Which was why I felt an eerie sense of calm washed over me as I made my way over to Critter’s Bar and scanned the thousands of picture frames covering the walls. When I didn’t find what I was looking for I dragged out a ladder from the store room and began to read every single ting hanging from the ceiling. It took me an hour before I found what I was looking for. Two tings, with strings a little lower than all the others, hanging directly above the big corner table in the back corner by the window.
/> I had a date with Sandy tonight. I think she’s the one.
-Bennett
This might go down as the worst date in history.
-Sandy
Not knowing what I was searching for I stood on my tip toes and poked my fingers around on the rafters. Sure enough, sitting on the top of the rafter between the two tings was a cell phone. I turned it on and almost fell off the chair at what popped up on the screen.
“What are you doing up there?” Finn asked, as he came in the door. He grabbed me by the legs and lifted me off the chair. Gently setting me on my feet. “You could hurt yourself.”
I held up the phone.
“What is that?” he asked.
Knowing that what I just saw could change everything when it came to Richard, I handed it over to Finn carefully like it was a precious stone although in my eyes it was much more valuable. “I think I just found Sandy Bennett.”
Chapter 21
Finn
I was going to be a father. I was already so in love with a child that I'd never even met yet because it was mine.
Even better, it was ours.
Which was why I had to have patience and standing there on the Brillhart County fairgrounds under the tent was proving to take every ounce of patience I had and more.
There I was. Standing beside an open tent flap, looking right at the man we'd all spent way too much time fearing. Hating. I couldn’t say that I was nervous. It was more like I was nervous for him. He was only a few feet away. All I had to do was close the flap, reach across the desk and wrap my bare hands around his…
"Can I help you?" Richard asked, finally acknowledging my presence.
This man had laid hands on Sawyer.
He’d hurt her.
He… I had to stop thinking about it before my plan crumbled before my eyes and I wound up the one in jail for murder.
Richard was shorter than I thought. Smaller than the huge persona that preceded him. I imagined him to be huge. Muscular. Menacing. This guy was five foot nine at best. He wasn’t a large man. I would even go so far as to call him skinny.
“Yes, I think you can, help me” I finally answered. “I wanted to know more about the church. I saw your flyers.”
“What would you like to know?” he asked. “Do you currently belong to a church?”
I shook my head and looked around the bare office space. “No, I don’t. Unless you consider being dragged to Easter and Christmas Mass by my parents every year as a kid as belonging to a church.”
“I do not,” Richard said sternly, taking off his reading glasses and polishing them on the sleeve of his white button-down shirt.
Richard looked up and gave me a quick once over with his beady little eyes. I could see my dismissal written all over his face. He put his glasses back on and picked up a pen, dropping his head back down to his work. “Service is three times a day. The times are posted on the board outside my office. There are some flyers as well if you’d like to take one. We are only here for the summer but we have a housing unit in North Carolina where our main church is located if you wanted to come back with us and see what it's all about.”
That was his pitch? This church was his entire life and THAT was his pitch? Miller could have done a better job.
“I already have a flyer,” I said, waving around the yellow piece of paper in my hand. “But you see, I need more than just the service. I’ve been feeling a little lost lately. I’m looking for some real-life guidance through God.”
“How so?” Richard asked, sounding annoyed. He kept checking his watch for the time. He never asked me to take a seat.
“I recently lost someone close to me. Actually, it wasn’t recently. It was a couple of years ago. But, I can’t seem to move on. When I heard you were coming to town I sought you out. I need to know God’s plan for me.”
Richard shook his head. “We all need God son. If you’d like, you can sign up for counseling with Pastor Maryn. He's over by the tent setting up for the afternoon. He'll be more than happy to help you.” Richard said, holding his hand out to the flap, furthering my dismissal. “I look forward to seeing you at the service.”
Shit.
It wasn’t going how I’d expected it to go. The safety of my entire world was at stake. I needed to keep him in here for as long as possible. At least for another few minutes or so.
Time for Plan B.
I was nervous. Damned near desperate when I turned back toward Richard. “I’m sorry I took up your time. It’s just that I have a lot of time of my own on my hands now that my land holdings company has a new management team. I’ve got nothing but time to think and money to spend, but no one to spend it on anymore It all seems cheap. Cars houses things. I'd much rather spend money on things that matter. Like my soul.” I pushed open the door. “Does Pastor Maryn also handle the donations? Never mind. I’ll talk to her myself. I see that you’re busy. Have a good afternoon, sir.”
“Son, why don’t you come back and sit a while,” Richard called out.
I stifled a laugh before turning back around.
“Sorry, I was so distracted before,” Richard said, pushing his papers to the side. “How about you talk and I’ll listen. Then, maybe we will see if God can direct us to his grand plan for you.”
Richard gestured to the chair in front of the desk the same way he’d gestured to the door only seconds before.
I took a seat. “Thank you. I really appreciate this,” I said as genuinely as I could although the words Imma kill you, motherfucker was what was really running through my head.
“Tell me again. Why do you have all this time on your hands?” Richard asked, resting his elbows on the desk, his index fingers pressed together in the shape of a steeple.
It was almost too easy. Money. He wanted to talk about my money.
I spent a while spewing bullshit to him. For the most part, he listened and nodded. Occasionally he’d recite something from the bible I knew didn’t mean what he thought it meant. Just because I didn’t choose religion didn’t mean I was ignorant of it. After a while he asked me about my family.
“My parents moved away a while ago. I don’t see them much anymore. We don’t really get along well.”
One of many lies I told him that afternoon. It hurt me to lie about them when I don’t think there was a time I’d ever thought bad about my parents. I don’t think they missed a single one of my baseball games or practices. They were there. Physically and emotionally. Parents wise, I hit the lottery.
I stared at Richard.
Others weren’t as lucky.
“Why didn’t you get along with your parent’s son. Next to God, family is what’s most important.”
Bullshit.
“I can’t really pinpoint where it all went wrong,” I started, dropping my head into my hands for a bit of dramatic effect and mentally thanking Mrs. Doogan, my high school guidance counselor, for convincing me to take that semester of drama as one of my electives. I lifted my head. “Do you have a family Pastor?”