Burton tipped his head. Was this a game? She might burst out laughing any moment with all the youth watching outside his window. Was she mocking him? “You’ll have to tell me how you know.”
Her face pinched. “I don’t want to say.”
He spread his hands. “Then I can’t …”
She gulped. “Okay, okay. But you can’t tell anyone.”
“I’ve given you my word.”
“We snuck out.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “He would tap my window, and I’d meet him somewhere. I know you didn’t want us dating.”
That was by far the least of his concerns.
“But it wasn’t just me. Like, all the girls went when he tapped.”
Burton’s heart sank. “All the girls?”
“You know, the Friday night crowd.”
Carl had been enticing his youth? The ones he held in his heart as on fire for Jesus? How blind he had been. “So you snuck out.” He had to hear it, no matter where it led. Carl wasn’t the first P.K. to trade on his position. He would have been hard to resist.
“One time he took me to this place. He was all mysterious, said he’d have to kill me if I told.” Her eyes shot up. “I thought he was joking. Like, he laughed when he said it.”
“Why did he take you there?”
She burned scarlet.
“You don’t have to answer.” Burton walked to the window. “Can you show me where it is?”
“I’ll tell you.” She wrung her hands under her chin. “But you have to promise, ’cause now I know … he meant it.”
Burton’s breath seized. He hadn’t considered that the girls might have been in danger themselves. He’d been so proud of Carl, so convinced …
“Nita, I promise.” Whatever she’d done with his … son, she was still his spiritual responsibility. And his civic responsibility was to find Carl by any means. “Tell me where.”
“Just past the turnoff to the old Hansen place, there’s a trail through the woods. You turn off there and just kind of go where it takes you. You’ll get to this big tree—”
“The whole area is forest.”
“But this is a totally big old tree, like, a giant one.” She drew a quick breath. “It’s under there.”
“Under?”
She nodded sharply. “It’s a cave they built.”
“They?”
“Carl and Duke.”
Burton cringed at Duke’s name. “Carl told you that?” He and Carl had decided early on that Duke was behind them. They never brought him up unless Carl’s nightmares forced a discussion. And then it was only to confirm that the Lord had dealt with the man and Carl had nothing more to fear. He never asked about his mother.
Nita squeezed her hands together. “He said Duke thought the government might come after him or something, and he could, like, live there for years.”
So Carl had made it his hiding place. His legacy from Duke? Burton said, “Thank you for telling me, Nita. You should go home now.”
“You won’t tell, right?”
“I won’t tell.” Burton closed the door behind her. Should he wake Madeline? He coveted her prayers. Her love sustained him as he stumbled through this valley. He went upstairs and touched her shoulder, knowing it would end her night’s sleep. She startled awake and he told her. She cried, but she would pray while he did what he had to. He stood up like an old man.
Next he woke Cooper Roehr, and together they drove out toward the old Hansen place. It wasn’t a direction people took by choice; the Hansens had lived deep in the woods and far from their neighbors. Probably why Duke got away with so much. The sheriff’s car took the track better than Burton’s sedan would have, but even so it was slow going.
“Big tree, huh?” Cooper chewed his cigar. “She say which side?”
Burton hadn’t named names, but he had to give Cooper the gist to get him out of bed. Now Cooper drove the trail like a hound, obviously wanting to be the one to bring Carl in. At least he’d agreed to let Burton talk to him first. If he could convince Carl to give himself up, it would be better all around. Maybe there were indications the boy was not in his right mind. Certainly, he’d been haunted. Burton could attest to that.
And when it came out how he’d seen his father killed and the town had called it justified … that had to mean something to a judge. Burton ducked his chin. He wasn’t making excuses. He was horrified by Carl’s attack on Alessi. He was simply trying to make sense of it.
Ahead there stood a monstrous fir with branches that draped like fabric. It had to be the one. Cooper came to a stop. “Don’t want to get closer and scare him off. This cave got back doors?”
“I don’t know.” Burton stared at the tree. It was dark, but even in the daylight he doubted you could tell there was anything in that rise. He closed his eyes.
Father …
Words had not come for two days now, but there was a groaning in his spirit. He had taken the son of his enemy to raise as his own. He had tried to bring light to the darkness of Carl’s mind. If there was any grace in that, any consolation …
“Let’s go.” Cooper eased out of the car and settled his hip. Burton climbed out.
“Let me go in alone, Cooper.”
Cooper unsnapped the gun in its holster and nodded.
The moonlight barely illuminated the ground through the trees. Carl had been afraid of the dark, at least those first years. He’d been afraid of a hand on the shoulder, a step behind him, a harsh word. He responded with anger, tried to hurt something or someone.
When Burton married Madeline, he warned her not to be alone with the boy when he was in a dark mood. To walk out of the house if necessary. But her gentle presence had seemed to help. It was her devotion that melted his heart and prepared it for his Savior.
Burton faltered and rubbed a hand over his face.
Father …
He reached the base of the tree and stopped. “Carl, can you hear me?”
The silence took on a tensile strain.
“I want to talk to you.”
There was no response for so long he wondered if he was simply talking to a tree. Then slowly the lowest branches rose up. He saw an opening and went toward it. If Carl meant to kill him, so be it.
C
ARL COULD HAVE GONE DOWN THE HATCH and crawled out through the sewer. That had always been the escape plan, and Duke had laid cement pipes big enough to fit through. It came out near the creek under another old tree. But hearing his father’s voice—Burton’s voice …
He pulled on the rope, half expecting the blaze of police lights, the clicking of rifles. But there was only Burton Welsh standing in the dark without even a flashlight. Had God brought him there?
Carl clicked the igniter on the propane lantern. The air pipes going up through the forest floor kept it from asphyxiating him when he had the opening closed. Now he held it for his father to climb over the lower barrier. Bringing the pastor into Duke’s place seemed wrong. Carl started to shake.
The hand that gripped his shoulder poured strength into his soul. But he had lost all that, and he started to cry. His father pulled him close and held him as though he weren’t the monster he’d become.
They stood that way a long time, then Carl said, “She wouldn’t stay dead.”
Burton pulled back and looked at him, confused, and sickened, it seemed. “Who?”
“Mom. Beth. She’s under there.” He waved his hand toward the hatch. “But she keeps coming out to blame me.”
“Beth?” Burton staggered. “Your mother?”
Carl sat down on the cot. “She was leaving me to the monster.”
Burton sat down beside him. “Carl, your mother was not leaving you.” The pastor’s arm came around his shoulders. “I advised her to go directly to a shelter. But she wouldn’t leave without you.”
The shaking intensified. “He showed me her letter.” Duke had waved it in his face, holding her by the hair.
“Look what she says! She can’t live with us no more.”
He hadn’t read all the words but he could tell by his mother’s face that she’d written the letter, that she was leaving.
Burton held him. “She was leaving Duke. Finding a place of safety. I told her we’d get you somehow, but she said Duke would kill you before he’d let you go.”
Carl crumpled. “No.” It came out of him like a groan. He couldn’t be the reason, the cause …
“It’s true. She went back for you the day she disappeared.”
Carl gripped his head, filled with images of blood. Fear in his nostrils, in his groin. The sound of blows, and cries, then only the thud of flesh. His breath shallowed until he scarcely took in air at all. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He’d watched her die without raising a hand to help.
Sobs wrenched him.
No, no, no
. Then he looked up, and she was there.
Burton stared at the space in front of Carl. Timbered wall, hung with every sort of tool, another lantern, and a first-aid kit. But Carl cried and talked and pleaded, then nodded, drinking in words only he could hear. “No, I won’t forget. We’ll do it just as you say.”
His eyes had taken on a stare that didn’t break when Burton shook him gently. “Carl. Carl, listen to me. You have to come with me now. Cooper’s outside, and if you give yourself up …” He turned his son’s jaw. “Carl, do you hear me?”
“I won’t forget. Just as you say. Duke won’t find us.”
Burton swallowed hard. He’d seen broken souls, Carl’s especially. But not a broken mind. Had the truth put him over the edge? He helped Carl to stand. “Come with me, son.”
Carl walked, but what he saw and heard, only God knew.
Steve woke with a raging crick in his neck. He rubbed it automatically. His lower back ached as well, and he leaned slowly into a stretch. Alessi hadn’t gone in the night. Now they faced another day. He popped a square of gum into his mouth, then leaned over and kissed her.
He wished he’d been the one to give her breath instead of Ben. But what good had it done? They had only kept her from the peace that surely waited. Unless this time was for him. Maybe he was the one needing something. What was he supposed to learn? To love? Unguardedly? Everything he’d said to her was about what he wanted. But what would she want? The ache spread outward from his chest. Did he love her enough to let her go?
Lord
. The pain was worse than he’d imagined. A little more than two weeks she’d been in his life and some of it unconscious. Would this morning be her last? Tears burned his eyes.
The greatest of these is love
. Could he love her into the Lord’s presence?
A tear dropped from his chin. He looked into her face, studied each freckle she hadn’t wanted photographed. He could not develop that roll. The pain of it would kill him. But this wasn’t about him.
Faith, hope, and love
.
He had to love enough to give her what she needed. His voice didn’t work the first try. Then he rasped, “If you have to go, Alessi, it’s all right. I won’t blame you.” Heart laid open, he pressed her hand to his cheek, amazed to realize he meant it. He couldn’t blame her for anything. Maybe he was through blaming. And he had given her the freedom she needed. Freedom to leave him, to be at peace. Tears streamed as he pressed her fingers to his mouth. He whispered, “I love you.”
Alessi opened her eyes to a face haloed in light, but this light was wholly bearable. The fire had burned away, and she no longer saw the one with the stone. But someone was there, and slowly his features came clear. “Steve?” she whispered, though the effort was almost more than she could manage.
He held her hand so tightly it hurt. Pressing her knuckles to his mouth, he huffed out crazy breaths. His cheeks were wet. Why was he so worked up? He sucked breath through his nostrils and rasped, “Oh, God.”
She searched his face. What on earth…? She suddenly noticed the walls and ceiling, the metal rail he leaned on. “Where am I?”
He half laughed. “Chambers City Hospital.” Hospital. No, she couldn’t remember a hospital.
“I see I’ll have to repeat everything I said.” His eyes teared up. “But that’s okay.” He leaned over and kissed her mouth.
An intense warmth not unlike the engulfing flames rushed through her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t … She closed her eyes and drifted until other voices broke out. Then she opened her eyes to unfamiliar faces. She felt as though she’d slept a hundred years in a glass coffin and was now the exhibit of the day. One woman stared at her as though she’d just walked through fire. But then, maybe she had. The flames were the clearest thing in her memory.
The woman came forward and said, “I’m Dr. Liz Deklin.”
Alessi gathered her strength and said, “Hi.”
Cheers broke out. Alessi startled.
“I told you she was speaking.” Steve smiled as she’d never seen him smile. Maybe he’d had a hundred years’ sleep as well. He wasn’t growling.
The doctor pressed a button that raised the head of the bed. “I don’t suppose you remember what’s happened.”
Alessi shook her head. She couldn’t even figure out what was happening now. She met Steve’s eyes and held them. He was happy; that much was sure.
The doctor said, “Do you know what day it is?”
Alessi shook her head.
“Who was the first president of the United States?” She was joking, right? “George Washington.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Have you answered Steve’s proposal?”
That stumped her. She glanced from the doctor to Steve, who looked as surprised as she.
He said, “You heard that?”
Dr. Deklin smiled. “I was at the nurses’ station. We all heard it.”
They all heard what? Alessi hadn’t heard.
Steve scowled. “Well, she’s confused enough. Leave it alone.”
Alessi scanned the faces as a sigh circled the room.
“Is there a plan here?” Steve was growling again. That much was normal.
Dr. Deklin laughed softly. “I want to run some tests. But I guess what’s happened here has more to do with you”—she pointed at Steve—“than me.”
Alessi sank into the pillow. It would be nice to know what had happened, why she was there, and what Steve had to do with it.
“I’ll want some time with her.” Dr. Deklin nodded to one of the others who went out, then said to Steve, “Why don’t you go home.”
He opened his mouth, but the doctor laid a hand on his arm. “This is one for the record. I want to be thorough.”
He nodded, met Alessi’s eyes, sending that warmth rushing through her again. “I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She actually felt it when he left the room, as though something vital had changed, some energy she had clung to evaporated. It was similar to the moment her mother’s last breath seeped out.
She turned to the doctor. “Please tell me what’s going on.” She tried not to sound as lost as she felt.
Dr. Deklin shook her head. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”
Great
. Alessi struggled to think.
The doctor touched her hand. “No, I’m not serious. But Ms. Moore, I have to say, I may not have a medical answer for you.”
Strange thing for a doctor to say. But answers wouldn’t matter so much if she could only have a clue. “Could you just start with what happened?”
Steve walked out to his truck. At least he thought he walked, though the ground was not too solid beneath his feet. He still could not grasp it.
I don’t have to know, Lord. Not how or why. Just thank you. Thank you, Jesus
. He got into the truck and flew to the station.
“She’s awake, Ben.” He’d hardly burst through the door before the words were out.
“What?” The word slipped from Ben’s mouth.
“Alessi’s awake, talking, everything.” Steve choked on the wonder. Ben held himself up by the counter. “That’s a miracle.”
Steve pushed through the service door to find Dave and gave him the same message.
Dave hooted. “Praise God. I have to tell Diana.” Steve had others to tell, starting with Cooper.
The old man looked tired. “You mean she’s recovered?”
“More than that. She’s back from the dead.”
Cooper’s face eased. Maybe he’d cared more than he’d shown. “Well, that’s good. It’ll be good for Carl too.”
Steve jolted. “Carl?”
“Brought him in last night.”
Steve drew a slow breath. No, he couldn’t hate the kid. Not now. Not with mercy flowing like a river. “He’s in jail?”
Cooper nodded. “At least it won’t be a murder charge.” He tapped his head. “Cracked upstairs, though. Guess what happened to his mom was just too much.”
There was some disconnect here. “His mom?”
“We found her body where Duke dumped it. Best guess is Carl saw her die. We’re not getting anything too clear from him, though. Mostly keeps talking to the air.”
Steve shook his head. He did not want to feel compassion for Carl. But … he’d seen Beth die? At Duke’s hands? Probably forced to watch, probably helpless to stop it. Maybe felt guilty. When he saw Alessi … Had he simply cracked?
“What happens now?”
Cooper rubbed his face. “There’ll be an inquiry. Who knows how that’ll turn out, except I’ll finally be done with this job.” Both relief and regret in his voice.
Cooper deserved to retire, but it might not go well for him, failing to act on Duke’s death. Things could be hard on Charity all around for a while. Steve leaned a hip to the desk. “Think it’ll sort out?”
Cooper stretched out his legs. “After six years of carrying the blame together, who’s even sure which ones dealt the blows?”