Chapter Fourteen
Kate was sitting by the fireplace in her bathrobe reading when Paul got back from Chattanooga.
“How was your visit?” she called to him as he hung up his raincoat.
He poked his head around the corner on his way to the kitchen. “A day with Nehemiah was just the tonic I needed.” Then he came back to sit beside her in front of the fire. He looked more relaxed than when he left.
“He sent me home with something for you. He fixed chili, his special, one-of-a-kind pumpkin chili.”
“Seventy-nine years old, and he cooks a pot of chili while you’re visiting?”
Paul grinned. “And with flair. You should have seen him. He whirled around that little kitchenette like it was Emeril Lagasse’s personal workspace. He’d invited me to have dinner with him in the Orchard Hill dining room, but after I told him about the pumpkin festival, he couldn’t wait to pull out his special recipe and show it off. He thought maybe we could use it at the festival. He sent the recipe home with me.”
She reached for Paul’s hand. “Tell me what Nehemiah said about our troubles here.”
He squeezed her fingers and seemed to be studying her expression. “Before I get started, tell me about your day. Is everything okay? How was choir practice?”
She thought about it for a minute but didn’t know where to start, so she said, “I think we need Nehemiah’s wisdom as a foundation before we launch into my day.”
“Was it the meeting with Jed? He changed his mind about talking?”
“Actually, that was one of the high points of my day.” She smiled so he wouldn’t worry. “First, tell me about Nehemiah.”
“I had no more than walked in the door when he opened his Bible to Second Corinthians and read chapter four. He seemed so excited, he could hardly sit still. This morning, when he was praying for us—all of us...Faith Briar, you and me—he thought about the passage. He says it’s a promise to cling to during these difficult days.”
Paul got up and retrieved The Message from the lamp table by Kate’s rocker. He thumbed to the New Testament, found the passage in Second Corinthians and began to read aloud:
We’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.
“He agrees with us about rebuilding on the present site, no matter the cost. But he also cautioned me to remember that the church isn’t a building. It’s the people, God’s people, who make up his church.”
Paul stood up to stoke the fire. Sparks flew upward, crackled, and sizzled. After he sat down again, he said, “When I told him about the latest—last night’s vandalism—he told me something that I hope I never forget.” He paused, still watching the fire. “He said that without life’s challenges, we won’t see God’s grace at work. We won’t see the unfolding of miracles. Or God’s transforming power.”
He turned back to Kate. “I don’t know about you, but I needed that reminder right now.”
She took a deep breath. “Amen to that.”
“Now for your day.”
“I’ll start with choir practice at Renee’s—I actually had a lovely time. Renee served dessert—apparently cakes and pies are her specialty. The evening turned out to be a nice break from the rest of my day. I’m ashamed I grumbled so much about having to go.”
Paul raised a brow. “And about the rest of your day... ?”
Kate filled him in on the details about her meeting with Jed and his decision to tell the truth, the deposition he gave to the sheriff’s deputy, and the flicker of hope she saw in his eyes.
“After that, I babysat Kisses, which wasn’t so bad, but I cringe every time Renee calls me Kisses’ grandma.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “And you said it went downhill from there? That’s bad enough.”
She leaned forward and took his hand again. “I had a death threat.”
“What?” Paul was on his feet before the word had left his mouth. “A what?”
“A death threat. Someone threatened my life in an e-mail.”
“Who was it—or do you know? Was there a return address, a name, anything?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. After I got home, I called the sheriff. He couldn’t come, but he sent Skip over to talk to me, get a copy of the e-mail for their records.”
“Does he know anything about Internet security, how something like this might be traced?”
“He’s pretty computer literate, from what I could tell, but he couldn’t figure it out either. They’re sending someone over to the library tomorrow to check the computer program I was using. That may give them some clues.”
She went into the kitchen for the e-mail and brought it back to Paul. It took him less than ten seconds to read the three sentences:
Mrs. Hanlon, I know who you are and where you live. Keep your nose out of things that are none of your business or you will be sorry. Your life is in danger.
Paul frowned, reread the note, then looked up at Kate. His eyes were sad. “This is serious. Kate, please promise me you’ll stop this investigation. It isn’t worth it.”
“I know it’s serious, Paul, but I’m not going to stop looking into the church fire.” She laughed lightly. “In fact, it just makes me all the more determined to find out who did it and why.”
He sighed. “I know I can’t tell you what to do, Katie, but please be careful. Will you at least promise me that?”
Kate nodded.
“Do you have any more leads?” he asked.
She shook her head. “All signs point to WDR.” She told him about the e-mail from Sybil Hudson. “They play dirty from everything I’ve read. This note might be just a sampling from their bag of tricks.”
“I worry about you, Katie. The quicker I can find out who’s behind the fire, the safer we’ll all be.” She gave him a soft smile. “But I promise to pay close attention to where I go, when, and all that. Do the buddy-system thing.”
Paul sighed. “I know you. Once you get it in your head that something needs doing, you throw caution to the wind. That’s why I worry.”
PAUL SNORED LIGHTLY beside her, but Kate couldn’t sleep. She flipped her pillow over three times, adjusted her position, thought about counting the flock of sheep on the sliding-glass door, worried over her arthritic knee, then flipped her pillow again. Her mind whirled with thoughts of the fire, WDR, the stolen lumber, Jed, the pumpkin festival, rebuilding worries, then back to the fire again.
The clock in the entry hall chimed one o’clock, then two. Sometime before three, she finally drifted off.
Then, suddenly, she woke with a start and sat up in bed. It was as if a flash of lightning had struck her. Her mind raced along almost faster than she could keep up with it.
The baseball cap! She had seen something like it before! But where? When?
She pictured it as Jed must have seen it. Dark background. Some sort of iridescent logo above the bill. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
She fell asleep again, and when she woke at five thirty, she wondered if she really had seen the cap before, or if it had just been a dream.