Rising Darkness (7 page)

“What about you?” he asked suddenly. “Is there a Mr. McClure?”

I shook my head. “No. My job comes first. There's no time for anything else.”

He looked at me strangely, and I immediately realized how odd my comment sounded. Most people wouldn't be so passionate about accounting.

“I want to own my own firm someday.” I spewed the first thing that popped into my head. “It's my dream.”

“Oh.”

I watched him study me, and I felt myself melting under the power of those astonishing eyes. Was there any chance he'd recognize me? Was my goal of tracking down Terrance Chase in jeopardy already?

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and soft. “I don't know, Emily. It's like I'm seeing one person, but I sense someone else hiding inside. Someone who seems so familiar.” His eyes suddenly widened, and he laughed. “Wow. Where did that come from? Sounded rather ominous. Sorry. I must be feeling a little melodramatic today.”

“We all wear masks, Pastor,” I said. “The person we present to the world is rarely the person we really are.”

“You're right.” He took a deep breath. “Let's see if I can peer beneath the mask of an accountant.” He stared down at his coffee cup for a moment, and then he looked up and gazed at me through narrowed eyes. “I think you're a successful woman who knows what she wants. You were strong enough to come to a town full of people you don't know, to track down a family that never claimed you. This shows a real
sense of curiosity and determination.” He grinned. “Maybe you should be a writer or a reporter. Or even a detective.”

I laughed nervously at his evaluation, which was way too close to the mark. My anxiety had reached a peak, and warning bells were going off in my mind. If I wanted to find Chase, I needed to stay as far away from Jonathon as possible. He was dangerous. Not only to my mission—but also to my heart.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not very adventurous. It's true that coming here might seem . . . brave, but it has more to do with creating a family tree.” I shrugged. “It's like accounting. I'm just filling in the gaps. Making sure everything balances correctly.”

Jonathon didn't say anything. Just kept looking at me.

“So tell me about your church,” I blurted out, trying to find something to distract him.

The preoccupied look left his features, and he launched into a long story about his church and the people who attended Agape. His excitement was evident, and I could tell he was passionate about being a pastor. He seemed happy and fulfilled. I couldn't help but wonder if accomplishing my dream of becoming a crime reporter would bring me the joy I saw on his face. It was a goal I'd wanted to achieve for a long time, but as I listened to him, I realized I had lost track of why.

As he talked, my mind wandered back to the past. I could see Jonathon standing next to me on the road to Kingdom. His azure eyes mirrored the flowers that grew wild in and around our town. I could feel the sun beating down on us and my heart racing at his nearness. The memory caused an ache inside me. Something I didn't understand. I hated
Kingdom and was glad to be away from it. So why did I suddenly yearn to stand on that road again, with Jonathon by my side?

Mary stepped up to the table with our food, breaking me out of my reminiscing. Jonathon stopped talking while she placed our dishes in front of us. We both thanked her, and then she left to take care of other customers. I gazed around the crowded restaurant, remembering I'd picked The Whistle Stop because I wanted to see as many people as possible, hoping to spot someone who looked like Chase. A quick examination didn't reveal a single person who could have been the notorious robber.

“Did you hear me, Emily?”

Jonathon's question got my attention. “I—I'm sorry. What did you say?”

“I've bored you, talking so much about my church. I'm sorry.”

“No, I found it very interesting. I just remembered a call I need to make.” That much was true. I really should contact the prison. I couldn't keep putting it off.

“Do you have time to finish your lunch?” Jonathon asked.

I shook my head. “Maybe Mary could pack it up for me, and I can take it back to Esther's. I'm sorry. I should have made this call earlier. It just slipped my mind.” Although it was the last thing I really wanted, I had to get away from Jonathon.

“I understand. I just hope you're not leaving because I dominated the conversation.”

“Of course not. I didn't mean to give that impression.”

Jonathon offered me a wide smile, and my heart flip-flopped inside my chest. He was so handsome. I wanted to reach out
and touch his face, but I couldn't. And I never would. It was time to accept that fact and get on with my search.

“Good,” he said. “If you're still in town, maybe you'd like to come to my church Sunday morning?”

I quickly shook my head. “Sorry. I'm not the church type anymore. I quit believing in God a long time ago.”

His eyebrows arched, but the smile didn't leave his face. “It's not a prerequisite for attendance. Just come. I'm sure some of our members would love to meet you.”

My ears perked up at this. It was Wednesday. If I hadn't found Chase by Sunday, it might be a good idea to go where a lot of Sanctuary's citizens gathered. There was no way I'd set foot in the Mennonite service, which was okay since I was pretty confident Chase wouldn't go that far to cover his identity. “Okay,” I said finally, “I may take you up on that.”

Jonathon's smile grew bigger. “Great. Service starts at nine-thirty.”

Returning his smile, I signaled for Mary. “I'll do my best.”

“I really hope you do,” Jonathon said slowly. “It would be nice to see you again.”

“Thank you.” I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I dismissed it as good manners.

“Did you need something, honey?” I looked up and found Mary already standing next to me.

“I need to get my food to go. I forgot about an important phone call I have to make.”

“Okay,” she said. “But you can call from in here, you know. Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes, but it's a rather private call.”

“I understand,” Mary said. “I'll get you some carryout containers.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Jonathon asked after Mary left. “You look a little pale.”

I wasn't surprised. Seeing Jonathon again was an incredible shock. But I reassured him quickly. “Yes. Sorry. A slight blood sugar problem. When it drops, sometimes I don't feel very well.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

I braced my hands on the tabletop in front of me. “No, I just need to lie down for a while.”

“One of my friends has the same problem. Drinking orange juice helps. I'll be right back.” He jumped up and walked back toward the counter. He said something to Rosey, who was ringing up a customer's bill. She nodded at him, finished with the man, and then hurried to the kitchen. Seconds later, she emerged with a glass of orange juice. Jonathon took it and came back to our table.

“Here,” he said, handing me the glass. “Drink this.”

Obediently, I took the glass, downed the juice, and thanked him. Other customers were watching us, probably wondering what all the fuss was about. Now, instead of feeling faint, my face grew hot. I'd always had rather rosy cheeks, never needing makeup to enhance them. I was pretty sure by now they were beyond red.

Thankfully, Mary showed up right after that with two foam containers. She scooped my salad into the larger box and poured my soup into a round container with a lid. “Here you go, honey,” she said, putting everything in a plastic bag. She also added some crackers, some plastic ware, and a small foam cup containing dressing to the bag.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “Do I pay you here or up front at the cash register?”

Mary patted my shoulder. “You don't pay me at all. It's on me. A welcome-to-Sanctuary gift.”

“Thank you. That's very kind.” I took the bag from her and then headed for the front of the restaurant. More than anything else, I wanted out of that place. Away from Jonathon. Away from the powerful feelings that tried to overwhelm me. I'd just reached the exit when Jonathon stepped in front of me and opened the door. He followed me out onto the big wooden porch outside the restaurant.

“I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed meeting you. I really hope we get another chance to talk.”

Again I had that strong urge to reach out and touch his face. Jonathon had never worn a beard, but he wasn't clean shaven either. Some men might have looked scruffy with a light growth of hair on their face—but not Jonathon. It only added to his handsome features.

“Thanks. Me too. Maybe some other time?” What was I saying? Why hadn't I simply told him I was going to be too busy to spend time with him—or anyone?

“Sure. I'll hold you to that.”

I practically ran to my car, got in, and quickly drove away. The bag of food I'd put on the seat next to me fell over, but I didn't stop to check it until I reached Esther's. When I turned off the engine, I sat there for several minutes, watching Sanctuary cloaked in afternoon sunlight, wondering what to do. Should I stay or should I take my shattered heart and run away?

By the time I was ready to climb out of my car, the sun was already getting low in the sky. Daylight Savings Time was still a couple of weeks away, so the sun still set early. I glanced at my watch. Just a few minutes after five. I'd done it again. Missed calling the warden's office. I suddenly remembered the number Tom had given me and wondered if I should try it instead.

I grabbed the bag from The Whistle Stop and carried it to the front porch. Then I collapsed into one of the rocking chairs, feeling drained and confused. I put the sack down and opened my purse, finding my notebook and pulling it out. After flipping a few pages, I found the rapidly scrawled number Tom had given me. I punched it in and waited.

A male voice came on the line.

“Hello?”

I told him I was calling to check on Tom. “I just want to make sure he's doing okay,” I said. “And I'd appreciate it if you'd tell him I called.”

There was a long silence. “Can you hold on a moment please?”

“Sure.” While I waited, I picked up my bag from the restaurant and checked it out. The container with the salad dressing was on its side, but it was still closed. Thankfully, the soup was still secure, as was the salad.

I sat in the gathering dusk, waiting for the man who'd answered to return to the phone. I hadn't been hungry at the restaurant, but now my stomach growled. I began to grow impatient and was thinking about hanging up when suddenly he came back on the line.

“Can I ask who's calling?” he asked abruptly.

“A friend. I'm not asking for any personal information. I just want to know if he's all right. He called me yesterday and seemed upset.”

More silence. “Is this Sophie?”

My mouth dropped open. “I'm sorry. What did you say?” How could this guy know who I was? What should I say?

“Tom told me about you,” he said softly. “I'm Donnie Matthews. I'm a guard here and a friend of his.”

This had to be the guard Tom trusted. The one who'd gotten his letters out of the prison. “Yes, I'm Sophie. I didn't realize this was your phone number. Is Tom all right, Donnie? He called me yesterday. Wanted me to help him.”

“Tom was attacked last night, Sophie,” he said in hushed tones. “He was beaten up pretty bad. He's going to be okay, but he's lost all phone privileges. You won't be able to talk to him for a while.”

I instantly felt guilty. He'd called me for help, and I'd ignored him. Had my visit gotten Tom hurt?

As if he could read my thoughts, Donnie said, “It's not your fault. You couldn't have prevented this. Trust me.”

“I—I'd like to see him, but I'm out of town. In Sanctuary, Missouri. It would take me almost nine hours to get there.”

“Tom told me you were there, trying to find Terrance Chase. You might as well stay where you are. I'm pretty sure he'll be denied visitors for quite a while. It happens sometimes when inmates fight. To be honest, finding Chase might be the only thing that can really help him. Right now he's in isolation, so he's safe. I can't guarantee anything when he's put back into the general population. Frankly, I'm wondering if someone here knows Chase and is trying to keep Tom quiet.”

“But how could that be? Tom said you were the only one who knew what was going on.”

“I believed that, too. Except for the letter he sent you, I snuck all his other mail out of the prison so no one would find out what he was up to. I can't figure it out. Maybe he left something in his cell and the wrong person saw it.”

For some reason, the guard with the sharp features popped into my mind. He'd seemed especially interested in Tom and me. Could he have been in Tom's cell when he was out in the yard? It certainly explained the way he'd acted. I told Donnie about him and his demeanor while Tom and I visited.

“I know exactly who you mean. His name is Harry Rand.” He paused for a moment. “He might be behind this. He could have found out what Tom was doing and passed the information on to someone else. Harry's a mean son of a gun. I think he brings contraband into the prison for some of the inmates. I've never caught him at it, but I've certainly had my suspicions.”

“Maybe you should stay away from him, Donnie.”

“I will. The best thing I can do right now is act like I have no idea why Tom was beaten. Keep my head down.”

“What about the prisoner who attacked Tom? Who is he?”

Donnie sighed. “Just a troublemaker. Basically, he's an attack dog. Not someone who would be looking for Chase. The kind of guy who could be manipulated by someone else to start a fight.”

“Like Harry Rand?”

“Exactly.”

I thought quickly. “I'll work as fast as I can to find Chase. It's particularly important you keep me out of this, Donnie. I made up a story so I could come here and search for Chase. I don't want anyone to find out what I'm up to. Especially Chase.”

“I understand that. I would never tell anyone about you. Or Tom.”

“Will you keep me updated? Let me know how Tom is doing?”

“Sure.”

“Did my number show up on your phone?”

“Yes. I've got it, Sophie. Let's hope Sanctuary lives up to its name. I don't like knowing Harry saw you talking to Tom . . .”

“He has no idea where I am,” I said. “As long as he doesn't find out, I'll be fine.”

Another long silence. I began to feel nervous.

“Sophie, I don't want to think this . . .”

“What, Donnie?”

“I'm wondering if whoever beat Tom was looking for information. If someone connected to Chase is behind this, more than anything, they'd want to know who you are and . . .”

“Where I am,” I finished for him.

“Right. Remember, there's still a lot of money missing. The idea of finding Chase and the money could drive someone to do something . . . violent.”

As I thought about Donnie's conjecture, it made more sense than anything else. At first I'd thought Tom's warning could have come from one of Chase's cronies trying to protect him. Yet the crime had happened so long ago, that idea seemed far-fetched. But what if it had been someone looking for the money? There could be a lot of candidates. It was not only a much more likely scenario, but it also meant I could be in some trouble if my location was revealed.

“Have you talked to Tom?”

“I can't. I'm not assigned to the part of the prison where he's being held. It would look really suspicious if I asked to visit him.” There was a brief silence before Donnie said, “Please be careful, Sophie. What if Tom told someone about you?”

“I don't believe he'd do that.” Even as I said the words, I wasn't sure they were true. I didn't really know Tom Ford anymore. There wasn't any reason for me to believe he'd protect me if he was threatened.

“I hope you're right. But we can't be sure of that.”

“Let's wait until we have some solid answers. Whoever hurt Tom might have had a completely different motivation. I understand fights in prison aren't all that rare.”

“Well, that's true, but I still think you should be cautious.” He hesitated for a moment. “Sophie, do you need any help? I could come to Sanctuary.”

“And what would you do here?”

“I'll help you search. And protect you. It's what Tom would want.”

I was touched by this man who'd tried to look after Tom and now wanted to defend me. “That's nice, really. But I'll be fine. Sanctuary is a very small town. Anyone new would stick out like a sore thumb. Kind of like me. You have my word that I'll be careful.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “But I wish you'd consider it. What if something happens and you need help? Who could you turn to?”

Jonathon's face popped into my mind, but I dismissed it. There was no way I was going to tell Jonathon who I really was. I was too embarrassed. Besides, he probably still hated me. Just like everyone else in Kingdom.

“I don't know. Don't worry, Donnie. If anything weird happens, I'll call you.” A chilly breeze drifted over me, and I shivered. “I've got to go. But thank you so much. For helping Tom, and for being here for me. It makes me feel better—having someone else who knows what's going on.”

“Well, I'm glad, but I still wish you'd let me come.”

“Thanks again, but I'd much rather have you keep an eye on Tom. Call me if anything changes with him, okay? And if you can possibly find a way to let him know I called, I'd appreciate it.”

“I'll do my best. Good-bye, Sophie.”

“'Bye, Donnie.”

I hung up and gathered my food. Esther's front door was unlocked, and when I went inside, I didn't see her anywhere. It wasn't very late. Had she already gone to bed? Not sure, I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of iced tea, and
took my soup and salad out of the bag. The soup was cold. A quick look around the kitchen didn't reveal a microwave, which didn't surprise me. But I found a pan, poured the soup into it, and started heating it up on Esther's ancient stove. While my soup warmed, I took the plastic fork, spoon, and knife out of the cellophane wrapper and put them down on the kitchen table. After pouring the dressing on my salad, I started eating. The vegetables were still crisp and fresh, and the dressing was incredible. Homemade. After the soup was hot, I poured it back into its foam container and tasted it. It was delicious. Almost three years of fast food and my own cooking, which was pitiful at best, made me think once again about Lizzie's restaurant in Kingdom. There was nothing better than food cooked by someone who knew what they were doing.

I realized with a start that Kingdom had drifted back into my thoughts again. Ever since I'd set foot in Sanctuary, my old hometown had been pushing its way back into my consciousness. After all the years of trying to forget, why couldn't I stop thinking about the past? Seeing Jonathon was a shock, but I'd put him out of my mind before, so surely I could do it again. The truth was, being so near him again had shaken me to the core.

“Stop it, Sophie,” I said to myself. “You're not going down this road again.” I tried to recite my affirmations, but for some reason, they felt like dirt in my mouth. Positive words weren't going to help me this time. Either I had to make up my mind and ignore him—and the past—or I'd have to give up and leave Sanctuary.

No. I'd run away from myself once, and I just couldn't do
it again.
Wouldn't
do it again. Terrance Chase could actually be here—or at least
was
here at some point—and this was my only chance to find him. To write the story of a lifetime. To become everything I wanted to be. I couldn't fail. I had to stay the course.

I finished my meal, cleaned up, and headed upstairs. When I opened the door to my room, I saw a piece of paper on the bed. It was a note from Esther.

Feeling a little tired tonight. Went to bed early. Will see you in the morning, honey. Maybe we can talk then. Please help yourself to anything you need. I put clean towels in the bathroom for you.

Esther

I'd completely forgotten we were supposed to visit this afternoon. I'd been so focused on the books in the church basement that I'd blown Esther off. Her kindness touched me and made me feel guilty all at the same time. I tossed her note in the trash and slumped down on the fainting couch. Frankly, everything in this town made me feel guilty. Pretending to be someone else was exhausting. I couldn't help but be concerned about Tom, but the thing foremost on my mind was being forced to face Jonathon again. What were the chances something like this could even happen? Some people in Kingdom would tell me this was God's hand. That He'd brought me here for a reason. That He had some kind of plan for my life. But I wouldn't buy into that. His supposed love had placed me in a family that hated me and abused me. He'd let me get involved with Tom and mess up my life so badly
I'd had to run away at eighteen. Everything I had now was because of one person. Me. I had no intention of ever letting the delusion of a loving God back in my life. I knew better.

“You hear that?” I said softly. “If I don't believe in You—if I don't hope You love me or that You want to help me—I'll never be disappointed again. I can make my own way. I don't need You. I don't need anyone.”

I gathered my pajamas and headed to the bathroom. After soaking in a hot bath for a while, I walked down the hall to Benjamin's room. I found an old novel that looked interesting and went back to my room. When I walked in, I found two of Esther's cats curled up on my bed. Clyde and Frances, a pretty calico, were settled in for the night. Seeing them made me smile. Animals had a way of seeing the best in people. If only people could do the same.

Being careful not to disturb the cats, I climbed into the large bed. I opened the book and tried to read, but a voice kept whispering to me, asking why I felt it necessary to explain my lack of faith to a God I didn't believe existed.