Through the Fire

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Through the Fire Page 12

by Diane Noble


  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “At the beginning,” she said gently. “Tell me everything. I’ve asked the deputy to join us with a tape recorder. Is that all right with you?”

  He nodded.

  Two hours later, the deed was done. Skip Spencer performed admirably, for the most part keeping silent, and once in a while asking questions for clarification. Mostly, Jed just talked into the mike. He told about the past, his sorrow over the deaths of his wife and daughter, the misplaced guilt when he ran into the church and faced the flames.

  Skip turned off the recorder and, shoulders back, headed back down the hall. He was whistling a Disney tune, appropriately, “Whistle While You Work.” Kate prayed the young man wouldn’t somehow inadvertently erase the tape.

  Then she looked back to Jed, whose face was gray with fatigue. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m tired. Bone tired. But in some strange way, the darkness that’s usually in my head isn’t there. I can’t say I’m out of the woods. I’ve got a long way to go”—his smile was faint—“but the guilt that’s been hanging around my neck for so long doesn’t feel like the Rock of Gibraltar anymore.”

  “The way God works within us—to change our hearts, to heal our grief and sorrows, to strengthen us—isn’t a one-time event,” Kate said. “Nearly always, at least for me, it’s a process.”

  “A journey,” he said. “I sort of figured that. And I’ve got a long way to go.”

  “But you’ve taken some important first steps.”

  They talked for a few minutes about the next steps in the legal process and what he might expect.

  “My husband and I are here for you,” she said before turning to leave. “Call us anytime.”

  “There’s something else,” Jed said, frowning. “It may be nothing. But the morning of the fire? I thought I saw someone leaving the church. It wasn’t anyone I recognized. Just a figure.”

  Kate’s breath had caught in her throat. She stepped closer to the iron bars. “Male or female?”

  He shook his head. “Male, I think. But I couldn’t be certain. It didn’t come to me until I was going over the events just now with the deputy. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to make sure I really saw something. After changing my story once...” His voice drifted off, and he shrugged. “The only image that’s clear is that the person was wearing a hat.”

  “A hat? What kind? Can you describe it?”

  “It was a baseball cap. Dark, maybe black. It had a white logo on the front.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry. That’s about it.”

  “Do you think you might recognize the logo if I brought some samples in?”

  “I didn’t get close enough to it. I only know it was dark with a whitish logo.” He frowned. “There was something else about it, though. The iridescent white seemed to have eyes, like it was an animal of some sort.”

  “What kind of animal?”

  “I don’t know. And maybe it was just my imagination. I flipped out around that time.”

  “Do you think the person saw you?”

  “No. I’m almost certain I was hidden from view.”

  “You should have said something about this to the deputy.”

  He shook his head. “He would’ve thought I was making it up...trying to pin the arson on someone else.”

  “Is there anything else you remember? Facial features...length of hair, clothing, coat?”

  He shook his head. “Just the baseball cap. Sorry.”

  RENEE AND KISSES DROVE UP in the Oldsmobile at the same time Kate headed the Honda into the garage. She gritted her teeth, preparing for the word Grandma, as Renee and Kisses exited their car, but it didn’t come. As requested, Renee had dressed the Chihuahua in a bright pink sweater and brought along a matching umbrella in the event the misty drizzle turned to rain. A tiny satin bow was Scotch-taped to the top of the little dog’s head.

  Within a few minutes, Renee had fluttered her fingers, blew a kiss to “sweet umpkins” and slid back into the Oldsmobile.

  “Well, now,” Kate said to the dog, who looked up at her with that familiar doleful expression. “I guess you and Grandma are about to make a day of it.” She followed Kisses to the maple tree and held the umbrella in place, taking greater care to keep sweet umpkins dry than to keep her own hair from frizzing.

  When Kisses finished his doggy business she led him into the house, checked the answering machine, then grabbed her raincoat. Five minutes later they were on their way to the library, Kisses on Kate’s lap, nose pressed to the window.

  The drizzle was turning into a serious rain, so Kate tucked Kisses underneath her raincoat, then headed into the library. “You’ve probably got rules about this sort of thing,” she said to Livvy and opened her coat enough to reveal the Chihuahua’s pointed nose, dark marble-sized eyes, and floppy ears.

  “Ah, babysitting, I see.”

  Kate sighed. “I don’t know how it happened, but I’m suddenly little umpkin’s grandma. It’s becoming a regular thing. Renee seems always to have some appointment or another.” She bit her tongue to keep from adding that the appointments were probably for taking care of her roots and getting a massage, facial, manicure, or pedicure.

  Livvy shook her head in sympathy. “Most people tell her no. You’re kind to agree to it.” She scratched Kisses on the head. “Actually, on a day like today, you can just keep him tucked in your coat. If you were babysitting a Saint Bernard, it would be a different story.”

  They headed upstairs to the computers. While Livvy pulled up the information on Charles BrandsmythIII, Kate checked her e-mail.

  She had two messages. The first was from Sybil Hudson. She clicked open the body of the letter.

  Dear Mrs. Hanlon,

  I will be happy to talk with you about my former employer, Worldwide Destination Resorts. Unfortunately, a dear friend and my former boss died just three days ago, and I must fly to California for the funeral. If you will be so kind as to send me your telephone number, I will call when I return. Electronic correspondence is not a secure way to communicate, and I must warn you, if you are investigating WDR, your life may be in danger. Watch every move you make.

  Sincerely,

  Sybil Hudson

  Kate printed out the letter and handed it to Livvy. “Do you think she knows what she’s talking about?”

  Livvy shook her head slowly. “It sounds like she’s either a disgruntled employee trying to get even for real or imagined wrongs, or she’s the real deal and this company is bad news.”

  “Everything we’ve seen so far points to some sort of a bully mentality, and there are hints of unethical practices. But no charges have been made, no arrests.” Kate sat back staring at the screen.

  “There’s the CEO’s death in California.”

  “Why would they want to get rid of him? He wasn’t an enemy.”

  Livvy shrugged. “Maybe he knew too much. Plus, his administrative assistant called him her dear friend. If they were close, he may have been about to tell all. Somebody found out and did him in.”

  “That’s true,” Kate said. “The big question is if they’re involved in anything underhanded here. You heard about the vandalism last night?”

  “Yeah. Eli called Danny. I heard this morning that they found the bulldozer. Someone drove it off a cliff above the creek. It didn’t go in the water, so the sheriff will be able to dust it for prints.”

  “Eli felt terrible about it. He’s taking all this so personally.”

  “We all are.”

  Kate started to open the second e-mail, but Livvy said, “Here’s the latest from the L.A. Times about the accident investigation.”

  Kate adjusted her reading glasses, leaned toward Livvy’s screen, and began to read. In her lap, Kisses had started to snore.

  “Don’t tell me that noise is coming from that tiny Chihuahua nose,” Livvy said.

  Kate smiled. “It can get worse.”

  The Times article didn’t report anything
new about the investigation, but an eyewitness had come forward to say he saw a logging truck tailgating the CEO’s Hummer minutes before it went over the side of the cliff.

  “Jury’s still out on this one,” Livvy said, shutting down her computer.

  Kate started to do the same, then remembered she hadn’t read the second e-mail. She moved the mouse to click it open.

  She sat there in stunned silence.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Kate pointed to the screen.

  Livvy frowned, then leaned over Kate’s shoulder to read the e-mail. “There’s no return address. Or name. Or anything.” When Kate didn’t say anything, she frowned. “Are you okay?”

  Kate licked her lips and finally said, “Who would send a death threat to a minister’s wife?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kate was sitting by the fireplace in her bathrobe reading when Paul got back from Chattanooga.

  “How was your visit?” she called to him as he hung up his raincoat.

  He poked his head around the corner on his way to the kitchen. “A day with Nehemiah was just the tonic I needed.” Then he came back to sit beside her in front of the fire. He looked more relaxed than when he left.

  “He sent me home with something for you. He fixed chili, his special, one-of-a-kind pumpkin chili.”

  “Seventy-nine years old, and he cooks a pot of chili while you’re visiting?”

  Paul grinned. “And with flair. You should have seen him. He whirled around that little kitchenette like it was Emeril Lagasse’s personal workspace. He’d invited me to have dinner with him in the Orchard Hill dining room, but after I told him about the pumpkin festival, he couldn’t wait to pull out his special recipe and show it off. He thought maybe we could use it at the festival. He sent the recipe home with me.”

  She reached for Paul’s hand. “Tell me what Nehemiah said about our troubles here.”

  He squeezed her fingers and seemed to be studying her expression. “Before I get started, tell me about your day. Is everything okay? How was choir practice?”

  She thought about it for a minute but didn’t know where to start, so she said, “I think we need Nehemiah’s wisdom as a foundation before we launch into my day.”

  “Was it the meeting with Jed? He changed his mind about talking?”

  “Actually, that was one of the high points of my day.” She smiled so he wouldn’t worry. “First, tell me about Nehemiah.”

  “I had no more than walked in the door when he opened his Bible to Second Corinthians and read chapter four. He seemed so excited, he could hardly sit still. This morning, when he was praying for us—all of us...Faith Briar, you and me—he thought about the passage. He says it’s a promise to cling to during these difficult days.”

  Paul got up and retrieved The Message from the lamp table by Kate’s rocker. He thumbed to the New Testament, found the passage in Second Corinthians and began to read aloud:

  We’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.

  “He agrees with us about rebuilding on the present site, no matter the cost. But he also cautioned me to remember that the church isn’t a building. It’s the people, God’s people, who make up his church.”

  Paul stood up to stoke the fire. Sparks flew upward, crackled, and sizzled. After he sat down again, he said, “When I told him about the latest—last night’s vandalism—he told me something that I hope I never forget.” He paused, still watching the fire. “He said that without life’s challenges, we won’t see God’s grace at work. We won’t see the unfolding of miracles. Or God’s transforming power.”

  He turned back to Kate. “I don’t know about you, but I needed that reminder right now.”

  She took a deep breath. “Amen to that.”

  “Now for your day.”

  “I’ll start with choir practice at Renee’s—I actually had a lovely time. Renee served dessert—apparently cakes and pies are her specialty. The evening turned out to be a nice break from the rest of my day. I’m ashamed I grumbled so much about having to go.”

  Paul raised a brow. “And about the rest of your day... ?”

  Kate filled him in on the details about her meeting with Jed and his decision to tell the truth, the deposition he gave to the sheriff’s deputy, and the flicker of hope she saw in his eyes.

  “After that, I babysat Kisses, which wasn’t so bad, but I cringe every time Renee calls me Kisses’ grandma.”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “And you said it went downhill from there? That’s bad enough.”

  She leaned forward and took his hand again. “I had a death threat.”

  “What?” Paul was on his feet before the word had left his mouth. “A what?”

  “A death threat. Someone threatened my life in an e-mail.”

  “Who was it—or do you know? Was there a return address, a name, anything?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. After I got home, I called the sheriff. He couldn’t come, but he sent Skip over to talk to me, get a copy of the e-mail for their records.”

  “Does he know anything about Internet security, how something like this might be traced?”

  “He’s pretty computer literate, from what I could tell, but he couldn’t figure it out either. They’re sending someone over to the library tomorrow to check the computer program I was using. That may give them some clues.”

  She went into the kitchen for the e-mail and brought it back to Paul. It took him less than ten seconds to read the three sentences:

  Mrs. Hanlon, I know who you are and where you live. Keep your nose out of things that are none of your business or you will be sorry. Your life is in danger.

  Paul frowned, reread the note, then looked up at Kate. His eyes were sad. “This is serious. Kate, please promise me you’ll stop this investigation. It isn’t worth it.”

  “I know it’s serious, Paul, but I’m not going to stop looking into the church fire.” She laughed lightly. “In fact, it just makes me all the more determined to find out who did it and why.”

  He sighed. “I know I can’t tell you what to do, Katie, but please be careful. Will you at least promise me that?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Do you have any more leads?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “All signs point to WDR.” She told him about the e-mail from Sybil Hudson. “They play dirty from everything I’ve read. This note might be just a sampling from their bag of tricks.”

  “I worry about you, Katie. The quicker I can find out who’s behind the fire, the safer we’ll all be.” She gave him a soft smile. “But I promise to pay close attention to where I go, when, and all that. Do the buddy-system thing.”

  Paul sighed. “I know you. Once you get it in your head that something needs doing, you throw caution to the wind. That’s why I worry.”

  PAUL SNORED LIGHTLY beside her, but Kate couldn’t sleep. She flipped her pillow over three times, adjusted her position, thought about counting the flock of sheep on the sliding-glass door, worried over her arthritic knee, then flipped her pillow again. Her mind whirled with thoughts of the fire, WDR, the stolen lumber, Jed, the pumpkin festival, rebuilding worries, then back to the fire again.

  The clock in the entry hall chimed one o’clock, then two. Sometime before three, she finally drifted off.

  Then, suddenly, she woke with a start and sat up in bed. It was as if a flash of lightning had struck her. Her mind raced along almost faster than she could keep up with it.

  The baseball cap! She had seen something like it before! But where? When?

  She pictured it as Jed must have seen it. Dark background. Some sort of iridescent logo above the bill. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  She fell asleep again, and when she woke at five thirty, she wondered if she really had seen the cap before, or if it had just been a dream.

  Chapter F
ifteen

  Kate spent all day Friday washing and ironing table linens, polishing silver, and shopping for exotic teas and whole-bean coffees. She pulled out her recipe book and settled on her favorite finger sandwiches—tiny cream puffs filled with a variety of chicken, egg, and crab salads. She also decided on a mixed green salad with toasted pine nuts, dried cranberries, feta cheese, and a dressing of balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil, with a hint of crushed garlic and fresh ground pepper.

  Paul and Danny borrowed folding tables from the Presbyterian church and set them up in the living room. Later that evening LuAnne and Livvy stopped by to help set the tables with Kate’s ivory tablecloths and matching napkins, her grandmother’s antique china—supplemented with an inexpensive silver-rimmed set—and centerpieces of chrysanthemums and fall foliage.

  Kate pulled out her teapot collection, remembering the friend or family member who gave each one to her, and placed them on the tables. There were elegant pots, tall and stately; cute little squatty pots; some with whimsical artwork; and even one that was designed to look like it was upside down. Kate loved them all, mostly because they reminded her of the one who gave it to her. She especially adored her mother’s silver teapot, given to her mother and father on their silver anniversary.

  When the decorating was complete, she stood back to survey the room. Even with the dark paneling, oversized fireplace, and the flock of milky sheep on the slider, the room was beautiful. Who would have thought she would someday have her own tearoom? It was another of God’s little unexpected blessings. She smiled at the whimsical thought.

  SATURDAY MORNING dawned bright and beautiful. At 7:30, Paul gave her a quick kiss and left to go fishing with Eli and Sam.

  At precisely 9:58, everything was ready. By 10:23, Livvy and LuAnne had arrived to help, and by 10:39, the doorbell started ringing.

  Faith Briar ladies of all ages, shapes, and sizes poured through the front door wearing their tea-party best, some with hats and gloves. Renee made her usual splashy entrance with Kisses in her arms. She wore a wide-brimmed hat with a froth of pink silk roses that matched her Laura Ashley rose-print dress, white gloves, and strappy heels. She fluttered her fingers, took over conversations, and made her rounds as if in charge of the tea.

 

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