Shades of Truth

by Sandra Orchard

  An uncomfortable twinge fingered the pit of Ethan’s stomach.

  “We spend years wallowing in our circumstances, making excuses about why we can’t overcome them, instead of drawing on God’s power to fight our way out of the wilderness and reach for the Promised Land.” Pastor John’s gaze fell on Ethan.

  A sour taste welled in his throat. He slid his gaze in Kim’s direction.

  Her head tilted and she lifted an eyebrow.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think she set him up.

  “But there’s some things ain’t no way we can overcome,” Beanpole argued, and Ethan silently cheered him on.

  “That’s what the Israelite spies thought about the giants living in the Promised Land—the giants they had to fight if they wanted to claim their inheritance. God had performed all kinds of miracles in Egypt. He parted the Red Sea. He fed them manna from heaven. But even after all that, the Israelites didn’t believe God was bigger than those giants.

  “So they wandered in the wilderness. If that’s where you’re at tonight, my question to you is, how big is your God?”

  Ethan eyed the exit. The group squirmed.

  Mercifully, Pastor John cut his sermon short with a clap. “It looks like the snacks have arrived. You’ve been a great group. Thanks for having us.” He pointed to the back wall. “What do you say we eat?”

  Shouts of agreement went up and the staff steered the residents in a semiorderly fashion past the table of baked goods Mrs. Corbett had generously provided.

  Ethan hung back. His revelations to Kim had dug up too many regrets and thrown him off his game. He needed to regroup and focus on the job.

  Kim stepped beside him, shoulder to shoulder, her gaze on the residents they were there to supervise. “Powerful message.”

  “I believe in God,” he said, knowing exactly what she was up to, although he couldn’t believe she’d still bother with him after everything he’d told her.

  “I know you do, Ethan. But you’re living in the wilderness.”

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say. It’s a jungle out there.” He crossed his arms over the fresh ache starting to build in his chest.

  The pastor walked over to them, and Kim thanked him for coming. As the man moved on, greeting others, Kim shifted her gaze back to the residents around the dessert table. “Why can’t you see that by clinging to your remorse, you’re strangling the joy God wants you to have?”

  “I really don’t want to have this conversation.”

  To the rest of the room, they might’ve appeared as though they were discussing the residents, which made the relative privacy a perfect opportunity to find out if she’d learned anything helpful last night. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you last night how your talk with the youth group went.”

  “Remember what you said about Curt?”

  “Which time?” Ethan asked, relieved that she’d dropped the other subject so easily.

  “You told him that unless he saw the truth about the situation with his parents, instead of his guilt-skewed version of what happened, he’d never move on.”

  Irritation burned in Ethan’s chest. “You’re talking about me?”

  She shrugged. “Just thinking out loud.”

  “I was street racing while smoking a joint,” Ethan hissed through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing guilt-skewed about it.”

  He welcomed the rush of anger, concentrating on it to get through the remorse that rushed in behind it. He turned to Kim. “What part of I don’t want to have this conversation didn’t you understand? You want to psychoanalyze somebody, try a resident. I have work to do.”

  FOURTEEN

  Kim escorted the church group to their van, then wavered, uncertain whether she should hang around until the end of Ethan’s shift. She hated to leave things the way they were. She’d wanted to help him, not alienate him.

  Then again, maybe she needed to give Pastor John’s message time to work on his heart.

  Yeah, that was probably the way to go. Kim pulled out her keys and headed for her car at the far end of the parking lot. The starless night immediately draped her in darkness. She looked up and saw that two of the light standards had blown bulbs. Strange.

  She quickened her pace, making a mental note to notify maintenance in the morning.

  In the distance coyotes yipped.

  She clicked her remote to unlock the car door, and automatically scanned the interior before slipping inside.

  The coyotes’ frenzied yips grew closer. A rabbit screeched, then silence.

  Kim yanked the door closed and hit the lock. The coyotes that roamed the fields and woodlands surrounding the detention center posed little danger, but that didn’t stop her stomach from tightening at the thought of the poor rabbit’s fate.

  Shaking the image from her mind, Kim started the car and pulled forward.

  Thunk!

  She braked, but as she shifted into Park so she could step out and take a look, a shadow crossed her rearview mirror.

  Her heart jumped. She rammed the car back into Drive and floored the gas pedal.

  The steering wheel fought her hold, but she managed to work the car to a noisy stop near the staff entrance. There, spotlights on the building pushed back the blackness.

  Twisting in her seat, she squinted into the bushes near where she’d been parked.

  Everything was still.

  She let out a self-deprecating snort. What was she afraid of? The kid who’d been targeting her was behind bars. And with the cops on to his gang, none of his buddies were likely to try anything. At least, that’s what Ethan had said—if not that convincingly.

  She climbed out of the car. Her rear tire on the passenger side was flat.

  The tension in her stomach eased. Just a flat.

  Ethan had her so keyed up, she was seeing bogeymen everywhere. She popped her trunk and grabbed the lug wrench and jack. She fitted the wrench onto the first lug nut and heaved, but the nut wouldn’t budge. She stood and bore all her weight onto it. Nothing.

  She could call the auto club, but…asking Ethan to help her would be a perfect excuse to talk to him again, tonight. She glanced at her watch. Nine-thirty.

  All but a few of the honor-level residents would be locked in their bedrooms by now. Ethan would be off in another half hour or so. She locked the car and headed back inside.

  By the time she reached unit three, Curt was the only resident still up. He and Ethan sat on the couch in the common area chitchatting. If not for the locked doors and bars on the windows, they’d look like two friends shooting the breeze.

  Not wanting to interrupt, Kim took a seat in the staff station to catch up on paperwork. Every once in a while, she glanced at the pair, but because the TV was on she couldn’t hear what they said, although the conversation seemed to be getting pretty intense.

  “What’s she doing here?” Curt’s voice boomed over the drone of the TV.

  Kim looked up at the same time that Ethan swung his attention to the staff station. His eyes met hers and his surprise morphed into a scowl.

  “Oh, man, I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’,” Curt said. “Nothin’.”

  Kim tensed. What was that about?

  Leon, the college student scheduled to work through the night in the unit, came out of the laundry room, where he’d probably been pulling a resident’s laundry from the dryer.

  Ethan said something to him, and Leon escorted the boy to his locker.

  Eyes blazing, Ethan stormed into the staff station. “What are you doing here?”

  Kim’s jaw dropped, and her explanation detoured on the way from her brain to her mouth. She hitched her thumb in the direction of the door. “I… My tire’s flat. I thought…” She picked
up her purse. “Never mind. I’ll call the auto club.”

  Ethan’s shoulders sagged, and the fire in his eyes snuffed out. “No, I’m sorry. I can change your tire. It’s just that Curt had been on the verge of spilling a name. I’m sure of it. And when he saw you, I guess he got scared.”

  “A name? You mean the inside guy?”

  “Yeah, I was hoping. He said someone had offered him a job when he gets out.”

  Dread balled in Kim’s throat. She hadn’t wanted to believe Ethan’s theory, but if it was true, the sooner the person was routed the better. She forced an encouraging tone to her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be able to win Curt over again. You’re really good with these kids.”

  Ethan shifted, looking uncomfortable with the praise. “I know what they’re feeling.”

  “And that’s not a bad thing, Ethan.”

  His eyes filled with a longing so raw she had to drop her gaze, focus on his bristly cheek, the tiny cleft in his chin. She wished with all her heart that there was some way she could help him break free of the remorse that imprisoned him. “God can use your troubles for good, if you let him.”

  “Don’t start.” Ethan turned away, busied himself with paperwork.

  But she couldn’t stop herself. “Joy helps countless people face heartbreaking situations because she’s used her troubles to let God speak through her.”

  Ethan’s pen stilled, but he didn’t look up. “She’s a remarkable woman.”

  “No more remarkable than you. You identify with these boys in a way most of us can’t. And you were Joy’s inspiration. She told me that helping you gave her purpose.”

  “Kim, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Joy showed me the card you sent her when you graduated from the police academy. Getting that card turned her life around. Did you know that she still carries the card in her purse?”

  Ethan’s gaze lifted. “I didn’t know that.” He looked away, but not before Kim saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes.

  Kim’s heart pounded. Everything in her felt certain that if he were forced to confront his guilty feelings, he could overcome them. She drew in a deep breath and plunged ahead. “The difference between you and Joy is that she brings a heart full of love and joy to everything she does, while you bring your whole heart with sadness and guilt.”

  Ethan’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t meet her eyes. He turned back to the day’s log.

  Kim stifled a sigh of disappointment as Leon entered the staff station.

  “Kim has a tire that needs changing,” Ethan said expressionlessly. “So I thought we’d do the room checks a few minutes early.”

  “No problem.”

  The two men left the staff station, and Kim sank into a chair. Her insides quivered from her daring to confront Ethan like that. She prayed the attempt would make a difference.

  Her thoughts revisited what he’d said about Curt and how peculiar it was that Curt had suddenly gotten defensive. She flipped through the logbook to see which staff had been on this unit in the past couple of weeks. Perhaps she could figure out who else had a tête-à-tête with Curt. The easiest time to chat privately with a resident was after everyone was confined to their rooms for the night. But like tonight, Leon had been on all week. Surely Curt wouldn’t have been about to snitch on Leon when he was standing in the next room.

  Kim scanned the daily records again. Curt had been to the computer lab and the weight room—both fairly private locations, and privileges that should’ve been revoked after he’d socked Melvin. And in both instances, the guard who’d escorted Curt was…

  Darryl.

  Ethan appeared and Kim slapped the book closed. If he noticed the way her heart pounded out of her chest, he didn’t comment. “All set?”

  Not trusting her voice, she nodded and scrunched her purse in her hands to hide the way they shook. Could it really be Darryl?

  No way. Not her own brother.

  But if she suspected him, even for a second, for sure Ethan would suspect him. She needed to prove Darryl’s innocence. Search his room. Check the phone records on his cell. Confront him.

  In the hallway, Ethan said, “You never did tell me about last night’s youth meeting.”

  Relieved that he didn’t ask her about the log, she plunged into a detailed account of the evening. Belatedly, she realized that he’d probably wanted to avoid a repeat of their earlier conversation. She told him about her talk with Dina Moyer, a foster child the youth pastor worried was using, and the way Dina had clammed up when Aaron joined them. “But since I brought Aaron to the meeting, I don’t think she would’ve talked to me at all if she was afraid of him. Her reaction just struck me as unusual because most of the teen girls fawn over him, and because Mel had a similar reaction to him earlier that same afternoon.”

  “When he was acting so nervous?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me exactly what Beanpole said to you.”

  Kim hesitated. She didn’t want to mention her brother’s name.

  Ethan returned his manor keys to the lockbox and retrieved his belongings from his locker. “Kim?”

  “I can’t remember, exactly. He was upset because he didn’t get parole. He said this place is a farce, and I assumed he meant that we don’t practice what we preach. I challenged him on that because I wanted to figure out where his hostility stemmed from. He said I didn’t want to know. He told me that a couple of times.”

  Ethan stopped in the middle of punching the exit code in the door. “Why? What do you think he was talking about?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Did he mention any names?”

  Kim replayed Melvin’s words in her mind. Your brother can’t fix squat. Your brother. “No, no names.”

  Ethan scrutinized her.

  Uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze, she punched in the remaining code and pushed through the door.

  To her relief, he dropped the subject and followed. “I’ll grab a tin of WD-40 from my trunk to spray on your tire bolts.”

  While he went to his car, Kim once again pulled the jack and lug wrench from her trunk. “Lord, please, don’t let Darryl be involved in anything bad.”

  “Pardon?”

  Ethan’s deep voice made Kim jump.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you were talking to me.”

  “Just thinking aloud.” She handed him the wrench and set the jack on the ground.

  Ethan reached inside the trunk and freed the spare from its crypt beneath the mat. “You’ll have to get your tire fixed tomorrow because this one’s just a donut.” He squatted next to the flat and ran his hand over the rubber. “Were you parked here all night?”

  “No, I was parked at the far end, but I couldn’t see to change the tire there.”

  Ethan’s gaze shifted past her and skimmed the darkness. “Why don’t you come around to this side of the car and I’ll show you how to loosen a rusty lug.”

  The last thing she wanted was a mechanic’s lesson. She needed to get home before Darryl so she could search his room. But Ethan seemed to be waiting for her, so she squatted beside him and dutifully listened to his explanation.

  After he changed the tire, he checked the brake lines and under the hood before giving her the green light to climb in. “I’ll follow you home.”

  “That’s okay, thanks. I’m sure I won’t have any more trouble.”

  Unless she counted the trouble waiting for her at home.

  Ethan stared after Kim’s car. He knew he shouldn’t have offered to follow her home, but he hadn’t been able to stop the words from jumping out of his mouth. He’d been too preoccupied with the notion that someone might’ve let the air out of her tire…deliberately.
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br />   He chalked the impulse up to paranoia. Although it occurred to him that she might’ve let out the air herself to furnish an excuse to harangue him some more, he really didn’t think she was cunning enough to have thought of that. But she’d certainly taken advantage of the opportunity.

  Ethan shook his head. He never should’ve snapped at her the way he did. No wonder she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. And as much as he deserved her rebuff, it still hurt.

  Ethan mulled over their conversation. She meant well. And, okay, maybe she had a point. A lot of times he did feel as if he were wandering around in the wilderness like the youth pastor said. But saying he forgave himself wasn’t going to make Joy walk again. No matter how contented Joy pretended to be, deep down Ethan knew he’d stolen her dreams of having a husband and children.

  And if Joy couldn’t have those things, he certainly didn’t deserve them.

  The night swallowed Kim’s taillights and Ethan felt himself sinking, descending to that cold, black place where regrets shrouded every ray of sunlight God sent his way. Where guilt ate at him like cancer, poisoning all his relationships.

  When Joy had offered him forgiveness all those years ago he’d felt utterly unworthy. He’d thought the way to deserve her gift was to become a cop. He remembered his youthful logic. He thought that if he could make the world a safer place, then at least some good would come out of his mistakes. But the next arrest and the next and the next were never enough. The only satisfaction in his career was the grim certainty that he’d served another day of penance.

  He considered Kim’s point that maybe the answer wasn’t in atoning for his actions, but in learning to accept the way things were, learning to be grateful for Joy’s forgiveness, learning to pass it on to others.

  Lord, You know I believe in You. Working with these kids, seeing how lost they are, remembering how lost I once felt, has made me want to share Your love with them. I want them to see that You can change lives, renew people’s hearts. But if Kim’s right, if all people see is my remorse, how can I help them?