Rising Darkness (14 page)

A few minutes before two o'clock, I told Zac and Esther I was leaving and would probably meet them at the church.

It was two on the button when I pulled up in front of The Oil Lamp. Jonathon's truck was already there. I went inside and found him sitting at a table in the back corner of the restaurant. I'd just sat down when Randi came up and asked me what I wanted.

“Just iced tea,” I answered.

“Bring us both a piece of your great coconut cream pie,” Jonathon said.

I started to protest, but he held up one hand.

“Trust me. You've never had coconut cream pie like this. If you can't finish it, I'll eat it for you.”

Randi laughed. “He means it, honey. That's how he gets extra pie without looking like a pig.” She shook her head. “I thought gluttony was a sin, pastor man.”

Jonathon grinned. “Just fetch the pie, woman.”

Randi chuckled, patted Jonathon on the shoulder, and walked away.

“I take it she doesn't go to your church?” I asked when she was out of hearing range.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, she does. Why do you ask?” His confused expression cleared. “Oh, I take it you're still bugged by the lack of formality I have with my parishioners?”

I shrugged. “It's not my business.”

Jonathon took a sip of his coffee. “What do you care, Sophie? You don't believe in God anyway, right?”

“Like I said, it's none of my business what you do.”

“According to you, pastors teach others to believe in someone who doesn't exist. Doesn't that make us . . . phonies? Liars? Why should we get any respect?”

I scowled at him. “I never said that. You're putting words in my mouth.”

“No, I'm not. If there's no God, then I'm lying to the people who attend my church.”

I sighed. “Obviously, you're trying to make a point. Why don't you just say it? Get it over with?”

“I'm not trying to make any point except this—I think you do believe in God. If you didn't, you wouldn't be so angry. Why be upset with someone who isn't real? It doesn't make sense.”

I felt my face flush with anger. “Then you explain to me where He's been all my life, Jonathon.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Right there with you. He never left.”

I pulled my hand away. “Then He stood by and did nothing.”

Jonathon started to say something else, but I waved his
comment away. “You asked me to meet you because you said you'd help me go through these names. Was that true or not?”

He frowned. “Yes, it's true. But one thing before we start. I need to apologize to you. If I'd been the right kind of friend, you could have told me what was happening at home. What your father was doing to you. I let you down, and I blame myself. You should have been able to come to me for help.”

I blinked back the tears that sprang to my eyes. “I wouldn't have told you, no matter what you did. I was ashamed. Afraid people would blame me. Hate me.”

“How could you think that? What happened wasn't your fault.”

“That isn't what my father said. He counted on my shame to keep me quiet.” I wiped my eyes. “Look, I've worked through a lot of stuff over the last several years. I appreciate what you just said, but it truly had nothing to do with you. You were my savior. The one person who didn't seem to mind having me around. Until I ruined everything.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I didn't come here to talk about my father. You said you'd help me with my story. If you don't mind, I'd feel more comfortable if we could drop this subject. It's personal. I shouldn't have said anything about it in the first place.”

“I disagree,” Jonathon said softly. “I think you need to talk about it. Dismissing it isn't the way to heal, Sophie. You've got to face your feelings. Your anger. Maybe I wasn't there for you when it happened, but I'd like to be here for you now.”

Before I could respond, Maxie came up to the table with my tea and our pie. Toasted coconut covered the rich, thick meringue, and the filling spilled out onto the plate.

I thanked her and waited until she walked away before framing a response to Jonathon's comment. “I—I really appreciate your offer. But to be honest, I just don't think I could talk to you about this.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Why not? Because you know me? Wouldn't that actually make you more comfortable?”

I couldn't tell him it was because I still cared for him. He might feel some compassion, but he'd never have romantic feelings for me. “No, I don't think so.” I sighed. “Look, let's get to the list. Maybe we can talk about other things . . . later.”

He studied me for a few seconds. “All right. If that's what you want. But please remember what I said. I'm completely serious.”

“I will. Thanks.” I took a bite of my pie and washed it down with a sip of tea. The pie was incredible.

Jonathon grinned when he saw my expression. “I take it I don't need to finish that for you, after all?”

“Not unless you want a fork in your hand.”

“I'll pass, thanks.” He took a bite of his own pie and then put his fork down. He stared at me with a weird expression on his face. “I know you're Sophie Wittenbauer, but it's so strange. Sometimes I see you, some fragment of the girl I knew. And other times . . . you're not her. You're someone else. Someone I don't know. It's unsettling.”

“I don't want to be that girl anymore. I've done everything I can to get rid of her.”

He stared down at his plate for a moment, not saying anything. When he looked up, there was something in his eyes that made me catch my breath.

“I cared about that girl. I'm afraid I can't just dismiss her
like you have. She may have been confused, but there was something special about her. A fire. A determination. I felt drawn to that . . . and to her.” He looked down for another long moment before lifting his eyes and meeting mine. “You've always been beautiful, Sophie. You were a beautiful child, and now you're a beautiful woman. Beauty isn't something you wear on the outside. It shines from the inside. I see that in you now—and I saw it in you back then.”

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, and I couldn't think of anything to say. It was as if the right words didn't exist. We kept staring at each other until someone at the table next to us dropped a utensil on the floor. The clanging made us both jump. I picked up my glass and forced myself to take a drink, trying to concentrate on the cold liquid coursing down my dry throat instead of the searing heat that seemed to flow through my body.

As I put my glass down, I tried to calm my trembling body. “Let's talk about Terrance Chase, okay?”

“Okay,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Tell me the names you have. Let's see if we can narrow them down.”

I picked up my purse and pulled out my notebook. Then I searched for a pen. My hands shook so badly, it was difficult to grasp. “Whoever knocked me out took my other notebook so some of the names were lost. Also, I still have one record book at the church I need to go through. The sooner, the better.”

“You never mentioned that someone took your notebook,” Jonathon said after swallowing another bite of pie.

“I didn't want Pastor Troyer to know what I was really doing in his basement. If I'd told him about the notebook—
the one he thought I was using to do research on my supposed family—he would have become suspicious.”

“At first, I didn't believe you. I thought you'd simply tripped and hit your head. If someone really was in that basement, it means you might be in danger, Sophie. Someone is trying to stop you from finding the truth.”

“I realize that, but if they'd really wanted to hurt me, they could have finished me off. They didn't. All they took was my notebook and a picture I had of Terrance Chase. Thankfully, I'd removed my notes from yesterday morning and left them in my room. The only thing I don't have is yesterday afternoon's names. All my other previous work is on my laptop.”

“So now that they know you're going through the records, probably looking for Chase, what do you think they want? I mean, I assume they realize you could have saved the information somewhere else. Stealing those notes won't stop you from continuing your search.”

“I don't know what they want. Maybe it's someone just trying to figure out what I'm up to. Maybe it has nothing to do with Chase.”

“Maybe.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “I have a tough time believing Chase is in Sanctuary. It might sound ridiculous, but I like to think I'd know if someone that evil was living in my town.” He leaned toward me. “You shouldn't take this attack so lightly, Sophie. Whoever it was hit you pretty hard. Maybe they meant to do more than just knock you out.”

“I didn't get that impression, Jonathon, and I'm fine.” To be honest, I
was
a little worried. I knew I was taking risks, but I really wanted this story. I had to keep Jonathon from
contacting the police before I was able to find Chase. Trying to change the subject, I reached down, picked up my purse, and took out my phone. After bringing up my pictures, I found Chase's mug shot and handed Jonathon the phone.

He stared at it. “I don't know,” he said finally. “I mean, I know some men with his coloring. It's just too hard to tell from this picture. It's too fuzzy.”

I put my phone back in my purse. “That's why these names are so important. It's been a long time, and he probably changed his appearance. When I first came here, I really thought I could recognize him. But I was being naïve. That's why narrowing it down through these lists is so important. If I can find someone on the list who might be Chase, then I can probably use the mug shot to confirm my suspicions.” I sighed. “I was really relying on that picture. It was a copy of the last known picture of Chase. I've stared at it long enough to memorize it, so I'm not sure why I'm so upset. I guess it was kind of my security blanket.”

“What happens if you decide Chase was here and is already gone?”

“I try to track him down.”

Jonathon was silent for a moment. “Sophie, I think it might be time to contact the authorities. I don't want you to put yourself in any more danger. I know this story is important to you, but it isn't worth your life.”

There it was. The reaction I'd been dreading. “Look, at least I need a name. A possible suspect. I'm so close. If I can't figure out who Chase is for certain—or if it gets too dangerous—I'll call the police.”

Jonathon sighed and shook his head. “I'm not convinced,
but we'll talk about it later.” He pushed away his pie plate and leaned toward me again. “Are you checking men who have died?”

I nodded and read him the list.

“I either know those men or know of them. None of them would fit your scenario. One of them, August Metzger, was here a couple of years ago. His background was checked during the murder investigation. He's not Chase.”

“Someone was murdered in Sanctuary?”

“Same thing happened in Kingdom. No place is immune from evil.”

“I guess not.” It seemed there should be a place on earth where people could live in peace and safety.

“Why would Terrance Chase stay in Sanctuary?” Jonathon asked. “When he felt he was safe, wouldn't he leave town and go somewhere else? Someplace where he could spend the money?”

“Yes, that's certainly possible. That's why the names of the men who left are so important. I'm even looking for men who came here single and left married. I agree it would be odd for him to stay—unless he likes it here. Of course, I think people would notice if someone tried spending millions of dollars in Sanctuary.”

“I agree. So you want to recopy the names you lost and bring your list up to date so you can see who left town?”

“Exactly. Maybe after the supper I'll see if Pastor Troyer will let me go back to the church and finish up.”

“You're not going alone,” Jonathon said emphatically. “I'm going with you.”

“Thank you. I really would feel better if you did. I don't want to be there by myself.”

“I intend to keep a close eye on you from now on.”

I studied him for a moment. “You know, I'm still having a hard time seeing you as a pastor. It's quite a change from the Mennonite rebel you used to be.”

“I rebelled against some of the self-imposed rules from our church because I love the truth, and I wanted to serve God honestly.” His eyebrows met as he looked at me. “Look, Sophie, I'm not knocking the good people in Kingdom. Some of them were the best Christians I've ever known. I . . . just wanted more freedom. I think the grace of God justifies that.”

“All those rules didn't make my father a good man.” I picked up my iced-tea cup and stared into it. “Yet people like Lizzie, Hope, Ebbie . . . and you . . . were wonderful people who truly cared about others.”