Sins of the Fathers (43 page)
1.
Sundays.
They were different now. Sundays were church days. Lindy would usually meet Roxy and Travis and they’d go together.
Travis finally explained his behavior. He had introduced himself to Roxy as a way of getting information on the Marcel Lee case. He hadn’t expected to fall for her, but when he did, he felt he had to pull away so as not to involve her further in the investigation.
Roxy seemed more than happy to forgive and forget.
As did, remarkably, Mona Romney. She approached Lindy tentatively at church, then asked Lindy to forgive her. Unreal, the way God worked in people. They even embraced.
But that wasn’t, to Lindy’s way of thinking, the most astounding thing.
Most astounding was this man standing in front of her, here at another church, a church that rocked with gospel music and pulsed with people who sang like none she’d ever heard.
Leon Colby filled the pulpit with his presence. Six-and-a-half feet of him, the former trial lawyer, preaching for the first time in his father’s own church. He’d called Lindy to invite her.
Shortly after Darren’s sentencing, Colby officially quit the DA’s office. He also unearthed all sorts of records on the Marcel Lee case, which he handed over to Marcel’s appellate lawyer. This time Lindy was sure Marcel would get a reversal. The real story would come to light. And Colby’s testimony before a federal grand jury would help bring indictments against the last vestiges of the underground unit once headed by Judge Roger Greene.
Her heart still ached for Greene. He’d been a good man, she really believed that. But good intentions can lead to bad ends. Street justice was not justice at all. Maybe Greene knew that and decided not to fight for life. He died a couple of days after being shot.
When Leon Colby sermonized, he mesmerized, just like he had with the juries of Los Angeles County. “You all have been so kind to me,” he said, “after my years of wandering. You never forgot about me in all that time. I know you were praying for me too. I know Dad was praying all the time, even when he could no longer speak . . .”
His voice trailed off for a moment.
“But I’m here, and I’m humbled you’ve allowed me to be here, to hear my testimony. I’d like to come back.”
A chorus of voices shouted,
Amen!
Then another surge of singing and waving hands filled the place, and Lindy thought heaven would certainly be filled with a joy like this.
After church Colby stood around, talking to well-wishers. He asked Lindy to wait, and when they were finally alone he said, “Thanks for coming. I was hoping you would.”
“To be honest, I had to see this with my own eyes. I don’t know if I would have believed it otherwise.”
Colby smiled, a nice easy smile that Lindy had never seen on him before. He looked at his feet for a moment. “And I was wondering if you were doing anything for dinner tonight.”
“Leon, are you asking me out?”
“Guilty.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Colby laughed. “That’s got to be a first for you.”
And for a moment, she really didn’t have the words. Then she said, “Is this one of those times when the Lord is working in mysterious ways?”
“And it won’t be the last.”
Of that Lindy was certain. “Okay, Leon. You’re on.”
She was smiling as she got on her Harley, which Wolf had fixed up in return for some legal work on his brother’s case. She pulled out onto the Inglewood streets and then the 405 freeway.
But she didn’t go straight home.
2.
“How are things today?”
Darren looked at Lindy with soporific eyes. “My head feels squishy.”
His voice was still. Not a voice that had known horrors beyond most imaginings.
When he spoke, he did not gesture. His words had a numb dispassion about them. Lindy knew this was because of the meds, which would be a part of his world, probably forever. His head would always feel squishy.
They were on a bench in the sun yard. The state hospital in Lancaster was, all things considered, the best Darren could have hoped for—if he knew how to hope. He wore a white cotton jumpsuit, a definite improvement over the stiff orange of the K–10 jail inmate.
“Anything I can get for you?” Lindy said. “I can bring in books and—”
“When do I get out?”
That question again. He asked it every time she came. He had no concept of time, nor of the likely duration of his sentence. “Just keep getting better,” she said, “and we’ll see.”
At least he was better off here than in prison. One reason she came once a month was to check the conditions. If this state institution messed up, which it had in the past, she’d be ready for them with a civil action.
But the main reason she came was to see Darren. He’d been here eight months now, after the agreed-upon plea. He’d be here for years before his first limited-release hearing and the inevitable public outcry. And Lindy would be there to speak up for him. She’d be there because she was his lawyer.
A light stirred behind his eyes. “Where’s God?”
It was the first time he’d mentioned God since the trial.
Lindy didn’t answer at first. The doctors warned her not to upset the delicate structures they were building up in his mind.
Darren’s tone grew more insistent. “Where
is God
?”
Careful. Careful.
“There’s no need to be afraid, Darren. Ever again.”
“Where is God?”
“Darren, you don’t have to be afraid.”
“Where?”
Lindy silently prayed for the right words. “The one you thought was God, the one who told you to do the bad things, he’s not going to hurt you again.”
Darren looked confused, but in a new way. His mental faculties were being mashed around by the psychotropics, so his expressions usually had a chemical sameness about them. Not now. He was straining toward something.
“Why does God do bad things?” Darren asked.
“God doesn’t do bad things.”
“How do you know?”
“Because God is always good.”
“He’s not.” He frowned, as if trying to understand.
“I have never lied to you, Darren. Do you know that?”
He nodded tentatively.
“And I never will. God is always good.” She paused. “I want to tell you about God, Darren. Really tell you. Do you want me to?”
He nodded again.
“I’m learning all about God. And Jesus. Okay?”
Another nod.
“All right then. I’ll keep coming back and we’ll learn about Jesus and God and all of that. We’ll learn it together.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
He looked at his hands then. Like he was studying them. He looked at them for a long, silent moment.
Then, suddenly, he began to shake. At first Lindy thought he was going into some sort of seizure. She was about to call for help when Darren said, quietly but firmly, “I did bad. I did bad.”
He paused a moment, quivering in his coveralls. “I did bad. I—” A sob smothered his words. He sucked in a labored breath, his face clenched in palpable anguish. And then he put his head in his hands, muffled wails surging.
Lindy put her arm around him, absorbed his trembling. And knew he’d experienced a breakthrough. She didn’t need a doctor to tell her that. So she wouldn’t wait to tell Darren. When he calmed, she would tell him about the love of Jesus, about God the Father, the true Father to them both. She’d tell him all she knew, and stay until he understood.
“Together,” she said, stroking his hair. “You and me.”
James Scott Bell is the bestselling author of
Deadlock
,
Breach of
Promise
, and the historical legal thriller series the Trials of Kit Shannon. A winner of the Christy Award for Excellence, Jim is a columnist for
Writer’s Digest
magazine and teaches fiction at Pepperdine University. He lives with his wife, Cindy, in Los Angeles.
Visit his website at
www.jamesscottbell.com
.
I owe an enormous debt of thanks to the following people:
Cindy Bell—my wife, first editor, and best friend.
Karen Ball and Erin Healy, for their insightful editorial help.
Sue Brower and “Team Zondervan,” an absolute joy to work with.
The lawyers who go into criminal courtrooms every day seeking justice for the accused and victims alike, especially the public defenders and prosecutors who do the often thankless work of making our constitutional system work.
The men and women of the Los Angeles Police Department, who struggle long and hard to keep our city safe.
We want to hear from you. Please send your comments about this book to us in care of [email protected]. Thank you.
Founded in 1931, Grand Rapids, Michigan-based Zondervan, a division of HarperCollinsPublishers, is the leading international Christian communications company, producing best-selling Bibles, books, new media products, a growing line of gift products and award-winning children’s products. The world’s largest Bible publisher, Zondervan (www.zondervan.com) holds exclusive publishing rights to the New International Version of the Bible and has distributed more than 150 million copies worldwide. It is also one of the top Christian publishers in the world, selling its award-winning books through Christian retailers, general market bookstores, mass merchandisers, specialty retailers, and the Internet. Zondervan has received a total of 68 Gold Medallion awards for its books, more than any other publisher.
