SEVEN

The Good News and the Bad News

VICKI had listened intently during Bruce’s training sessions with his new young charges, and she had wondered if she was up to a task like this. She was not prepared to lead someone to Christ just yet, though she agreed with Bruce that there could be no higher privilege for a Christian.

She was brand-new in the faith, and she had already been grounded in the basics, but she really hoped Bruce would arrive soon and take over with Josey Fogarty. Silently, Vicki prayed earnestly. Her major request was that Bruce bail her out. But short of that, she pleaded with God to remind her of the verses, to give her the words to say, to assure that she would say whatever she was supposed to say and avoid whatever she was not supposed to say. The last thing she wanted was to somehow mislead this precious woman who so desperately wanted to come to God. Vicki didn’t know what all that New Age stuff was that Josey had talked about, but she sure knew it was not part of the true gospel as she knew it.

Vicki didn’t want to stall any longer when it was obvious how ready Josey was. So once she had established that Josey knew her position before God and how it could change, she plunged ahead. When she was finished explaining how to pray and receive Christ and Josey bowed her head and closed her eyes, Vicki glanced at Ryan. She was encouraged to see a look on his face of wonder, of emotion, of encouragement to her. It was as if he told her with his eyes that he felt privileged to be there.

Vicki asked Josey if she wanted her to lead her in the prayer of acceptance of Christ, and Josey surprised her. “You know, hon, I don’t think so. I think this is somethin’ I got to do for myself. If God loves me and cares about me personally, like you say, I want to talk to him myself. So I think I’ll just start in.”

Vicki lowered her head and listened.

“God,” Josey whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “you know I’ve been looking for you for years, and I’m glad to hear you’ve been looking for me too. I know I’m supposed to start by telling you I know I’m a sinner and that I need you. Part of me always wanted to do good and be known as a nice person, but I knew myself then and I know myself now. I’ve never been able to be the kind of person I know you would want me to be. Thank you for dying for my sins and for forgiving me. Forgive me for not being ready when you came for your people. If you will accept me, and I believe that you will, I offer you the rest of my life.”

Vicki wept as she heard Josey go on to pray for Steve and Tom. And for her sons. She prayed for Eddie. She prayed for “these three kids I’ve just met and for the one I haven’t met. And for their pastor.”

Vicki thought it the most impressive prayer she’d ever heard, especially coming from someone who was taking her first step as a believer. Josey ended by saying, “I don’t even know how to sign off, so I’ll just say good-bye and I’ll be talking to you again soon. Amen.”

Vicki looked up through her tears as Josey sat there, her cheeks wet too. “Was that all right?” she asked, timidly.

“That was perfect,” Vicki said, and they hugged each other. Ryan looked on, appearing to be fighting tears too.

“C’mere, Ryan!” Josey said, opening her arms wide. He rushed to her, and the three of them embraced.

Judd wondered how long Tom Fogarty would wait for the doctor to emerge from Eddie Edwards’s hospital room. He was worried Tom would just barge in. Instead Tom approached the nurses’ station around the corner. “Is there some reason we’re getting no hard information from the doctors about Detective Edwards?” he asked.

The woman in charge looked sternly at him. “And you are . . . ?”

Tom showed her his badge and told her. She glanced down the hall and removed a chart from a rack. She motioned him closer with a nod and glared at Judd as he also approached, but Tom said, “He’s with me.”

She flipped open the chart. “We’re talking about Edwards, Archibald, are we not?” she whispered.

Tom nodded.

“We are off the record, sir, and nothing you hear from me should be considered official or final or quotable. Is that understood?” Tom saluted her. “You’re not related, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Because a next of kin would not want to hear this. I’m not a doctor, you understand, but I’ve been an R.N. for thirty-five years and I can read a chart. This man is not going to regain consciousness, and that’s the kindest thing God can do for him at this point, short of just taking him.”

“Ma’am?”

“You sounded like you wanted the truth, young man. I’m giving it to you. This patient took—” she began reading—“ ‘a high-speed, hollow-point, nine-millimeter shell to the cheekbone from less than six feet away, fired from a Beretta service revolver.’ ”

“A Beretta is not a revolver,” Fogarty said, “but otherwise I’m following you.”

“I’m just tellin’ you what it says. I’m no firearms expert. What I understand is that this bullet is made that way for maximum speed and shattering ability upon impact.”

Tom nodded, looking glum.

She read again. “ ‘The bullet entered at an acute, nearly vertical angle, passing just under the right cheekbone and bursting into fragments that destroyed the olfactory canal, the entire right eye socket, and extending into the frontal lobe of the brain before exiting through the top of the skull.’ ”

She let her reading glasses slip off and dangle at the end of the strap around her neck. “Need I be more specific?”

Fogarty shook his head. “It’ll be more merciful, as you say, if he passes. Am I right?”

“I’m afraid so, son. I’m sorry.”

Tom thanked her and turned away, and Judd noticed he walked stiffly, as if he had to plot each step. “You want something to pray about, Holy Joe?” he said. “You pray Eddie Edwards dies before his family has to see him like that.”

Judd didn’t want to pray for that at all. He wanted a miracle. He wanted that man who had just hours before seemed so interested in the things of God to regain consciousness, to know how close he came to death, to be spurred to take action now and receive Christ.

As he and Fogarty went back around the corner, the doctors and the nurse emerged from Edwards’s room. They were met by the same heavyset detective who had been in on the sting that day and had been with them in the diner. “There’s Willis,” Fogarty said. He looked grave.

“I’m the ranking officer here,” Willis told the doctor. “And I want to tell these cops something concrete.”

“Is there a next of kin?” the doctor said quietly.

“Oh, no,” Willis said.

“Come on, sir, we’ve all been through this before. I can’t be making statements the next of kin have not heard.”

“Tell me and I will tell the next of kin.”

The doctor pulled a notepad from his pocket. He spoke so softly that only Willis, Fogarty, and Judd could have heard him. “Time of death, 8:55 p.m.”

The doctor moved away, and the sea of cops surged toward Detective Willis. “You people are to be back on the street immediately. We will broadcast an update in fifteen minutes. Be somewhere where you can hear it.”

“Is he dead?” someone called out.

“Don’t start acting like the press,” Willis growled. “Now get going!”

Lionel and Bruce were near Judd’s home when the report came over the radio about the jailbreak attempt a few hours before. “An update on that story,” the newsman said, “is that the police officer wounded in the brief shoot-out fights for his life at this hour.”

Lionel and Bruce looked at each other. “Unbelievable,” Bruce muttered. He asked Lionel to call Judd’s house and tell them to turn on the news.

“Lionel!” Ryan said, blurting all the news at once. “Judd and Tom went to see the cop shot in the escape thing, and Tom’s wife is here and she just prayed to accept Jesus, and—”

“We’re on our way, Ryan,” Lionel said.

Judd sat stunned in the quiet car as Tom drove him back from Chicago. Judd was frustrated that he had not been able to talk to Eddie about God when he had seemed so interested. How many other ways did God have to use to show him that no one was guaranteed any time anymore? They had driven almost an hour before Tom spoke.

“Explain that one to me,” he said, “if you know the mind of God so well.”

“I never claimed that, Mr. Fogarty, but it’s sure a lesson, isn’t it?”

“Yeah? What’s the moral of this story?”

“Don’t wait. If you’re curious about God, don’t put off finding out about him.”

“So a great young cop dies to warn me to find God? I don’t think so.”

Judd knew Fogarty was in too much pain to be reasoned with just then, so he fell silent. Tom turned on the radio when they reached the suburbs and soon heard the news they had known before anyone else. When they pulled into the driveway at Judd’s, Bruce’s car was in the driveway. “I want you to meet this guy,” Judd said, assuming Tom would at least come in to get his wife.

“I really don’t feel like seeing anyone right now,” Tom said. “Would you mind just sending Josey out?”

Judd hesitated, then said, “Sure.”

As he was getting out of the car, Tom called out to him. “Judd, I’m sorry if I took this out on you a little. I don’t want you to lose your faith or anything.”

Judd didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and ran into the house. There he found everyone beaming and was quickly filled in on what had happened to Josey. She was sitting with an arm around Lionel, whom she had finally met and who was looking pleased but uncomfortable with her attention.

“I hate to be the one with the bad news, Mrs. Fogarty and everyone,” Judd said, “but your husband’s waiting for you in the car, and he’s pretty upset over Eddie’s death.”

Josey’s smile faded as fast as it had come. “Oh, no,” she said, over and over. And she hurried toward the door.

“Take a minute and let us pray for you,” Bruce said, and he and the kids huddled again, this time with her in the middle of them, and prayed for her in her new faith. Bruce prayed for her husband and for the Edwards family.

A minute later Josey was gone, and Judd and his friends sat with Bruce, exhausted and silent. “I’ve got to get going,” Bruce said finally. “Big day tomorrow. And then the next night we’re meeting, just the five of us. I have so many things to tell you. Huge news about the Antichrist and the Tribulation and other things in prophecy. You learned today that not everything in the Christian life is neat and tidy. Things happen that we don’t understand, we don’t like, and we can’t explain. God’s ways are not our ways, and his thoughts are not our thoughts.

“Not that long ago I never knew anyone who had been the victim of a violent crime. I never knew anyone who had been killed, murdered, or even threatened. Now Ryan has had his parents both die, Lionel has lost an uncle to murder, and Judd has lost a new acquaintance. It’s as if God is using this period in history as a crash course in life and death. We tell people they don’t have a lot of time to be deciding what they will do about Jesus, and then it is proven to us every day.”

Judd collapsed into bed that night with mixed emotions. He missed his family, but he was grateful for his new friends, for Bruce, and for his own assurance of heaven. He wished he knew the mind of God better and could understand why things happened the way they did—either that or to be able to somehow explain them to people like Tom Fogarty.

Judd was fascinated by prophecy and the fact that he and his friends were living right in the middle of it every day. He knew Bruce’s teaching on the Antichrist would be troubling and scary, but he would sure rather know than not know what was coming.