The girls were awakened by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Jack whimpered, his stubby tail wagging, his ears at attention.
Sherry jumped up and pulled Taylor to the back of the cage just as the bright light rounded the corner and moved toward them.
“Jack! How’s man’s best friend?” Wayne stroked and patted the Doberman’s sleek black coat. Jack began yapping, running in circles, and jumping in the air.
“I see my other pets aren’t as wild about me. Look at them hunkered back there, not at all interested in a three-dog night.” He laughed. “Stand up!” Wayne unlocked the gate and went inside.
Sherry felt Taylor trembling. She thought her own heart would pound out of her chest.
“The house was unlocked when I got home.” He moved closer until his face was less than an arm’s length away. “Somebody was here. I wanna know who!”
Sherry looked over at Jack and clutched Taylor tightly.
“You nervous with the gate open?” Wayne snickered and turned to Jack. “Silence!” He turned back around. “Now, tell me what you know … or would you rather I have Jack pull it out of you?”
Taylor began to cry.
“One time we heard footsteps,” Sherry said. “And a piano, I think.” She looked at Jack. He gave a low, rolling growl.
“Jack, silence!” Wayne said. “Go on, what else?”
“Uh, it sounded like someone running and then a door slammed. Jack was all excited, so we thought it was you; but when you didn’t come down, we figured you left.” Sherry felt herself shaking.
“When? What time?” he asked. Jack began to snarl. This time Wayne ignored him and glared at Sherry. “Well?”
“W-w-we don’t know what time. It happened a long time after you brought us something to eat last time.”
Wayne moved closer and got right in their faces. Sherry’s heart pounded so loudly she thought he could hear it.
“If I find out you lied to me, I’ll feed you to Jack.” He stepped back and dropped two lunch sacks on the floor. “Enjoy today’s special. Oh—you’ll wanna read this.” He tossed Sherry a rolled-up newspaper. “What can I say? I have a way with words.” He laughed, and was still laughing when he left the cage and locked the gate. “Better read it while you can.”
When Wayne went up the stairs, Sherry laid out the front page of Monday’s paper, and she and Taylor read the words from the banner that had hung on the water tower.
The girls fell into each other’s arms and cried until they were wet with tears and began to shiver. Each crawled into her sleeping bag.
Velma heard the phone ring. She tucked the covers around Rebecca and went into the living room to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. It’s Wayne. Just calling to make sure Rebecca got home okay.”
“She did. She’s sick, though. I can’t imagine what happened between 3:00 and now to knock the wind out of her. She was in bed when I got home … Wayne? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Did she say what was wrong?”
“Just that her stomach hurt.”
“You think it’s the flu?”
“It’s probably some kind of bug. I suspect she’ll be better tomorrow.”
While Sherry and Taylor slept on the basement floor, light encircled them and wings overshadowed them. The Word was whispered into the dark silence.
Sherry sat up, her heart racing. Was someone there? She turned on the flashlight and spotted Jack lying in front of the gate. She lay down again, her eyes wide open. What was this peace that seemed to have its arms around her? She yielded gladly to its amazing strength.
Sherry felt Monday’s newspaper in a heap next to her. She accepted that she was going to die and would soon be with her Savior. But how could she keep her mind on Him and not dwell on how death would come? Lying there hour after hour made it almost impossible to think about anything else.
During the moments when she was able to surrender her fear, she worried that Taylor was going to die without having accepted Jesus.
Sherry wanted to talk to her about it, but Jack was always there. She sighed. Why hadn’t she talked to Taylor a long time ago instead of thinking she’d do it “one of these days”?
She wondered what made Wayne hate G. R. Logan enough to decide to kill Taylor and her. How did that kind of hate happen? How could anyone get so far off track?
She thought about the notes and the knives and Oliver and the words at the plant and on the water tower. How could he think any of that was funny? Her anger burned until she could hardly hold it in, and she almost blurted out, I hate him!
The words raged in her head, and she felt ashamed. Soon she would die and meet Jesus face-to-face. How could she look into His eyes feeling like this?
Sherry lay there a long time. Lord, forgive me. I know I shouldn’t hate him. I don’t wanna hate him. Tears stung her eyes.
She remembered something Pastor Thomas had said: Seeking shelter in the shadow of the Almighty didn’t always mean hiding behind Him or beneath His wings; sometimes it meant walking close enough to stay in His shadow.
Sherry stared blindly into the blackness that encased her. What if she saw this darkness as God’s shadow and chose to stay next to Him? Would it change the way she felt? Lord, I need to know You’re here with me. I can’t do this by myself. I don’t wanna feel dark on the inside.
Her heart started to pound, and pound harder. She lay perfectly still, holding her breath. A few verses of Psalm 63 ran through her mind … and then poured out in a beautiful melody unlike any she’d heard before. Sherry sang with her whole being, energized by the truth of the words.
On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.
Because you are my help,
I sing in the shadow of your wings.
Taylor awakened to the sound of Sherry’s singing. She took in every word, memorizing what she heard, until she felt her despair melting. God had not abandoned them! She began to weep.
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sat up, surrounded by light, and looked at the face of Sherry Kennsington. Taylor had always admired her friend’s stubborn strength, but for the first time she longed to understand its source.
Jordan Ellis paced the floor early Tuesday morning. He picked up his cell phone and dialed.
“FBI lab.”
“This is Ellis. Who’s this?”
“John Richards, who else?”
“Didn’t sound like you. You’re there early.”
“Early? Try late, Jordan. I’ve been here all night, trying to pull this evidence together.”
“Got anything?”
“Fingerprints on the banner that don’t match anything on file. Could be his. Or whoever sold the guy the nylon tarp. Hard telling where he got it. Could’ve mail-ordered it or bought it at a sporting goods store.
“We found multiple strands of black hair dried in the black paint used on the banner. They match the others. We can place him with the dead cat, with the blond hair in the note to the editor lady, and now at the water tower. It’s the same guy.”
“But?”
John sighed. “But we don’t have a DNA match. Nothing on file. Sorry.”
“No big surprise,” Jordan said. “This is no career criminal. This guy worked for G. R. Logan. I can smell it. We’re working around the clock, putting together lists and contacting former employees and business associates, trying to sift out enemies. We’ll contact everyone on the lists, and we’ll put each of them under a microscope.”
“And I thought my job was hard. At least evidence can’t lie. Getting the truth out of people’s a whole nother ballgame.”
“Yeah, and you’ll notice we’re not batting a thousand.”
“So he’s thrown a few curves. It’s not over yet.”
“Let’s try to keep it from going into extra innings, John.”
“That’s why I’m still here.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks. Burning the midnight oil’s a killer, but I really appreciate the effort.”
“By the way,” John said. “What do you think about this Mayor Kirby? What he had to say wasn’t exactly politically correct.”
“I can tell you one thing, his finger was pointed right at me. I’ve known G. R. Logan only since Friday, and already I hate him.” Jordan chuckled.
“In one ear and out the other.”
“It wasn’t completely wasted on me. I decided to hate Logan just until this case is solved. Seriously, John, if people took his advice, this world would be a better place. Then again, I’d be out of a job.”
“Nah, Jordan, you’re like a bad penny. You’d show up somewhere else.”
“Think so, eh? Listen, I need to go. I’m due in a meeting with the team that’ll be at the high school when classes resume today. Could be a mess over there. Let me know if you find anything else.”
“Yeah, I will.”
The basement was filled with light when Sherry’s singing came to an end. The girls looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“Sherry, the words to that song—it’s like they were written for me! How did you know that’s what I needed?”
“I didn’t! I’d been praying about how to handle things better. Then some Bible verses came to me, and I had this melody in my mind. The song just came out!”
“You didn’t know what you were going to sing?”
“No. I didn’t think about it at all. It was so cool.” Sherry looked at Jack, and then at Taylor. “No Jack attack either. Just look at him. He’s sound asleep.”
“I love all this light! How does that happen?”
“Listen,” Sherry said. “I have to ask you something I should’ve asked you a long time ago.”
“What?”
“Do you know where you’re gonna be … if we … don’t get out of here alive? I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s important.”
“I guess I’ll be in heaven … I hope so, anyway.”
“You’re not sure?”
“How can we be sure until we get there? Why are you talking about this? It’s creepy.”
“Taylor, have you ever, like, been to the foot of the cross? I mean have you ever realized that Jesus died for you, that He didn’t just take the whole youth group as a package deal? Because it doesn’t work that way. Each of us has to choose Him as our Savior and accept His forgiveness for the things we’ve done wrong. Have you ever done that?” Sherry noticed that the light in the basement was starting to fade.
There was a long pause. Taylor lifted her eyebrows. “Are you asking me if I’m saved?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“I guess so. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be saved from. But since I go to church and try to do what’s right, I just assumed I was.”
“There shouldn’t be any doubt, since it’s a deliberate decision to let Jesus have your heart. Have you ever done that?”
Taylor shook her head. “Maybe I would if I understood.”
“It’s not hard. Just realize you’re a sinner and confess to God the things you’ve done wrong. Then ask Jesus to forgive you and come into your heart. Pretty simple, really. You learn as you go. The really cool thing is after a while you won’t even wanna do things that are wrong, and He’ll help you change so that, more and more, you act like Him, and—”
“Is that what’s happened to you, Sherry? Because you act more like Him than anyone I know.”
Sherry felt her face get hot. “I’d like to act like Jesus, but most of the time I don’t.”
“I think you do.”
“Well, if I do, it’s because He’s living in me. That’s what I meant by changing us from the inside—”
Jack lunged at them with such ferocity that Sherry jumped back. She clutched Taylor’s arm, her heart hammering, her eyes closed. “Ask God to show you. He will.”
Joe Kennsington sat in his office, his arms resting on the desk. He was lost in a photograph taken on field day last May …
“Dad, over here!” Sherry’s giggling echoed across the football field.
Joe threw a long pass right into his daughter’s waiting hands. She took off down the field, evading students and teachers who tried to snatch the flag from her waistband. Sherry ran all the way for the winning touchdown, and two varsity football players placed her on their shoulders and paraded her around the field …
“Joe?” Mrs. Willington leaned on the open door. “May I come in?”
“Uh, sure. I didn’t see you standing there.”
She walked over and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m not going to ask how you are.” Her gray eyes penetrated his defenses.
“You always know.” He looked down. “I meant to call. I knew you’d be worried.”
“I was, but I didn’t expect a call … Are you ready to talk to the students this morning?”
“It’s not going to be an easy message.”
“I know. I know you better than my own son. I can almost read your mind.”
“So what am I going to tell them?”
“I’d say you’re going to challenge them. Probably to do something that goes against reason.” Mrs. Willington’s eyes filled with tears; her lower lip quivered. Joe had never seen her look so fragile.
“Tell them what’s on your heart, Joe. But if you ask what I think you’re going to … I’m not sure I can—”
There was a knock at the door. Joe looked up and saw Charlie Kirby, Pastor Thomas, and Jed Wilson.
“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Pastor Thomas said. “We promised we’d come at 7:00 to pray before the assembly.”
“No, come in. Mrs. Willington was just … encouraging me to say what’s on my heart. And since I value her opinion, I need to get prayed up before going out there.”
The bell rang at 7:55, summoning students to the weekly assembly. FBI agents positioned themselves as inconspicuously as possible while students streamed into the auditorium.
Joe Kennsington walked up the steps to the stage, his knees wobbly, and stood for a moment off to the side. He wasn’t sure how he would get through this, but he knew he would.
Joe looked out at a sea of faces and spotted Erica sitting in the third row, her friends gathered around her. He made eye contact. Her pretty face looked drained, but she acknowledged him with a slight nod.
When the 8:00 bell rang, Principal Kennsington stepped in front of the mike. He took a sip of water.
“I’m glad we’re meeting this morning because I have some things I’d really like to say. You know about the terrible events that happened over the weekend. My family and I have appreciated the support from citizens in this community.” His eyes moved from student to student. “But nothing has meant any more to me than what you put under those yellow ribbons outside, because I know the sentiments came from deep inside …” Joe paused and took a slow, deep breath.
“This student body is an extended family for me. The unique experience of having my two daughters here has made it even more so. Today is … very difficult. Having Sherry taken from us … has been a pain unlike—” Joe stopped and swallowed the emotion, wondering if he was going to lose it—“unlike any that I could ever have imagined. But looking into your faces this morning, I know this has been difficult for you, too.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. My family has put the situation in God’s capable hands. But I do know this: When bad things happen to good people, the Lord is not absent. He just sees a bigger plan. I believe that. I’ve tried to live my life that way, but I’ve never been tested to my limit until now. No matter what the outcome, my faith and trust in God will not fail. I know He loves Sherry and Taylor more than anyone else could. He has a plan, a purpose, in all of this.
“Students, there’s one thing I ask of you: Don’t let this make you cynical. Pray for whoever’s responsible! It’s difficult to hate someone you pray for.
“We can’t turn back the clock and bring Sherry and Taylor home. That’s up to God. But each of us can choose, right here and now, not to let unforgiveness wreck our lives. Will you join with me and leave your anger at the door when you walk out of here?
“For Taylor, for Sherry …” Joe’s lower lip quivered, his hands shook. “For all of us … be strong. Real strength comes through forgiveness, never through anger.”
The students rose and applauded, their feet stomping the bleachers. Mrs. Willington nodded with approval, a tear trickling down her cheek.
Joe felt himself trembling. Every part of him wanted to embrace the anger, but the Lord who resided in his heart had taught him differently.