The Right Call (21 page)

“Boy howdy, it’s sure carrying on out there. Going to wreck holiday plans for a lot of folks.” Nick could feel the tension coming from Gus. “You’re awfully quiet, friend.”

“That oughta make you happy,” Gus said.

“Come on, you know better than that.”

Gus planted his elbows on the counter, his chin on his palms, and exhaled. “I still can’t believe Antonio turned on me—and in front of everyone.”

“Your old buddy didn’t turn on you.”

“What would
you
call it?”

Nick saw a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye and waited for the crash of thunder and its lengthy reverberation. Should he try to sugarcoat it or just say it straight out?

“Gus, how long have we known each other?”

“I don’t know … more than twenty-five years.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Misled you in any way?”

“No.”

“Then listen to me: I think you need to be honest with yourself about Antonio’s question.”

“What, that I don’t believe in the legend anymore—or that I like rabble-rousing?”

Nick lifted an eyebrow and held Gus’s gaze. “Both.”

“Hey, it was a nosy question, and I don’t owe him an answer.”

“Well,
I’d
sure like to know—because I don’t think anyone wants to shut you up; they just want you to change the subject.”

Gus took his straw and poked at the ice cubes in his glass. “Okay, so I’m on Chief Jessup’s back again. I don’t think it’s wrong for a citizen of this town to question what she’s doin’ when there’re four bodies and no suspects.”

“Fair enough. But it’s more than that, Gus.”

“Like what?”

“Like you find a way to twist the facts of every case until the subject comes back to the legend, one way or the other.”

“So?”

“So it’s wearing us out.”

Gus winced. “Aw, don’t say that.”

Nick reached over and gently gripped Gus’s wrist. “It has to be said, friend. Let’s be honest with each other. Was Antonio right? Do you
really
believe the red-shadows legend—or is rabble-rousing the only way you know how to get involved in the conversation?”

Gus sat quietly, his cheeks flushed, and seemed to stare at nothing.

Nick tried to discern whether Gus’s silence was a sign of anger or of embarrassment.

A minute passed. Finally Gus said, “I’m not a stupid man, Nick. I keep up with what’s goin’ on around the globe. I watch cable news half the day.” Gus let out an exaggerated sigh. “So why is it so hard for me to just talk to folks without stirrin’ the pot?”

“Not everyone is social. Sometimes you have to learn to be. So tell me the truth: Do you really believe in the legend?”

Gus rubbed his mustache. “Nah. It’s just somethin’ I grew up with that’s always intrigued me. And it’s fun when I can use it to get the best of Tessa.” Gus chuckled. “She’s somethin’ when she’s flustered.”

“You’ve been faking it all this time?”

“Pretty much. Though I wasn’t so sure after Billy Dan swore he saw the red shadows when he was kidnapped. For a while I toyed with the idea that they might be real. But now I think the roofie they gave him made him see things that weren’t there.”

“Is that so hard to admit to your friends?”

Gus tipped his glass and crunched a piece of ice. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?”

“Y’all didn’t grow up with the legend like I did. There’s somethin’ special about keepin’ to it. It’s as much a part of this town’s history as our name.”

“That doesn’t have to change, Gus. The legend can be history. It just doesn’t have to dominate our lunch conversation, especially since we all know it’s just talk. Why don’t you draw on some of that cable-news knowledge and talk about something else?”

“I told you I’m not social.”

“You talk to Maggie just fine. We’re your friends, Gus. Just be yourself and leave the legend at the barbershop.”

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, confrontin’ me with this,” Gus finally said.

Nick stood and gave Gus a gentle pat on the back. “But that’s what friends do. I’ve got to go greet customers. Are we okay?”

“We will be. Thanks for not sayin’ anything in front of Maggie.”

“I saw her go into the kitchen,” Nick said, “and figured she was checking to see if we’re still living up to her standard. I miss having her waiting tables. You stole her right out from under my nose, you know.”

Gus turned and looked up, a twinkle in his eye and a grin beneath his mustache. “Not too bad for an old duffer with the social skills of a fire ant.”

Chapter 24

Stedman
sat in his truck and pulled the last few Oreos out of the wrapper, his gaze fixed on the Great Smoky Mountains and the vivid rainbow that formed a perfect arch from one end of the sky to the other. He wondered if Ethan could see it—and how well his family was holding up with his cousin’s funeral just fifteen minutes away.

“Was it something I said?”

Ralph Langley’s voice was loud and his laugh intrusive, but Stedman tried not to show his annoyance.

“Hey, Ralph. I just felt like being by myself rather than waiting out the storm with the guys.”

“I was just checking on you. Now that the sun’s out, it feels like a steam bath out here. I was hoping you didn’t have another of your headaches.”

“No, I’m fine. Just waiting for the cement trucks. I wonder how Ethan’s doing.”
And your brother’s family—not that you care.

“It’s a terrible thing that’s happened to my nephew
.
I told you my brother Richard and I have been out of touch for a long time, right?”

“That’s what you said.”

“I couldn’t very well go to my nephew’s funeral with so many unresolved issues. It’d be awkward for everybody.”

“I suppose so.”

“Some people might think I’m being cold. It’s not that I don’t care. I just don’t think this is the time to break the ice. I mean, we haven’t said two words in fifteen years.”

“Ralph, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah I do.” Ralph patted his shoulder. “I look like the bad guy in all this, and I’m really not. Though it really doesn’t matter what people think. Today’s not about me. I don’t have a relationship with Richard, and I’ll never have one with Drew. But Ethan’s like a son to me. I can’t get him off my mind.”

“Ever try making peace with your brother?” Stedman said.

“Sure I have. It’s complicated. Richard said some cruel things to me and apologized. But I believe he meant what he said, and I’ll never be close to him again.”

“I’m not close to my brother either. I just think Ethan and Drew were close the way
brothers
are supposed to be. They had something special, you know?”

Ralph sighed. “Yeah, they did.”

“You suppose the rainbow is some sort of sign—like God telling everyone that Drew’s okay?”

“I don’t know. They sure don’t get any prettier than that.” Ralph glanced at his watch. “I’m going to call and make sure the cement trucks are ready to roll. We’ve still got driveways to pour before we shut down for Memorial Day.”

Stedman crushed the Oreo wrapper and stuffed it in the sack. He wondered if Ralph would be surprised to know that he wasn’t the only one holding on to something he felt guilty about.

Ethan sat with his parents in the second row of Cross Way Bible Fellowship and listened to the organ playing familiar hymns that he knew would make the older adults happy. Drew would have preferred something contemporary.

He looked up through the huge cross window and saw blue sky. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with bad weather when they went to the cemetery for the burial.

Burial
. How he dreaded the thought of that final good-bye. He could file by Drew’s coffin and place a rose on it. But no one could decide for him when or how he was going to say good-bye. Or even
if
.

He glanced at the silver blue coffin and cringed at the thought of Drew being enclosed. Drew loved the outdoors—wide-open spaces. It seemed so wrong. Then again, it was just his body. Couldn’t his spirit soar in another realm?

He remembered the two of them as kids, capes tied around their necks, running down the street with their arms extended and pretending to fly like Superman, the wind tickling their faces.

His thoughts shifted to a breezy day the previous August when he and Drew had golfed together before they had to go back to school. Drew won by three strokes, but it was never about the score. It was always about spending time together. They promised to play again as soon as they came home for summer break. How could they have known they would never get that chance?

Ethan brushed off the tear that spilled down his cheek. He heard his mother and Aunt Becca quietly weeping and thought his heart would break. It was surreal—Drew in a casket, wearing a suit and tie, the collar of his shirt hiding the bullet hole in his neck.

Lord, how am I going to get through this? Why did you let Drew die so young—and so violently? And why did Vanessa have to see it? Hadn’t she been through enough?

He figured Vanessa was sitting with her dad and Emily somewhere behind him. Chief Jessup sat with the mayor and the sheriff across the aisle. She looked somber. They all did.

The organ music stopped, and Pastor Gavin Bonner came out and stood at the pulpit. The church was suddenly pin-drop still, almost as if everyone had breathed in and forgotten to exhale.

“My dear friends,” his deep voice resonated, “we gather today, not only to mourn Drew Langley’s death, but to celebrate his life—and his going home to be with His Lord and Savior …”

Ethan almost smiled when he spotted the cuffs of his white shirt and remembered his conversation with Vanessa the night before. He hoped Drew could see him because he knew he’d be impressed—and perhaps a little amused—at the sight of Ethan wearing a borrowed white shirt and stuffed into a suit and tie.

“As we walk Drew to the gates of eternity and part ways for now, we have the assurance that a glorious future awaits every person who has put his or her faith in the Son of God …”

Ethan tuned out Pastor Gavin’s words. He couldn’t afford to lose it. Not here. Not now.

He wondered what Drew was doing at this moment and if he had any memory of how he had died—or if all the things of earth were washed from his knowing. Did he see what was happening here? Did he know how loved he was? Or was all this for the living?

Tessa listened to Pastor Gavin, her thoughts wandering, her gaze moving from Brill to Vanessa and back to Brill. The sadness was heavy and almost tangible, and she wished it were possible to pick up the burden and carry it awhile to give the mourners a rest.

Twenty-one years old. What a waste. What might Drew Langley have contributed had he been allowed to live out his life?

And yet You, O Lord, had ordered his steps since before time began. You know him intimately and have called him into Your presence. Your timing is not our timing. Your ways not our ways. Father, comfort those who love this young man. Give them strength and the proper perspective.

Tessa sighed and held more tightly to Antonio’s hand. Brill would find the killer. She had no doubt of that. What must be going through Vanessa’s mind? Was the memory of the shooting terrifying?

Tessa could still see vivid images of the night she and Antonio and little Emily and Jasmine were held at gunpoint. Not that she welcomed the intrusion to her thoughts, but she could imagine Jesus there with them now, and the images no longer woke her up at night, her sheets soaked with anxiety. Fear no longer held her captive.

Lord, give Vanessa the grace to let go of the fear and not to be crippled by the memory of Drew’s death. And Lord, be with his parents. And with Ethan. The emptiness in their hearts must seem unbearable.

Antonio squeezed her hand, almost as if he could read her mind.

Tessa studied Brill, who looked very official in her dress uniform but a decade older somehow. How grieved she must be that four young people were cut down while she was in command—and that it hit so close to home.

Brill shifted her weight in the pew, her eyes searching the left side of the church. There they were. She finally spotted her family, glad to see Rachel Howell sitting next to Vanessa. Emily had linked arms with Kurt, her head on his shoulder. They all looked somber.

Pastor Gavin’s deep voice brought Brill back to the moment.

“And so it is with mixed emotions that we give the soul of Drew Maxwell Langley back to His Creator, who never once had him out of His sight. Lord, we do not pretend to understand the reason this young man has been taken from us, but we trust in Your infinite wisdom, Your unfailing love, and Your master plan that surpasses all understanding …”

Brill folded her hands in her lap and pretended to be listening but decided she could maintain her composure only if she didn’t hang on every word Pastor Gavin spoke. The sniffling and sobbing of Drew’s relatives was hard to take and fueled her commitment to finding the person or persons responsible for his death.

She’d been over it a hundred times in her head. If Drew and Tal had been involved in something illegal—or if they had information that could have incriminated someone else—it was not evident in their emails, in their phone records, or on anything found in their apartment. How could two college kids manage to cover their tracks like a couple of professionals?

A young man with a guitar strapped round his neck walked over to a microphone and began singing “It Is Well
.
”
But was it? Would it ever be until justice was served?

Brill saw Vanessa wipe the tears off her cheeks and Kurt slip his arm around her. She glanced over at Ethan. He sat still as a stone, his hands folded in his lap, his face expressionless. She could almost hear the sound of his heart breaking in two.

When does it stop hurting?
he had asked her.

Everyone’s different, Ethan. All I can tell you is that it does.

Brill blinked to clear the moisture from her eyes, keenly aware that unless she could bring closure, it might take forever.