“She stopped talking, didn’t she?”
“Where was I?”
“A message for half an hour.”
“Right. Then we sing for a while and then everybody stampedes the kitchen for—hi, Mom, Dad. You remember Ross Malcolm.”
“Hello, young man,” her father said to Ross. “Nice to see you again.”
“I couldn’t stay away,” Ross said with such conviction that Mark McNeill blinked with approval.
“Really. Well. We look forward to seeing you next week too, then.”
“Hello, Mr. Malcolm,” Elizabeth said, her voice tinged with the kind of warmth Julia knew could only have been engendered by Melchizedek’s unspoken endorsement over the young people’s meeting. “I’m Elizabeth McNeill, Julia’s mother.”
“You have a lovely daughter, Mrs. McNeill.”
“Thank you. I understand you were a guest at Madeleine’s recently. Did you enjoy it?”
The blood washed into Julia’s cheeks and she turned away to greet someone she hardly knew.
“Yes. Julia was kind enough to invite me.”
“And what did you think of their home, Mr. Malcolm? Such a godly spirit. Such peace. Here she is now. Hello, darling.” Elizabeth leaned over and hugged her eldest daughter.
“Yeah. Absolutely.” Ross took Julia’s elbow. “Want to introduce me to that blonde? Didn’t I see her in your pictures?”
Julia, thankful to have somewhere else to look, waved Claire over, and her best friend clicked up on brand-new one-inch tapered heels. Julia blurted the first thing that came into her head. “Nice shoes. Did you sneak off to town without telling me?” Was everybody decked out in Ross’s honor? Was she the only one in an old dress and last summer’s pumps?
“No, I’ve had these for a while. Hello,” Claire said with an engaging smile, “you must be Mr. Malcolm.” Julia barely had time to make the introductions when Madeleine and Elizabeth maneuvered Ross into their circle.
Claire leaned over and spoke in low tones to Julia behind Ross’s broad back. “Isn’t this something? Everybody wants to meet him. He’s the hottest news since Lara and Marshall had to get married.”
Madeleine frowned at them.
“Would you keep your voice down?” Julia begged. Her sister left Ross to her mother and tapped Claire’s arm with the spine of her hymnbook.
“Claire, what kind of Spirit is that?” she chided with the smile that Julia knew disguised disapproval. Julia hoped Ross couldn’t hear her friend being bawled out like a five-year-old. “Mr. Malcolm isn’t here to be ‘news,’ he’s here for the salvation of his soul. Shame on you for embarrassing him.”
Ross laughed at something Elizabeth had said and turned to Julia, maneuvering her out of the little group. “Nice bunch of people,” he said. “But right now you’ve got to tell me where the little boys’ room is.” She pointed. “Thanks.” He strolled toward the door.
Claire spoke in a breathy whisper, completely ignoring Madeleine’s warning. “Ooh, Julia, he is some kind of gorgeous. You’d better watch your step.”
“I don’t have to. Everyone else is watching it for me.”
“You should just hear them talking. Derrick is chewing nails. I could hear his teeth grinding from two seats away. Now, don’t give me that look. What is he supposed to think, with you sitting with another man? What are you trying to do to him?”
“I’m working a mission. Nothing more.” Uh-huh. That was some mission up on the mountain. And what about that little scene by the lake? She squelched the mocking voice inside her head. As far as she was concerned, she’d bypassed “mission” entirely and was walking in some uncharted territory with only her feelings for a guide. And so far they were more likely to get her in trouble than help her out.
“Don’t let his looks tempt you,” Claire said earnestly. “Believe me, I know what can happen when you do. Look at my sister. She wants to come back to the Elect, but she’d have to leave Andrew. She’ll never leave the kids, and he’ll never let her take them. Looking Outside only means heartbreak.”
“I know, sweetie,” Julia said, squeezing her friend’s shoulder. Claire’s distress over her sister’s unhappy choices distracted her momentarily from Ross. Yet that insistent voice that had been living in Julia’s head all summer just wouldn’t go away. They all defined themselves by the love of God, but their code forced Elaine to choose between the man she loved and the God she worshiped. God’s love was said to be wider than the heavens and higher than the sky. Why did the Elect force it inside the narrow confines of their way? Seen with the eyes of the Elect, Elaine’s choice should be obvious: she should put her salvation before earthly love and renounce her worldly husband. Seen through the eyes of love, Elaine shouldn’t even have to contemplate such a choice.
Julia knew there was no reconciling the two points of view. Since Ross had ridden into her life, though, she’d found herself able to think from both sides of a question. To the Elect, that ability was fatal. It meant the Devil was working in your mind. There was only one side. Ross had—
Ross. She looked over Claire’s shoulder toward the washroom entrance. Where was he? Had Derrick trapped him in there and challenged him to a duel? Maybe she’d missed him and he’d slipped out the door already. The hall was practically empty and Melchizedek was looking at her expectantly. She walked to the door and shook his hand.
“I’m so pleased your friend was willing to come this evening,” Melchizedek said. “And amazed that his appearance has changed so markedly. The Spirit must be taking control of his life. Do you think he enjoyed sitting under the sound of the gospel?”
“I’m sure he did.” Julia had no idea. She certainly hadn’t heard any of it. “Has he come by?”
“No, I’m anxious to speak to him myself.”
“That’s odd. He went to the men’s room ten minutes ago and I haven’t seen him come out.”
“Would you like me to check? Everyone’s gone now.”
“Oh, no, don’t trouble. I probably just missed him and he’s out in the parking lot waiting for me.” Embarrassed, Julia scurried out the door. She’d finally been able to emulate Madeleine and bring someone to Mission—only to lose him the way she lost scarves and keys.
She barely had time to sweep the parking lot with an anxious gaze before a hand clamped her elbow. “Julia.”
She jumped. “Goodness, Derrick, you scared me!”
“I’ve been standing out here for fifteen minutes, waiting for you.” He tugged on her arm, and unwillingly she went with him to his car. “Where’s your friend?”
“In the men’s. He’ll be out in a moment and I’ll introduce you.”
“That’d be nice. I seem to be the only one in town who hasn’t met my girlfriend’s new man.”
“Derrick!”
The lines around his mouth drooped. “Well, what am I supposed to think? I don’t see you for days, and suddenly you turn up in Mission, making a big production out of sitting together.”
“It wasn’t a production. We came separately. I’m the only person he knows.”
“He knows Owen and Madeleine, from what I hear.”
“He wouldn’t be comfortable up at the front.”
His hurt gaze accused her. “I think you should let Melchizedek take over. If there’s a mission to be worked here, he should be the one to do it.”
“What you think and what Melchizedek thinks are two different things.”
“It looks bad, Julia. How can you shame me in front of everybody?”
She frowned. Shame him? “This isn’t about you. This is about a person’s soul.”
“Do you think about his soul when he smiles at you like that?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She turned away and scanned the parking lot again.
Where on earth was he? A few stray clumps of people stood here and there. The motorcycle was nowhere in sight. Had he walked, or merely parked it discreetly down the block? Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard him arrive
in the first place. As she stood looking from one end of the lot to the other, completely mystified, Melchizedek came out the door and locked it behind him.
He looked around for her and waved. “I checked. No one there,” he called, before striding down the path to his apartment.
“He’s not in the bathroom?” Derrick asked. “Where did he go, then?” Satisfaction at losing the competition was all too visible in his face.
“I—I don’t know,” Julia said.
No one there. No one here. Ross Malcolm had ditched her. And Derrick had to be the one to witness it.
“Would you like to go somewhere and talk?” he said, bending over her, all solicitousness now that she had been completely mortified.
She shrugged him off, distracted, and walked to her car. She had already forgotten about him by the time she turned the key.
Chapter Fourteen
Ross washed his hands, mulling over the cast of characters in this weird investigation. As he pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, he shrugged his shoulders a little, unaccustomed to the restriction of the new jacket. The sacrifices he made for an investigation. He hoped the OCTF would reimburse him for the new mufti when he submitted his expense report.
He slam-dunked the balled-up towel into the trash can, and leaned against the sink thoughtfully. Try as he might, he couldn’t connect Melchizedek’s sermon, exclusive and arrogant as it was, with aberrant behavior, so it wasn’t likely Ryan’s parents were being urged to it from the pulpit. The people were another matter. Conservative to the point of social isolation. But isolationism wasn’t a crime. None of their behavior led him to think they were anything but a harmless splinter group.
Or at least, the kind of harm he’d seen wasn’t the kind he could prosecute. “Them” versus “us” thinking. The privileged, sanctified few against the rest of the world. The refusal to accept fellowship with the rest of the body of believers. Separating the women from the mainstream as effectively as any Middle Eastern group.
The kind of thinking that would be deeply ingrained in his daughter by now, wherever she was. The old pain in his heart had scabbed over into a kind of fatalistic hope. Some day, if he investigated enough people and ferreted out enough cults, God would lead him to her. Some day he’d walk into a house with a prayer and a search warrant, and there she would be.
Except he had no idea what she looked like now. No idea if she knew who he was. Or if she did, how her view of him had been shaped by hatred of the Outside.
The thought of Insiders versus Outsiders led him back to Julia. How could she have survived in a household where the parents’ favoritism was so overt? No wonder she’d been so hard to approach. If she had any self-esteem at all, it was her own doing, and probably hard-won at that, with all this emphasis on humility and self-sacrifice.
And there was old Madeleine, jumping on Claire like a cat on a toy. She’d been happy enough to let her mother sing her praises. What was it with that woman? She had everyone worshiping at her feet, but look out if you turned the spotlight on anyone but her. So much for humility. The only person who showed real humility in this crowd was Julia.
Thankful to have something to smile about again, he ran a glance around the washroom. Thick yellow paint covered plain concrete-block walls, so thick in some places that it looked like cake frosting. The kind of work done by zealous but unskilled volunteers. On the right wall, opposite the door, was a ventilation grille, and as he reached for the door handle, he heard voices. There must be another anteroom on the other side of the wall.
“Madeleine, I’m sorry to follow you in here, but I can’t stand it.” The desperate murmur got his attention. Ross stepped under the grille and listened. “I can’t pray. This is standing between me and God. I need your forgiveness.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Michael. Ryan’s illness was God’s will.”
Michael? The doctor?
“Nothing to forgive? Then why do you despise me? I can see it in your eyes when you look at me…or refuse to look at me. Nothing is the same anymore, Madeleine. I’ve destroyed our relationship, haven’t I?”
“You’re my brother in the Spirit.” Madeleine’s voice became more gentle and controlled the more emotional Dr. Archer became. “That hasn’t changed.”
Her control seemed to goad him. “At least you’d look at a brother! It’s like I don’t exist anymore for you. I tell you, I can’t stand it. Forgive me, hate me, do what you like but at least show me some emotion! It’s all I—” He stopped, and a cold silence fell.
Ross’s eyebrow quirked up in anticipation. Madeleine and the good doctor? Did her adoring parents know what she was up to? Or her husband?
“What emotion do you feel you deserve?” Madeleine asked, a hint of a tremor in her voice. “I’m a happily married woman.”
“And Owen’s worthy of your love. I’m not. I know.”
“Self-pity is a sin, Michael,” she told him. “That’s what is standing between you and God. You’re looking for sympathy in the wrong place.”
“I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m looking for forgiveness.”
“Only Melchizedek and God can give you that,” she snapped. “You’d do better to concentrate on healing other women’s sick children.”
Ross blinked. Madeleine, the role model, showing her claws again? Had that little wobble in her voice been rage, not sorrow?
“Madeleine, wait—”
Ross heard a sound like the snap of a flag, as though a woman’s skirt had been pulled aside in disgust, and the door closed. He straightened. Definitely rage. Something big and nasty was going on here. If ever there was a perfect chance for a few questions, this was it.
The corridor was empty when he stepped out of the washroom. He pulled the anteroom door open and saw a middle-aged man with his back to the door, one shoulder against the wall, slumped in defeat.
“Hey.” Ross put a hand on his shoulder in masculine comfort. “You okay?” Dr. Archer looked up, surprised. Ross shrugged and tried to look sheepish. “I couldn’t help but overhear. My name is Ross Malcolm. It’s none of my business, but I bet if I prescribed a cup of hot coffee, it would do you good. Want to join me?”
The doctor studied him for a moment, evidently weighing the desire for solitude against a chance to be an example to the famous prospect. He held out a hand and Ross shook it. “Michael Archer. Why not?” Archer allowed Ross to steer him out a side door onto the street. Ross didn’t feel too hot about leaving Julia in the lurch, but he’d call her and explain later. The opportunity to learn more about Ryan’s case was too good to ignore.
He found a café on the corner, the kind where the neon signs really had to work at getting through the nicotine film on the windows. Perfect. Ross would bet a month’s salary the Elect wouldn’t be interrupting them anytime soon.
“Thank you,” Archer said as their coffee arrived, along with a cinnamon roll the size of a sofa pillow. “You’re a good man.”
“Want to split this with me?” The sofa pillow was so fresh it bowed in the middle as he tried to cut it.
Archer smiled. “Thank you, but no. I’m not helpless. I feel badly about taking you away from J—er, from your friends for nothing.”
“It’s okay. Can I do anything for you?”
The smile faded, and Archer’s forehead furrowed with pain as he poured milk into his coffee, turning it the color of a muddy spring river. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Are you sure of that? Sounds like you and Julia’s sister have some fences to mend.”
“I don’t understand where you came from.” Archer fixed him with a look.
Ross deliberately ignored the underlying question and answered the obvious. “Like I said, your voices carried into the men’s. Through the vent. Sorry I eavesdropped.”
“It could have been worse. It could have been Mark. Or Owen.” Dr. Archer sighed. “It’s an old and not very interesting story.”
“I’d still like to help.”
&nbs
p; “You can’t forgive me and she won’t,” Archer said. He dropped his head into his hands.
“You could forgive yourself,” Ross suggested gently.
“How can I do that? I can’t tell her what’s wrong with her son. She’s right. It’s my incompetence keeping him from being completely well. Years of it. Years.” His voice hitched to a halt.
“How long have you been in love with her?” Ross asked, his tone quiet and matter-of-fact.
Archer looked up briefly, surprised, then an avid look crossed his face at the possibility of relief—of talking about what haunted him without the initial shocking confession first.
“I came to Hamilton Falls fresh out of medical school. Pediatrics. They didn’t have a specialist here, only a GP, so my practice grew pretty quickly. Madeleine was about ten then. She was such a delightful child. When she got too old to need a pediatrician I still saw her sometimes, when Elizabeth would bring Julia in for poison ivy, a sprained ankle. You should have seen her. At eighteen she was the loveliest thing you ever saw.” He shot Ross a sudden guilty look, as if he’d remembered to whom he was talking.
Ross unrolled the pastry and tore it into sticky pieces. “A man in his thirties. A young woman. It happens.” Ross could give him understanding. If he wanted penance, he’d have to go talk to Melchizedek.
“I’d get up in the middle of the night and pray for forgiveness. My thoughts were base, carnal. Unworthy of her. I loved her, even then. Sometimes she’d come and talk to me about nursing, get my opinion on what I thought of it. I’d tell her it’s a suitable career for a woman. I treasured every single moment, hoping…” He paused. “It was I who encouraged her to start, though some of the more traditional folks here objected. When she met Owen…” He paused again. The memory was painful. “Stupid. I should have known she wouldn’t settle for someone so old. So limited in his prospects. I couldn’t offer her what Owen has.”
“So you offered her what you could. You looked after her kids.”
Grounds to Believe Page 14