“You really think I’d burn down my grandmother’s house?”
“Angry teenagers have been known to do worse things than that. Your grandmother says you’re upset she’s not letting you go off to school this fall. She thinks you’re troubled, and she recommended I call Dr. Tidmore for a second opinion. He agrees with your grandmother, Miss Moore. They both think I need to find a place to put you until you’re no longer a danger to others.”
“So why don’t you?” Haven challenged the sheriff.
“Oh, Lord,” Mae muttered in embarrassment.
“I would,” the man assured Haven, “if it weren’t for one thing. Call came in last night after the fire had been put out. A lady driving by claims she saw a man snooping around your house after dark. Said he was wearing a white shirt and dark pants, but she couldn’t tell us much more than that.”
“That’s the man I was talking about! So why are you here giving me the third degree? Why aren’t you out looking for
him
?”
“I’m afraid the description doesn’t give us all that much to work on. There are a whole lot of white shirts and dark pants out there. Is there anything else you can tell me that might help us focus our search? Something you might have left out of your account of the incident? Arson is a serious crime, Miss Moore. Someone could have been killed last night.”
“Well, I can give you one clue, Sheriff,” Haven said with her best phony smile. “You aren’t going to find the arsonist sitting here in the emergency room.”
“Haven!” Mae Moore yelped.
“That’s all right, Mrs. Moore. I was just about done here anyway. If your daughter remembers anything else, have her give me a call.”
As soon as Sheriff Lambert rose from his seat, Haven reached over and pulled the curtain closed. “Someone saw a man by our house, and the Sheriff
still
thinks I’m the one who set the fire,” she whispered fiercely to her mother. “How could you let Imogene tell him that?”
“You know I can’t control your grandmother,” Mae said. “She’s real upset about the house right now. She might have said a few things she didn’t mean.”
“How bad is it?” Haven remembered the charred second floor and felt a little nauseous waiting for the answer. The house on the hill had been in her family for a hundred and fifty years.
“It can be fixed. . . .” Mae started, trying to sound optimistic before she gave up. “The second floor is pretty bad. The attic and your room are totally gone. The roof caved in after they put the fire out. And there’s a lot of water damage downstairs. Insurance will cover it, but it’s going to take a month or more before we can move back in.”
“You said my room is gone?”
“Yeah, honey,” Mae reported sadly.
“Everything? My clothes and my computer and everything?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Where are we going to go? What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. Beau and his daddy said you could stay with them for as long as need be.”
Haven drew back the curtain, fully expecting to find her friend on the other side. “Where
is
Beau? Why isn’t he here?”
“How should
I
know?” Mae asked, handing her daughter a cell phone. “I have enough trouble keeping track of my
own
child.”
Haven punched in the familiar digits.
“Haven?” Beau answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“I’m here in the waiting room. They won’t let me see you. They said only family is allowed in the ER.”
“Then I’m coming out
there
.” Before her mother could stop her, Haven slid the IV needle out of her arm and sprang from the bed.
“GOOD GOD, HAVEN,” Beau whispered as he stood up to greet her. “That hospital gown doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”
“Who cares?” Haven asked. She had bigger problems to deal with.
“I do! Here. Put this on.” He took off his button-down shirt and handed it to Haven. The black T-shirt he was wearing underneath had faded from a thousand washings.
“Someone tried to kill me,” she told him.
Beau’s attention suddenly shifted to a middle-aged man who was angling to get a look at Haven’s backside. “Hey, buddy. You better turn around before I come over there and
turn
you around.”
A second man, dressed in a white shirt and gray slacks, kept a straight face as he tapped away at a BlackBerry.
“You sure?” Beau asked as the first man picked up a copy of
Field & Stream
and pretended to read.
“There was a man in my bedroom when I got home last night. He knocked me out and set fire to the house.”
“What should we do?” The absence of doubt on Beau’s face kept Haven’s own doubts from growing. She’d started to wonder if Sheriff Lambert might be right. After what she’d done in Dr. Tidmore’s office, setting a house on fire didn’t seem like much of a stretch.
“I don’t know about you,” Haven said, “but I’m not sticking around to find out what happens next. I’ve gotta get to New York.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Haven left the hospital on Friday and took up residence in the Decker guest room. On Saturday morning, Mae Moore arrived at the farmhouse to beg a favor from her daughter. She wanted Haven to come to church on Sunday and make peace with her grandmother. The old lady had finally admitted that Haven might not be an arsonist—but she hadn’t forgiven the girl for seeking help from the snake handlers. It was Imogene’s personal request that her granddaughter make amends by attending Dr. Tidmore’s latest sermon. It was the least Haven could do, Mae had told her. If Haven hadn’t felt a little guilty about her secret plan to skip town, she never would have agreed.
Still, she knew from the beginning that she shouldn’t have given in to Imogene’s demand. It wasn’t as if she and Beau had two spare hours to spend listening to Dr. Tidmore. They had worked every second of the weekend, trying to improvise a wardrobe that wouldn’t mark Haven as the homeless hillbilly she was. Unwanted prom gowns were ripped apart and refashioned into breezy summer sundresses. The leftover black silk from Bethany Greene’s dress became a daring evening dress. (“You never know!” Beau had insisted.) Haven planned to buy T-shirts, jeans, and sneakers before she left, but she’d wait until she got to New York City to purchase a decent pair of heels. When she thought of visiting Manhattan’s fabled boutiques and wandering among the racks of beautiful clothes, Haven could barely contain her excitement. Once her decision to leave had been made—and staying in Snope City no longer seemed like the safer option—some of the fear she had felt had vanished. Now Haven could focus on one simple thought. After almost a century, she was finally going home.
WHEN SUNDAY ROLLED AROUND, Haven realized that despite all their dressmaking, she still had nothing suitable to wear to church. Imogene would keel over in her pew if Haven arrived in anything with a hem that came to a halt above the knee. And the last thing Haven needed was to give the old lady a heart attack in front of Snope City’s finest citizens. When Beau’s father got word of Haven’s dilemma, he disappeared into his bedroom and returned holding a lovely blue dress covered with tiny white flowers.
“I can’t wear that, Mr. Decker,” Haven whispered. It had belonged to his wife. For three years, it had been sitting in her closet, just waiting for Emily Decker to come back from the grave to claim it. Beau had once shown Haven the closet, which was kept as perfectly preserved as a shrine.
“Course you can. I’m no expert in ladies’ clothing, but I reckon it should fit you.”
“It’s not that—”
“I know. But Emily would want you to have it, after all you’ve done for this family.”
“After all
I’ve
done?”
Ben motioned to his son and winked. “You and me both know he’d have turned to a life of crime without you. Probably would have been in jail for assault by the eighth grade. Now he’s going off to Vanderbilt like his mama wanted.”
Haven winced. Ben Decker was going to be crushed if Beau abandoned his college plans.
“Just put the dress on, Haven,” Beau snapped. “We gotta get going.”
Haven shot her friend an evil look as she took the dress from his father. “Thank you, Mr. Decker. I really appreciate it.”
“Ain’t nothing at all,” Ben Decker insisted, trying not to sound too proud of himself.
RIGHT IN THE center of Snope City stood Imogene Snively’s church, a grand brick structure with a white steeple that rose high enough to puncture heaven. The doors stood open, and the church was awash with light. Flowers overflowed from marble pots, and the mahogany surfaces gleamed with lemon-scented polish. Haven and Beau trod across thick burgundy carpet toward the Snively family pew. All around them, people whispered, but Haven smiled serenely as she and Beau took their seats next to Mae Moore.
“I didn’t know if you were going to make it,” Imogene said in a starchy tone.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Haven trilled as the congregation rose and Dr. Tidmore took the podium.
The pastor examined the crowd as the choir stood behind him, as straight-faced and serious as a squad of professional bodyguards.
“Please be seated,” Dr. Tidmore said quietly as he shuffled through his notes, which were written on a deck of index cards. He did the same thing every Sunday, though he never seemed to use them. When at last he gripped the sides of the podium and began his sermon, his gentle manner had disappeared. The voice that came booming down from the pulpit was powerful and authoritative.
“Devil’s Chimney. Devil’s Courthouse. Devil’s Stomping Ground.” He paused briefly as the names echoed in Haven’s head. “Have you ever stopped to wonder why so many places around here are named in some way for the devil? Maybe you thought it was just a
coincidence
. Or maybe you thought your ancestors enjoyed a good joke. Well, you thought wrong. See, your ancestors understood something that many of us today find hard to imagine. They knew that Satan isn’t just an
idea
. He’s not a
metaphor
. Satan is as real as the person sitting next to you. Fact is, Satan just might
be
the person sitting next to you.”
Everyone in the church saw him look directly at Haven. Mae Moore fidgeted in her seat, and Haven knew she’d been set up.
“But most of you would never know if you met the devil face-to-face. You’d probably expect to see cloven hooves and goat horns and a forked tail. The
Bible
never describes Satan that way. The Bible calls him a trickster, a tempter, the father of lies. But the Book of Job makes one thing
very
clear—Satan is a flesh-and-blood being—a flesh-and-blood being that’s right here with us on God’s green earth.”
Dr. Tidmore opened his Bible to a carefully marked page and began to read.
“
Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them. And the LORD said unto Satan, ‘Whence comest thou?’ Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, ‘From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.’
Book of Job. Chapter one. Verses six and seven.”
When Dr. Tidmore raised his head to face the congregation, his glasses caught the light, and for a moment, the lenses blazed like two tiny suns. How could he do it? Haven marveled. How could the man who’d once been so kind decide to turn on her so completely?
“Your ancestors gave names to the places they believed the devil had visited,” Dr. Tidmore continued. “And don’t fool yourselves into thinking he doesn’t still visit us. It’s just that we can’t see him like they used to. But he’s here, sure enough, working day and night to keep us from reaching salvation. He tempts us with earthly delights and taunts us with the pleasures of the flesh until we’re so covered in the muck of this wicked world that we’re unable to gain passage to heaven.
“But there’s no need to worry, for we have the Bible to guide us, and the good book tells us exactly how to keep the devil at bay. Chapter six of Ephesians, verses eleven to thirteen:
“Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground
.”
Dr. Tidmore closed his Bible and took a slow sip from a glass of water that had been left inside the podium, a gesture he often used to keep the congregation on the edge of their seats.
“Now, some of you might ask why I chose this subject for our sermon today. Why I felt compelled to issue a warning. It’s because I believe that the devil has been
right here
in Snope City. That’s right. He’s fooled you, he’s fooled me, he’s fooled
all
of us. Fact is, he’s been here for years, weaseling his way into our hearts, trying to convince us to let down our guard. Getting us to relax our standards. Conning us into believing that we may not require Jesus’s help to reach salvation. And that we need not live as the Bible instructs us.
“And we haven’t fought back! We’ve come to accept things we
know
the Bible calls abominations. Ideas that Christ
himself
would call heresies. Homosexuality. Clairvoyance. Reincarnation. Don’t let yourself be deceived. These are the devil’s work. And it’s time for us to put on the armor of the Lord and do battle with the forces of evil once and for all. We must show Satan no mercy. We must punish those who have spread his lies and send the devil where he can do no more harm.”
Haven looked over at Mae, whose face was buried in her hands. Imogene stared straight ahead at the pulpit, basking in the pastor’s wisdom.
“I know exactly where the devil is,” Haven hissed at her grandmother. “Let’s go, Beau.” Together they marched out of the church, the pastor’s booming voice barely drowning out the whispered outrage that came from the pews.