Boo Hiss (26 page)

“Oh, but you should try my lemon tart. It can fool you. It’s dusted on the top with powdered sugar so you think it’s going to be nice and sweet, but as soon as you bite into it, it’s really sour.” Ainsley folded her arms and stared hard at Katelyn. This was a woman she was beginning to not like much at all.

“Willem, honey, we have to go.”

“So quickly?” Ainsley left the smile on her face.

“Tomorrow is going to be a big hit. But right now I have to go to the town hall.”

“Why?”

“I have to address the picketers who are marching up and down the front steps and making reference to the devil.”

Wolfe was not sure he’d ever felt more exhausted. The anxiety over the day that had followed him from place to place since this morning seemed to build with every hour. If he could just put himself out of his misery. Or find Butch. He’d managed to make it through the rehearsal saying most of his lines correctly, and trying his best to portray the ghost of a dead actor who had now become the narrator to the love life of a small town.

Lois had lectured everybody about what time call was, then had to
explain that no, she wasn’t going to call them on the phone to tell them to come, that it was the name for what time the cast arrived before a play. She then set out the schedule for the final rehearsal.

He was walking out the back when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the sheriff.

“Hey there!” Wolfe said. “You did a great job tonight. Really. You don’t have the easiest part.”

The sheriff shrugged. “Thanks. It’s kind of fun.”

“You look upset. Are you okay?”

The sheriff pulled Wolfe into a quiet corner. “I think I’ve upset Lois. All week I’ve been trying some suggestions from Butch. I don’t know how, but he knew about Lois. The guy’s got a sixth sense or something.”

“Um … what kind of suggestions?”

“Well, you name it, I’ve tried it. I wore a hot pink shirt. Butch said that it shows I’m secure with my manliness. I tried to text-message her, but I got a little confused. I tried to send
U R 2 GR8
, but I think it might’ve read
R U280#
.”

Wolfe winced. That probably didn’t go over well.

“She’s been pretty cold to me tonight. I’ve tried to talk to her several times, and she just kind of blows me off. I can’t imagine what I’ve done. My only thought is that maybe she’s decided she likes Martin better.”

Martin had scurried out of there ten minutes ago mumbling something about picketers and the mayor’s new jogging habit.

“Maybe she’s just nervous about the play.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. To tell you the truth, Wolfe, I’m having a hard time figuring this woman out. I’m trying really hard. I swear it. But when you get down to it, I don’t know what to do with her or how to make her feel secure. Things are so much different these days. Love seems different. How do I know what she’s thinking?”

“I can’t say I’m an expert on women,” Wolfe said, “but I can tell you
that I was once a really good writer, and if I had to guess, the best way to figure out Lois is to take a close look at her play.”

“What do you mean?”

“Study it, you know? Every writer puts at least a little bit of himself or herself into the work.”

The sheriff looked down at the script he was holding. “The thing is … I don’t get this play. Nothing about it makes sense. Except the ending. Bart gets the girl. That’s all I know. It jumps around so much it nearly makes me dizzy trying to figure it all out. So I stopped trying to figure it out. I just say my lines when I’m supposed to, and everything seems to work out.”

“Maybe you need to read between the lines. Why is this character of Lotus so important to the play? to the writer?”

“I’m a logical man. I see things in black and white.”

“For example, my book
The Empty House.
It was about an old, abandoned house that’s surrounded by ghostly legends. A lonely teenager makes it his home and becomes attached to the ghosts there, who end up killing anyone who tries to harm him. Years later, I realized that grew out of my feelings of abandonment when my parents died.”

The sheriff was shaking his head.

“I wish I could be of more help,” Wolfe said.

“Maybe I’ll give it a try. Go home and study it, figure out what she’s trying to say about the world. Right?”

“That’s a good start.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Hey, have you seen Butch today?”

“Butch? No, I haven’t. Not since early this morning. Why?”

“No reason.”

“He may be at the rally.”

“What rally?”

“Over at the town hall. I’m headed there now. Apparently there’s an uproar over flavored coffee or something.” The sheriff left, and Wolfe fell against the wall, slapping his hands against his face.

The last thing Lois had told them was to get a good night’s rest so they’d be refreshed for tomorrow’s dress rehearsal. Good luck with that.

“Oliver?” Melb asked. “You seem uptight. Are you okay?” She’d watched Oliver move from room to room all evening, like he was looking for a set of lost keys or something.

“Just a stressful day at work.”

“Look, I know Wolfe isn’t the most talented salesman who ever lived, but there will be other cars.”

“You can’t think that way,” Oliver said, coming out of the guest bedroom for the fourth time this evening. “Every car could be your last.”

“Well, sit down, will you? You’re making me a nervous wreck.”

He stopped and looked at her with sincere eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do that. How are you feeling otherwise?”

“Good,” Melb smiled. “I’m feeling optimistic about our future, very relaxed.” She glanced at the clock. “Oh my goodness! Oliver, hurry! Fluff the pillows! Pick up the newspapers on the floor! Oh! Where’s my dust rag?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“The reverend will be here any moment!”

“So?”

“He’s our pastor! We can’t possibly let him see how we really live! Hurry! Over there! Close the door to the movie cabinet!”

The doorbell rang.

She ran across the living room scooping up everything she could. She dumped it into the coat closet.

“How do I look?”

“Fine.”

“Do I look serene?”

“You are breathing hard.”

The doorbell rang again.

“Why is Reverend Peck here, anyway?”

“I asked him to come by and bless the baby and our future and our … secular sports magazine!
Ahh!”
Melb waggled her finger at the coffee table. “Oliver, get it, hurry!”

Oliver rushed over, and as he was sliding it under a couch cushion, Melb answered the door. “Reverend Peck, so nice to see you. Won’t you come into our home?”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping in.

He was about to take off his coat. “Oh, you better keep that on. It’s chilly in here,” Melb said, stepping in front of the coat closet just in case he got a crazy idea like putting his coat in there.

He shook Oliver’s hand. “I hear congratulations are in order, Oliver. The secrets out.”

“It was Wolfe’s fault!” Oliver shouted.

The reverend’s hand slipped from his, and Melb gasped.

“The baby’s not yours?” the reverend whispered through the fright-fid expression on his face.

Oliver turned bright red. “The baby? I thought we were talking about … Yes, I mean. The baby’s mine. Of course, the baby. I thought you were talking about … the dust on the floor. Wolfe left the door open today.”

“Oh.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Melb said, eyeing her overwrought husband. “Were so thankfiü you could come by tonight.”

“I can’t stay long. I still have a few things to work out in my sermon for tomorrow. You two are coming to the special celebration, aren’t you?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Melb smiled. She had no idea what he was talking about, but then again, she’d been out of the loop for a while.

“Your new little one will have a children’s area.”

“You must be excited,” Oliver said.

“I’m an old man. Change is hard. Life goes so fast these days, much faster than I’m able to keep pace with. I just hope I’m doing the right thing.”

“This town is changing. We’ve gone from famous to obscure to a magnet for all that is suburban,” Oliver said. “I can’t say I mind. Business will increase for me, and that’s a good thing.”

“But what about our child? We have a chance to raise him or her in the small-town way that we were raised,” Melb said.

“I had an outhouse,” Oliver replied.

Melb smiled. “Skary, no matter what it’s been through, has always been peaceful, gentle, filled with nice people. There just isn’t any pretense here.” She glanced over at the sofa to make sure the magazine wasn’t sticking out from underneath the cushion.

Reverend Peck said, “God has always been with this town. I suppose all we can do is pray, and trust Him. We don’t have a whole lot of choice.” He turned to Melb. “Speaking of prayer, I believe you wanted a prayer to bless the precious child inside of you.”

Oliver put his arm around Melb and said, “And if you could, pray that all reptiles within twenty miles of Skary would die.”

C
HAPTER
25

W
OLFE COULDN’T EVEN MANAGE
to speak without yawning. Ainsley hadn’t noticed. She was too busy fretting about an uneven hemline she’d discovered this morning. Wolfe suggested she just change. Or at least that’s what he thought he suggested. Judging by her reaction, he thought he might’ve suggested she swallow carpet tacks.

He was sitting alone in the pew, as she was downstairs preparing something or other. They’d come early, so most of the parishioners hadn’t arrived yet. The church was quiet. Misty morning light swam through the room in straight, crisscrossing beams.

What little sleep he’d managed was fitful at best. He was more than worried about Butch. The man’s fanciful imagination about being a covert operative had apparently not translated into managing his way off of Gordon’s land. How was he going to explain all this if Butch didn’t show up?

And then there was Oliver, who’d been into the whole thing by accident and was no longer speaking to Wolfe. Bob and Fred could be anywhere in the house. Or long gone again. But Oliver had warned him not to even try to come back over. The last thing Melb needed was to find out the snake was in their house.

So here he sat. His entire world cracking and breaking like frozen glass. One wrong move and it could shatter. He was finding out that with relationship comes great risk for conflict and anger. He hadn’t been
out of his solitude for but a month when he’d been accused of poisoning the sheriff’s cat. It had seemed the entire town hated him.

Then he’d made a mistake that had gotten him fired while working for Oliver at the car lot. Oliver eventually forgave him, but it wasn’t overnight.

And now, here he sat, Oliver mad at him
again
for another flub over a car deal, and Butch possibly in harm’s way. Even his wonderful marriage was proving to be a challenge.

There was a part of him that longed for the solitude again. It was safer, wasn’t it? People couldn’t hate him because people didn’t know him. He might fail, but nobody would know about it. Now he was vulnerable. What was good about that?

A few parishioners were arriving, but Wolfe continued to sit quietly and ponder what used to be. Surely there was a balance. Somewhere.

He studied the cross that hung behind the pulpit. What would have made Jesus walk among people? People, he’d found, were unpredictable, hard to understand, testy, especially when they don’t get their way, and most of the time overly emotional. Why would He even want to be around it all?

In Wolfe’s view, life among people was a lot of extra work.

“Don’t turn around,” someone whispered behind him. So he turned around. It was Butch. “Don’t turn around!”

Wolfe faced the front again. Relief and anger exchanged places in his heart. “I’ve been worried sick!” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you contact me? Tell me you were okay?”

“I couldn’t. I’m being followed. By Tarffeski. Since yesterday. He’s here now. Three o’clock.” Wolfe shifted his eyes. Tarffeski was on the other side, reading a bulletin.

“Butch, don’t you think you’re a little paranoid?”

“That kind of statement is the exact reason I had to keep you out of the loop for a while, Wolfe.”

“You probably should just leave me out completely. I botched it all yesterday. I lost the snake.”

“I have the snake.”

“What?” Wolfe turned around.

Butch glanced around and then whispered, “If you can manage to keep your mouth shut, I’m going to be able to close the deal soon. But I have to do something about Tarffeski first. It’s too risky right now. I’ve found out that this snake is worth a lot more than I originally thought, and Tarffeski will stop at nothing to get it, including posing as a religious man. Please. With that kind of shirt? You need to keep a low profile about this. Don’t say a word to anyone about it. And I mean
anyone.
Do you understand me? You already blew it the first time. You’ve got a chance to do it right this time. I’ll be in touch. Until then, keep your mouth shut. Don’t even say the word
snake.
Got it?” Butch slipped out of the pew and left the building.

Wolfe turned to face the front, just in time to see Oliver walk down the aisle and give him a dirty look.

Reverend Peck stayed in his prayer office. He could hear the congregation gathering outside, ready for worship. He was the only one who was not.

After all these years, last night Reverend Peck came to the conclusion that he was, indeed, a simple man. And maybe that was why his church had always remained small and perhaps ineffective. Sure, there had been times when he’d made a difference. He certainly couldn’t deny that. But for the most part, he continued to pastor a small-town church
that was more their affectionate possession than their source of victory. He knew that God often worked in small ways to accomplish His bigger picture, but he wasn’t sure how small a thing He could work with.

The reverend sat in his favorite chair, his fingers tangled together, and asked God to bring a new, younger man. He was too old for this. He was starting to see that life was different now. Skary had been sheltered for so long that people didn’t know what else was out there. But he knew the world would eventually come knocking. And now it had. In the form of a petite blonde and her incorrigible son.

Who didn’t bother to knock as she came through his office door with cheer at her side.

“Good morning!” she sang. “It’s our big day! I just checked with Ainsley, and the refreshments are set to go. She’s done a terrific job decorating, too. It’s going to be perfectly festive. Now, I wanted to go over the service schedule with you. I’ve set up a stopwatch on your podium just so you can keep track of time. Ainsley’s set to start the coffee ten minutes before you’re finished, so we’ll want to be prompt. You’ll open as usual, with praise and prayer reports. Let’s keep it to three each. People tend to be long-winded, and since we have the children’s story time added, we don’t want to let things lag, especially since Lois has that cute little puppet show for the kids downstairs after their story time. Oh, and we have the special music—”

“What special music?”

“Didn’t I mention it? Our guest singer will be doing a lovely rendition of When the Saints Go Marching In.’ “ “Who is the guest singer?”

“Me. I’m assuming you’ve been practicing your children’s story—Noah’s ark?”

All eight pages of it.

“Now, we’ve got two minutes, and then you’re on. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just—”

Katelyn shoved a piece of paper in his hand. “This is the order of service, just in case you forget. Any questions?”

The reverend shook his head, and Katelyn smiled sweetly at him. “We’re so blessed to have a pastor like you. You are one of those rare men who stands up for what you believe in and isn’t afraid to speak the truth. Now go out there and preach the Word of God! Oh, and keep the sermon to fifteen. We’ll need time to hand out the brochure on the new children’s ministry afterward.”

Reverend Peck stood and followed Katelyn out of the prayer office. He walked onto stage and greeted everyone with one of his favorite scriptures, Psalm 20:1-5. He looked down at the schedule. In bold letters it read
PRAYER AND PRAISE TIME (3 ONLY)
. The reverend looked out across the crowd and said, “Would anybody like to share a praise or a prayer request?” He did this every Sunday, but there was never much response. There used to be a lot of the elderly praying for health concerns, but they’d died off due to poor health, and the praise reports were popular until the reverend had to point out that the intention was to acknowledge what God did rather than human accomplishments, such as a hole-in-one.

However, to his surprise, more than a few hands popped up. The reverend pointed to Elwood in the back pew. “Yes?”

“I’d like to pray that this town would be kept safe from the evil plotting of the devil.”

Okay …”

A woman stood and said, “I’d like to praise God for the way my business has picked up! Almost twenty percent in the last two weeks!”

“I’d like to ask for prayer for our teenagers, that they would not be tempted to wear anything that reveals a belly button.”

“I’d like to praise God for the fact that I can feel safe knowing my elderly grandmother can call me on my cell phone if she needs help.”

And back and forth it went. The reverend was trying to keep track of numbers, but he was so astonished people were actually speaking he lost count. Finally, amidst the shouting, he raised his hands to settle everyone down.

“My friends,” he said, “I know this is a difficult rime for us all. We see our town changing, right before our eyes. And while we can appreciate some of the modern benefits were encountering, it’s disconcerting to see things change—”

“We can’t hear you!” someone shouted from the back.

Reverend Peck looked down at the microphone that was perched, as it always was, on top of his podium. He tapped it a bit. “Is this thing on?”

Before he knew it, Katelyn was by his side. “I’m so sorry, Reverend. I forgot to give you this.” She stuck a plastic headband to the back of his skull that wrapped around his ear and then had a small, narrow wire that extended from the back of his ear to a couple of inches from his mouth. She whispered, “It’s a wireless microphone. That way you can move around if you want. Sorry, go ahead.” She was clipping something to his belt buckle.

The reverend looked across the congregation. Everyone was staring at him like he was about to say something important. He’d done a lot of preaching in his life, but never with anything on his head, though there was the time that a bird had gotten in and managed to dump breakfast right on his crown. It had really worked well into his message of the day: Living in Humility.

“Okay … um … like I was saying …” He couldn’t really remember what he was saying. Something about the old and the new. Well, he was
certainly a picture of that, wasn’t he? An old man standing up there with new technology strapped around his head. He couldn’t decide if he looked awkward or ridiculous. Either way, the service had to go on. He looked down at the schedule Katelyn had printed out for him. Story time.

“Today,” the reverend said, trying to ignore the wire hanging in front of his mouth, “we’re going to start a new tradition in our church.” He could’ve predicted the few grumblings at the word
new.
“As many of you know, we’re beginning a children’s ministry, and along with that, every Sunday we are going to have a story time. So, if all the children will come up front, we are going to read the story of Noah’s ark!”

He spotted two kids in the congregation. One little boy was already coming up to the front. The little girl was clinging to her mom, whimpering and shaking her head vigorously. The boy, dressed in slacks, a white shirt, and a tie, looked like a miniature deacon. All he needed was a plate. As he approached, the reverend recognized him as Willem, Katelyn’s son.

“Anyone else?” Reverend Peck asked hopefully. “Okay, then.” Reverend Peck sat on the top step of the platform and Willem didn’t look like he needed any direction. He sat down on the floor with his back to the congregation, crossed his legs, and folded his hands in his lap, slumping a little. Reverend Peck greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Willem.”

“Good morning.”

The crowd chuckled. It was a sweet moment. Maybe Katelyn had the right idea.

“This morning, we are going to read the story of Noah. Do you know about Noah?”

Willem nodded.

“It’s one of my favorite stories in the Bible.” Reverend Peck opened
up the picture book and began with page one. “Once upon a time, there was a man named Noah. Noah loved God and always tried to do what God told him to do. He was very obedient to God.” The reverend glanced up, smiled at the crowd, then looked at Willem. But Willem was frowning at him. Pointedly. Of course, nobody else could see this, thankfully, because Willems back was to the crowd. The reverend tried to continue. “One day, God spoke to Noah and told him to build a great big ark, which is like a boat.” Willem was now rolling his eyes into the back of his head and making monster faces. The reverend looked down at the book. He’d already lost his place. “Um … a big ark, which is like a boat. God was displeased with the people of the earth, because
they were being bad”
Willem gave him an evil grin and stuck his tongue out. The reverend was sure he couldn’t hide the shock of that. He cleared his throat, and looked up at the crowd, who seemed oblivious to the distraction. They were all smiling and tilting their heads like a baby was being baptized.