Trial by Fire (24 page)

She closed her eyes, and sweet sleep fell over her.

B
y ten o'clock Jake had run out of places to look for Issie, and Nick was growing frantic with the search. At one point he had called the police station to see if there were any updates, and Sid told him that she hadn't been located yet. Benton had been found where Jake told them he would be, however, and he was, indeed, dead.

Nick had broken the news to Jake, and watched him cover his face and begin to weep. Somehow, the kid had been holding out hope that his friend had made it.

He looked over at Jake as he drove. “Jake, I think you need to go home now.”

“I told you, I can't. It's too dangerous. They're looking for me.”

“You need to at least tell your parents where you are. When they hear about Benton, they'll think you're dead somewhere too.”

Jake thought that over for a moment. “I want to. I really do. But I can't figure out how to do it without giving myself away.”

“Well, how about if I call your parents and have them meet us somewhere? If anybody's watching your house, they won't know where your parents are going.”

“What if they follow them?”

“I'll tell them to stay aware of it. They'll know. If they're looking, they'll know if someone's behind them.”

Jake looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to Nick. “All right,” he said, “but I hope this doesn't get anybody else killed.”

N
ick didn't tell Mike Mattreaux anything more than he had to. He asked them to meet him and said he needed to talk to them about Jake. Quickly, Jake's mother had grabbed the phone.

“Do you know where our son is?”

“Please, just meet me,” Nick had said, “and be careful. Don't let anybody follow you. If you think they are, then turn around and go back home and call me on my cell phone.”

Now he and Jake waited at the old abandoned gas station on the east side of town. As they waited, Jake leaned his head back against the seat. Nick could see how tired he was. He wondered how long it had been since the kid had had a good night's sleep.

“So what are you to Issie, really?” Jake asked him as they waited.

Nick was getting tired of this line of questioning. “A friend, I guess.”

“No, you're more than a friend.”

Nick met Jake's eyes and saw that he was searching. He hoped the kid didn't see more than Nick wanted to reveal.

“You two have something going, don't you?”

“No, we don't. We're cut from different cloth,” Nick said.

“You can say that again.”

Nick stroked his lip with a finger and gazed out the window. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

“I just heard about you taking her home from the bar the other night. And everybody's saying that you two are getting to be an item.”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” Nick said. “I like Issie. There's something about her that's really special.”

“Then you two do have something.”

Nick didn't want to talk about it anymore. In fact, he didn't want to talk about anything. He just wanted to rack his brain for other places he should look for her, and get down on his knees and pray as hard as he could that God would hear his prayers…and hers if she was praying…and get her out of the mess she was in.

They saw headlights coming up the road, and Jake stiffened. The car turned in.

“My parents,” Jake said.

Nick looked beyond them and saw that they were alone. “Nobody with them, nobody following.”

“Good,” Jake said. He got out of the car and stood beside the passenger door. The moment his parents saw him they slammed on brakes and lunged out of the car. Lois was already in tears.

“Jake, we've been looking all over for you! Where have you been? Are you hurt, son?”

Mike was more reserved as he came closer to his son. “Jake, you're not involved in anything criminal, are you?”

Jake evaded the question. “I got Issie in a lot of trouble, and right now we don't know where she is, but Cruz took her and, Dad, I think he's going to kill her. He'll kill me too, if he finds me.”

Mike's face went pale. “Have you called the police?”

“Yes,” Jake said, “they're looking for her. But they haven't found her yet, and it's been hours.”

Mike turned his desperate face to Nick. “What have you got to do with all this?”

“Jake came to me,” he said. “And I've been out looking for Issie.”

“Have you been hiding him all this time? Keeping him from us?”

“No,” Nick said. “He just came to me tonight.”

He swung back to his son. “How did Issie get involved in this?”

“She's been involved all along, Dad,” Jake said. “She snooped around where we were and saw things, and then she turned us in.”

“They already tried to kill her once,” Nick added. His voice cracked as he went on. “I'm worried about her, Mike. They're capable of anything.”

Mike looked sick as he ushered his son into the car, and then he turned back to Nick and asked him what was being done. When he'd updated him, Mike drove off to hide his son.

N
ick headed back to the police station, got an update on the search for Issie, and learned that she still had not been found. Every available police officer was looking for her, he was told, and off-duty cops were coming in to help with the search. They all took her disappearance personally, since they considered her one of their own.

But the all-out effort to find her had produced no results.

Frustrated and not knowing where else to look, he headed over to the fire station to ask for prayer. Mark and Dan were on duty, and George Broussard was filling in for Nick. Nick found all three of them in the kitchen, and he shuffled in. “Hey, guys.”

They all looked up from what they were working on.

“Hey, Nick,” Dan said. “I tried to call you awhile ago. I heard Issie was missing.”

Nick came into the kitchen and plopped down at the table. Mark set his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, man?”

“No, I'm not okay,” he said. “Her nephew said that his pals threw her into the trunk of a car and took off with her.”

“You're kidding me,” Mark said.

“No, she's in a lot of trouble if she's even still alive.” Tears burst into his eyes, and his mouth shook as he tried to hold back his despair. “Look, I came by tonight to ask if you would pray for her.”

“We have been,” Mark said. “You can count on us.”

“So what has Issie gotten herself into?” Dan asked. “Does this have to do with the killings and the church burnings?”

Nick nodded. “She knows who it is, and she gave Stan the names. It was exactly who I thought.”

“That Cruz kid?” Dan asked.

“You got it. And so help me, if I could get my hands on that kid…” He rubbed his mouth to cover his emotion. “But see? That's what's wrong with me. I took the wrong approach with him from the beginning. If I'd treated him like a fertile lost soul instead of a false teacher, maybe he wouldn't be so dangerous. Maybe I could have gotten through to him. I had the chance, but I blew it.”

“You were protecting our own youth,” Dan said. “What could you do? He wasn't going to listen to you.”

“He might have if I'd tried getting to know him instead of chewing him out. Now two people are dead, and Issie could be the third.” He drew in a deep breath and brought his tired eyes up to Mark's. “I need your help, guys. I can't preach at the service Wednesday night. I'm too distracted, and I don't feel worthy of leading that congregation in anything. Would you two lead the service for me?”

Mark and Dan looked at each other. “We could give our testimonies or something, or kinda give a pep talk to the congregation,” Mark said.

“Sure,” Dan told him. “We can work it out.” Dan pulled out a chair and sank down, looking intently at his pastor. “You're pretty shaken up, aren't you?”

Nick let out a deep sigh. “I can't stand the thought of her out there in trouble with a bunch of thugs…imagining what they could be doing to her, if she's even alive. And to think of her locked in a trunk…”

“Issie's strong,” Mark said. “She's tough. I once saw her fight a delirious wrestler. She can handle herself.”

“And I'm sure the police are doing everything they can,” Dan threw in. “I heard they're treating this like they would if she were a cop. She's one of our own in protective services. They'll find her.”

“They're not doing enough.” Nick buried his face in his hands and shook his head hard.

Dan and Mark were quiet for a moment, then finally, Dan spoke. “Man, you really have a thing for her, don't you?”

Nick looked at him over his fingertips. For a moment he was quiet. Then finally, he whispered, “I know what you two think of her. Her reputation. Even the experiences you've had. But she's a special person. I've seen her brokenhearted over accidents she's had to work. I've seen her cry over pain that little kids have to suffer. I've seen her work until she was about to drop to try to revive somebody who'd flat-lined. Even now she's in trouble 'cause she was trying to save her nephew.”

He looked up at both of them, pleading for them to understand. “I know she's not right for me. I know we're unequally yoked and all that. I know that it's pretty pathetic for a preacher to let a girl like Issie get under his skin, a girl who spends more time in the bars than she does in church. I know all that. But I didn't plan this. I know you think it's one of those damsel-in-distress kind of things, that I want to rescue her so I'm starting to think I have these feelings for her. Transference, or whatever…”

“It crossed my mind,” Mark admitted.

“It's not that,” he said. “Issie's gotten to me for the last couple of years. I don't know what it is about her. Just something. Maybe because she's so wrong for me. But I think I understand her better than most people do. She didn't have a good childhood, you know. She never knew her father very well, and her mother's value system was pretty messed up. She was never home. Issie and Mike practically raised themselves.”

“It's not like you, Nick, to make excuses for sin.”

“I'm not trying to make excuses,” he said. “She's responsible for her behavior and for who she is and what people think of her. But I'm just saying that she's deeper than that. There's more to it. When God looks at her, he sees more.” His voice broke off and his face twisted again, and he looked up at the ceiling. “God can see her right now. He knows where she is. Why won't he tell me?”

“You want us to pray with you, buddy?” Dan asked.

The tears spilled over Nick's cheeks, and he wiped them away quickly as if he couldn't let his friends see him this upset over a woman. “Yes, please pray with me,” he said, and together they all bowed and began to pray.

A
s he finally drove home, Nick had another bout with his tears. He brushed them away angrily and asked God why he couldn't just tell him where she was, why he couldn't lead him right to the car and get her out of that trunk if she was still there.

He didn't understand why God would take a woman who was so close to turning to him, who had given Nick opportunities to share with her in a way that he'd never had before. Why would he let him get so close, only to snatch her away?

She couldn't be dead, he thought. She had to be alive. This couldn't be the end of her.

As he pulled into his driveway and his headlights lit up the front porch, he looked to see if there was any one slumped there, as Jake had been earlier. Maybe she was hiding, waiting for him to come home. But he saw nothing.

He turned off his headlights and sat in the car, staring at the dark house. What was he doing? he asked himself. Living in a parsonage, acting as a shepherd to the flock that was without a house? Was he tainted because he'd fallen in love with a woman who didn't know the Lord? Did that disqualify him for service to Christ?

“I want to do your will, Lord,” he whispered. “I don't ask that she and I get together. All I ask is that you lead me to her, help me to find her. And if not me, somebody else. Lord, please help them to find her before she dies.” He closed his eyes as tears squeezed out. “I'm giving it up, Lord,” he said. “The calling. I know it wasn't real. I thought it was but I
can't
be called to do this. You're trying to tell me something, and I just don't know what it is. As soon as I find her, as soon as we know what's happened to her, I'll give up my church and you can bring in whoever you have called to that position. Someone who can lead them, protect them. Somebody strong, somebody who doesn't make so many mistakes.”

He suddenly felt like a dismal failure because he hadn't led Issie to Christ. She might be giving up her spirit at this very moment. If so, he would never forgive himself, and he'd never get over it.

He got out of the car and went into the house, miserable and knowing he wouldn't sleep. He would call the police station every hour and check to see if they'd found her yet. He wouldn't rest until he saw her again.

I
ssie woke up hungry. The hunger was a deep pain in the pit of her stomach, crying out to her loudly, demanding that she fill it. But there was nothing to eat. She didn't know if she would ever eat again.

“Is there food in heaven, Jesus?” she whispered, like a curious child who'd just been introduced to heaven as a new concept. Then she remembered hearing something about the marriage feast of the Lamb, how all the believers would be invited one day.

Would she be there, adorned like a bride at her own wedding? Would she be among all those in white? She couldn't picture herself in white. Scarlet, maybe. Yet the sense of cleanliness, of newness, washed over her as it had last night when she'd whispered her prayer to her Savior. She knew without a doubt that he had heard, and that he had accepted her, as she had accepted him.

“Me a bride,” she whispered. “Imagine that.” She hoped he would clean up her wounds, take the swelling away, heal the bruises. She didn't want to meet her Maker looking like this.

She reached for the bottle of water, unscrewed the top, and carefully took a sip. It went down her throat, filling her, nourishing her.

“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. She knew that she needed to ration it out, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to live long enough for it to matter. She was just so grateful that it had been there when she needed it. She had no doubt that God had prompted Cruz to put it there, probably weeks ago, then forget that he had.

Her head still ached and the gash on her leg had begun to swell. She suspected it was getting infected. She was thankful that it wasn't August, but even in the middle of October the heat sweltered in the building and turned the trunk into an oven.

Eventually the heat itself would kill her, if not the hunger. She hoped she could sleep until God saw fit to take her life.

But then she realized that something terrible was about to happen. The shooting was going to take place. When? What was today? Monday, Tuesday? She honestly wasn't sure. The hours had blended together, and the darkness had made it hard to mark the time.

Wednesday, Cruz and his thugs were going to show up at Aunt Aggie's and try to do away with the people of Nick Foster's church. Nick would be the first to go, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She began to weep again. “Lord, take me if you have to, but please don't take him. That church needs him. Oh, Lord, stop them somehow. Expose them. Let them all be locked up before the day even comes.”

But God didn't always answer prayers the way she thought he should, which was why she was bent up like a rag doll stuffed into the trunk of a car. She didn't know how God would answer her this time. All she knew was that he would…somehow…in a way that fulfilled his will.

 

N
ick spent the next two days looking for Issie again, and made the rounds to every place he could think of. He navigated his way to every fishing hole he'd ever heard about, both in and outside of Newpointe, and drove for hours and hours searching for any sign of her.

Finally, he called the elders of his church and asked them to come and pray with him for Issie tonight. He didn't know where she was or what he could do for her, but God did, and they needed to go to him.

Ten men showed up and sat in a circle in his living room, praying from deep in their hearts for the woman who wasn't even a part of them, because it was becoming increasingly obvious that Nick cared deeply for her.

He didn't even try to hide it anymore. His feelings were as obvious as the tears on his face.