I know Mitchell doesn’t want to shoot since Randall and I are a tangled mess of limbs and he could easily hit me. But if he doesn’t, I’ll die anyway. I try to meet his gaze around Randall’s head. I need to do something to give him a better shot. I stop gripping Randall’s leg and reach for a bone beside me. In one swift motion, I connect the bone with Randall’s head.
He stumbles to the side, and Mitchell’s gun fires. Randall’s bloody body falls limp on top of me. “Get him off me,” I say, my voice raspy.
Mitchell jumps down into the casket and pushes Randall off me. With the bullet wound in Randall’s head, we don’t need to check for signs of life. He’s dead. “Are you okay?” Mitchell asks as I rub my throat.
I nod. “Chandler Evans,” I manage to croak out.
Mitchell helps me up and lifts me out of the grave. Then he pulls himself out. I know he wants to make sure I’m all right, but we both know there isn’t time. We search the headstones. Chandler Evans’s grave is on a small raised area with more members of the Evans family. This time Mitchell drives the bucket loader, which I left running. He digs up the grave as I count the seconds ticking by. I can’t sense if Pastor Evans is still alive or not.
When Mitchell hits the casket, he stops and jumps out of the machine. We dig out the edges and pull up the lid. Pastor Evans’s eyes are closed. I press my hand to his neck. “There’s a pulse, but it’s weak.”
Sirens sound, and lights illuminate the cemetery. Mitchell climbs out of the grave and motions to the officers and the paramedics.
“Pastor, can you hear me?” I say. “It’s Piper Ashwell. The paramedics are here. We’re going to get you out of here. Just hold on.”
With oxygen filling his lungs again, he should be okay. If we’d taken any longer to find him...
Mitchell and I arrive at the hospital at 4:00 p.m. with a bouquet of flowers for Pastor Evans. Our entire day was busy with police reports and exhuming the bodies of the other victims from the cemetery. Losing six innocent people on one case is too much for me to grasp. I just keep trying to focus on the fact that we were able to save Pastor Evans. Not to mention Randall Williams will never take another life. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.
Pastor Evans is sitting up in bed, looking better but still exhausted and pale. “Detectives,” he says when he sees us. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I place the vase of flowers on the table beside his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Grateful, blessed, and heartbroken all at the same time.” He takes a shaky breath and sighs. “I hired Randall. I was so set on trying to make everyone into a better person. I knew Randall had his faults. His last employer told me there was something off about him, but I was convinced I could show anyone the error of their ways.”
He wanted more and more souls to save. It’s not the traditional definition of gluttony, but that’s how Randall saw it. He took some liberties with that one. But after being inside Randall’s mind, I’m pretty sure he saw Pastor Evans as feasting on all his church members’ souls. I shake the thought away, not wanting to channel Randall ever again.
“I’m sorry we weren’t able to solve this case sooner. Your church lost a lot of good people.”
“I’ve learned a valuable lesson in all of this. It is not up to me to judge my constituents. I can only show them the ways of the Lord and allow them to live their lives after that. Randall helped me see that.”
I’m not sure how he’s able to find good in all this death, but maybe that’s what he needs to do to move on from it.
“Thank you both for saving me.”
“We’re just happy we were able to,” I say. “Get some rest. You have a service to give in a few days.”
He smiles and leans his head back on the pillow.
Mitchell and I turn to leave when Pastor Evans calls me back into the room.
“Ms. Ashwell, don’t view your gift as anything but. We can’t always see why we are meant to do something, but know it’s part of a bigger plan. I don’t know why God chose to save me and not the others, but I do know you were given this gift for a reason. Use it to the best of your ability. That’s all anyone can ever ask of you.”
“Thank you, Pastor.” I swallow the lump in my throat that seems to come with every death I can’t prevent.
Mitchell slings one arm over my shoulder, and for the first time, I don’t shrug off the physical contact. “So, does this mean we have to start attending church on Sundays?”
“And risk you spontaneously combusting and burning down the entire place and everyone inside?” I shake my head. “I’m afraid it’s just too risky.”
“You’re right.” He opens the door to the hospital for me, and we step out into the snow showers. “I had another risky idea in mind.”
“You’re going to stop hitting on every pretty woman we come in contact with on these cases?” I scrunch up my face. “I don’t know. That one might kill you, too. I’m just not sure you have it in you.”
“I was actually thinking we go see a movie.”
“A movie?” I stop walking and face him. “Is that a joke?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “No. I just thought neither of us gets out anymore. We’re always busy with cases. And I’m pretty sure you’ve begrudgingly admitted I’m one of your friends. So, what the hell? Let’s pretend to be normal people for one evening. We’ll see a movie, pig out on popcorn and candy, and then I’ll drop you off at home so you can call your dad and tell him how boring I am and how you can’t see why any woman would ever date me.”
“Hmm...I already know that last part, so what if we skip the movie and order in while watching TV on the couch with Jezebel?”
“You’re going to read on commercial breaks, aren’t you?” he asks.
I smile. “Every single one. If I don’t, you might try to engage me in conversation, and we certainly can’t have that.”
“No, we can’t have that. People might start to think we were really friends and not just pretending to be.”
“That would be awful,” I say, looping my arm through his.
He looks down, and at first I think he’s trying to make sure my right hand isn’t in a position to read him.
“You’re safe,” I say, wiggling my gloved fingers and then putting my hand in my pocket.
“Somehow I doubt that. I’m pretty sure being friends with you is going to do me in.”
“Eh, you’re practically ancient anyway. The big three-oh and all that.”
“I’ve had a good run.”
“So, Chinese or pizza?” I ask as we walk back to his Explorer.
“We’ve barely eaten for the past week. I say let’s order both.”
“Keep talking like that, and we’re going to get along just fine, Detective.”
“Be honest. You keep me around for my amazing puns.”
I let go of his arm and walk around to the passenger side of the Explorer. “If I’m being honest, one day I’m going to accidentally throw you in a ditch because of your puns. They need to go.”
He opens the door. “Oh, come on. I have one for every case we work. I think that’s pretty inventive of me. You know you’re looking forward to the next one I come up with.”
I get inside the car and close the door. “Start thinking then, because we never have much time between cases, and I have a feeling our next one is just around the corner.”
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