The Magic in Your Touch (28 page)
“I’m sure you won’t be surprised when I tell you no prints were recovered, but it isn’t the kind of knife you buy at a hardware store, either. I’m pretty sure it’s custom made. Sam’s been on the phone half-the night and most of this morning trying to track down the manufacturer.”
Howard nodded. “Good. Maybe he’ll come up with something. My men will be following the two of your everywhere you go until we catch Wilson. He’s our best hope for tracking down the creep who hired him. Your home and offices will be under surveillance, and you’ll have a tail anytime you go anywhere.”
“Good idea.” Howard stood up, and Agent Miles did the same. “We’re gonna get out of here, Nash. We’re staying at different places throughout town and on into Chicago, so as not to arouse suspicion, but you can reach me anytime on my cell.” He was almost to the door when it flew open and Sam rushed inside, panting for breath.
“You’d never get it on over that cast. Besides, our church is fairly casual.” He looked at Nate’s khaki Dockers’s and dark-blue pullover. “You look great, as always. You’re gonna cause me to have impure thoughts all during the service.”
Brandon smoothed a stray strand of hair off Nate’s forehead. “Not since this morning. The Atlanta PD went to his house last night after Sam got that call-back from the manufacturing company, but he was gone. They went to his office, too, but either he got tipped off about the arrest warrant, or he really is on a business trip like his secretary said. The FBI has all his known hangouts covered, as well as the airport. When he comes in, we’ll be ready for him.”
Nate’s shoulders sagged so much, Bran regretted even mentioning it. “I know I should call her, but I just don’t think I can face her right now. I’m still trying to process it all. As soon as I saw that knife, I knew, in the back of my mind, that it was my father’s. He’s practically famous for his knife collection. He’s especially fond of the custom made ones. What I don’t understand is, if my father hired Wilson, why would Wilson throw my father’s knife at you? There’s no doubt he meant to lodge it in your arm. He had to know you would trace it back to Calder. And why plant that rental receipt?”
“Maybe your father double crossed him, made him angry. Hell, Calder was here for less than twenty-four hours and he managed to piss me off at least six times. There are lots of reasons Wilson could have planted that knife, Nate. We won’t have all the answers until we get them both in custody.” He stood up and pulled Nate with him. “Come on. We aren’t going to solve anything by sitting here asking ‘what if.’ Besides, if we’re late for church, my mother’s going to want to know why. And if she asks, I’ll tell her we were late because I was screwing you senseless on the carpet here in our room.” Nate gave him a slight smile. “We aren’t doing anything even remotely like that.”
The First Christian Church of Reed was an architectural wonder. Built in the early nineteen-hundreds, the building looked almost like a three-story box from a distance. Only when you got closer could you appreciate the true beauty. A daylight basement made up the first level, but it was the entrance to the main level that made the place so unique. Fifteen hewn-stone steps led the way to the main sanctuary. Brandon led him up the steps and through the entry hall into the sanctuary. The entire room danced with color as the sun shone through a set of eight, twenty-foot stained-glass windows. They were all amazing, but Nathan’s favorite was a scene of the crucifixion. The craftsman had captured Jesus in all His glory and sacrifice. Nate was so intent on studying the window, he didn’t hear the man who slipped up behind him.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it? I’ve been the pastor here for over fifteen years, and I never get tired of looking at those windows. Sometimes I come here to do my morning prayers just so I can watch the light dance across the pews.”
“Walter Oakley. I’ve been meaning to come by for a visit, but autumn seems to be unusually busy for our congregation this year. Between the youth fall fundraiser and the ladies prayer group, I’ve hardly had time to drink an entire cup of coffee.” He grasped Nate’s hand with a warm smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Gale and Dean, and from Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. I get the feeling they’d be willing to add you to their family tomorrow, if possible.”
Walter Oakley was the quintessential small town preacher. He had thick graying hair, friendly hazel eyes, and little round spectacles. He was wearing robes and carrying a big black Bible. Nate grinned. “They’re a great family, no doubt about it. I couldn’t have chosen a better family to marry into. I love them all.”
Brandon and his family always sat on the first four pews from the front. Grandpa Taylor claimed God talked a little louder when you sat near the front. Grandma would then reach over and adjust the volume on his hearing aide. Whatever the reason, the habit was there. Since Megan had brought Dillon to church with her, Brandon and Nate were forced to sit on the fifth pew next to a young couple with a fussy three-month-old baby girl. All through the first three hymns and the Lord’s Supper, the baby fretted and whimpered. Brandon loved children, but he was ready to pull out his hair when the sermon started and the little darling’s whimpers turned to ear-splitting cries. The mother was doing all she could, but nothing seemed to help. Five minutes into the sermon, Nate leaned over and whispered, “May I?”
Brandon watched as Nate gently balanced the baby with his cast and used his left hand to massage several odd points across the baby’s neck, back, and legs. The little girl cooed as Nate rubbed tiny circles against her skin with one finger. Within minutes, she was asleep. The grateful mother carefully scooped the sleeping infant into her arms and gifted Nate with a brilliant smile as she watched the gentle rise and fall of her daughter’s chest. Brandon looked up and saw that the entire congregation, including Pastor Oakley, was watching Nate with a look of awe. Pastor Oakley went on to preach a brilliant sermon about the merits of peace and quiet.
After the service, a crowd gathered around Nate. The young mother said, “You were amazing. She’s never just gone to sleep like that before. At home we have to rock her, or walk with her. How did you do that?”
“I use a combination of techniques, but the one that put your baby to sleep was a modified version of acupressure. Your baby has colic, meaning her belly hurts. I simply massaged the spots that relax the muscles of the stomach. As soon as she got relief, she went to sleep.” He looked down at the beautiful little girl still sleeping in her mother’s arms. “If you’ll call or come by the office, I’ll be glad to prescribe her some drops for the discomfort.”
The father spoke up. “Forget the drops. If you’ll show us how to put her to sleep like that, you can have our next kid, no questions asked.”
While Nate talked to the parents, Keith walked up and patted Brandon on the shoulder. “Now you see why they call him Magic Touch Morris? I wasn’t exaggerating.” He gave his brother a sideways smile. “You know, he’s going to make one hell of a father some day.”
Premarital counseling wasn’t near as bad as Nate thought it would be. The three of them sat at the big oak table in the church basement. Bran and Nate sat side by side, with Pastor Oakley sitting across from them. His questions were direct, but not intrusive. He seemed satisfied that Brandon and Nate were fully committed to each other. Nate thought sure he was going to get out of the whole thing without any embarrassment. Then Brandon reached under the table and started massaging Nate’s thigh.
He did. He smiled and said, “I think I’m safe in skipping the question about whether or not you wish to abstain until marriage.” He gave them both a wicked smile. “I think we’d best get you married off, and soon. I think we can dispense with the rest of the counseling. You have my full blessing and cooperation towards your wedding.”
Nate was hoping Brandon wouldn’t say anything. He should have known better. Bran said, “Are you giving us the go ahead because you can see how much we love each other? Or, are you letting us rush things along because you’re afraid I’m going to get Nate pregnant? I can understand your worry. After all, he was a good boy until I got a hold on him.”
Sunday dinner at Grandma Taylor’s house was a Nash family tradition. Except for his brothers who were away at school, the entire family was there, including that damn Dillon, who winked at Brandon when he asked his sister to pass the jelly. The entire family was gathered around the table, engrossed in the upcoming wedding plans, especially now that Pastor Oakley had given them the go ahead. For a man who’d been basically alone for the past six years, Brandon was unbelievably proud of the way Nate handled all the attention.
Brandon groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was have another discussion about caterers and musicians. Gale wasn’t going to back down though, so he said, “Actually, we were thinking about sometime just before Christmas. Les and Randy will be home from school, and Seth will have completed his transfer by then. Leda told me when I talked to her this morning that her divorce action against Calder has already started. Hopefully, she’ll have the majority of the legal work wrapped up by then.”
