The Lies We Believe: A Christian Suspense Novel

by T. K. Chapin

  She laughed and glanced over at the freezer door. "Popular girl, isn't she?"

  Taking a step toward Maria, I looked into her dark and emotionless eyes. "Where is she?"

  "She’s dead, Ron. She’s been in the Lighthouse morgue for a month now."

  My heart grew faint, and the tears that were threatening to fall broke free.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  STANDING AT MY FATHER'S GRAVE, I bent over and set a bouquet of flowers on his, and Emily set flowers on Mom's. I took a step back and clasped my hand with Teresa’s.

  We all walked up three rows and over to Catlynn's gravestone. We were able to get the remains from Lighthouse with the permission of the proper authorities and give her a proper funeral. That was three weeks ago now.

  Teresa took a step and set the flowers down on her daughter's grave. My eyes watered. Resting a hand against Catlynn’s name etched in the stone, she said, "Even though I never got to know you, I know you had to struggle, like we all do at some point in our lives. From what Emily says, you had a beautiful soul. It brings me great joy to know you found God through your friendship with her. I pray that you died peacefully when you passed on."

  She stood and joined my side again. I wrapped my arms around both Teresa and Emily, and we all three walked over to the car.

  Teresa escaped prison time and was let off since she didn’t know about the inner workings of Lighthouse and helped deliver the leader and several other high leaders in the cult. It was a hard choice to stay with her, but I ultimately found myself still too in love and soft toward her to just walk away. Our life wasn’t perfect by any means, nor was it easy, but with God’s help, something ugly was becoming beautiful.

  Saying our goodbyes, we headed back to my house.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  ON THE DRIVE TO THE house, I made eye contact with Emily in the rearview mirror.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  Raising her eyebrows, she looked intrigued. “Oh, yeah?”

  She pressed for hints and prodded me for clues all the way from the Valley back out to Mead, but I kept my lips quiet.

  “Finally,” she said with a smile in her voice as we pulled into the driveway at my house.

  I turned the car off and said, “Wait. You remember that old truck I was working on when you were working at the law firm?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I said I wanted it, but you went off and sold it when I was at Lighthouse. The guy’s name was Chip or something, I think.”

  Tossing my head to the side, I motioned for her to get out, and I did the same, along with Teresa.

  “I’m going to go get started on dinner,” Teresa said, coming in close to me. We kissed, and she went off to the porch and inside while Emily and I walked up the driveway. We made it to the garage and she helped push open the door.

  When the setting sun’s light hit the truck, she let out a gleeful scream.

  “Dad!” she shouted, running up to the truck. She fell across the hood, hugging it. “How? I thought you sold it.”

  “I did, but Chip and I have stayed in touch a little since he bought it, and he offered to sell it back to me. He said it didn’t have the feeling it once did and wasn’t doing any good sitting in his garage.”

  She turned around and wiped her eyes as she smiled. “You didn’t have to go and buy me a truck, Dad.”

  “I know. I wanted to.”

  “After all I put you through . . .”

  Motioning her over with a hand, I brought her in close and hugged her tightly. Kissing the side of her head, I said, “It doesn’t matter how many times you mess up. I’ll always be here for you, Ems. Always.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  A car pulled into the driveway, pulling our attention away from the cars in the garage. We turned around and saw it was Mikey in his Camaro.

  I smiled.

  Emily dashed out to greet him and I shut the garage. Remembering I had gotten him a gift from the auto parts store, I went over to my shop next to the garage.

  Walking in, I flipped on the light switch and took a deep breath as I walked over to my workbench. A picture of detective Jackson, my friend Charles, sweet Catlynn, and even my little cat, Milo, now hung next to the picture of me and my dad on the wall. Though I was glad that Henry and Maria were both locked up for the rest of their lives, it was still hard some days to believe everything that had happened.

  Opening the drawer, I grabbed the Camaro leather keychain for Mikey.

  Looking over, I saw Emily and Mikey standing in the doorway.

  "I got this for you," I said, making eye contact with Mikey. He came over and I handed it to him.

  "Thanks, Ron."

  “Dad?" Emily said, walking up to us.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mikey wants to take me for a drive over to Chattaroy. His grandparents own a bunch of land over there, and he wants to show it to me.”

  Mikey piped in. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, in time for dessert.”

  “Okay. Be sure it is indeed a couple of hours. We’re due at the airport at seven tomorrow morning. Don’t forget.”

  “I know,” Emily replied confidently with a nod.

  “It’s neat that you all are going down to Texas to meet Catlynn’s family,” Mikey added.

  I nodded. “It’s the right thing to do after all that had happened. I think it’ll be good for Teresa too. Anyway, drive safe with my girl in your car.” I pointed at Mikey with a smile on my face. He was almost part of the family now, and he and Emily seemed to be getting close. I knew I could trust him with my not-so-little girl.

  “You know I will, Ron.” He smiled and took Emily by the hand.

  They took off in his Camaro, and I went inside to join Teresa in the kitchen. Placing my hand on her lower back, I leaned in and kissed her cheek and then went and sat on a stool up at the counter. I grabbed the newspaper off the counter and began reading. I came to a story about the latest person who had been arrested in connection with the Lighthouse investigation. I snickered a little, and Teresa looked over from the pan of meat she was browning on the stove.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  Lowering my newspaper, I looked at her and smiled. “Just another arrest in connection with Lighthouse. This guy was a family man and worked as a pastor at a church here in town.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “I know. All of those people who trusted him, and he was leading them astray. You know, it’s not the lies we don’t believe that are dangerous. It’s the lies we believe.”

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  Amongst the Flames (Click/Tap here to view on Amazon)

  Prologue

  Fire. Four letters, two vowels and one reaction. That reaction depends on who you are. For me and the fellas at Station 9 in downtown Spokane, our reaction is one of quickness, speed and precision. A few seconds’ delay could mean someone’s life. We don’t have time to think, only do. And we don’t do this for the recognition or because it’s just some job, we do it because this is what we were born to do.

  My resume, if I had one, would only say one thing on it: Firefighter. I’m one of those guys that you don’t really think about unless something has gone terribly wrong. Usually it’s when your house is on fire.

  I won’t bore you with the countless calls where we just show up with our lights on and we’re just there to support the police and ambulance. I’m sure you’ve seen us sitting across the street quietly once or twice while they wheel Mrs. Johnson out on a gurney to the ambulance at three o’clock in the morning. I also won’t explain to you the hundred calls a year we get on burning popcorn in a kitchen. No. This story I’m going to share with you is not only about the worst fire I had ever seen in my life, but it’ll also encompass how important God is, not only in marriage, but in life.

  This is not a story you’ll find on the front page of your local newspaper while you’re sipping your morning cup of coffee. You also won’t catch it on the ten o’clock n
ews. Nope. Instead, it’s a story that will inspire you to look at life differently and challenge you to believe that with God even the worst fire you face is nothing in comparison with His power, grace and mercy.

  Belief in God is not really an option for me when I run into burning buildings to save lives. It’s a core fundamental building block of who I am. I won’t sit here and tell you that I’m a perfect Christian though; that would be a lie. Soon enough, you’ll read about my plethora of issues and flaws amongst the pages that follow. What I will do is stay true to the truth the best that I can. I’m not telling this story to make a record of my sins or those of others. I’m giving you this story to give you hope. Hope of a brighter tomorrow that you can look forward to, hope of a world where acceptance isn’t only preached, but it’s applied alongside the scriptures to our lives.

  I am Cole Taylor and this is my story.

  CHAPTER 1

  Walking down an aisle in the grocery store with Kane, Micah and Greg one morning at about eight o’clock I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I caught Kane checking out a pretty brunette a few aisles over in the bakery.

  “Always on the prowl, aren’t ya?” I asked, smiling over at him. Kane was the station’s notorious single twenty-three-year-old male with nothing but women on his mind. He once admitted to me that he bought a full set of turnouts online from an ex-fireman just so he could suit up in a full fireman outfit for a girl.

  “She’s cute,” Kane replied with a half-grin on his face. He shot another look over at her and his smile grew.

  “Maybe she can bake you a cake or something?” Greg said with a soft but sarcastic tone as he grabbed a box of pasta from the shelf. Greg was one of the quieter guys on the crew.

  Micah and I erupted in laughter. Kane smiled and said, “I’m sure there’s more to her than that.”

  “How would you even know that?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s a hunch, I know about these things.”

  “Well, at least you know she has a sweet side,” Micah added. Kane laughed a little as he pushed the cart down towards the end of the aisle.

  On the way over to the meat section of the store, a man with furrowed eyebrows made a beeline for us. Leaning into Kane’s ear, I said, “Move the cart out of his way.” Kane did, but it didn’t help. The elderly gentleman shifted his footing to line up with our cart as he continued towards us.

  Arriving at us, the man latched his worn hands to each side of our cart and demanded in a sharp tone, “What are you doing here?”

  “Same as most people here, just grocery shopping… you?” Kane asked, crossing his arms as he released his grip from the cart.

  “Are you on the clock right now?” the man asked. He shot a quick look at each of us individually as if we were caught in some kind of predicament.

  “Yeah,” I replied, stepping in front of Kane and up to the gentleman. I knew I needed to get between them before Kane did something stupid. His fuse was short when it came to people who didn’t respect firefighters. For instance, there was a call one time that Kane and I were on where the man whose house was on fire started complaining to us about how long it took us to respond. Kane took his revenge inside the home when he used the butt of his axe to smash the guy’s big screen TV.

  “Is there a problem going on in the store we should know about?” Micah asked, looking over my shoulder at the man. Micah was my best friend at the station and he was always looking for the best in people no matter what the situation appeared to be.

  “Yeah, matter of fact there is a problem ya chump! And I’m looking right at it,” he shouted, raising his hands from the cart. I looked back at Kane as I knew the comment would set him off. Catching his gaze before he said anything, I could see Kane trying to keep his mouth shut. That little stunt he pulled at that fire by smashing the guy’s TV landed him with a suspension without pay.

  Micah raised his hands. “We’re just trying to get to some supplies, Sir.”

  “Yeah– he’s right. We don’t want any trouble, Sir. We need to keep moving.” I grabbed onto the cart and began walking past the disgruntled citizen.

  “This is how my tax dollars is spent, huh?” He asked as he laughed sarcastically, shaking his head at us. “I’m filing a complaint with your station!” he said from behind us. He must have been looking at the back of our fleece pullovers as he continued, “Station 9… Who’s in charge over there?”

  “Thomas Sherwood and Sean Hinley are our Captains and Paul Jensen’s the Chief,” I said over my shoulder to him.

  “I’ll be calling them right away!” he shouted.

  We all four managed to keep our cool and made it over to the meats. As we came up to the bunker with steaks and stopped, Kane said, “We risk our lives, yet people still find a reason to complain… What is with that?” He glanced back at the angry man as he now appeared to be arguing with a grocery store worker.

  I turned to Kane. “Do you do this job because you want people to think you’re a hero?”

  “No…” he replied softly. “But that kind of thing just isn’t right.”

  “No, it’s not right,” I agreed. “But we don’t do this to impress people, Kane. You know that. We do this job because it’s our duty and we do it to protect the people of Spokane. We serve them, no matter how poorly we get treated.”

  “Cole’s right, man,” Micah said with a nod. “We can’t let people like him get in our head.”

  “We can’t let them undermine our reasons for doing this,” Greg added.

  “I find honor in what we do and someone like that just bugs me.”

  “I know it does,” I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And thank you for not saying anything to him.” I turned back to the steaks. “What cut do we want boys?” I asked.

  Suddenly dispatch came over all our radios for a fire at the Canyon Creek Apartments on South Westcliff. We all four began sprinting for the front doors. My heart began pounding as adrenaline coursed through every one of my veins. Weaving between the aisles and shopping carts, we made our way outside. Spotting a cart boy on the way through the parking lot, I stopped and told him about our cart in the back of the store. He thanked me and I headed over to the truck.

  Micah jumped into the driver seat. He was the ladder company’s engineer and that meant the man behind the wheel. Greg sat up front with Micah; his role varied and depended much on what was needed on each call. Kane and I were the guys who did search and rescue, cut power and helped with ventilation cuts on the roof.

  As Kane and I suited up in the back, Kane asked, “Did you see that chick in the bakery look concerned as we dashed out of there?”

  I laughed. “No, didn’t catch that,” I said, pulling up my suspenders across the front of my chest.

  “When we go back later I’m going to go talk to her. Bet I can get those digits,” he replied as he slid his Nomax head and neck protector over his eyes. “I’ll for sure get her number.”

  “She could be married,” I replied.

  “Nah, I saw her left hand when she was putting out donuts in the window earlier.”

  I laughed. “Wait… what ever happened to that Heidi girl? I almost completely forgot about her.”

  “He got bored of her,” Micah said over his shoulder to us. “He can’t seem to stay interested in one gal; you know that.”

  “Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the road?” Kane retorted.

  “Really though, man, what happened?” I asked, looking over at Kane.

  “Just didn’t work out,” Kane said as he shrugged.

  We slowed down as we arrived at the scene. Glancing out my window, I could see the fire had already engulfed much of the apartment complex and I felt another surge of adrenaline. I was excited and yet terrified out of my mind of the unknown that lay before me. It was that way every time we got a call.

  Glancing at the other fire truck on scene, I saw Thomas Sherwood, the shift captain of station 9 and my father-in-law. He was already on scene along with
the other guys who rode over on the engine truck. They were already about done hooking up the hose to the hydrant as we came to a complete stop. Leaping from my seat, my feet barely hit the pavement before the captain reached me.

  “We need a grab on the second floor,” he shouted. “There’s a four-year-old girl in apartment one-forty-two.” My heart felt like it skipped a beat as I looked up at the roaring flames. Saving lives wasn’t anything new for me, but I never could get used to it. Even after ten years of service, every time lives were at stake, it was difficult, especially when the lives of children were involved.

  “Got it,” I replied as I grabbed my oxygen tank from the side of the truck and secured it onto my back. Grabbing my axe and Halligan bar, I turned as I pulled my mask over my face and put on my helmet. A hand on my shoulder stopped me from heading directly to the building.

  “And, Cole,” the captain said as I turned around.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Be careful in there, I don’t have the energy to explain to my daughter how her husband died today.”

  “No worries, you haven’t had to yet,” I replied. Turning, I looked at the apartment entrance and saw the black smoke billowing out the front door. I jogged up to the door and as I entered, I saw Rick, starting the exterior attack on the fire from outside with his hose in hand. He was spraying down the nearby building so it would not catch on fire. I gave him a nod. Rick Alderman was one of the veterans on the crew. It was he, Micah and I for the past ten years at fire station 9. Kane came on a couple years after me and the others all were fairly new, each under five years. The older vets from the old days when I first started —like Hillman and Conrad— moved away and transferred to other stations. But no matter who came or went, when we were on the scene we were like that of a brotherhood. No man left behind, ever.

  Coming inside the burning building, I immediately noticed the extreme temperatures inside. It wasn’t typical, a bit warmer than I was used to. I pushed the sensation of being trapped in a furnace out of my mind as I ventured in further. I trekked through the black smoke and up the stairs in search for the child. My jacket was failing to keep the high temperatures of the heat from my skin and the burning was digging in. Ignoring common-sense reactions to extreme situations is a requirement that they don’t advertise in the job description. Who in his right mind after all would run into a burning building, on purpose?