Halos (23 page)

“And we need to get through to make your dinner,” Ben said.

“What are we having?” Lyn looked into his face.

“Let’s see … worm stew, crispy crawlies, and—”

“Eww!” Both voices squealed.

Alessi’s heart squeezed. What a great family they would be. Gloom such as she rarely experienced gripped her. She had to go. Any minute she’d be in tears, and she could not bear Steve’s comfort. She had felt too much in his embrace, and now her doubts were eating her up. The smell of the fire was suddenly thick in her nose, and she wanted air.

She had to be crazy to think there was something wrong with Steve. She was the one out of sync. The Christmas tree, scenting the room with subtle pine and hung with fishing flies, the singing voices of children—once again she was the one looking in with longing. Like Dickens’s Ebenezer outside his nephew’s party. She grasped at past memories of her mother, of other Christmases, of games and imaginations, but they only made her want to cry.

Ben said, “I’ve got some canned stew or spaghetti we could heat up without too much fuss.”

Alessi’s chest quivered. She had to go. If Ben opened one can she would fall apart. What was happening? She slipped out of Steve’s arm and went to the window. The wind had died down while she slept, only occasional gusts tossing the snow now. The sky was clearing, too, though it was still cloudy near the setting sun.

She thought of the sun’s halo that had brought her there. Where was its promise? Angels could not guard her heart. They might keep her safe from harm, but they could not shield her from her own hurt. She had to do that. And she couldn’t do it with all the crazy thoughts spinning in her head.

She went to the closet and took out Steve’s jean jacket. While everyone argued over what to heat for dinner, she slipped out the front door.

Thirty

S
TEVE WATCHED HER WALK OUT. Story of his life. She had seemed all right earlier, then she’d fallen asleep and woken miserable. A bad dream. And he’d been in it. Maybe the threat of another kiss was just too much. He should not have leveraged it, made it seem rapacious. He’d been playing, but she obviously hadn’t taken it that way.

He’d driven her out of the warm house into the cold. Maybe she just needed some space. Then he shook himself. She shouldn’t be out there alone. He wouldn’t expect anyone to bother her today, but he hadn’t anticipated any of the other times.

Was someone out there watching her, stalking her? She’d been followed home from Mary’s. Steve eased Lyn off his lap and stood up. Ben was insisting worm stew built strong bones. The girls were not buying it.

Steve put on his leather coat and went out. The air, between gusts, was not too cold, and the wind had definitely lost its punch. He searched around until he saw Alessi standing near the gas pumps in front of Ben’s station. Had she thought her car would be back? She lowered her head and started toward the store.

He’d give her room, just keep an eye out. He reached the pumps. If she turned around she’d see him, but she kept her gaze forward and walked on. She stopped outside his store and looked into the window a long time. It could not be the display that had her entranced; must be something in her own mind. Probably wondering why she ever walked through the door and put herself at his mercy. It had been one hurt after another ever since.

He waited. Would she be upset he’d followed her? He just didn’t want her frightened or hurt. He wanted to guard her. Why? And from whom?

She started down the side between the stores, and he tensed. It appeared no one was out except them, but he couldn’t be sure. He hurried across the street and past the gift store. Her shriek shot fire through his veins, and he ran.

Alessi dropped the sleeve of the sweater, the ribboned cashmere she’d wished to have back. But it wasn’t the sweater that had wrenched the scream from her. She pressed her hands to her face, shuddering. That poor animal.

Why—who?

She sensed, as much as heard, someone lunging at her. Adrenaline spiking, she spun, fists ready, but he caught her arms.
Steve! Fight—run—cry
.

“What’s the matter?”

Shaking, she pointed to the snow-blown bundle on the stoop outside the door. “That’s my sweater.”

“From your car?” He looked down and kicked the bundle open. The skull was fresh enough to have flesh and fur still clinging. The arms of the sweater had been tied around it, and when she’d stooped to pick it up … Why would someone do something so horrible?

Steve caught her shoulders. “You’re staying at the house. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He tugged, but she stood rooted. Fear worse than ice water chilled her spine. Was it a dog? She tried to shake away the horror, but it clung. Cruelty she could not grasp.

“Come on, Alessi.” He tugged her arm.

She didn’t move. Who could do that? Rivers of ice water wouldn’t hurt as bad. Steve tugged again. If someone would hurt a creature just to terrify her …

Steve made her look at him. “Alessi, come with me now.”

She swallowed. “I need my things.”

“Okay.” He took the key from her hand and let her into the building, but he didn’t follow immediately. The Dumpster lid clanged outside.

Steve came in as she took down the stiff frozen things she’d hung last night and folded them. He grabbed her toothbrush, hairbrush, and dryer and put them into a packing box. Then he folded the blankets from the cot and laid the pillow atop. “What else?”

“Nothing.” She clutched her clothes to her chest. What else did he think she had?

“Come on.”

Her teeth were chattering when they returned to the house, but she hardly felt the cold. She stopped at the door. “Was it a dog?”

“I don’t know.”

She couldn’t believe he could hurt something. But she couldn’t believe it of anyone, so what did she know?

Ben had carols playing and the tree was lit. The power must have come on between their leaving the store and getting home. Mary gathered up her girls, and it all seemed as cheerful and warm as when she’d left.

“Sure you won’t stay for worm stew?” Ben helped Mary on with her coat.

“I have things to do still.” She gave him a meaningful look. “And the girls have to hang their stockings for Santa.” Mary gave her a little wave, and Alessi raised her fingers automatically.

Steve added the things she held to his box and set them on the table. It would take a while for the house to heat up again, but near the fire it was baking. He seated her on the couch and crouched before her, chafing her hands. “Can I get you something?”

She shook her head, unable to stop her imagination. “It was a little dog.” She sank back, stunned afresh.

“Don’t think about it.”

But the animal was dead, and whoever did it must not care at all.

Steve didn’t like her fixation. It was almost hypnotic, the grip this incident had taken on her mind. None of the insults and attacks on herself seemed to have hit her as hard as seeing that skull. He had to admit it was grisly. Who in Charity would do such an ugly thing? Maybe everyone else had it right; it couldn’t be someone he knew.

Alessi groaned. “Why are people so cruel?”

Another thing he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know. I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

Grisly as it was, it seemed to have had a much more troubling effect on her than it would on someone else. He sensed an overwhelming innocence, as though evil astonished her every time she encountered it. Even his unkind words had caught her off guard, and she wasn’t protected for the next time. The ugliness in the world left no mark on her, nothing she could use to understand the next encounter. What had she said? She needed to build up her resistance? How would she? How did she keep darkness from tainting her?

The CD soloist sang,
“O holy night, the stars are brightly shining.”
The fire crackled and its scent filled the room. Steve wanted to hold her, but if he did he’d never let go. He turned and stared into the flames, willing the urge to pass. They sat for long slow minutes.

Ben came in and closed the door. Seeing them, his face sobered. “What’s the matter?”

Steve squeezed her knee and stood up.

Ben sat down beside her. “What’s the matter, Alessi?”

The door opened, and Dave came in, stomping the snow from his shoes and puffing. “Boy, did I get—” He took in their expressions and stopped. “What’s wrong?”

Well, good, they’d only have to go through it once. Steve said, “Someone wrapped a skull in one of her sweaters.”

“My best one.” Her hands squeezed white.

It wasn’t the sweater that was stunning her, but somehow the scum had added insult to injury by choosing that particular sweater.

Dave pulled off his coat and hung it. “What sorta skull?”

Steve frowned. “Probably a dog.”

“That’s just mean.” Dave went over and flanked her other side.

Alessi pressed her hands to her face. “I wish he hadn’t hurt that poor dog.”

Steve paced. “He could have found the skull. Maybe a fox or raccoon. Roadkill.” He’d rather believe that than the alternative. If someone could kill an animal …

Ben looked at Steve. “Should we call Cooper?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve tried that. He’s not willing to break the pact.”

Ben frowned. “Let’s not—”

Alessi looked up, grabbing him with her gaze. “Pact?”

Steve searched her face. Why had someone targeted her? Did evil sense her innocence? Or was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Her car, her misfortune.

Ben and Dave squirmed, but she needed to understand why nothing was being done to help her. “Six years ago, something happened here in Charity—before it was called Charity.”

Ben said, “Steve, I—”

Steve glared him down. No one else would tell her. They’d given their words. He had come into it after the fact and only partly bought in. “There was a guy, Duke Hansen. I know we say there’s good and bad in everyone, but if Duke had good, we never saw it.” He looked from Dave to Ben, confirming it. Neither one could say otherwise. “Duke beat his wife and son, and anyone who tried to interfere would have trouble—pets killed, fires, brake lines cut.” He motioned to Dave.

“You can vouch for that.”

Dave nodded. “I replaced them.”

Steve shook his head. “He was sneaky and clever. People felt helpless. It was a cancer, but they couldn’t treat it without risking themselves and their loved ones.”

Ben spread his hands. “Pastor Welsh tried to talk to him; the next day his wife’s car ran off an embankment. His first wife.”

Steve watched Alessi grasp the point. He might have shielded her from that, but maybe it was important she know the gravity of the situation. “Duke wasn’t the kind of bully who ran if someone stood up to him. He got even. Decisively.”

Alessi’s eyes were fixed on him. Her shaking had stopped, but her stillness was almost worse.

He wasn’t really the best person to tell it. He hadn’t been there. But he doubted the others would break the pact. They had sworn not to tell. Steve drew a breath as he got near the bad part. “One day Duke’s wife disappeared. There was a search, but all they found was a letter saying she was leaving.” He looked at Dave, suddenly doubtful again. Beth hadn’t seemed the type to desert her boy. But what was the type? He swallowed.

He had to be careful now. The less detail she had, the better. “Duke barged in on the church picnic and went berserk. Started smashing people’s cars and anyone who got in the way. I guess it was just more than people could stand. They took him down, and when it was over, he was dead.”

Alessi raised her fingers, then dropped them. No other motion or sound.

Dave cleared his throat. “We were shocked and panicked. But Pastor Welsh said we’d slain the devil and were delivered from evil.” He looked at Alessi as though he could make her see. “We renamed the town Charity and made a pact to live in victory, everyone throwing in together, sharing the guilt and the freedom. Making God’s kingdom on earth.”

There was more to it than that, but Steve was reluctant to tell about Carl, and he knew the others wouldn’t.

Ben said, “It’s been real good.”

She collapsed a little at that. “Until I came.” Steve said, “It’s not your fault.”

She straightened. “That’s why no one believes me? Because the whole town wants to believe no one in Charity would do something wrong?”

“Because if Charity didn’t cast out the devil … they had killed a man.” An evil man, a purely wicked man. Maybe he was the devil, and that was enough to excuse it. But they hadn’t left it there. The heart of the pact was to redeem his spawn.

Tnirty-One

A
LESSI FELT HERSELF SINKING, collapsing inside. Had she ever felt so empty? Her presence in Charity had awakened the devil himself. Ben’s words showed that much.
“It’s been real good.”
Until she drove in, they had lived something beautiful, the warmth and comfort she’d sensed when she stopped and took her first look. The magic she’d recognized in the quaint snow-covered scene. The peace as she walked the streets, even after her car was taken.

She had criticized what she didn’t understand, and all the time it was her own fault. Charity. Halos. Magic. It was silly superstition. Something tore open inside, some veil that had protected her, kept her from losing hope, from seeing things the way they were. She saw now. She had brought evil back to Charity.

Despair caught her throat like a wolf. No matter who the culprit was, she had brought out the worst in him. Steve, or someone else. She stood up. “I’m tired.” It was early, but even her bones were tired. She’d slept four hours that afternoon, but it might have been days ago.

Steve said, “We’ll figure it out in the morning.” He got her things from the table and walked her to his room. She didn’t argue.

“With the furnace on, it should be warm soon.”

She nodded, but that didn’t matter.

“Are you okay?”

Another nod. She closed the door and sat on the bed, feeling ripped like a piece of tissue with ragged edges. All the hurts she’d held inside stabbed her one by one. The people she’d lost, the ones she had hoped might love her, those she’d considered friends but had to leave behind. Even Ben and Dave … and Steve.

He had not been part of the pact. Six years ago he’d been in Alaska. So he wasn’t there when they became the redeemed. She shook her head. Her suspicions no longer mattered. If she had brought out the evil in someone, it would end when she left.

The night dragged on and the house grew silent, except for Dave’s snores. She had to be certain Steve was asleep, though she suspected sleep might be as elusive for him as for her. The weariness inside her did not lead to rest. It was like a cloud over drought-scorched land that dropped nothing but dust.

She waited, soaking in hurt after hurt, no longer fending them off, no longer able to. When she sensed enough time had passed, she put the black sweater on over her other. She folded Steve’s jean jacket on the bed with his sweats and T-shirt and left most of the cash, keeping only enough to start somewhere else. If she wasn’t keeping her word to stay through Christmas, she wouldn’t keep the money either.

She cracked open the door and listened. All was still except the strangely tuneful snores from Dave’s room. She crept out to the main room. The smell of the fire lingered even though the ashes held no glow. Steve’s breath was soft and even. She slowly turned the front door lock, glancing over her shoulder, then opened it and went out.

Steve heard the click and raised his head, trying to place the sound. He pushed the blanket back and sat up. All was still, except for Dave’s snoring like a squashed harmonica. He searched the darkness, listening again for anything out of order. His mind was over-amped. He lay back down. What was he going to do?

He had told Alessi they’d figure it out in the morning, but how? He shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. He just wanted a solution so badly. If he could make it right, get her car back or at least learn what happened to it, maybe she would stay.

Was that what it came down to? What he wanted with her? Were his motives that selfish? He could not get out of his mind how it felt to hold her. His kisses might have scared her, but they should have scared him worse. Only they hadn’t. Kissing her had been the most right thing he’d known. And if his feelings for her were driving him now, maybe it wasn’t wrong at all.

Explaining the pact had made him wonder all over again. Who had the most to lose? Carl. Who’d acted strangely—Carl. Maybe Alessi’s likeness to his mother was not a discounting factor but a mitigating one. He wished he knew more about that incident. If Carl harbored rage and feelings of betrayal …

Steve knew well enough how destructive those emotions could be. Dad had worked him through so much. Carl was eleven when she disappeared and his father was killed. Pastor Welsh had taken him in, and all those under the pact were committed to his welfare. Redeeming Carl had become their hope. A life saved, for the one that was lost.

Now Steve wondered. Should he speak to Burton Welsh? Tell him his concerns? Could the man look at it impartially—or would he reject the scenario that could mean the crumbling of all he’d built?

Alessi trudged along the route they had traveled to Wal-Mart. At least the wind had almost stopped and there was a moon to light her way. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her shoulder. With her gone, Charity could go back to how it was. The one who took her car would not be found out, and no one would have to face the truth of it.

No doubt what had happened had been horrible. She understood the pastor’s position. His own wife had been killed. Maybe there’d been no way to prove it, but he must have known who was to blame. He might have seen what followed as just retribution. Who could blame him?

And then he’d made it right for Charity. Bound them together in spirit and purpose—until she’d come and ruined it all.

Who’d have thought her little car could cause so much trouble? If she had known it would come to this, she’d have begged a ride to Chambers City and started from scratch. She wouldn’t have come to know the people of Charity: Karen and Diana, so warm and fun loving. Mary and her little girls, finding happiness at last with Ben. Dave always pulling something from the shelf for her to eat or filling a cup with chocolate.

And Steve—that hurt too much for words. Maybe the dream was just a dream. She put too much stock in signs and wonders. If the halo wasn’t real, why would the dream be? She could ignore it and imagine … No, she couldn’t. She’d lost the capacity.

She pressed her eyes shut against fresh tears, too many years’ worth. She felt ancient. Her fingers ached from cold, her heart from loneliness and rejection. She’d been walking at least an hour. If she sat down in the trees on the side of the road would she freeze to death, simply fall asleep and drift away?

Would that be taking her life? Or letting God have it? But she kept on, step after step, until she heard a car. Steve? She looked quickly for a place to hide, then told herself no. She kept walking.

The engine revved, and she spun at the familiar tone. Her Mustang zoomed up alongside and skidded to a stop. The driver pushed the button to lower the passenger-side window. It was dim inside, but she made out … the pastor’s son? Her stomach clutched. No mask, no ice water or rotted skull, but dread filled her. It wasn’t Steve. He had only helped. But she’d left him sleeping.

Carl leaned. “Want a ride?” In her own car?

“No thanks.” She started walking, stepping into the snow alongside the road.
It does not matter. Let it go
.

“Arf, arf, arf.”

Horror shot through her as the image of the poor dog’s skull imprinted. She trembled. Would he run her over? But he gassed the car and zoomed past. She stared until the lights were out of sight around a bend. He was ahead of her now.

She stopped walking. What should she do? She knew who it was now. She could give the sheriff a name. And get her car back? She looked back toward Charity. She must be more than two miles out, long past shouting distance.

Steve tossed. Sleep was better than brooding, but it wouldn’t return. He sat up, tossed off the blankets, and stood. He looked around the room, then walked down the hall. Dave’s snores proved at least one of them had accessed his REM sleep. He hoped Alessi had too. He would just peek, make sure she was fine. If she couldn’t sleep, they’d talk, try to find a solution. He knocked softly, then turned the knob to Alessi’s door.

The room was dark, and he opened the door farther. He couldn’t see her in the bed. It seemed too square and flat. He stepped in, crept closer. He reached. The bed was empty.

He searched the room in the dark, then flicked on the light. She wasn’t there. Only folded clothes and cash lying on the bed.
No!
He rushed out of the room, fumbled for his shoes. How long since he’d heard something? An hour? More? She had run out, left on foot rather than …

He banged Dave’s and Ben’s doors. “Get up, guys! She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Ben threw his covers off while Dave stumbled into the hall.

“Gone where?”

Steve grabbed his coat and keys. “I’ll check the store.” He could only hope as he ran for his truck. Maybe she’d gone there, just needing to be alone or … sleep on the cot instead of his more comfortable bed. Then why leave the money? Still, he checked there first. But the storeroom was empty, as he’d known it would be.

He swung back by the house for the guys. “She can’t have gone far.”

“But which way?” Dave rubbed his head.

“I don’t know.” Steve swallowed. “Dave, take your truck and check the highway. She might try to hitch a ride.”

“In the middle of Christmas Eve night?” But Dave headed for the garage.

Steve climbed back into the truck. “Let’s go, Ben.” He grabbed the gearshift and headed toward Chambers City. “Look for footprints.” He doubted anyone else had tramped off through the drifts formed earlier by the wind. Would she take cover if she heard him? She obviously didn’t trust him to help. The thought sobered him.

Why should she? He’d repeatedly stabbed her underbelly. After his behavior today she’d need an antidote. He hadn’t intended to scare her off, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He sure did have a way with women. He smacked his steering wheel. Ben glanced up but said nothing.

Alessi walked doggedly back toward Charity, though fear crawled up her spine. Too soon she heard the sound she had dreaded and turned into the glare of headlights. He gunned the engine. She stiffened, ready to dive. Just before she lunged, he slammed the breaks and cranked the wheel, spinning right beside her and jerking to a stop. Snow flew into her face.

He leaned toward the open window again. “Get in. I’ll take you for a spin.”

She backed away. “Leave me alone. You have the car.”