish in Shelby’s eyes and face. He wondered if it was her sick sister or more bad news. Shelby dropped the telephone to her breast with her hand over the mouthpiece.
“Joshua, he … he wants to speak to you,” she whispered, her voice stilted on the verge of tears.
“Shelby, are you okay? Who is this person?”
“I don’t know, Joshua, but the way he barks orders, it’s as if I’m his slave. He’s scaring me. He said that I was on his list, and he’d deal with me another time. What does he mean by that?”
“What on earth?” Joshua’s temper flared.
“He knows you’re in the office early. He said to tell you that he’s in town for that visit he promised.”
Joshua flinched. He nodded. “Give me the telephone, Shelby.”
Her hand trembled. She sat down and slumped in her chair.
“Judas,” Joshua said. “It appears you take pleasure in scaring women and children with threatening phone calls. That’s the mark of your cowardice. State your business and make it quick.”
“Temper, temper, Mr. Austin. One would imagine a follower of that Nazarene would demonstrate better manners.”
“Get to it, Mister. Enough of your games.”
“As you wish. Meet me in your new courthouse pressroom in twenty minutes. Tell no one and come alone.”
The telephone went silent before Joshua could counter. He slammed the receiver down.
“Blast it!” he said.
Shelby jumped, startled. She’d never seen him that upset and out of control.
“I’m sorry, Shelby.”
Joshua tapped the desktop with his fingertips, considering what he should do. I’ll be dealing with a powerful demonic spirit—or, from Ian and Deborah’s claims, the Devil himself. I’ve no choice either way but to meet and hear it out.
He refused to be intimidated or to run from something he’d never seen or met. He marched over, grabbed his hat, and headed out for the meeting. A walk would allow him time to think and still make it on time.
“Joshua, where are you going?”
Joshua walked toward the door without looking back. His answer to Shelby was stern and resolute: “Courthouse pressroom. I’m going to have a little one-on-one talk with the Devil.”
*
Joshua took familiar shortcuts in his march to the courthouse, to avoid any encounters with the public.
What will he be like? he wondered. He mulled a range of engaging, yet troubling thoughts, all suspicious and fearful. I’ve made a stupid mistake by not telling anyone about this meeting. Is this a trap? Am I in danger?
“This is crazy, I’m losing it,” he muttered, as if talking to himself would help. “I’ve agreed to a meet with an abominable creation. What’s his reason for coming? Why does he want to speak with me? What’s his motive?” he uttered aloud.
Tense, his nerves on edge, he struggled with the knowledge of what awaited him once he made it inside the building. The courthouse came into sight. His confidence began to wane, but he kept walking. Joshua stopped at the bottom of the courthouse steps and stared up at the building. The streets were quiet; no traffic or pedestrians in sight. He took a deep breath and climbed the steps, imagining the building as if it were a giant crypt.
Once inside, he turned left and walked toward the new pressroom. Before entering, the truth of what and who he was about to meet coalesced and brought him to a screeching halt. He hesitated at the entrance, envisioning the double doors as though they were the gates
of hell.
Silly imagination, he mused.
Halfway down the sloping center aisles to the stage, Joshua stopped. He took his time looking around, left and right. The auditorium seats were empty, the eerie suspense unnerving, the space quiet as a tomb. Except for the center stage, where a single dim overhead light illuminated the podium, the lighting toward the back seats was dark.
He mounted the stage in four quick steps, his shoes echoing off the hardwood floor as he walked to center stage. Judas hadn’t arrived yet, it seemed. Joshua decided to check the backstage rooms and office areas for any possible surprises. After a few minutes of exploring, he felt satisfied that he was alone in the pressroom. He was about to return to the stage when he noticed two men to his left—one white, the other black, both with brooms in hand and sweeping the floor.
Where did those guys come from?
The two men looked formidable, at least six-four or taller, maybe late forties, both with long hair slicked back to ponytails. Their loose coveralls couldn’t hide the outline of their muscular physiques. A second look, though, and they didn’t appear hostile.
Janitors? Joshua wondered.
The men stopped their sweeping and leaned on their brooms, as if grateful for the break, and greeted Joshua with pleasant smiles.
“Hello, Mayor Austin. Our apologies, we didn’t mean to startle you. We didn’t expect anyone to be here this early in the morning,” said the white man.
“Not a problem, gentlemen. I was expecting someone else.”
“Should we come back later, sir?” the white man asked.
“Oh, no, continue with your work. You’re not disturbing me.”
The big men smiled.
“Mr. Austin,” the white one said, “if you need anything, my name is Aaron, and my partner is Moses.”
Joshua couldn’t help but grin. He tried to stifle his snicker, but it escaped before he could restrain himself. “I apologize, Aaron. I’m not laughing at you. Your names … well … they struck me as funny.”
Aaron laughed. “Not to worry, Mayor, we get that all the time.” Aaron elbowed his partner. “Don’t we, Moses?”