Hunting (18 page)

“
No brim-tone?”

“
No. None of that. The
other kids probably sing lots of songs, and color lots of pictures.
I bet they play games, too. But you can stay with me in the big
people part for as long as you want. And if either of us doesn’t
like this church we can find another one. How does that
sound?”

Ruthie nodded, and the grip
she had on Jules eased up a little. “I don’t want to.”

“
I know, but we both have
to.”
Did
they? Was this really the best option for them
both? Did she want Ruthie to grow up with the kind of lasting fear
both Malachi and Georgia had described?

No. She didn’t. So if that
meant attending church every Sunday morning for a few months, then
Jules would do it. No matter how uncomfortable it made her
feel.

***

Almost like a magnet,
Malachi’s gaze went straight to the door them minute the last
person he expected to see entered the church his mother and sister
attended every Sunday. He went more weeks than not, himself. He’d
grown up in church every Sunday, fell out of the habit in his
college years, then as he’d gotten more and more enmeshed in his
duties with the FBI found he needed the religious and social
connection to help process what he dealt with on a regular
basis.

He hadn’t expected Jules to
show up at his family’s church. He’d thought she’d go with Georgia
and Ed, honestly. He was out of his seat and heading toward the two
before he even realized he was moving. They both looked so small,
and so lost in the large sanctuary and his heart swelled with the
need to make everything better for them.

“
Julia?” He said her name
softly and from several feet away, but she still heard him. The
relief in her eyes surprised him, until it sank in that
she
was just as scared as her little girl. Poor Julia, always so scared
of everything. “Sweetheart?”

Hazel eyes stared at him
for a moment, then she let out a long breath. Relief was clear for
anyone to see on her face. “Malachi. Well, here we are.”

“
I thought you’d go to Mass
with Georgia.” He patted Ruthie’s back, but didn’t try to take her
from Jules. They had too tight of a grip on each other. Did they
even realize how the bonds between them were strengthening? He did,
and it was beautiful to see.

“
I’m not Catholic. George
said your parents and sister like this church, and that she thought
there were several children Ruthie’s age here.”

“
It has a decent-sized
congregation. Al is co-teacher for a Sunday School class for kids
Ruthie’s age. It starts at 9:30, if you want to try that next
week.”

“
I think we’re just going
to attend main services for a few weeks. See if we can do this.”
She tilted her head in Ruthie’s direction, letting him know that
there was more going on than she was saying. “We made a deal to
check things out together. Where are your parents?”

“
We’re sitting up here.
There’s plenty of room, if you want to join m—us.”

So. Malachi had a date for
church. Was it perhaps more serious between him and the medical
examiner than his mother—or Paige—knew? Interesting.

He took a moment to study
the woman who had apparently finally captured the great Malachi
Brockman’s romantic attention. She was attractive, but the black
pantsuit was a bit too severe for her features. Her hair was long
and the color of the best organic honey he could purchase. Julia
was small and delicately built, but perhaps that was what appealed
to Malachi? Someone her size would make him feel strong and
powerful, even more masculine. It would help him compensate for the
weaknesses he hid from most of the world.

His lip raised in a sneer.
He
, and apparently he alone, knew Malachi had those
weaknesses. Hadn’t he studied the other man for years? He’d even
written his thesis on the overcompensation by what the world would
consider masculine men. It had been a perfectly flawless paper, of
course. And based entirely on Malachi.

He’d not realized at
Thanksgiving that the medical examiner had a child, and Paige
hadn’t mentioned it, either. He would have thought that was a
significant fact about the medical examiner. The girl resembled her
mother not at all, though she was a pretty child. Around the age of
two or three, perhaps? He was not an expert on young children—by
choice. He didn’t like children and never had, though he worked
with teenagers in his practice, as many were being tried as adults,
and ending up in the adult system with the rest of the losers and
dregs of society. He considered it his duty to help those kinds of
people.

He wasn’t much of a
religious man, but attending church was the socially acceptable
norm for his area and background, and expected of someone in his
type of position. He did, after all, work for a religiously
affiliated organization that sent psychiatrists such as him into
the prisons and halfway houses and juvenile services facilities.
Yes, if he was to keep his prominent community position and allow
it to grow into his future political position, he needed to be
associated with a nice, active, prominent congregation.

Meredith had recommended
this church to him when she and Kenneth first started
attending. And Meredith had yet to steer him wrong in any way. He
looked at the woman in question and smiled. She looked quite
beautiful in the light coming in through the stained glass window
she sat near. If only she was twenty years younger…

Alas, she wasn’t. And since
he needed children to complete his political image that left
Meredith out. Unfortunately, though Alessandra was an extremely
beautiful woman who would look fabulous and perfect on a poster or
mailer, her personality was too grating for his needs. No, Paige
would more than suffice for his needs. Once he molded her into the
perfect image that he sought.

Paige sat on Meredith’s
left, between her and Kenneth. Sometimes she attended church with
the Brockman family, and he always hoped to see her. As soon as he
finished his match with Malachi, he would turn his attention to his
romantic future.

Malachi led the medical
examiner and the child to the pew, and she slipped in next to
Meredith’s right.

Meredith obviously liked
the young woman, her surprise and pleasure was easy for anyone to
read on her face. But the medical examiner, Dr. Julia Bellows
appeared extremely uncomfortable.

Interesting.

Malachi sat very close to
her, and was clearly teasing the little girl still on the medical
examiner’s lap. His arm slipped behind Julia and he leaned toward
her. Possessive.

Yes, Malachi held some
extremely strong feelings for the woman.

Interesting. What would
that mean for their game? Was this a result perhaps of his
unfortunate move back in November? Had he unintentionally allowed
Malachi to move a pawn into place where it could be
queened?

He sat back, and instead of
following the sermon, began to strategize.

Malachi couldn’t listen to
the sermon, not with Julia so close. Did she realize that the soap
she used, that strawberry scent he’d associated with her from the
very beginning of their acquaintance, made him think of hot summer
nights and the taste of her skin beneath his lips?

Church was the worst place
he needed to be remembering the last time he’d tasted her skin.
South Dakota seemed so long ago, though it had been less than two
weeks.

He also wasn’t oblivious to
the looks they were getting—even from his own mother. He followed
her gaze, and saw that somehow he’d wrapped an arm around Julia.
And she’d scooted closer to his side, Ruthie still on her lap. That
was major, in his mother’s viewpoint. A man only put a hand on a
single woman in church if he was serious about his relationship
with her. He’d had that lesson drummed into him with his first high
school girlfriend. His mother had made the rules for church very,
very clear. So clear that Malachi remembered them well, and knew
his mother still considered those the rules. Just like his brother
Mick, his mother was a big stickler for following rules to the
exact letter. He smiled at his mother, but left his arm where it
was. Her brows rose and she smiled. Approving. He nodded, knowing
the two of them would talk later. But his mother wouldn’t intrude
or interfere. It wasn’t her way. He’d told her with just that one
action that he
was
serious about the woman beside him. And
she understood.

As the sermon progressed,
both Julia and Ruthie relaxed somewhat. Julia sang along from the
hymn book he held, and Ruthie sat in the pew and colored pictures
the church provided in the pews each week, just for kids who stayed
in the sanctuary with their parents. They had a thriving children’s
church, but one of the tenants of this church was that children
were a part of the church body, and if parents wanted to keep them
in the sanctuary for whatever reason, that was perfectly
acceptable.

This church environment was
probably exactly the kind of religious experience Ruthie
needed.

After the sermon was
finished, he heard his mother invite Julia and Ruthie to her house
for dinner. It was something she had always done, even when Malachi
was a small child. Sunday dinner was a tradition his entire family
had enjoyed, and probably always would. Julia accepted, and Malachi
fought to keep his elation off his face.

The trick to wooing Julia
Bellows was going to be not doing so as obviously as Malachi
wished. Just make it seem like the most natural thing in her world
that he be there with her. He could do that; he’d already made a
start.

***

Jules wasn’t sure she did
the whole Sunday-dinner-family-thing, but how could she turn
Meredith down? The older woman was one of the few non-work friends
Jules could claim. To refuse her would have been way too
rude.

Malachi was at her side,
acting like the cat that had eaten three canaries, and something
about his expression had the hair sticking up along her arms. He
was up to something—it was right there in those blue, blue eyes of
his.

But what?

She somehow ended up
following him to his parents’ house. Paige and a few friends were
in the car behind her. Jules wasn’t sure where Mikhail was, but as
it was, Meredith’s table would be pretty crowded. And apparently
she did it every Sunday. Jules would never have imagined that the
whole church and family dinner thing even existed any
more—especially with the people she worked with, but apparently it
did.  

Other than with George’s
family, had she ever been a part of something so small-town
TV-showish? Definitely not with Rick’s family. He and Bryan had
pretty much been it. Their mother had been a cold, selfish witch
who had vehemently opposed her and Georgia, and after they’d died
she’d gone as far as to tell Jules privately that she was the
reason both men were dead, and Matthew was an orphan.

The words Jules had thrown
at that woman would never be repeated. She doubted Georgia even
knew what had happened the day after Jules had miscarried her
pregnancy so long ago.

Her hand covered her
stomach unconsciously as she thought of that baby. She would always
hurt for that child…always.

“
Momma Jules, there was no
brim-tone today.”

“
No, baby, there wasn’t.
Brimstone is just a story some people use to scare others into
doing what they want them to do. Did you like the church?” Jules
glanced in the rearview. Ruthie was watching the buildings go by,
kicking her little black dress shoes against the console. She was
calm and happy. Jules felt a bit of the stress tightening her spine
float away. At least she hadn’t permanently scarred Ruthie this
morning.

“
I like Aunt Al. And
Malki.” Ruthie nodded. “And I think he likes us lots. Is he going
to be my new daddy? I think that would be ok. He’s not mean and
scary like my last daddy. Or like Mr. Lake.”

Mr. Lake, her foster
father. She chose to focus on that rather than Ruthie’s actual
question. “Honey, why was Mr. Lake so scary? What did he do to
you?”

“
He yelled at me. Said I
was just like my other daddy.” Ruthie shrugged, but her body was
tense. “And he liked to spank the other kids. Their real kids. Mrs.
Lake wouldn’t let him spank me, though …”

Thank goodness for that, at
least. “Honey, you are nothing like your other parents. You are a
very good person, just like Hannah. Do you remember
Hannah?”

“
And baby Joey. Yes, but
they were ‘mited for being bad. My other mommy told me so when Mrs.
Lake took me to see her in jail.” Ruthie nodded sadly.

“
Oh, baby.” She hadn’t
known there had been visitation between Ruthie and Theresa Byrum,
but she should have. It hadn’t been in the file. “Hannah is ok. She
didn’t get smited. Smiting doesn’t happen when you’re bad; smiting
is just an old word people used in stories to scare people. Kind of
like
boo
. Ok?”

“
They did too get
‘mited!”