Broken is the Grave Page 5
He crossed the empty street without even thinking about the traffic that wasn’t there.
All he saw was her shaky smile. The sound of her sobs followed him.
James was a fool. That’s all there was to it.
Only a fool would leave a woman like Bethany. Only a fool would turn his back on his sons. Only a fool would choose to never meet his own daughter.
Hezekiah.
The Lord’s voice, firm with a hint of reproach, surrounded him.
But Father, it’s true.
If he had a wife like Bethany, he would never do such a thing. He was a better man than that. A better man than James, obviously.
Maybe James had gotten what his sins deserved.
Silence.
Not just the absence of sound, but an utter emptiness that crept into his soul.
Weight crashed over him.
Not physically, but spiritually. A heaviness of heart that he couldn’t describe, must less escape.
The Father had gone silent.
“No!” His scream echoed off the tattered buildings surrounding him. Blackened windows stared like empty eyes as he turned to the sky. “Father! Speak! I beg you!”
But He wouldn’t speak, would he?
You’re one of the fallen! Fallen! Worthless! No good sinner!
The words rang in his head, accusing, but there was no defense. They were true. Every last one of them.
He collapsed to his knees on the sidewalk, the rough concrete scraping his shins, and lifted his hands toward heaven. “Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. It’s not my place to judge.”
Even if he was right.
The thought slipped in and he tried to reject it, but it was true. James hadn’t deserved Bethany.
No, no! He shook his head.
God alone was the judge. God alone had the right to determine what each person deserved.
His vision blurred and his eyes burned. The wind chilled the damp trails streaking down his face.
“Speak. Just speak.” The words broke into sobs as the emptiness consumed him.
God wouldn’t speak. Not to him, not ever again. Now that he was a sinner, he was completely useless.
₪ ₪ ₪
Zeke has fallen.
The Almighty’s voice was a javelin to Josiah’s soul.
His legs buckled and his knees hit the floor. The kitchen around him faded. Leftovers from dinner waited on the counter, dishes sat in the sink, but none of that mattered.
Father?
He longed for the Father to say it wasn’t true, but the Father never lied.
Zeke had sinned.
In the short time since Elly had fallen, things had changed. Darkness drew closer to their dwelling than ever before and at times it felt like his prayers weren’t enough to keep it away.
Now it would only get worse.
Tears burned his eyes at the sorrow of lost communion.
I am with you all.
The Father’s words permeated his grief.
It would be okay. Grace was available to all.
While the food cooled and the dishes sat, he basked in the comfort that only the Almighty could provide.
₪ ₪ ₪
Gray skies greeted Zeke as he walked topside. The boat swayed beneath his feet as the stormy sea churned. Wind howled and the slanting lines of heavy rainfall shaded the horizon.
The storm outside was nothing compared to the one raging within.
He stepped onto the deck. Cold sliced through his cotton shirt and pricked his bare legs beneath the hem of his cargo shorts, but it was the ice in his heart that really chilled him.
The Father had left him.
A hand clapped his shoulder. “Brother.”
He winced at Josiah’s voice. The one word contained an uncharacteristic sadness and sympathy. “You know.”
Not a question. Of course Josiah knew. He still heard from God.
He was the only one who still heard the Father’s voice unhindered.
“Ah, brother.” Josiah’s tone, while soothing, was a constant reminder of all he’d lost. “The Father still loves you. Very much.”
While his head knew that truth, his heart didn’t feel it. “Then why won’t He speak with me?”
Josiah didn’t answer. Then again, he didn’t need to. They both knew the truth. The fallen didn’t hear from God.
Silence lingered. The weight crushing his soul increased.
Finally, Josiah sighed. “My brother. You’re believing the lies of the enemy. Yes, things have changed, but God still speaks. Turn to the Father in repentance. He hasn’t moved.”
After giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, Josiah’s hand vanished. Soft footfalls moved away.
And Zeke was once again alone.
₪ ₪ ₪
Tobias stared at the woman on his computer screen. This was James’ widow, huh? Not bad.
The DMV photo probably didn’t even do her justice, but the short blonde curls framing a heart-shaped face was a pretty appealing picture. Even the fake smile, no doubt caught at just the wrong moment as only DMV agents could do, was attractive.
Bethany Summers. The address listed was an apartment in a run-down part of the inner city.
Obviously she didn’t make much money. Then again, being married to an addict might’ve bled her dry.
Did she have the evidence?
Only one way to find out. He’d have her watched. And if she knew more than she should, he’d take care of her personally.
₪ ₪ ₪
The door crashed closed behind her, driven by a wind that had only picked up in intensity as the day wore on. Bethany pushed her curls out of her face, tucking what she could behind her ears and finger-combing the rest into submission.
The girl behind the reception desk offered a friendly smile. “Hi! Welcome to Loving Hands.”
The words, said with warmth and enthusiasm, evidenced a passion that surprised Bethany. The girl behind the counter was probably a few years younger than she was, yet she oozed compassion that many people twice her age failed to possess.
“Hi. I’m looking for Zeke.” Crud. She probably should give his last name, but she didn’t know it.
The girl’s smile froze as she eyed Bethany. “I haven’t seen him today. Are you a friend of his?”
Hmmm. Was that a hint of jealousy? “Kind of. He’s…”
How did she explain their non-existent relationship? Not that she owed this girl any explanation, but if there was something between this girl and Zeke, she certainly didn’t want to cause problems.
“He has information about my husband’s death.” The words exploded from her mouth.
The girl’s blue eyes widened behind her glasses. “James?”
Naturally she’d make the connection. Bethany responded with a single nod.
“I’m so sorry.” The girl came out from behind the desk. Straight light brown hair framed a squared face. Her tunic and skinny jeans emphasized her lean, slender build. She crushed Bethany in a fierce hug. “He didn’t come around here a lot, but he was always grateful for the food when he did come.”
A lump lodged in Bethany’s throat. He could’ve had three meals a day and more than enough to eat. He’d made his choice.
Bethany tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
The girl pulled back and offered her hand. “I’m Aimee. My family keeps this place running.”
“Bethany.” She looked around the clean lobby. A few plastic chairs and tables dotted the open space. To the left of the reception desk, a hallway yawned. To the right, two closed doors hinted at restricted access areas.
Painted on the wall behind the desk were two hands, palms up, cupped together. In between the hands, written in red letters, were words she recognized as belonging to Jesus. “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.” Matthew 25:40.
She turned back to Aimee. “You said Zeke isn’t here?”
The clock on the wall over the door said 12:58. “He was supposed to meet me here at one.”
Aimee offered a small shrug. “I don’t know what happened. He’s a volunteer so he kind of does whatever he wants.”
Which, in this case, was leave her hanging.
Maybe he’d make it in the next few minutes. She hoped. Otherwise she’d wasted a trip down here when she could’ve just looked at the drive at the school.
The door banged behind them. “Sorry I’m late.”
They both turned. Zeke stood inside the door, his striped short-sleeve t-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops a sharp contrast to the chilly day outside.
Something was off.
Other than the fact that he wasn’t dressed properly for the weather.
She studied him. Rings that she didn’t remember from the night before hung beneath his eyes. His mouth curled down. In fact, his whole face seemed to sag.
“Zeke? You okay?” Aimee’s question hung in the air and mirrored her own thoughts.
He forced what looked like a plastic smile. “Yeah. Rough night.”
Something told her that was a gross understatement, but what right did she have to pry?
“Aimee, would it be okay for us to use your dad’s computer? We’re following up a lead on James.”
Aimee shrugged. “Sure. But isn’t that something the police ought to be handling?”
“We’re not even sure if it’s relevant. If it is, I’ll loop them in, but I don’t want to waste their time.”
Even though she didn’t look fully convinced, Aimee unlocked one of the doors. The phone on the reception desk rang and she turned to answer it.
Zeke pushed open the office door, flicked the light switch, and gestured for Bethany to precede him inside.
A scarred mahogany desk sat in the center of the room. A worn office chair waited behind the desk and two lightly padded chairs in mismatched shades of blue sat on the other side.
Zeke gently closed the door behind them and rounded the desk without a word.
As he booted up the computer, Bethany studied him. Impossible as it was, he looked like he’d aged several years since she saw him less than twenty-four hours ago. The peace he’d exuded the night before was nowhere to be found. Instead, he seemed troubled. Burdened.
Maybe he was sick. That would explain a lot, including his late arrival.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her question seemed loud in the confined office.
He looked up, his brown eyes locking on her for the first time since he’d arrived.
Brown eyes. What had happened to the purple eyes from the night before?
“I’m just…” He broke eye contact. “Dealing with some things. I’ll figure it out.”
Why did that answer bother her?
She tried to push the concern aside. “I wanted to thank you for last night. After I put the kids to bed, I got on my knees and talked to God like you suggested. I still have a ways to go to forgive James, but God gave me a peace I haven’t had in a long time.”
“That’s great.” The words, said with a smile, fell flat.
Huh. She’d thought he’d be happier about that.
Well, how much did she really know about him anyway?
A nudge started inside, a nudge she hadn’t felt in a while. Was God telling her to say something?
Yes. And she knew what. “Whatever’s going on, I’m going to give you your own advice. Talk to God.”
He snorted. “It’s not that simple.”
“Maybe it should be.”
Moisture built in his eyes. “I can’t – I can’t hear God like I used to.”
“Have you asked Him why?” Was she really having this conversation? Who was she to advise someone on how to hear the Lord?
“I know why. But I can’t undo it.”
“Maybe not, but God can forgive it.” Heaven knew He’d forgiven her for plenty.
“I know that here.” He tapped his temple before splaying his hand across his chest. “But not here.”
“That’s where faith comes in. Sometimes you have to choose to believe it before you can feel it in your heart.”
“And sometimes it’s not that simple.”
Sheesh, what had he done? The way he carried on, it was like he’d committed the worst sin possible. Like he’d killed someone…
James.
No, he couldn’t possibly have killed James. Could he?
Could he really have sat across from her last night, comforted her in her grief, and talked about God if he had been the one responsible for her pain?
If so, he was a special kind of crazy. Maybe multiple personalities or complete sociopath.
“What did you do?” The words whispered into the near silent room, lined with the fear quelling up inside her.
“I fell.” He blinked rapidly. “So, uh, you have the USB? We’re ready.”
Okay, so he didn’t want to talk about it. That was fine. It was between him and God anyway.
Wasn’t it?
Well, if he did go all crazy on her, at least Aimee was on the other side of the door.
He’s not dangerous.
The words ran through her head. From God? Or her own wishful thinking? She wasn’t sure, but they brought a measure of peace with them.
Dropping her oversized tote to the floor, she rummaged in the front pocket until she found the USB drive. She handed it to him, then rounded the desk to watch over his shoulder as he plugged it in and opened the drive.
Several files popped up – an Excel file, several video files, and a Word document.
Zeke started with the Excel file at the top.
The program started to load, but a pop-up appeared. She skimmed it. Something about the file containing links to another file.
She really didn’t know what it meant, but Excel had never been one of her strengths.
Zeke clicked something and the pop-up disappeared.
The spreadsheet loaded.
A list of dates. Dollar amounts. Some names. Tabs at the bottom indicated years. This year, last year, the year before… whatever this was, it went back four years.
Nothing seemed familiar.
“Do you know what this is?” Zeke’s question drew her gaze down to his upturned face.
Even lined with heaviness, it really was a nice face. And those eyes, though not purple as she’d imagined them to be last night, were kind, in spite of the grief she saw there.
He arched an eyebrow.
Heat touched her ears.
Crud. He’d caught her staring. And was still waiting for her response.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. James was always big on numbers and statistics, but it’s not my thing.”
Minimizing the spreadsheet, he opened the first video file.
A black and white image popped up on the monitor. Oversized metal tables filled the center of a large room. Four men stood by the tables, working with something too small for her to see. The angle of the shot, taken from a birds-eye view high above the room, made her instantly think of a surveillance camera.
A surprisingly high-quality one at that. Whatever these men were doing, wherever they were doing it, someone had spent a fair amount to install good equipment.
The men on the video were doing something with their hands, she couldn’t tell exactly what, but there wasn’t a lot of activity aside from that. “How long is this video?”
Zeke hovered the cursor over the progress bar at the bottom. “About five minutes.”
Hopefully not five minutes of this.
She leaned on the back of Zeke’s chair and settled in. This might be the longest five minutes of her life.
₪ ₪ ₪
The drive had been accessed.
Good thing he�
�d been smart enough to add extra security features.
Tobias strode down the hallway to Isaac’s office, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. “We got a hit.”
Isaac looked up. “Where?”
“Loving Hands Mission downtown.”
“Get down there and get me that drive. If it makes it to the cops…”
The threat hung.
If that drive made it to the cops, they were both toast. “I’m on it.”
₪ ₪ ₪
What are you trying to tell me, James?
Bethany straightened with a sigh. Each of the videos had shown the same room. Some of the men in the room were different, but the room was the same.
Whatever significance those videos held remained a mystery.
Maybe there was no significance. Maybe it was nothing more than the delusions of a drug-addicted man.
Well, there was still one item left on the drive.
Zeke closed the final video and double clicked the Word document.
Confession of James Summers.
The words across the top of the document drained the moisture from her mouth.
Confession.
It exploded across her vision, shredded her mind like shrapnel.
She kept reading.
San Francisco Penitentiary.
Was that where James had been incarcerated?
Some dates followed, but she didn’t know if those were the dates of his imprisonment or something else. A string of numbers was on the line after the dates, but the numbers seemed to have no reason behind them. The fractured document listed things haphazardly, as though James had simply sat down and typed out random thoughts without bothering to tie any of them together.
Maybe that was exactly what he’d done.
But why? If he was going to go to the trouble to write it down, why not make sure it made sense?
Then again, James hadn’t made much sense for the last few years. Why should he start now?
She skimmed the few remaining words. Multi-million dollar enterprise. Tobias. Ward.
Ward? What ward? It was the final word on the document. Had James finished what he’d been trying to say? Or had he been interrupted?