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Break the Faith

Page 21

by M. Mabie


  It was a hard pill to swallow.

  “What will you do?” Abe asked.

  “I’m going to go back to the hospital and hold my wife. I’m going to be there for my baby girl and make sure she gets whatever she needs, and I’m going to pray.”

  He pushed his chair back, and I stood to take their plates away. Robbie continued, “And then I’m going to fight back. The Pastor and Matthew need stopped. The Legacies need stopped. I don’t know if I can do it on my own, but I know there are others who feel the same way as we do.”

  28

  Abe

  I felt for the man. When I’d left, I didn’t have a family to look out for. To provide for. I didn’t have a business to think about. Or a sick kid. But if I were in Robbie’s shoes, I think staying and fighting would have been my first thought too.

  Leaving hadn’t been easy, but what he faced would be all-out war.

  Seeing Robbie not his normal, happy-go-lucky self was proof alone that he took it seriously.

  He thanked Myra and me for the meal and graciously accepted the food Myra packed up for Jenny. They had a long road to go with baby Eva, but we’d be there for them when they needed us. Myra even offered to have them over anytime they needed a break from the hospital, even if it was just to get a shower or do some laundry.

  Speaking of laundry, I began folding my dry clothes from the dryer and re-packing them in my duffel bag when my girl came into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. I’d been in town for less than a day and hated that by the same time the next day, I’d be in Nelson and away from her again.

  Both of us had been silent after Robbie drove away. We had a lot on our minds.

  “Everything will be okay,” Myra said, already wearing her pajamas. “You know what we need?”

  I added the last pair of clean jeans to my bag. “What’s that?”

  “We need to sit on the couch, eat ice cream straight from the container, and watch something silly on TV. It’s not going to change anything, and it certainly won’t fix anything, but we need a break. We need to relax and just be for a little while.”

  And, God, she was right.

  I took a quick shower, and by the time I was out, she had two spoons and a pint of chocolate fudge on the coffee table, queuing up National Lampoon’s Vacation.

  “What made you pick this?” I asked, taking a seat beside her.

  “I just Googled funny movies everyone should watch.”

  Her plan worked. It didn’t solve anything, but for ninety minutes or so, none of it mattered. Hearing her laugh and escaping the world was the best medicine.

  Later, when she climbed on top of me in our bed, there was nothing on my mind except her, her body, and how happy this one woman made me.

  “I love you so much, Myra,” I told her as we caught our breaths.

  “I know you do,” she replied. “I can feel it.”

  I HATED LEAVING HER the next morning. We ate breakfast together, but it was quiet. After my things were packed up and loaded into the truck, she kissed me and asked me to be careful. Then she told me to hurry up and go so I could get back home.

  So that was exactly what I would do.

  The mill was chaotic, which was to be expected with the limited hands there. So I fired up the Forklift I was bringing with me and began loading the flatbed. Making the delivery later wouldn’t be much trouble. Even if there wasn’t anyone around when I dropped it off, I could handle it on my own.

  I took my time packing the bed to make it manageable and made the judgement call to not overload. They were already getting lumber earlier than Ted had promised. So I got on the road with at least enough to get them started, if need be.

  The last thing I wanted to do was deliver after dark.

  Pulling away from Fairview, I looked at the directions one last time and drove. It could have been that Myra let me get things off my chest, or that Robbie reminded me other people had far bigger problems, but—whatever the case—my mind was clearer than it had been only a day earlier.

  Mile after mile, instead of dwelling on the issues I didn’t know how to change or deal with, I thought about my future.

  Our future.

  Thoughts of maybe building a new house someday wandered through my head. I envisioned Freedom Furniture taking off and how it could grow bigger than I’d ever hope before, now that my dreams weren’t mine alone. We’d be working together, and only God knew our limits. Although, with Myra by my side, I didn’t feel like we had any.

  Together, we would have everything we wanted.

  Together, we would realize our goals and make even bigger ones.

  Our future was wide open and there for the taking.

  My thoughts drifted to the new store then to things I’d never let my mind wander to before. From traveling and seeing new places for the first time with Myra. To how satisfying it would be when we got married on our terms and she and I starting a family. How she’d be a wonderful mother, and I found myself looking forward to fatherhood one day—when we both agreed the time was right.

  Our home would be happy and safe, and I was certain there wasn’t a single thing Myra and I wouldn’t do to ensure our child or children felt loved and educated and given experiences like we’d never known ourselves.

  As the evening sun painted the sky, I turned up a freshly paved lane about fifteen miles outside of Nelson. It curved and bent and wound up a tree-covered hill. I took my time in the Peterbilt, not seeing any other vehicles or trucks as I ascended.

  At the top, I was met with a gate, and I reminded myself construction sites were often surrounded by fences. To protect equipment and materials. To keep people out of harm’s way when construction was happening.

  What wasn’t typical was the guard house at the entrance or the man inside it staring straight at me.

  A lot had changed about me in the past few months. My attitude. My demeanor. My outlook. But in that cab, instinct took over and my armor returned. I climbed out of the truck and marched over to tiny shack.

  He opened the door on the side and met me in front of the structure.

  “Hello,” I said. “I might be in the wrong place. I have a shipment of lumber here to deliver from the Grier Mill. You know anything about that?”

  The man wore dark blue pressed slacks with a collared shirt tucked into them. Kind of dressy for a guard. “Of course, we are expecting you. Are you alone?” He pitched to the side, glancing around me to search my truck from where he stood.

  “I’m alone, but I can handle it.”

  His brown eyes met mine for a few seconds and then a smile broke across his face. “I’m sure you can. Let me make a call, and then I’ll get this gate opened for you. When you pull in, drive straight past the new construction to the lot at the back. That’s where they had the last lumber yard take everything.”

  “We’ll be hauling many loads to bring up here, off and on. Is there always someone here at this shack?”

  Although I was taller, he looked down his nose at me. Tipping his head back, he squinted. “There’s always someone here. Day and night. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  He turned, went back inside, and I climbed back into the cab.

  I noticed a message on my phone and read it.

  MYRA: Tutoring went great. I love you. Please, be careful.

  ME: Love you too. Call you in a while.

  A few minutes later the gate opened, and the guy stuck his arm through a sliding window and waved me through.

  The neighborhood was obviously new, and it looked like the birth of a subdivision or a tiny village. But there were other buildings that seemed to be more commercial, yet everything was under construction, so it was hard to tell. Mostly, it looked empty.

  As the guard instructed, I followed the main drag to the end where there was a huge gravel lot. Surprisingly, it wasn’t empty and there was already an area where wood was stacked and covered on pallets.

  I wasted no time unloading the Forklift and began pulling stacks
off the bed. One by one, I brought them down and set them to the side. Before long, I was covering them up.

  I wanted to get out of there before dark. I didn’t have a good feeling about the place. For as much construction as was going on, it didn’t sit right that it was so empty. In fact, the only vehicle I saw the whole time was the one pulling in across the lot.

  Then again, if someone was here to sign for the delivery, that would be even better. I wouldn’t have to deal with the man at the gate on my way out. As the SUV came closer, I climbed into the truck to get the delivery paperwork.

  From behind me, I heard, “I wondered if that was you, Abe. Welcome to New Mecula.”

  Nowhere on the paperwork did it say New Mecula. Nowhere on the job had Matthew Fox been brought up.

  One thing was certain, if this was New Mecula and if Matthew was behind me and this wasn’t all a trick my mind was playing, I wouldn’t be back.

  Ever.

  Period.

  I climbed down and my jaw was so tight it ached. A big part of me wanted to load everything back up and leave, but that wasn’t my call to make. It would be Ted’s decision. Although, I suspected he wouldn’t finish the job. He hated everything about Lancaster, maybe more than I did.

  I only wanted to get the hell out of there.

  Shoving the clipboard at him, I ordered, “Sign at the bottom.”

  “You know, I didn’t think they’d have you make the deliveries, but I knew it was a possibility. Supposed you might be higher up than some truckdriver by now.”

  “Sign.”

  There was a ringing coming from his pocket, but he ignored it.

  “You know there’s a real nice place going up down the road. Could be yours and my sister’s.”

  My blood rushed hot. I wasn’t playing this game. Stepping closer, I demanded one last time, “Sign the goddamn paper.”

  Holding the board up, he pulled the pen from the clip. “There’s no need to be testy. You’re just like your washed-up father. Can’t handle not being in control.”

  He scribbled his name across the sheet and then flipped through them to find his copy before he tore it off.

  His opinion of me—or my father—didn’t matter.

  The ringing went on and on and was about as annoying as he was. Then I heard something else from above. A helicopter or plane. It got closer and closer as I scanned the sky for it.

  Not wanting to be there another minute, I yanked the clipboard from his hands and started back to the truck just as the dust in the lot began to fly into the air.

  It was a helicopter, and as my hand reached for the handle to climb the side of the Peterbilt, a booming sound came from above us.

  “Do not get in the vehicle. Put your hands above your head and lay face down on the ground,” instructed a man through a speaker above us. “This is the FBI. Get on the ground. Now.”

  Time sort of froze, but over my shoulder I watched as a dozen or so more vehicles sped down the road toward us. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but they didn’t know that. So my hands went up, and I did what I was told and got down.

  The only thing I could do was pray.

  29

  Myra

  Voicemail again.

  I’d already left three.

  Abe still wasn’t answering, and I was worried. It was past midnight and panic began to overcome me. I didn’t know what to do and paced the floor, over and over, trying to talk myself down from calling Dori or Ted.

  Surely, I was overreacting, and Abe was fine. He probably just fell asleep. Maybe he’d turned his phone off. There was also a chance he’d lost his charger and his cell was dead.

  Then I had an idea and searched on Google for the hotel he stayed at. I could call the desk. They’d be able to give me the number to his room. So that’s what I did, but minutes later I was more worried than before.

  “Are you sure Abe Hathaway hasn’t checked in? He was there last week. He’s there with a crew for work.”

  She was polite but didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. “He’s the one with the long hair, right?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. I could hear her clicking around.

  “Unless he got in and decided to stay in someone else’s room, I don’t see him in here anymore.”

  Dread swam around in my sour stomach. “Okay. Thanks for helping.”

  “No problem. Have a good night.” But until I heard from him, I didn’t see how that was possible. I waited another hour and tried Abe’s phone again.

  Nothing.

  I’d never lost sleep like that before. Never been worried sick about someone like I was Abe. Even when I’d been in Lancaster and everything was a mess after Jacob passed. Even when Abe and I were separated, and I had to work through things on my own. I’d never felt such anxiety.

  It was frightening.

  God, if you’re listening. Please let Abe be safe. Please let me hear from him. I’m scared and don’t know what to do. Please help me. Amen.

  My mind went to a verse I’d read many times, and I said it out loud. “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not our heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

  Yet, I was afraid.

  That night, I curled up on the couch. Clutching my phone to my chest, I willed it to ring.

  It never did.

  Eventually, I must have dosed off because when I heard pounding from the front door, it had gotten light outside without me noticing. I scrambled out from under the blanket and dashed to see if it was him. However, midway there, I realized he wouldn’t knock.

  It was Dori, and she looked like she hadn’t slept much either.

  Please let him be okay.

  “Have you heard from Abe?” It was the only thing I cared about.

  “Can I come in?”

  I moved out of the way but wasn’t backing down. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?” My throat felt tight and my eyes stung.

  She came inside and walked to the kitchen. “He’s okay. He’s not hurt. Where’s your coffee?”

  He’s not hurt.

  He’s not hurt.

  I’d never have a feeling of relief like that again. The extra nervous energy that had been banging around inside me had my hands wringing out as I got the grounds and filters out of the cabinet for her.

  “Where is he?”

  “Browning. With the police. Well, the FBI.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They called Ted about an hour ago...”

  I looked at the time. It was almost eight am.

  “And he’s headed from Nelson to Browning now with Chris. They raided New Mecula yesterday while Abe was there.”

  New Mecula?

  “Why was Abe there? Why would Ted have to go to Browning to talk to the police? I don’t understand.”

  As she filled the decanter, she shook her head. “I’m not really sure either. When Ted called, he said they allowed Abe to call him, under supervision, and that the place where they were delivering the lumber is New Mecula.” Her eyes met mine, and she held them. “We didn’t know.”

  “Why would they raid New Mecula? Why would they keep Abe? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Honey, that’s all I know right now. Ted said when he found out more, he’d call us. Abe wanted us to let you know he was all right.” She poured the water into the machine and then took a seat at the bar. “So I guess until they get it all figured out, you’re stuck with me.”

  About that time, I heard another car coming down the lane and immediately remembered Cassie. I was so tired and stressed out I’d forgotten about tutoring. There was no way I’d be able to concentrate on math, but she’d driven all the way out before I could cancel.

  “Who’s that?” Dori asked, both of us now watching her climb out of her clunker and climb the stairs.

  “Cassie. I know her from the prep classes. She’s tutoring me now.”

  Walking to the door to greet her, I straightened my hair, feeling h
ow all over the place it was in the loose messy heap on the side of my head. I still wore a t-shirt and sweats from after my bath the night before—before I nearly lost my mind worrying about Abe.

  He’s okay. He’s okay.

  I opened the door before she knocked. “Hi, Cassie. I’ll get you some money for coming out today, but I don’t think I can study.”

  The young woman took one look at me and her eyes bugged. “What in the hell is wrong with you? Are you sick?”

  I glanced down myself, considering just saying I was ill, but I’d never been a good liar. “No. I’ve just been up all night.”

  “Are you okay?” She breezed by me into the cabin. “I’ve never seen you look like shit. Plain, but not like shit.”

  She paused seeing my other company.

  “Hi, I’m Dori,” the older woman said getting cups out. “You drink coffee?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take one.” Cassie dropped her bag into the chair at the table where we usually sat and then pinned me with an expectant glare. Her eyebrows high on her forehead, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  I closed the door and walked to where the two women were. “I couldn’t get ahold of Abe last night. So I was up all night and then overslept. There was a problem at his work, and now he’s in Browning with the FBI.”

  I only had a vague idea of what the FBI was. I understood they were higher up than the normal police, but beyond that I didn’t have a clue. The only time I’d heard anything about them, it was from the news and I kind of assumed they were only in Washington DC.

  “Fuck. What did he do?” Cassie asked, taking the stool on the end.

  Dori got the sugar and the creamer out of the refrigerator and put them on the countertop, but Cassie waved her off because she drank hers black like Abe did. Bringing the hot pot of coffee with her, Dori poured the three of us mugs.

  “He didn’t do anything,” Dori said. “He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They’ll get it all worked out.”

  “But the FBI? They don’t mess around. Why would they be involved?”

 

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