Trial by Fire (16 page)

S
unlight shone through Nick's window as he lay in his own bed, staring at the ceiling. Issie had gone to work today, so he had gone home to catch up on some things. He hadn't slept well in Aunt Aggie's guest room, so he tried to rest now. He'd had several visitors today, all with food, but hadn't had an appetite. He had finally felt so exhausted that he'd put a note on the front door that he was sleeping, and had gone to bed. The soreness had settled in, but the pain was not as great as the depression cloaking itself over his soul. Issie's lure last night, along with the state of his church, had driven his spirits to ground level.

He heard tires on his gravel driveway and pulled up enough to look out the window. Dan Nichols was getting out of the car. He hadn't seen the note yet. Nick dropped back down on the bed. Should he go to the door? he wondered. Dan, after all, was more than part of his flock. He was one of his closest friends.

He got up and limped to the front door and opened it just as Dan started to turn to leave. “I'm up,” he said wearily. “Come on in, Dan.”

Dan came in and closed the door behind him as Nick went to his recliner and slowly lowered himself into it. “You don't look so good,” he said. “You need to be in bed.”

Nick almost laughed, but he didn't find it very funny.

Dan sat down on the couch across from Nick. “You looked pretty rough at the station yesterday, but you look worse now. Are you all right?”

“I'm okay,” Nick said.

Dan cocked his head. “Come on, Nick. You can be straight with me. You look like you're in pain.”

“I'm fine,” he said, irritated. “My side is kind of sore, and the burns aren't feeling so great. Throat hurts. But my real problem is that I stayed at Aunt Aggie's last night and didn't sleep well.” He chose not to mention that Issie had been there too.

“So Aunt Aggie's been taking care of you?”

“Some,” he said.

“Good,” he said.

“So what brings you by?”

“I thought you could use some good news.”

“Good news,” Nick said, as if that was a concept he hadn't thought of in a while. “Yeah, hit me with some good news.”

“We have a place for you to preach on Sunday.”

He moaned. “Dan, I'm not up to preaching.”

“Then we'll get a guest preacher, or one of us'll do it. We were a church before we had that building, Nick. We're still a church. Remember, we used to have worship right here in this trailer when there were only ten or twelve of us that came.”

Nick looked around and remembered all the places they had found to cram chairs. It had worked for a while until they'd been able to put up a makeshift structure on the church property, then raised enough money to build the permanent one. It was all wasted, he supposed.

“So where do you plan on having this service?” Nick asked.

“In Aunt Aggie's yard. We're renting chairs from Buzz Brady, and we'll sit out there and worship in the breeze under the sun, and people up and down the streets are going to hear us and want to join in.”

Nick breathed a laugh. “Sounds a little optimistic.”

“It's called faith, Nick. You remember that.”

Nick received the barb as it was intended, and swallowed hard.

“You sure you don't want to preach?” Dan asked. “I know you're hoarse and your throat hurts, but I can't help thinking that getting back in the saddle will do you more good than harm.”

Nick thought it over for a moment. He was jealous of his pulpit, and never liked to have anyone take his place. Maybe he'd feel differently by then. “I don't know,” he said. “Maybe I could come up with something.”

Dan leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Look, Nick, I know you're depressed. I know you're upset and feeling defeated, but we need you, man. You're our leader, and we need for you to lead us. A lot of the congregation doesn't know what to do. They're all distraught. But sometimes this kind of thing makes us stronger, you know? You're the one who taught us that.”

Nick let the words sink in. Maybe Dan was right. Maybe God had allowed this tragedy for a reason. They'd been praying for a revival, but he had not expected God to bring it with a fire and a murder. He hadn't expected it to come with so much pain.

He blinked back the mist in his eyes. “Dan, I want to do the right thing. I want to do what God wants me to do. I'm just not sure that preaching is it anymore.”

“Why was your call last week so much different than it is this week?”

“Maybe it's not,” Nick said. “Maybe I was never called in the first place. Maybe I was just kidding myself.”

“How do you grow a congregation from a dozen people to two hundred and not really be called? Nick, I can't believe you're questioning this when it's so clear in my mind.”

Nick's eyes softened as he fixed his gaze on Dan.

“Nick, I don't even think you realize what an opportunity we've been given. Something really special might happen because of this fire. And even the murder. You know what they say about the Christian's blood being seed. At the funeral, I just know that Ray and Susan are going to want the gospel presented in some way. They're not going to let Ben die without his death bearing some kind of fruit.”

“I wouldn't know,” he said. “I don't even know the guy who's preaching it. I don't know what he believes. And the last I heard from Susan, she's not on speaking terms with God.”

Dan sighed. “She's upset and lashing out, but she'll come through it. Are you going to the funeral?”

“Probably. It'll be weird not preaching it. There's so much I'd like to say about Ben. He was a good kid.” He rubbed his face roughly. “Aw, Dan, I think God's talking to me. Telling me it's time to pass the baton. But I just keep thinking about all the people I never reached. There are still so many I've been praying for. Issie Mattreaux, and some of the other paramedics. Some of the guys at the station. My father…He never even heard me preach…It's so hard to believe that the ministry is over, just like that.”

“It's not over,” Dan said. “Nick, you've got to believe that. It's not. God still has a purpose and a plan for you, and for our whole congregation. And our church burning down is not going to take that away.”

But somehow the fire…and Issie Mattreaux…had blurred Nick's vision. Nothing was clear anymore.

J
ake hadn't expected to be at the hospital so long. The emergency team started Benton on an IV of antibiotics and cleaned and stitched up his leg. It had taken hours for the bag to empty so that they would release him.

Benton had crutches by the time they left, but was so weak that he could hardly walk on them. As he got into the car, he held up a hand for Jake to high-five. “We did it, man. Pulled the wool over their eyes.”

Jake wasn't so sure. They had asked a lot of questions and caught them lying about their names. When they'd finally demanded identification before they would treat them, they'd realized they were both minors. They had called Benton's dad, and the man had taken his time getting there. He'd been steeped in hang-over pain, and refusing to believe their story, had cussed Benton out for tangling with anyone who had a knife. When he hadn't been needed anymore, he had taken off, leaving Benton to ride home with Jake.

If Jake knew Benton's old man, he was probably planning to stop off at the nearest bar.

Jake was worn out by the time they got back in the car. “That's it,” he said, starting the car. “I'm sick of Cruz. Look what he did to you, man.”

“I'm okay,” Benton said. “He didn't mean nothin'. We were all drunk.”

“Well, he could have killed you. I'm going back to get my drums, that's all. I'm quitting.”

“Man, you can't quit. It's my grandmother's house they're practically living in! I'm stuck. You're the one got me into this. I don't want to hang with them if you're not.”

“Then throw them out.”

“Oh, right,” Benton said. “I'll just hobble up on my crutches and threaten them. They'll be runnin' scared, all right. Are you crazy? Besides, what I did to that kid last night makes me part of them whether I like it or not.”

Jake knew he was right. “He's not gonna be happy that we went to the hospital. But at least maybe he'll be afraid to do anything to us. The thought that anyone knows anything might stop him. We can say that we didn't tell them anything, but that we're afraid they're on to us now, that they need to find another place to meet just to be safe. Then, after they move all their stuff out, we can just phase out.”

“It won't be that easy, man. What if they use me for a scapegoat and tell the cops what I did?”

Jake knew he had a point. He tried to turn it all over in his mind as he drove. “All right, then. Let's just face this head on. We'll go back to the house and tell Cruz we went to the hospital. We won't say anything about them being onto us, because you're right, they'll get even. We'll just hang on for as long as we can until we make sure he doesn't trash the house. And I need to find out about Issie. I'm worried about her, man. I tried calling her all night.”

“She's dead,” Benton said. “No way Cruz let her get away.”

Jake slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Don't say that! She
can't
be dead. She can take care of herself. She's tough, man. We would have heard if he got her.”

“Then why wasn't she home all night?”

Jake shook his head. “I don't know.”

“If they didn't kill her already, they will.”

“Shut up, okay?” Jake said. “Just shut up!” He rounded the curve leading to Benton's grandmother's street, and caught his breath. Police cars lined both sides of the street.

“They're onto us,” he said. “They found the house.” Still far enough away that he might not draw attention, he made a U-turn and headed back the other way. “Man, I can't believe this. They're going through the house. Maybe they arrested Cruz and the others.”

Benton started to sweat. “You think they know about me? What I helped do to that kid?”

“I don't know. But your old man probably woulda said something, if they'd been looking for you. Don't you think?”

“We can't be sure.” He twisted in his seat and tried to see if anyone was following them. “I can't go home,” he said. “I can't let them arrest me, Jake. They'll try me as an adult, and I'll never make it in prison. Man, I can't go down for
murder.
What was I thinking? Why did I let her talk me into that? I killed a guy to impress Jennifer, and now I'm going to prison…”

Benton was getting on Jake's nerves. “Where can we go? We can't just drive around all day.”

“The compound,” Benton said. “If they weren't arrested, that's where they'll be.”

He thought of Cruz's grandfather's deer camp, which they were converting into a secure compound where they could all live. It was far from ready. The water had been cut off, and there was no air conditioning or electricity. He couldn't imagine them staying there. But he didn't have any other ideas.

“I can still get out of town,” Benton said. “I can just run.”

“With what? You don't have any money. You're sixteen. What will you live on?”

“I can do odd jobs on the road.”

“Get real, man. You're gonna take off by yourself, with that leg?”

Benton wiped his face, then slammed his hand on the dashboard. “You think Cruz can keep us safe? Hidden? You think we can trust him?”

“No,
we can't trust him. Are you crazy? He cut you with a switchblade, Benton!”

“But he was just overreacting. Most of the time he's a great guy. And if all that stuff Jennifer says about him is true, about coming into his kingdom…”

“Give me a break! I'm trying to find him for one reason, and that's to find out where Issie is, and what's going on with the cops. He is not some messiah, and I'm not going to follow him!”

“But he's the only one who can save us,” Benton was rambling. “He's the only one who knows and understands the cause and has our best interests at heart and…”

Jake was beginning to sweat, too, even though his air conditioner blew out as hard as it would. He wished Benton would shut up. He turned down the dirt road leading to the deer camp, and navigated his way through the trees and over a shaky bridge, until he came to the rotting old structure that Cruz was going to turn into Fort Knox.

He saw two pickup trucks backed up to the door. Cruz, Jennifer, Redmon, and Graham were carrying chairs and mattresses out to the truck beds.

“There he is, that jerk!” Jake slammed the car into park.

“What are you gonna do?” Benton asked. “You're not gonna get out waving your fists and cussing them out, are you? Because you ain't speaking for me.”

“Fine,” Jake said. “Then speak for yourself.” He got out of the car and slammed the door. Cruz and Graham dropped the mattress into the truck bed and turned to look at him. “Where's my aunt?” he demanded. “What did you do to her?”

Jennifer came around the truck. “You mean, what did
she
do to us?” she asked. “She shot at us, Jake. She's crazy. She almost killed me.” She pulled her hair back and showed the bandage on her forehead.

“Then she's alive?” he asked.

“Of course she's alive,” Cruz said, in a maddeningly calm voice. “What did you think I'd do? Kill her?” He smiled that charismatic smile he had that disarmed people so quickly, but he didn't disarm Jake.

Jake wasn't sure he believed him. “Yeah, actually,” he said. “Call me crazy, but when you chased out after her waving your shotgun, I couldn't help thinking that.”

“Well, I didn't, okay? But she turned the cops onto us and they're looking for us. So now we have to set up a hiding place. We've got a place. They'll never look for us there, but we needed the mattresses and chairs that are in this place.”

“They're swarming all over Benton's grandmother's house,” Jake said.

“I know,” Cruz said. “They've been hounding our mother, but we hid out last night in an old hiding place my granddaddy and his Klansmen used to use.”

Benton got out of the car and balanced on one leg. Afraid he was going to step on his bad leg and burst the stitches, Jake angrily opened the door of his car and jerked the crutches out of the backseat. He thrust them at Benton, daring Cruz to ask about them.

Benton looked at them as if Jake had somehow betrayed him.

“Where'd you get those?” Cruz asked.

Benton gave Jake a sick, frightened look.

Jake was ready. “Man, this morning Benton woke me up moaning, and he was practically delirious. He had a fever so high I thought he was gonna croak on us. Leg was swollen up like a tree trunk.”

Cruz looked suspiciously at Benton's leg. “So what did you do?”

“Took him to the hospital in Slidell. Don't worry, we didn't tell them how it happened. We made up a story.”

“They bought it?” Cruz asked.

“Yeah, man,” Benton said, wobbling weakly. “Not like it's a gunshot wound or nothin'.”

Cruz's face softened, and he looked down at Benton's leg. “Man, I am so sorry. I owe you big time. You're a hero, man, for what you did last night. Now that Jenn has explained your part in things, I can't believe what I did to you.”

Benton shot Jake a surprised look, then brought his bloodshot eyes back to Cruz. “Man, it's no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Jake spouted. “Benton, this guy
stabbed
you!”

Benton looked torn in two. “He didn't mean it, Jake. I'm gonna be okay.”

Cruz's jaw popped as he brought his dull glare up to Jake. “I'm sensing a lack of commitment from you, Mattreaux. You ain't thinking about turning on us like your aunt, are you? Because you should know that they're looking for you, too. They're trying to round all of us up today. You're as guilty as any of us.”

“Hey, I didn't kill anybody.”

“But you were part of the group that did. Now, we have a new hiding place if you want to stick with us. We have a new plan for getting ourselves out of all this, and you, too. If you decide to stay with us, no hard feelings.”

“And if I don't?”

Jennifer came closer, her eyes as hard as Cruz's. “Don't bolt, Jake. It wouldn't be wise.”

“Is that a threat?”

“You could say that,” she said. “Yeah, that's just what it is.”

“So why do you want me with you?” he asked, knowing that they didn't care if he lived or died, as long as he didn't talk.

“Maybe we want to keep an eye on our potential turncoats,” Cruz said. “Or maybe we think you've got the kind of backbone we need. Maybe we're ready to bring you in.”

“Bring me in where?”

“To the inner circle. No more secrets from either of you guys.”

Jake thought of that inner circle—Cruz, Jennifer, Graham, and Redmon. They were the very ones who had committed the first murder. Now that Benton had killed, too, were they going to honor him with this? “Benton killed an innocent black kid last night to please Jennifer,” he said. “He's already
in
your pathetic ‘inner circle.'”

“Everybody has to pay their dues,” Cruz said.

“So what are the dues?” Jake asked. “How many bodies?”

Jake's tone made Cruz angrier. “Either you're committed to our cause, Mattreaux, or you're not. Make up your mind.”

Jake squinted. “So what
is
the cause again? I forget, since the first one was about getting that preacher, and the second one was about throwing the cops off.”

Cruz's lips grew taut over his teeth. “I don't like your tone, man.”

Jennifer sashayed closer to Jake in that way she had, and slid her arm around his shoulders. “It's a holy war, Jake. Superiority of our race. God's fight.
Rahowa.”

Jake stepped out of her reach. “It's not ‘superior' to kill a thirteen-year-old kid who didn't do anything wrong. And what kind of statement did Ben Ford's death make? I mean, if you want it to change something, what did it change? Are you expecting the blacks to line up in a convoy and leave town? All that guy did wrong was go get something to eat late at night. You waylaid him in the parking lot, beat him to a pulp, put a bullet through his brain, and left him to burn in his own church. For what? Man, you
know
you just wanted to get at that preacher.”

Cruz was getting angrier now, and he came over to Jake and put his face intimidatingly close to his. Jake's cheeks mottled with heat, but he didn't step back. “You know what your problem is, Mattreaux? You're not a visionary. You're a follower. Leave the planning to me, and you just do as I say. I'm the one who sees the whole picture. I'm the one with the plan.”

“Okay, fine,” Jake said through his teeth, finally backing away. When adequate distance was between them, he asked, “So…just explain to me how Ben Ford's death helped the cause.”

“There's one fewer mud person walking around. The world is automatically a better place.”

Jake wanted to throw up. But why, he wasn't sure. He wasn't a brotherly love kind of guy, and it wasn't his style to champion a principle. Was he truly concerned about Ben Ford, or about the lies being told to keep them all committed? Or was it fear of prison, or bitterness about what they had done to Benton? Maybe it was all of it together. “I guess I'm just wondering why you picked Ben Ford, and not some drug addict or pimp or loser who beats his wife and kids? Why Ben Ford, who was educated, worked, minded his own business?”

“Because he was there,” Cruz said. “And he was black. Those were the only two reasons I needed.”

“So how many more are you going to kill?”

“However many I need to.”

They all grew quiet, and Jake realized all eyes were on him. They were assessing him to see if he was worthy to be called one of them. He told himself he was not. “Well…I didn't come into this group to commit capital murder and wind up on death row. I came to play drums. That's all.”