She glared at a seagull bobbing on the water. Nobody’d print something like that. Except perhaps the local tabloid, and Troy likely didn’t want his byline showing up there. Would an online article get enough attention? From normal people, not the lizard-fearers?
Amy scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dirt. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Troy believed the warning texts. He wouldn’t do anything to put her at risk. He’d still investigate, as long as there were leads to chase. Had he talked to the pilot?
Gilles’ unnamed friend wanted to help from a distance. It wasn’t like everyone had abandoned Gilles. Amy sighed. Not everyone. Just those in authority. Plus his family and most friends.
“Good thing she’s not a doctor.” Aunt Bay’s voice behind Amy nearly startled her off the rock.
Amy twisted her head to look at Michael’s aunt. How long had she been standing there?
Aunt Bay stepped forward and carefully lowered herself onto another of the big rocks. “Constable Marsh. Terrible bedside manner. But she may be very good at her job.”
“Is antagonizing the victim a requisite skill?”
Aunt Bay’s lips twitched. “I’m sure it comes in handy at times. If the victim has something to hide, which in this case you do not.” She looked out over the water. “Did you notice she didn’t actually say there was no sabotage?”
“Yes, she did.”
“No. She quoted others, and offered alternate suggestions.”
“Well, she implied it.” Amy’s hair had fallen forward over her shoulders. She gathered it in a brisk motion and flung it behind her back. “Sometimes I think it’s me. I’m small and nondescript. People treat me like a child.”
“Not those who know you.”
“You call me a child!” Amy studied the bare ground between her shoes.
“I call most people ‘child’ if they’re younger than me. Especially if I want to rattle their chains. But I hope I treat you as the responsible adult you are.” Aunt Bay reached out and took Amy’s hand. “You, Amy Silver, are very precious to me. I’m proud of how you’ve rebuilt your life and how you’re standing up to this challenge. And how you push Michael beyond the boundaries he likes to set.”
Amy’s head came up. “I feel like he’s closing us all in. Like overprotecting me has become a habit, and as a guardian he only dares go out when you’re home. Between that, work, and a bit of church stuff, he doesn’t have a life. No guy events, not one date that I can remember since I moved in.” Okay, that was a good thing. Seeing Michael in love with someone else would kill her. But still… “Don’t you worry about him?”
The older woman’s lips twisted. “Somewhat, but I expect it will work out in time. He does see you, Amy. But Gilles casts a long shadow.”
“I—” Amy looked away. One more thing she didn’t want to talk about with this too-perceptive woman. “You were very quiet with the constable, Aunt Bay. You didn’t even challenge her to pronounce your name.”
A quiet chuckle said Amy’s diversion was temporary at best. “I suspected the officer might be lacking the necessary sense of fun. Besides, it’s always good to try new things. Quiet elderly people — and those of petite stature — are often overlooked, which provides the chance to observe and learn things that speakers wouldn’t ordinarily reveal. In this case, I picked up on Marsh’s noncommittal handling of the sabotage question.”
“So what does it mean?” A squirrel raced across the ground in front of Amy and shot up a nearby tree.
Aunt Bay shrugged. “She knows more than she’s telling.”
“And that helps us how?” The squirrel chattered a tirade at whatever had frightened it. Amy smiled. “I guess I was a bit like that with the officer. I cannot stand being talked down to.”
“I’m not sure she meant to have that effect. Although she may have. That one’s more calculating than she appears.”
“Well, I hope she uses her smarts to find the truth, instead of swallowing the politically-correct group-think.”
Scattered pine needles drifted to the ground. Amy looked up to see the squirrel dash outward along a branch and jump to the outstretched branch of the next tree. A few more needles rained down in its wake. It stopped, scolded again, and took off.
Aunt Bay stood. “This rock makes a hard seat.”
Pain had been growing in Amy’s hip. Movement would hurt, but staying longer would only make it worse. She braced a hand on her own rock and pushed to her feet. “Remind me next time I storm out for air to take my cane.”
The older woman held out a hand. “Lean on me.”
Amy took her arm. “You like having me around because I make you look younger. Don’t deny it.”
“It’s a fringe benefit.” Aunt Bay matched Amy’s slow pace across the grass. “People talk down to senior citizens too, as if grey hair and wrinkles are a sign of regression. I could let them define me, or get angry about it, or I can be myself and not worry about their short-sightedness.”
“Come on, I’ve seen you put people in their place.” Like poor Troy, on his first visit.
“I can be forthright, yes, but it’s a deliberate choice. I don’t let people goad me into it.” She chuckled. “It’s more effective that way. The trick is to not allow them to make you angry. You’ll turn into someone you won’t like.”
Amy stepped on a fallen pine cone, and it crackled underfoot. “I feel like that’s happening already.”
“You have a lot on your mind, with this sabotage possibility, and your father. And Michael says Luc’s been giving you grief.” Aunt Bay stopped before stepping onto the stairs to the deck. “When God is stirring our hearts, things get messy at first. I know you’re not ready to talk about it, but trust me. The longer He stirs, the more ‘stuff’ floats to the top. And He can’t help you clean it up until you ask Him to.”
Mistake. Should never have been born. God made the rules. This was beyond cleaning up.
~~~
Michael had the microwave running when they entered the kitchen, and the scent of warm spices set Amy’s mouth watering. The oven light was on. Were those biscuits she saw through the glass?
He turned from the sink. “Everything will be ready in about five more minutes, or it can wait if that’s too soon. Aunt Bay, I wasn’t sure what time you wanted to leave tonight.”
His aunt glanced at the wall clock. “There’s plenty of time. I’ll go wash up. Are you hungry, Amy?”
Amy drew in a deep breath. “I am now. Is that the rest of the stew I smell?”
Michael grinned. “It’s best after it’s mellowed for a day or two.”
Aunt Bay left the room. Amy heard the bathroom door close. She stepped nearer to Michael. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you this afternoon. Maybe I’m not as ready to take on the world as I think.”
His lips twitched. “Or too ready.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes as if looking for wounds. “I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard, but I know sometimes it’s easier to work than to stop and think.”
Amy nodded, soaking up the warmth of his touch. “That phone call was scary.”
“Hence the comfort food.” Michael’s smile told her all was forgiven.
It took all Amy’s self-control not to launch herself into his arms. A hug would do her so much good right now, even a bittersweet, brotherly embrace. But she’d cried on him once already this week. She would not turn into a drama queen like Emilie.
Instead, she left the room to wash her hands.
When she returned, Aunt Bay had the table set and was filling water glasses. “How’s your hip?”
Amy grimaced. “Better than it should be after sitting on that cold rock. How are you?”
“Fine. I’m the spry one, remember?”
“Well, thank you for coming after me.”
Michael carried a plate of steaming, golden biscuits to the table. “Amy, would you get the butter, please? I’ll bring the bowls.”
After they were seated and Aunt Bay said gr
ace, Amy asked, “Where are you off to tonight?” The older woman didn’t often go out in the evenings.
“There’s a special speaker at church, talking about forgiveness.” Aunt Bay split a biscuit and extended her knife for some butter. “I wish you could go. It might give you some perspective with your father. Even on God’s desire to overcome whatever’s keeping you from Himself. But you’ve had enough excitement today.”
A talk on forgiveness would count as excitement?
Michael’s brows drew together. “Bad idea, Aunt Bay.”
Aunt Bay locked his gaze. Her features sharpened. “Are you vetoing me?”
“I want what’s best for Amy.”
“So do I. That’s why I’m disappointed she’s not going this evening.”
Amy glanced from one to the other and tried to keep herself calm. Don’t turn into someone you don’t like. “Do I have a say in this?”
Michael sighed. “You don’t want to go. Trust me.”
“How do you know?”
Something like worry flickered in his eyes. “The speaker is the last woman abducted by Harry Silver. The only survivor. She convinced him to turn himself in.”
Aunt Bay touched Amy’s hand. “I wanted you to hear the forgiveness part. But her ordeal must have been terrifying. You don’t need to be thinking about that this evening.”
Amy stared at the older woman. “Harry Silver is my cousin.”
The faintest pink suffused Beatrice’s face. “I didn’t know.”
“Remember I told you we met my cousin Carol at the Toronto show? He’s her brother. I thought Michael would have told you.”
He shrugged. “It was yours to tell. And it wasn’t relevant until this came up.”
Aunt Bay stared into her stew for a long moment before looking at Amy with pain-filled eyes. “Is that what holds you back from God? You said it was outside your control. Something your cousin did to you?”
Amy shook her head. “I only knew him by reputation — first as a racing star, then as a monster.”
The older woman’s expression cleared. “That’s close enough for any of us. One of his victims was our speaker’s niece. I want to hear how she could forgive that, and then forgive God for allowing her to be abducted, herself.”
“Aunt Bay!” Amy’s hand flew to her mouth. How could a believing person speak that way?
Michael’s aunt nodded, as if she heard Amy’s thoughts. “We should never blame God for what happens. But when you know He could have prevented something, it can be a struggle to accept that He didn’t.”
Amy twirled the spoon in her stew. “She forgave Harry for what he did to her niece. Why?”
Aunt Bay huffed. “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it?”
“But why?”
“I don’t know the full story. That’s why I’m going tonight. God does tell us to forgive others. It doesn’t mean they’re not guilty, but it frees us to be whole. That’s why I hoped you’d come with me. But not today.”
“I want to go.” The words left Amy’s mouth before she knew they’d formed. She blinked. Thought about it. Turned to Michael. “I do. Not to defy you or to prove my independence. It’s — I don’t know.” Amy pressed her palm to her chest, fingers wide. “Something inside says to go. Maybe because Aunt Bay’s been pestering me about my father.”
The older woman slid the plate of biscuits closer to Amy. “Pestering, indeed.”
“Well, you do. And we love you for it.” Amy looked from Aunt Bay to Michael. “If this woman had been threatened first, it could be too much for me tonight, but Harry’s crimes were a different thing altogether. I’ll be okay. And I won’t tell anyone he’s a relative.”
Michael studied her for a long moment, as if measuring what she’d said. He nodded. “If you think you should go, I hope it helps.”
Amy spooned a mouthful of stew. Church. What had she gotten herself into? But if this woman could forgive the unforgivable, Amy might pick up a way to let go of her father’s hurt — and of the long absence that hadn’t been his fault.
Chapter 17
Aunt Bay steered her little four-by-four into the church parking lot and found a space not too far from the door.
Amy’s hip twinged as she stepped from the vehicle. Maybe leaving her cane at home was a bad idea, but she didn’t want anything that would draw attention. Slip in, hear what she needed to hear, and stay anonymous. She glanced at Michael’s aunt. Well, as anonymous as possible.
Her steps slowed. Aunt Bay stopped, and turned to wait for her. The older woman smiled. “They don’t bite. I promise. Neither does God.”
Amy stiffened her spine and picked up her pace. Hello, God? I hope You can ignore me coming into Your house. There’s something here I need.
Stepping through the door felt like facing a spiritual version of a security scanner. Every muscle tight, Amy held her breath until she was safely inside. Of course no red lights flashed, no sirens blared. The woman who’d greeted them didn’t suddenly demand some sort of church-approved ID. Still, Amy found herself taking shallow breaths as if to minimize the impact she made on this place.
For all Aunt Bay’s outspokenness, the older woman seemed to respect Amy’s hesitancy. She led the way to aisle seats at a safe distance from the front, and while she waved and greeted her friends at a distance, she didn’t plunge Amy into conversations with strangers.
Amy squeezed Aunt Bay’s hand and whispered, “Thanks for making this easier.” From the aisle, she could escape if need be, and she wouldn’t feel trapped in a crowd of God’s accepted people. Would He mind less, this way?
She leaned nearer to Michael’s aunt. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about you-know-who. I figured Michael would tell you, once he knew.”
Aunt Bay raised an eyebrow. “You came to us with no family. I was happy you found your other cousin, and that your father wants to reconcile, as difficult as that is for you right now. This one, you’ll do better without.”
Amy dropped her voice even lower. “I still can’t believe he turned himself in. I hope she talks a bit about that tonight, too.”
Aunt Bay nodded. She filled the next few minutes pointing out her friends and describing the different groups where she’d met them, and giving Amy an overview of the congregation’s history.
Safe chatter, and Amy didn’t need to retain it or respond. Before long, a middle-aged woman in a burgundy blazer and sharply-creased black pants stepped behind the podium and picked up a microphone.
Amy rubbed a hand across her jeans.
Aunt Bay spoke in her ear. “She always dresses for a board meeting. You fit in fine with the rest of us.”
Amy flashed her a grateful smile. True enough, Aunt Bay and most of her friends had come in their regular clothes.
The woman at the front surveyed the room. “Welcome, everyone. It’s good to see so many new-to-me faces among our regular family. For those who don’t know me, I’m Irina Banks and I coordinate women’s ministries here at Seaview Point.” She stretched out her free hand. “Gentlemen, we’re especially glad to see you here this evening, because I promised our speakers it would be a mixed event.”
Speakers? Plural? Amy glanced at Aunt Bay. The older woman shrugged.
Irina continued, “Ruth and Tony Warner were in the news a few years ago when Ruth was mistakenly abducted by escaped convict Harry Silver. God had called her to pray for the man after his arrest, but only a wild coincidence — or as I like to say, God-incidence — brought them together. Ruth and I have been friends for many years, and I’ve appreciated getting to know Tony as well. In their daily lives, Ruth is on staff at Harrington’s Fabric Hut, and Tony’s principal of Halifax West High School. Ruth and Tony worship at The Beacon Church, and they’ve been sharing their story with local congregations. Now, please join me in welcoming Ruth and Tony Warner.”
She gestured to the side as an ordinary-looking couple walked toward her. The women hugged. Irina passed over the microphone before leaving the platform.
/>
Ruth Warner stood taller than Amy, but not by much. Her husband carried an extra fifty pounds or so. If they felt under-dressed compared to Irina, it didn’t show. Ruth placed some paper on the podium and replaced the mic in the holder. “There. Now if I get flustered, I won’t drop pages everywhere.”
She smiled. “It’s good to be here. Some of you may have heard my story before, and if so I thank you for your kindness to come again tonight. We’re going to give you the basic overview of events, but instead of focusing on what I can only call our ordeal, we want to share what we learned — about God, prayer, and forgiveness.”
Beside her, Tony nodded. “God willing, nobody in this room will endure what we went through. But the lessons we learned apply to stressful situations in general.” He paused. “We will all have stress.”
A ripple of quiet laughter swept the room. Ruth faced the crowd. “This is not my comfort zone, although I’m getting used to it. It took almost as many nudges from God to get me talking as it did to get me praying for Harry in the first place.”
She glanced at her notes. “Harry Silver escaped from prison after being convicted of a series of rapes and murders, all targeting young, blond women with long hair.”
Ruth touched her brown curls. “I don’t fit on a couple of counts. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he grabbed me instead of the young woman he wanted. What you may not know is that the last girl he killed before his arrest was our niece, Susan.”
One hand gripped the edge of the podium. “I hated that man. But God told me to pray for him, gave me a deep concern for his soul.” She moved nearer to her husband. “Tony was furious.”
His beard twitched in what might have been a grimace. “I wasn’t a believer at the time.”
A shadow crossed Ruth’s face. “And you were hurting. We both were. Anyway, long story short. Abducted. Terrified. Harry couldn’t handle my connection with Susan, or the fact that I forgave him to his face.” She shook her head. “Only God could help me do that. So my part of tonight’s talk is about forgiveness — why it’s important, and why we can’t do it alone.”
Without Proof Page 12