The Sacrifice (22 page)

Leland loosened his suspenders. “That's not going to be a problem.”

The men piled three plates with their selections and carried the food and drinks across the road. Many years before, the church had built a rectangular, open-air structure along the banks of the creek. Underneath the roof was a long concrete table at the proper height for adults to stand and eat.

The bishop prayed. “Lord, thank you for this food. Bless Leland. Bless Scott. Don't delay. Release your blessing upon these men—today, tomorrow, and all the days of their lives. For Jesus' sake. Amen.”

Scott enjoyed the sound of the stream running over the rocks. The water was clear, making it hard to judge the depth of the water. Mr. Humphrey and the bishop reminisced about events that happened many years ago, and Scott listened. It was a history lesson by those who lived it.

At a break in the conversation, he pointed to a pool about ten feet from shore. “Is that where you baptize people?”

Alfred looked toward the stream. “Yes. It's about four and a half feet deep and cold even in August. I used to wear regular pants, but I've gotten soft in my old age and bought waders.”

“What happened the day the shots were fired?” Scott asked.

Alfred wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We'd finished a meal under the pavilion and at tables set up in the parking lot. The candidates for baptism went into the church to change, and I put on my waders. We came outside, and the ones who were going to be baptized stood on a flat rock beside the edge of the water and gave their testimonies while I waited in the stream. When each one finished, they waded out to me, and I baptized them. Leland, you know Nancy Knight, don't you?”

“Her husband works for a trucking company.”

“That's the one. We'd been praying twenty years for Nancy. She never could forgive her family for things that happened when she was a girl, and it kept her from coming to the Lord. She let go of the bitterness about a month ago during a revival meeting. When it was her turn to speak, she didn't stop after a few sentences. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and there weren't a lot of dry eyes in the congregation.”

The preacher pointed to an area of dense brush on the opposite side of the stream. “Nancy was wading out to me when I heard a couple of loud pops. I didn't see anything, but people on the bank saw one or two bullets hit the water not far from where we were standing.

“Everybody started running toward the church. Other shots followed. One shattered the windshield of Deacon Wade's car. Another hit the wall of the church. Nancy slipped. I caught her and helped her to the bank. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw someone running through the trees, heading downstream. Somebody called the sheriff 's department on a cell phone, and the deputies were here in a few minutes.”

“How clearly did you see the person who was running away?” Scott asked.

“It happened fast, but I'm sure he was wearing a blue shirt and had dark hair.”

Scott stared at the underbrush on the other side of the stream. “Are you sure he had dark hair?”

Bishop Moore nodded. “Positive.”

“Were you wearing your glasses?” Leland asked.

“Yes. I have to wear them. Otherwise, I wouldn't know which end to baptize.”

“Did anyone else see this person?” Scott asked.

“I'm not sure. After the first shots were fired, everyone was running away from the water, and he didn't come out from behind the trees until he was downstream. Everyone gathered in the church until the police arrived. It took a while for the people to calm down. Nobody wanted to go outside, and we kept the children away from the windows.”

“How long did you stay in the church?”

“Not long. About thirty minutes later a detective told us there had already been an arrest. That made a big difference. He asked questions and several people remembered different things, but I think I was the only one who saw the one who fired the shots.”

“Did you see a gun?” Scott asked.

“No, but those bullets didn't fall out of the sky. Someone was aiming in our direction, and I didn't see anyone else on the side of the stream. I'm just thankful no one was hurt or killed.”

“We are, too,” Leland said.

“Did you tell the detective what you told us?” Scott asked.

“Yes. He was taking notes.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that's it.”

“Okay, I have one more question,” Leland said.

Alfred waited.

The older lawyer picked up his empty plate. “What are our choices for dessert?”

On the way back to the office, Scott told Leland about his interview with Deputy Ayers.

“The deputy told me Lester was wearing a camouflage T-shirt and blue jeans at the time of his arrest.”

“He could have taken off his shirt as he ran down the stream.”

“Possibly. But what about the dark hair? You've seen Lester. He is bald as an egg.”

“Yeah,” Leland nodded. “That was interesting. Very interesting.”

17

Weeping may endure for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.

PSALM 30:5 (NKJV)

O
n Friday afternoons, the number of lawyers at Humphrey, Balcomb and Jackson quickly thinned out after three o'clock. Following the bounteous lunch with Bishop Moore, Leland Humphrey went home for a midafternoon nap on the couch in his den. Scott stayed until all the partners left the office. He didn't work very hard after three o'clock, but the perception of activity was sufficient for Friday afternoons. His basic goal was to avoid the receptionist broadcasting his name over the general phone system—a sure sign that a lawyer had sneaked out of the building. When the coast was clear, he went down the back stairs and drove to the gym.

The small parking lot was more crowded than usual. He finished his second series of leg exercises performed while lying on his stomach when Perry joined him.

“How's school?” Perry asked.

Scott rolled over onto his back and sat up. “I'm still learning.”

“Is English your favorite subject?”

Scott smiled. “You're really on this thing, aren't you?”

Perry shook his head. “It's not me; it's Linda. She asks me every couple of days if I've talked to Scott about Kay Laramie. She has a bad case of matchmaker fever.”

“Buy her some flowers. Maybe she'll focus on you instead of me.”

“That won't work. I'm already caught. Now, she's working on the rest of the world. If I could charge money for the couples she's put together, I could give you a free membership. She claims direct responsibility for three marriages in our church last year.”

“I'm a hard sell,” Scott said.

He moved to the station set up for leg presses and sat down. He selected a large amount of weight and did a set of twenty-five.

“Make sure you push equally,” Perry observed. “You're using your right leg more than your left.”

“My left knee aches at full extension,” he replied.

Scott rubbed an indention that creased his left leg above his knee. It was twice as large as the scar on his right hand.

“Back off the amount of weight until you can do it evenly.”

Scott moved the pin to a lower level and did another set of twenty-five.

“That's better,” Perry said. “So, what do I tell Linda? She's going to be after me as soon as she finds out you were in the gym today.”

“Don't tell her that you saw me,” Scott suggested.

“That won't work,” Perry responded. “She'll know it immediately if I lie to her.”

“Not saying anything isn't lying.”

“It is to Linda.”

Scott smiled. “For such a strong guy, you're a wimp.” He pushed through one final set with the leg press. “Okay,” he said when the weights clanged down for the last time. “Tell her I'm taking Kay to the football game in Lincolnton tonight. We're riding together and will probably get something to eat after the game. But it's not a date. I've already told her I just want to be friends.”

Perry stood up and patted Scott on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Oh, one other thing,” Scott said. “I went to the courthouse and checked on her divorce.”

“And?”

“She didn't want it, but it looks like her husband is going to push it through anyway.”

“When will it be over?”

“I didn't see a notice of final hearing in the file. Until then, remind Linda that Kay's last name is Wilson, not Laramie.”

By the time he drove home, cleaned up, and took care of Nicky, Scott was ten minutes late getting to the high school. He hated being late and sped across the parking lot to Kay's classroom. Her car wasn't there. The football team and the band had left for the game in buses, and the students' vehicles were scattered across the parking lot. He drove up and down the rows of cars. No sign of Kay or her vehicle.

He glanced toward the lower exit for the lot and saw a blue car going over the hill away from town. He stepped down hard on the gas and shot out of the parking lot, barely missing a minivan coming in the opposite direction. He accelerated up the hill, then had to slam on the brakes to avoid plowing into the rear of a slow-moving logging truck.

The truck was chugging slowly up the hill belching of diesel smoke that enveloped Scott in a pungent cloud. He held his breath and gripped the steering wheel tightly for several seconds. The truck was laboring along, and there was no place to pass on the winding road for at least five miles. Under normal conditions it was a thirty-minute drive from Catawba to Lincolnton. This evening it took Scott an extra fifteen minutes. By the time he arrived at the football field, the parking lot was full, and a policeman directed Scott and other latecomers to a Baptist church down the street.

A few fans were straggling across the parking lot to the entrance for the football field. The red and white of the home team predominated, but there was a respectable showing for the blue and gold of Catawba. Scott was buying his ticket when the Lincolnton fans stood to their feet and cheered as the home team ran onto the field.

Scott walked around the track to the Catawba stands. The seating provided for the supporters of the visiting team was completely inadequate for the number of people who had made the trip. There wasn't a vacant seat in sight, and many spectators were standing in small clusters behind the Catawba team bench. Scott scanned the crowd for Kay. No one waved to him, and he wasn't able to distinguish her face in the crowd. Still looking toward the stands, he turned around and knocked a box of popcorn out of a woman's hand. White kernels flew everywhere.

“Excuse me,” he said.

It was Kay.

“First, you stand me up, then you assault me,” she sputtered. “I stood in line for ten minutes to buy that popcorn.”

Scott started to bend down and pick up the scattered pieces but realized it would not help the situation.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'll buy you another one.”

“Why didn't you come to the school?” she asked. “Did you forget?”

“No, I was late, and you'd already left. I think I saw your car leaving the parking lot, but I ended up behind a logging truck and couldn't catch up.”

Kay looked past Scott, and he saw that her eyes were slightly red. There was something bothering her beyond a missed connection or a few pieces of popcorn on the ground.

“What's happened?” he asked.

Kay bit her lip. “I'm not mad at you. Jake called me on my cell phone while I was driving over here. I'm making it hard for him to get the divorce, and we got into an argument. He said some cruel things and hung up on me.” She wiped her right eye with her hand. “Sorry. I'll get control of myself.”

“That's okay.”

Kay sighed. “Let's walk. I lost my seat when I went to the concession stand.”

The game started. Scott looked toward the field to see who received the opening kickoff but didn't watch the rest of the play. They walked slowly around the track. Once they reached the area behind the end zone the crowd thinned out, and they were alone.

“I know men don't like it when a woman is emotional,” Kay said. “It infuriated Jake when I became upset about something.”

Scott didn't respond. A woman's emotions made him uncomfortable, too.

“Do you remember what I said last night on the steps outside your classroom?” he asked.

“About friendship?”

“Yes. I don't have any advice about your divorce, but I want you to know that I care.”

It didn't take much kindness to touch Kay's heart. She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and walked away from the field into the shadows. Scott could tell she was crying. He followed a couple of feet behind her and positioned himself so that her willowy form was hidden from view behind his broad one.

The crowd yelled loudly as the pendulum of football fortunes swung wildly back and forth under the bright lights. But at the edge of the game, real life was lived in the shadows. When the waves of sadness grew less intense, Kay turned around.