“Doc’s on his way,” Daddy told us. He’d covered the body of Lucas Shaw with a blanket, and we’d gathered outside the garage.
“God surely works in mysterious ways,” Pastor Honeywell said. “And in this case, expeditiously. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Haberlin?” he inquired.
“I sure would.”
“So there’s likely no need for you to call the sheriff. Would you agree with that as well?” the pastor added.
“No crime was committed,” I said.
“Woulda been, if it hadn’t been for Gabriel,” Patrick noted.
Meriwether sighed. “Spoze we’re even now. I saved you from bein’ hit by that car, and now you turned ’round and saved me from”—he hesitated before continuing—“killin’ a man. What you think ’bout that, my young friend?” He cracked a smile.
I grinned. “I think it’s just fine, and now that Lucas is dead, y’all don’t have to move, do you?”
Meriwether and the pastor shared a look. “I’m ’bout done with Birdsong, and I have a strong suspicion Birdsong is through with me . . . Time to head north to a place that’s rumored to be a trifle more hospitable.”
“What’s that mean, hospitable?” I asked.
“Welcoming,” he answered.
“I think it’ll be better for y’all up there too,” Daddy said.
“Only one way to know and that’s to find out for myself.”
“Now, about the sheriff?” Pastor Honeywell inquired again.
“Like Gabriel said, no crime’s been committed, so I can’t say I see a reason for me to call him, but y’all should be aware that he did come ’round my house this mornin’ askin’ ’bout the snake. Seems Miss Duval carried it over to him and he was fulla questions. Thissa small town”—he glanced at Patrick—“and tales fly fast.”
The pastor chuckled. “Birdsong’s a fittin’ name, then, ain’t it?”
“That it is.”
Old Pastor Honeywell stared long and hard into my daddy’s eyes. “If you don’t have any objections, Mr. Haberlin, I think it’d be wise for Meriwether not to be here right ’bout now. So we’re gonna head on back to the house to check on Phoebe and Abigail.”
“That’d be wise of you.”
Meriwether reached for Daddy’s hand and they shook. “Thank you, Mr. Haberlin. It’s likely I’ll see y’all b’fore we leave.”
“I’m sure of that, Meriwether. Plus, you’ll need those title and registration papers for the car. I’m expecting them in today’s mail.”
Meriwether smiled. “Thanks again, Mr. Haberlin, for everything.”
“Jake . . . The name’s Jake.”
Then Meriwether turned to me and said, “And thank you, Gabriel.”
“Welcome,” I replied. “And thank you too for . . . you know, that day with the bicycle. Sure are a lot of thank-yous around here!”
“I know.”
“Bye, Mr. Meriwether Hunter,” Patrick uttered.
“So long,” Meriwether replied.
And together, Meriwether and the pastor headed to the car. Pastor’s arm was around his shoulder, reminding me of a father with his son.