Good, Clean Murder (18 page)

As she hoped,
she was stopped mid-parking lot by a short, young woman with thick dreadlocks
and a peasant blouse. “You wouldn’t do this to your body, would you?” The
protester held up a flier with a picture of diseased arteries on it. They
looked an awful lot like the spray paint she had seen in the news video.

“I might order a
salad.” Jane smiled at the protestor.

“You can’t get a
salad here.” The protestor waved the flier again.

“Sure I can.
They have several options including smoked salmon, apple and bacon, and vegan
legume salad. Tons of healthy options inside.”

The protestor
rattled her paper at Jane. “You kill the world when you kill yourself with this
food.”

Jane walked past
her. She was hoping to engage someone a little more coherent.

A thin man with
a thick beard stopped her next. “Hey there.” He smiled down at her. “You don’t
really want to do this, do you?”

“It’s a free
country,” Jane said.

“It is, that’s
true, but come on, you know. When you eat this stuff you aren’t free. You’re
just a slave to the calories.” The protestor handed her a leaflet.

“You must really
care about people to come out here like this.” Jane spoke in a matter-of-fact
tone of voice.

“I do, man. When
you look around and see how badly this world is hurting, you’re like, willing
to do anything to help.” The protester gestured towards the road packed with
cars.

“That’s totally
how I feel too, but I can’t help thinking that hamburgers aren’t the worst of
society’s ills. Isn’t there something more urgent to help with?”

The protestor
leaned forward and opened her flier for her. “See that boy?” he said, pointing
to a picture of a very obese kid about ten years old. “We had his mom’s
permission to use his image and story. Dead at eleven years old. Heart attack.
How much more serious does it get?”

Jane frowned.
“Did this kid ever eat at a Roly Burger?” she looked up at the protester. He
had tears in his eyes. “And wasn’t it his mom’s job to make sure he ate well?”

“She was
ignorant. She didn’t know. That’s what we’re here for, you know? People need to
know
before they enter the restaurant. How can they be expected to make
great choices if they don’t know?”

“Have you ever
met Rose of Sharon? I see her on TV all the time. She’s super passionate, isn’t
she?”

The protestor’s
face lit up. “She’s a-maaa-zing. Really amazing. She has given her whole life
for this cause. Do you know how many times she’s been arrested? Amazing.”

“Wow. She’s been
arrested for her protests, huh? I bet she’s really angry at the people who own
places like this.” Jane attempted to keep a nonchalant tone of voice, but the
word ‘arrest’ had sent shivers up her arms. She was on alert now. She had to
get this guy to give up what he knew about Rose of Sharon’s arrests.

The protester
leaned in closer. “Very angry, and don’t mess with Rose of Sharon when she’s
angry.”

“Does Rose of
Sharon ever get violent?” Jane whispered.

“There’s no
telling what she is capable of.” The protestor was at her elbow now. He turned,
and out of social instinct, Jane turned with him. Two other protesters joined
them and walked her back to her car. “Go home, sweetie. Eat organic.”

It wasn’t until
Jane was in her seat, revving her engine, that she noticed the news cameras.
Was there any chance at all that what the protestor had said had been recorded?

Back at Harvest,
after having made at least initial contact with several potential vendors, Jane
just stared at Isaac. His voice rose and fell as he told the story of a family
he had known at a homeless shelter where he had volunteered. His passion for
his work was palpable. He leaned forward, listening intently as students asked
him questions. As much as Jane secretly wished it, he didn’t stare forlornly at
her, fumbling with his pages, searching for words.

As Isaac
described a late night meeting with the homeless father, how they had talked
about the man’s dashed plans and hopeless dreams for his children, Jane tried
to picture Isaac as a professor. Why was he so intent on getting a PhD when
what he really loved was helping people? Jane twirled her pen through her
fingers. Isaac would be happy on the mission field—it was as obvious as the raw
emotion on his face.

He moved on to
cold statistics—measurable effects of prayer and faith on a family’s security.
Jane pictured him in a cold dark Ural mountain tent, helping an oppressed
family find faith. She would be stitching intricate embroidery at the feet of a
grandmother, telling generations of women about Jesus. A wave of peace washed
over her. She stopped twirling her pen.

The only fly in
the ointment was his seminary education. Could she get access to a closed
country with a husband who had a M div? But that wasn’t her problem to sort
out, was it? God could handle the details.

Isaac closed
class early. He walked straight to Jane and sat on the edge of her desk.
“Holding up?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She
tilted her head and smiled up at him.

“You looked like
you were barely staying awake tonight.” His smile had a hint of concern.

“I was
distracted. There was a terribly handsome man standing at the front of class.”
Jane looked down at her fingers and then up again, quickly.

Mina snorted.

Isaac cleared
his throat.

“Mr. Daniels,
how are we supposed to do your practical application assignment? We live on
campus.” Mina’s voice had a whiny, nasal tone.

“I’ve worked
that out with Pastor Barnes. He’ll charter a bus and take you all into Portland
to work at some of the shelters. It will be much later in the term.”

“Ew.” Mina
rolled her eyes.

“Jane….” Isaac
cleared his voice again.

“Yeah. Sorry
about that. It just came out.” Jane looked at her fingers again. Mina was her
best guess as to who had turned them in for inappropriate behavior. There was a
good chance Isaac would be called back to the office for another talking to.

“No, not that.”
He blushed a little. “I saw the funeral notice in the paper. I just wanted to
let you know that my parents are going. I’m going too, so you might meet my
family.”

Jane bit her
lip. “Oh?”

Isaac lowered
his voice. “I wanted you to know in advance. I haven’t said anything, I mean I
may have mentioned that I met someone great, but I didn’t tell them who. If you
don’t want me to introduce you, I won’t.”

Did she? Didn’t
she? She spun the thought around. She swallowed. “I’d love to meet them.” She
counted back the days trying to remember how long ago she had met Isaac. Not
long enough to be meeting his parents.

“It’s just,
they’re neighbors, you know? And friends. They wanted to go. I don’t want to
make you feel uncomfortable. You hardly know me.”

Mina’s
snickering carried over the low murmur of voices that filled the room.

Jane turned
toward the sound. Pastor Barnes stood in the doorway, his black brows pulled
together, a deep crease cut between his eyes. He eyes bored into Jane. He
caught her eye and nodded toward the door.

She flipped her
head back to Isaac, but he had turned and was talking to Sarah.

Jane stood, her
knees shaking. She joined the pastor in the hall. He closed the door to the
classroom.

“Jane, I am not
just the Pastor of Harvest Church. I am the administrator of this school. I am
responsible for the spiritual growth of the young men and women who come here.”

Jane looked at
her feet. Mina had worked fast.

“I cannot have
our rules flouted.”

“Yes, sir.”
Jane’s face burned with shame. She hadn’t just broken the rules, she had
thought of herself as above them. Her stomach was sick with misery.

“Every now and
again, when I feel a student has the potential to be successful, I allow part
time status. I allowed you part time status because I believed you were a
serious student.”

“I am. I swear I
am.” She still couldn’t look up at him. Not with all of her recent thoughts on
the value of the school racing through her brain. She had been a serious
student. The school had changed, not her.

“I have two
choices, Jane. And I need you to help me decide the wisest course of action.”

She nodded. She
knew this was going to be one of those impossible choices that Christians like
to pose. The right answer was always “Die to Self.”

“If I suspend
Mr. Daniels for his behavior eighty-five students will miss out, not only on
this night class you are a part of, but also the other two classes he is
teaching here this term.”

Jane’s eyes filled
with tears. She knew what was coming and she hated it.

“If I suspend
Mr. Daniels he is without a job for the term. He is without a reference from
this school. You might not know this, Jane, but I report to his thesis advisor.
If he is suspended for inappropriate behavior, they will know why.”

“But he hasn’t
acted inappropriately.” Jane lifted her head and stared at the Pastor. “It
would be wrong to tell them he did.” Her voice rose.

“I know about
the fire, Jane.”

“That wasn’t his
fault. Or mine. He was tricked into coming out there.” Jane crossed her arms.
Pastor Barnes struck her as a small man. Small in stature and small in grace.

“You were seen,
Jane. No one tricked him into behaving the way he did.”

The warmth of
his arm around her. The kiss. Her face flushed with the memory. “The
alternative is to punish me in some way. I understand.” Despite the waves of
shame that rolled over Jane, she didn’t turn away from Pastor Barnes’ stern
face. “That’s what you had better do.” With great effort she kept her voice
from quivering.

“We’ve counted
up your credits, Jane. We’ll allow you to collect your certificate with the
rest of the students in May, but we can’t allow you to finish this course.” His
black eyes flashed—with humor?

Jane stopped,
her mouth parted. Humor? She even detected a bit of a smile on his face. “Sir?”
she said.

“Isaac is a good
teacher, Jane, but we have rules and until the board tells us otherwise, we
have to abide by them, no matter how hard it is.” His face softened, the humor
in his eyes mixed with a fatherly, gentle smile. “I think you understand me?”

She thought she
did as well. “Yes, sir.” She looked over her shoulder through the small
rectangular window in the door to the classroom. Isaac was still sitting on her
desk, but a crowd of students had gathered around him.

“We’ll see you
at graduation.” Pastor Barnes looked into the classroom. “I think it is best if
you go home now.”

“Can’t I say
goodbye first?” Jane searched the room for Sarah.

“Yes, of
course.” Pastor Barnes looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get home. Leslie is
waiting. He didn’t hurry away. “A Pastor needs a good wife, Jane. A man doesn’t
meet the right one everyday.” Pastor smiled at her again, but didn’t wait for
her to respond.

Jane watched
Isaac talk with the students for a while before she entered the room. She had
just been expelled from Bible school, sort of.
He had better be worth it.

Jane kept the
radio off as she drove home. Had her conversation with Pastor Barnes really
just taken place? She rolled the words over and over again in her mind. What
exactly had just occurred?

She was being
disciplined for inappropriate behavior. The school had chosen to discipline
her, rather than Isaac, because it was inconvenient for them to find a new
teacher.

She was being allowed
to collect her certificate with the other students, but did she want to? The
idea of reaching across the pulpit to shake Pastor Barnes’ hand and collect her
certificate repulsed her. If she read his underlying message correctly, she was
being expelled from class because she could be a “good wife” for Isaac. Was
this really, as past students were prone to say, “Harvest Bridal School”?

Jane slammed her
brakes at a four way stop light. She was alone at the intersection so she just
sat there for a moment. Self-sacrifice was the ideal she held highest. Give up
a university education to pursue a ministry education. Give up the comforts of
a life and home in the States to serve overseas. Give up the intimate setting
of dorm life at a small school so she could earn her own way through—owing
nothing to no one.

A pang shot
through her. How stupidly proud and self-righteous it all sounded. She dropped
her head and banged it on the steering wheel. She had always been very proud of
her humility, but her humility had failed to get her what she was aiming
for—perfection. One attractive male dropped into the mix, when the end was
near, and she had been unable to keep up her defenses.

She could say it
was stress from the murders, stress from her housing situation, stress from
living in the same house as Jake, but when it came down to brass tacks, she had
decided she was above the rules at Harvest.

As Pastor Barnes
had made abundantly clear, she was not. The rules were being applied to her
very directly.

A car pulled up
behind Jane at the light. As she crossed the intersection the car behind her
flashed its lights. Then her phone bleeped that a text had come in. The road
was dark and long—the nearest building in the long stretch of farmland was at
least a mile up. She didn’t pull over to check her text.

The car behind
her kept close on her tail. It flashed its lights at her again. Jane gritted
her teeth. She gripped the wheel until her knuckles hurt. She pulled to the
right so the impatient car could pass, but it didn’t.

The car pulled
up next to her, keeping pace. The dome light in the car next to her flicked on,
catching her eye. It was Isaac. He waved at her and mouthed something. She
frowned and mouthed back, “What?”

He motioned to
the side of the road.

Jane pulled over.
Her heart leapt to her throat. It was just Isaac. It wasn’t like Pam and Bob’s
killer had just pulled her over.

Isaac pulled
over and parked. He walked up to the passenger side of her car and knocked.

Jane kept her
grip on the wheel. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. She had choice words
for Isaac, if she opened the door. Words she might live to regret, no matter
how good they would feel right now.

When her heart
slowed down to almost-normal she reached across the seat and unlocked the door.

Isaac climbed
into the passenger seat. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached for her
hand.

She let him.

“I am so sorry.”

Jane bit back
the words she was thinking. She wanted to hate him for getting her kicked out
of school, but she knew it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“Pastor Barnes
talked to me after you left. I think they made a very bad decision.”

Jane looked at
her hand in his. “I broke the rules.”

“So did I.
Kicking you out of school was completely unfair, but he did say you would still
get your certificate, so that’s good.”

Jane shrugged.
The piece of paper that Glenda the secretary had so recently revealed to be
meaningless. “I don’t care about the piece of paper.”

Isaac lifted his
eyebrow and gave Jane a hopeful smile. “You know, now it’s not against the
rules…”

Jane pulled her
hand away.

“Sorry. Bad
timing.” Isaac reached for the door handle. “It will be okay, Jane. You’ll
still get to the mission field, even though you can’t finish this class.”

“I really don’t
want to talk about this right now.” Jane stared out the front window of her
car.

“Are you sure?
I’ve got all night. Or we could go somewhere, Starbucks or wherever.”

“I just got
expelled from
Bible school
,
Isaac. I was expelled for
inappropriate behavior because it was more convenient for them than
disciplining you would have been.
I don’t want to talk about it right now.
”
Jane’s jaw was so tight that spitting the words out sent a spasm of pain to her
head.

“Okay. We won’t
talk about it right now.” Isaac opened the car door. “But when you are ready,
you know where to find me.”

“Yes.” Jane
turned to him. “You’ll still be teaching your class.” A little voice in the
back of her mind told her she wasn’t being fair, but she squelched it.