Trial by Fire (21 page)

T
he old furniture warehouse Cruz's grandfather provided for their new hiding place was musty and dirty, and had the peculiar smell of newborn rodents. It gave Jake the creeps, even though he realized it was the least of his troubles. He had noticed a difference in the way Cruz and Jennifer and the others treated him, for they weren't making plans or strategizing in front of him. They were taking all of their planning sessions into another room—LaSalle and Decareaux were now part of the inner circle—and he and Benton were left out, along with the others who hadn't earned that status.

That was fine with him, since he didn't want to be a part of any more of their crimes anyway, but Benton felt slighted. “Man, here I am hobbling on crutches, popping antibiotics and painkillers, and worried about being arrested for murder. I paid my dues, but they're still treating me like I'm not worthy of hearing their stupid plans.”

“You're better off,” Jake said. “Trust me. I'd leave if I could.”

“Why can't you? Nobody's bound and gagged you.”

“Not physically, but they sure don't let me out of their sight.” He glanced toward the closed door to the small room that had once been an office. Cruz and his confidants were huddled in there for an “executive meeting.” Grayson, Drew, and Herring sat near the door, as if guarding it from anyone coming in or going out. The girls—Blair, Meg, and Kaye—worked at a table in the corner, assembling pipe bombs that Cruz said were security measures to defend them. “I want to see what they're gonna do next,” he said. “I want to hear if they're planning to use those pipe bombs on Issie.”

“Issie
and
Nick Foster,” Benton said. “A little while ago, when they were setting up the mattresses, I heard Cruz say they're an item now. Said Issie passed out in the bar the other night, and Nick came to get her. Nick's life already wasn't worth a dime to Cruz, and now the two of them together? Issie can really pick 'em.”

Jake looked at Benton as if he was delirious. “Nick Foster, the preacher? You're outta your mind. Issie would never get hooked up with a preacher.”

“Ask Cruz,” Ben said, as if their leader's word was gospel. “And Cruz
hates
him, man. I'm surprised they didn't burn his trailer down when they hit his church. He lives right across the street from it.”

“I think they made their point with the church…whatever that point was.” He rubbed his face hard, as if to wipe off his confusion. “Man, I
have
to do something.” Jake dropped his elbows to his knees. “I bet my parents probably think I'm dead.”

“My folks probably
hope
I am,” Benton said.

“No, they don't.”

“You're right,” Benton said. “They probably haven't given me enough thought to care one way or another.” He sat down and propped his leg on another chair. “My kid brother's probably freakin' out, though. He worries a lot.”

“Maybe you could get a message to him that you're all right. Maybe he could go tell my folks. Maybe warn Issie.”

Benton looked toward the room where Cruz and Jennifer were. “No, I better not. If they found out, they might think I was turnin' on them.”

Jake knew they already thought that about him. He was still uneasy about what they might do eventually. First chance he got, he was out of here, and the more he knew when he left, the better. Then maybe he could head off some of the damage they were planning to do.

B
y the next morning Issie had almost talked herself out of going to the church service, even though she had given Nick her word that she would be there. She didn't know what to wear, for she owned very few dresses, but she went home long enough to sift through her various skirts and blouses, and finally came up with something that she felt was appropriate.

Then she worried about how to act. Did they kneel when they started the service? Maybe not out in the yard, she thought. Did they chant things she wouldn't know the words to? And what about singing? Should she just stand there and let everyone know she didn't know the first word—as if that would come as a surprise to anyone—or should she try to hum along and pretend she did? And what if they did something hokey like look at their neighbor and quote some Scripture she didn't know, hug, and say, “I love you”?

She wondered if she would be better off staying home. She found a million reasons to do so as she showered. She didn't feel well. Her muscles ached from her work yesterday. She had some reading to catch up on, friends to visit, a nephew to search for.

Yet tugging equally at her mind were the memories of Nick's excitement yesterday when she told him she would be there. It seemed to mean a lot to him, though she couldn't imagine why. The thought that he might like being around her as much as she enjoyed being with him seemed unfathomable to her. Still, she wanted to explore it a little more, and she remembered the feeling of belonging she had had yesterday working among the people of his church, and Allie's forgiveness and invitation to help set up for the service. She had worked hard. She wanted to see the fruit of her labor.

Finally deciding that she needed a friend to go with her, she picked up the phone and dialed Karen Insminger. It rang four times before the phone was answered.

“Hello.” Karen sounded hoarse, and Issie knew she had pulled her out of a sound sleep.

“Karen, it's me, Issie.”

“What do you want?” she asked, irritated. “I was sleeping.”

“Then you shouldn't have answered the phone,” Issie teased.

Karen didn't find that amusing. “This better be important, Issie.”

Issie chuckled. “Well, I guess important is relative. I wanted to see if you would go to church with me.”

“Church?” Karen started coughing as if the shock had been too much for her. “Excuse me. I thought you said ‘church.”

“I did, actually.”

“I'm sorry,” Karen said. “I must have really been out of it. I thought you said this was Issie.”

“All right,” Issie said. “So you don't want to go. All you have to do is say so.”

“I don't want to go,” Karen returned. “So, what's this all about anyway?”

“Well, it's the church that burned down the other day. Calvary Bible Church. I sort of helped them clear the land yesterday and everybody kept inviting me. And I've gotten to be pretty close friends with Nick Foster, the preacher.”

“Issie, you're not after him, are you?”

Karen had heard the rumors, Issie thought. She wondered if all the medics sat around when she wasn't with them, speculating about her love life. “Don't you people have anything more exciting to think about?”

“I've just never known you to be interested in church, that's all. The only thing that could possibly get you there is a man.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“So, is that it?”

“No,” Issie told her. “He's just a nice man. He's helped me. And also there's that community support kind of thing. The church burned down, but it didn't stop them from having services out on Aunt Aggie's lawn, and I just kind of feel like I ought to be there, just to show support.”

“Oh, yeah, that's you,” Karen said. “Little Miss Community.”

Issie regretted calling. “I guess I've got my answer. Go back to sleep.”

Karen had hung up even before she'd gotten the word “Bye” out, and Issie wondered why she had even bothered. Then, with her stomach in her throat, she headed out to her pickup to attend church for the first time in her life.

She was a few minutes late for the service, and as she pulled back up to Aunt Aggie's, she found a parking place in an empty lot beside her house. A couple of guys she knew from town waved her into a space.

She sat in her truck for a minute and rolled down her window, listening for any sounds that might clue her not to go to where the congregation was gathered. She heard the sound of a keyboard and a couple of guitars. Guitars in a church service? Then she realized that this was Nick's church. Nick probably had some of his personality tied up in it. Maybe it wasn't quite as stuffed shirt as she had imagined.

She eased out of the truck and looked down toward the congregation. So many people had come that they were setting up extra chairs. She hoped Nick was encouraged by that.

She saw that someone was standing up front and singing, a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Maybe now wasn't such a bad time to go in.

She closed her door quietly, then walked through the cars and made her way down to the yard near Aunt Aggie's house. When she saw that there was standing room only at the back behind the chairs, she decided she would just stay there. That way she could slink out if she felt the need to. But before she had a chance to get used to her position, three different men had stood up and waved for her to come sit in their place.

She started to shake her head, thank them very much and tell them no, that she would stay right where she was, when she met Nick's eyes from the front of the gathering. He smiled at her and waved for her to come up and sit down in an empty seat near the front.

She dipped her head, looking at the ground as she made her way up, wishing no one here knew who she was. She imagined she heard gasps as she walked up the grassy aisle, people shocked that Issie Mattreaux had come into the presence of the Lord. Lightning would probably strike the whole assembly. The sun would be darkened and Nick would be struck dumb. If there was a God, he sure didn't want the likes of Issie Mattreaux in his house, even if it wasn't a house anymore.

She took her seat and looked up to see that she was next to Dan and Jill Nichols. Jill patted Issie's arm. “Glad to see you here,” she said. Issie just nodded.

When the girl stopped singing, Nick came to the front and grabbed one of the guitars. Issie's eyebrows came up as she watched him begin to play a chorus of “Amazing Grace.” She didn't know where she had learned it, but somewhere in her past that song had become part of her consciousness. She couldn't make herself mouth the words, but as the others around her sang, she began to hum along.

The familiar sound of that tune was like a soothing balm to her soul. She couldn't imagine why she would respond so to it. She had never really concentrated on the words before, but now she listened, wondering why a song like this would be handed down from age to age, generation to generation, and why it would still be so popular.

She saw some of the people singing it with their eyes closed as if the song itself was a prayer that rose straight to heaven.

C
ruz and Jennifer had heard about the work done at the church site the day before, and all the people who had turned out for it. They'd heard about Nick Foster working right there along with the others, and the fact that the church burning had drawn the congregation together, instead of scattering them apart. And from the signs posted all over town, they'd learned about the church service on Aunt Aggie's lawn.

“Right up here, take a right,” Jennifer said. “Where the cars are.”

Driving the black van he'd borrowed from Decareaux, Cruz slowed down as he saw the cars parked on the side of the road. His eyes squinted as he came up beside the bowl-shaped lawn and saw the hundreds of people in folding chairs, worshiping in song.

He stopped the car and rolled his window down. The strains of “Amazing Grace” flew on the breeze. “You believe this?” he asked his sister. “There're more people here than they usually have on Sundays.”

Jennifer pointed down to Nick, standing at the front of the crowd. “Look at Nick Foster. Standin' down there like they're worshipin'
him
or somethin'.”

Cruz drove on, his face twisted as he tried to think it through. “So the church burnin' didn't phase 'em. They're stronger than ever. Nick Foster wasn't even affected.”

“We have to do somethin' else,” Jennifer said. “We can't let him win.”

Cruz's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove faster. “Oh, we're gonna do somethin' else, all right,” he said. “We'll show Nick Foster. And this time there won't be one black kid dead.”

Jennifer's eyebrows lifted, and her eyes shone with the same light he'd seen in his mother's eyes when they were kids and his grandfather was preparing to go on one of his missions. “What are we gonna do?”

“We'll send people back over to mingle with them when they break up, and find out what they can about their next service. And then we're gonna be there to surprise them.”

W
hen they had ended “Amazing Grace,” Nick led them into a chorus of a faster song that Issie had never heard before, and those around her clapped their hands and sang along.

There was joy here, she realized, even though their building had just burned down and one of their families had lost a son. How could they find joy after that? She had expected a service of mourning, a service full of guilt, but instead, she felt the love of the people around her.

When it finally came time for Nick to give his sermon, he put the guitar on its stand and headed to the microphone at the front of the group. For the first time in her life, Issie Mattreaux heard the gospel of Jesus Christ presented in a way that couldn't be denied.

When he ended the service with a prayer of repentance and acceptance of Jesus Christ, she felt her spirit fighting her mind for control. She wasn't ready to pray with him, because she wasn't sure she believed it could all be that easy. But she listened to every word, contemplating what it meant. And just before Nick led them in the amen, Issie whispered a prayer to Christ. “I don't know if you're there, but if you are, you're going to have to prove it to me.”

She knew it was probably blasphemous, probably something that didn't please God. She knew that people said he wasn't a God to be tested, but she wasn't sure he was God at all. How could she be sure he wasn't just some figment of these people's imaginations that they clung to because they were weak?

But as she looked up at the congregation which had already burst into song again, she realized that she was the one who was weak, and these people had a rare strength that she had scarcely seen in her life. Something inside her yearned to have that kind of strength.

She didn't know why tears came to her eyes at that very moment as people around her were singing and praising God, but she found them rolling down her cheeks, and she wiped them away as quickly as they came. She saw that Jill had noticed she was crying, and she looked as if she didn't know what to do for Issie.

Issie thought she had to get out of there, had to get in her truck and drive away where she could cry in peace, or wipe from her mind whatever it was that had started her crying in the first place. She reached down for her purse, but Jill touched her back.

“Don't leave,” Jill whispered. “We're having lunch right out here after the service. I really wish you'd come.”

Issie wanted to ask her why, but something made her really want to stay, so she let go of her purse and sat up straight. She told herself she would just have to fight the tears and get through this morning. Something told her it would be worth it.

 

A
s the church service broke up, Nick found Issie in the crowd. He tried to get to her so that he could invite her for lunch, but people kept coming up to him and giving him hugs, telling him it was going to be all right, that they didn't need a building to worship the Lord. The Holy Spirit's glory had not abandoned them.

He needed to hear those words, but he also needed to get close to Issie to make sure she stayed. She needed to be wrapped in the fellowship of these people. She needed to know what it was to be around those who trusted in Christ.

But the real reason he wanted to get close to her was to see if she had prayed the sinner's prayer with him. He had led the congregation in it just for her, but he'd had no indication that she had prayed it with him. It was suddenly very important that he find out if she had.

He cut through the group and found Issie standing with Jill and Dan. He was surprised that she hadn't made her way out yet. “Issie, I'm so glad you came,” he said, in his best preacher voice. “I thought for a while you weren't going to.”

She smiled up at him. Her eyes looked wet, red. He had seen her crying, and it had given him hope. “Sorry I was late.”

“So, give me your best shot,” he said. “How was it?”

“Not as bad as I thought,” she said.

He looked wounded. “Is that all?”

She laughed softly. “You'd know what a compliment that was if you knew what I'd been expecting.”

“Is it something about my personality that told you I was a terrible preacher?”

“No, not the preaching,” she said. “I just hadn't been to a church service before. The only time I've even darkened the door of a church is when I went to a wedding or a funeral.”

“Well, we'll have to keep you coming long enough to darken the door of ours when we get it built,” he said. “So how about staying for lunch?”

Issie shrugged. “I was thinking about it, but I didn't bring a covered dish or anything.”

“Don't worry about it. Aunt Aggie made enough for a dozen people. In our whole history of covered dishes, we've never had a shortage.”

“All right,” she said. “I guess I'll stay.”

Issie forgot the tension with which she had approached church this morning, and as she ate lunch and fellowshiped with the people, most of whom she'd known all her life, she found that there was no judgment or condemnation among those who surrounded her. A few snubbed her, but overall, she didn't get the general impression that people were asking what a woman like Issie Mattreaux would be doing among them.

Finally, she realized there were so many people there that most had probably not noticed her. She sat on a lawn chair that Nick had brought for her to use, and tried to fight the feeling that she was special, that the preacher had singled her out to pay special attention to. But that was silly. It wasn't as if he was singling her out because she was an attractive woman. It had a lot more to do with her soul than she wanted to admit.

She scanned the crowd looking for people who might be whispering about her, when she saw two young faces milling in the crowd. She had seen them before. They had been there when she treated Benton's leg the other night. Her heart tripped into race mode, and she sprang up and started toward them. They must have seen her coming, for they put their backs to her and started to walk away. She broke into a trot, but they went faster, threading through cars and getting far away from the crowd. Finally, she caught up to them. “Hey, you!”

The boys turned around. “Yeah?” They were both wearing jeans and wrinkled T-shirts, and she knew they hadn't been in the service or she would have noticed.

“You were at the Benton house last night. You know my nephew. Where is he? Where's Jake Mattreaux?”

“I don't know any Jake Mattreaux,” one of them said.

“You're lying,” she told them. “I know you're lying. Where is he?”

They both stared at her, their faces suddenly serious. A chill went through her, and she realized she shouldn't have gotten so far from the crowd, not when their group had tried to kill her just days ago.

“I'm warning you,” she said, stepping into her paramedic personality and approaching them as she would if she were in uniform. “I want you to listen to me. If anything happens to my nephew, so help me, I will spend the rest of my life searching for you and making you pay. Do you understand me?”

They didn't seem amused at her bravado, yet she knew they had not taken it seriously. But without another word, they both turned and walked away. Quickly, she searched the parked cars for the truck she'd been driving and ran to get into it. She could follow them. She could follow them and let them lead her to Jake.

She pulled the truck out of its place, then made the block and saw the two boys in a white Ford Escort. They were pulled over to the side of the road a couple of blocks from the church, and two other kids were getting in.

Where had they all been? Why had they been at the church? What were they up to?

She hung back, staying out of their sight, until they were on their way. Then she followed them, hoping they would lead her to Jake.