Blackmail (12 page)

She grabbed his glass of water from the table and tossed it in his face. “You're worse than they are—you're a fake. I'm sorry I ever met you.”

Sadie turned on her heel and stormed from the café.

He pulled several paper napkins from the dispenser and dabbed at his face, still staring after her, even though she was well out of sight.

“Looks like you blew it, buddy,” a fellow diner said.

The guy was right. He'd blown it good this time.

And hadn't a clue how to fix it.

C
ooyon!
She'd acted just like a
coyoon.
Sadie slammed the side of her fist against the steering wheel. How could she have made such a scene in public? She'd lost control of her tongue. And her actions, apparently. She'd actually thrown water in Jon's face. Was she resorting to her old ways? Mortification settled in her chest.
Dear Lord, please, no.

It mattered not that part of her anger had been righteous—defending Caleb when he'd begun making great strides in rebuilding his life. There was never an excuse for moving out of the will of Father. She'd given in to her anger just as she had in the past. She was supposed to be beyond this. Tears fell as she jerked the car to the side of the road. It shuddered to a stop in a cloud of dust.

Condemnation oozed over her like water from a soaked sponge. No, Pastor had told her that was wrong…that was the great liar whispering to her. The Holy Spirit moved in her—conviction, never condemnation. And her spirit knew what she had to do.

She lowered her head until her forehead rested against the steering wheel. From the depths of her heart spoke her soul.
Father, forgive me.

While a blast of emotion didn't wash over her immediately, she knew she'd been forgiven. She dried her tears, checked the rearview mirror and steered the car back onto pavement.

She'd just pulled into the driveway, killed the engine, stepped
up to the porch and unlocked the front door when a car whipped in behind hers. The engine hummed as Caleb exited from the passenger seat. Sadie stared for a moment, realizing she recognized the car from somewhere. But where? When Caleb shut the door and gave a wave, the car backed out of the driveway and turned. She caught a glimpse of the driver—Lance Wynn.

“Hey. You're home early from your lunch date.” Caleb lumbered up the stairs to join her on the porch.

“I didn't know you knew Lance. I thought you said you were going somewhere with your friends from summer school.”

“No, you just assumed that. I just said I was going out with a friend.” He pushed open the door and stepped into the foyer.

Sadie followed, welcome coolness surrounding her as she shut and locked the door behind her. “But Lance? How do you know him?”

Caleb headed to the kitchen and retrieved a soft drink. He popped the top and took a long swig before narrowing his eyes and studying her. “You look like you've been crying. What's wrong? What happened?”

She'd have to show him the copy of Jon's report. Would it make him revert to his sullenness? Make him feel like if he was going to be perceived in a certain manner, why should he be different? She knew that mentality well—had lived it for many years.

He set the can on the counter and let his arms dangle. “Sadie, what happened?”

She blinked away the tears. “I, uh, had a disagreement with Jon.”

“About your friend?”

“Not exactly.” She leaned against the bar stool and picked at the loose paint.

Caleb straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “About me?”

She sighed. No point in delaying putting the ugly truth out in the open. She reached into her purse and pulled out the papers and passed them to her brother.

He frowned, scowled and then his face turned as red as the
soda can on the counter. “No ability for rehabilitation?” His stare met hers.

She swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat. “I know. I'm so sorry, Caleb.”

“And he sent a copy of this to the state?”

“Yes.”

He tossed the papers onto the counter. “What'd he say when you confronted him?”

“Well, he didn't say much. But to be fair, he didn't have much opportunity.”

Caleb huffed. “Don't see why you should be fair. He wasn't.”

“I shouldn't have acted as I did, though. That was wrong of me.”

“What'd you do?” Her brother's eyes lit up.

She ducked her head. “I threw a glass of water in his face.”

Caleb's laughter brought her head up with a snap. His deep laughter, a sound she'd never heard, warmed her. And it was contagious. She giggled. Snorted. Then flat-out laughed. Hard. Until tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.

She covered her mouth and fought to stop chuckling. “I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong.”

“It's funny.” Caleb kept laughing.

“It is now, but it wasn't then. And it was in the café, at lunchtime on a Saturday, so it was pretty full.”

Caleb chuckled harder. “Bet he was embarrassed.”

That sobered her. “And I should apologize.”

“After what he wrote? Not hardly.”

Oh, part of her so agreed with her brother. But her spirit determined otherwise. “You've heard the saying that two wrongs don't make a right, yes?”

“Yeah. So?”

Oh, Father, help me with the words that will reach him. Open his heart to Your understanding and wisdom.

“Well, he was wrong in what he reported, no argument there, but my being ugly doesn't change his report, does it?”

“Doesn't change it, but sure makes ya feel better, don't it?”

She considered her emotions, not willing to lie to Caleb. “At that moment when I threw the water in his face, yes, I felt like I had
done
something about an injustice.”

“See?” He smiled wide.

“But that's wrong, Caleb. It doesn't change anything in his report, now does it? All it did was embarrass him and make me feel bad for acting out. It accomplished nothing.”

“But it made you feel better when you actually did it, right?”

“And that's my point—we can't act on feelings. Or we shouldn't.”

“Who says?”

Sadie took a deep breath. “Scripture.”

“So you really do read the Bible and believe all that?”

“With all my heart and soul, yes.”

“Hmm.” He wore a pensive expression. “So, about the report. What do we do?”

He'd had enough of the spiritual talk for now. That was okay—she remembered how she'd had to have lots of little doses before she was ready to hear the big parts. Had to plant the seeds before they could be nurtured and grow. “Now that I've calmed down, I realize that was his initial report. From the first day in his office and his first home visit. Things have changed since then.”

“You mean I'm not rude and obnoxious anymore?” Laughter crept into his voice and eyes.

“Well, I wouldn't go that far….” She giggled. “But, I think his next report will be more favorable. As long as he doesn't mention my behavior today.” She shrugged. “I guess I should've let him explain. That's probably what he tried to say.”

Caleb stared at her in a serious, contemplative way. “You like him, don't you?”

“I do like him. What he's doing for our friend goes well beyond his job. That says a lot about a person, yes?”

“No. I mean you like him, like him. Like flowers-and-candy-type like him.”

That lump had returned to her throat. “You mean romantically?”

“Yeah. You like him in that romantic-y way, right?”

And she'd just determined she wouldn't lie to Caleb. She let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I think I might.”

“The report aside, he hurt your feelings because he didn't tell you about it.”

The kid was too astute for his age. “
Oui.
But I guess he had his reasons.”

“What's God say about hurting someone else's feelings?”

She was really out of her element. She'd been a Christian for only a year, not someone who'd been studying God's word for years and could spout off Scripture at the drop of a hat. But Caleb waited for an answer.

God, I need a little more help here. Give me the words to bring glory to You.

“Well, you should never do something to intentionally hurt someone else.”

“That's in the Bible?”

“Not exactly like that, but basically, yes.”

“No matter if they're good or bad?”

This witnessing business was so much harder than she'd ever thought. It'd looked so easy for Pastor and his wife when they'd led her to Christ. “I don't think we get to play favorites. God doesn't.” A flash quickened against her mind again. “Scripture says, ‘Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.'”
Wow, thanks, God. You're so good.
“I think that's pretty clear that we don't get to pick and choose who we honor and who we don't.”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah, I guess I get that.” He shoved off from the counter. “But I still don't have to like what he put in his report. Or that he hurt your feelings.”

And that last sentence brought new tears—ones of joy—to her eyes.

 

Self-disgust didn't come close to how he felt.

Jon drove around Lagniappe, not even paying attention to his
direction. All he knew was that he'd insulted and hurt Sadie at a critical time in their blooming relationship. A relationship he'd been more excited about than he'd ever thought possible.

He could kick himself. He needed to apologize and explain. More apologizing than explaining.

It suddenly dawned on him that he'd headed toward Sadie's house without conscious intent. His subconscious knew where he needed to go. Had to go.

One right turn later and his car crawled down her street. All of a sudden, his mouth went dry and adrenaline pushed through his veins. He eased into her driveway, both relieved and anxious to see her car parked under the carport. Apprehension slowed his movements as he tromped to the porch.

What was he going to say to her? Would she even agree to see him? He wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

The front door swung open before he'd even made it to the steps. Caleb's hulking form centered on the porch after closing the door behind him. Afternoon shadows caught the stubble on the young man's set chin.

Great. He'd have to explain his report to Caleb, as well. There was no doubt in Jon's mind that as upset as Sadie was, she'd shared the report with her brother. He took a tentative step toward the porch and nodded. “Caleb.”

Caleb moved to block Jon's ascension. “Mr. Garrison.” Oh, yes, by his tone and demeanor, Caleb definitely knew about the report.

“Is your sister here?”

“Yep.” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. He wouldn't make this easy.

Jon jammed his hands into his pockets. “Can I see her?”

“I don't know, can you?”

“Cute. Please tell her I'm here.” Unease made Jon pull his hands from his pockets to hang limply at his sides.

“You know, you really hurt her. Hurt her feelings. Made her feel like garbage.” Caleb glared. “You made her cry. That's not
cool, dude. Regardless of what you think of me, that was low. She didn't deserve that.”

She'd cried? Jon wanted to sink into a hole and let the grass cover him. “I need to explain to her. To you, too.”

“Hey, dude, what you put in the report is your business. I know how you guys are—thinking you're above the rest of us because of the power you hold over us. Hold it all in your hands. God-complex and all that. I don't care about your power or your stupid opinion.”

“You don't?” Jon hadn't been prepared for that. Well, he hadn't been expecting the God-complex analogy, but he could understand how Caleb would perceive a probation officer as such. He'd been prepared for Caleb to argue his ability to rehabilitate. To disagree with the entire report.

“Nah, dude. Your opinion matters to the state, sure, but to me? I couldn't care less what you think of me.”

That statement was more like the Caleb he knew. Jon could handle a belligerent kid. “So why are we standing out here having this discussion?”

“Because what I do care about is that you hurt my sister. She does care what you think. And she wasn't hurt so much by what you wrote but that you didn't tell her. She just got that in the mail and it blindsided her.” Caleb shook his head and continued to glare. “Not cool at all, dude.”

As if Jon didn't feel like a heel enough.

“Especially considering you were makin' your move on her last night.”

The back of Jon's neck felt as if it were being jabbed by a hot poker. “It wasn't like that.” What did the kid know?

“Yeah, whatever. Tell me you weren't going in to suck face when I busted out on the patio last night.”

Maybe the kid
did
know something after all. “I really don't think it's appropriate to discuss this with you.”