Part 33 (1/2)
”No, thank you.”
Think of something to say to avert either Jack or Seth from commenting on what a coincidence it was that they both loved hot-fudge sundaes with walnuts.
She knew it was silly of her to worry about such a mundane matter. After all, millions of people loved hot-fudge sundaes, didn't they?
”This has to be the most popular place in town.” She glanced around at the full-to-capacity interior. ”I see quite a few people I know.”
”Yeah, ever since it opened last summer, it's been the the happening place,” Lorie said a bit too enthusiastically. ”Even the local ministers hang out here.” She laughed, the sound slightly shrill. ”Look over there.” She lifted her hand and waved. ”There's Patsy and Elliott.” happening place,” Lorie said a bit too enthusiastically. ”Even the local ministers hang out here.” She laughed, the sound slightly shrill. ”Look over there.” She lifted her hand and waved. ”There's Patsy and Elliott.”
”Isn't that Reverend Phillips and his wife?” Seth asked, and they all followed his line of vision to where the black Baptist minister and his wife sat on bar stools at the counter.
As his gaze surveyed the room, Jack paused when he saw his boss. ”There's Mike with M.J. and Hannah.” Jack threw up his hand and waved. Mike motioned to Jack. ”If y'all will excuse me for a minute, I'll go over to say hi.”
As soon as Jack left the table, Seth stood and said, ”I think I'll choose some tunes on the jukebox. Lorie, have you got a preference?”
”Just something loud and fun,” Lorie told him. ”Something that'll make us want to shake our booties.”
Seth laughed. ”I'll see what I can do.”
”What about your mom? Aren't you going to choose something for her?”
”I already know what Mom will want to hear. She used to play it a lot when I was a kid.” Not waiting for a response, Seth made his way through the crowded tables to the jukebox, a modern replica of the type popular in the fifties.
Cathy wanted to call Seth back, to ask him not to choose that particular song, but how could she explain to him why, tonight of all nights, she didn't want to hear what he knew was her heart's choice?
”You've got an odd look on your face.” Lorie studied her closely. ”You're not still concerned about Jack and Seth ordering the same dessert, are you?”
”Goodness, no. A lot of people love hot-fudge sundaes. It's not as if preferences in food are considered hereditary.”
Lorie nodded. ”Yeah, you're right.” She glanced to where Jack stood by the booth across from their table, he and Mike talking and laughing. ”I need to find myself a boyfriend. Somebody big and strong and good-looking. Somebody who doesn't give a d.a.m.n about my notorious past.”
”Before you start boyfriend hunting, I suggest you stop drooling over Mike Birkett. You might find a man who doesn't give a d.a.m.n about your notorious past, but I doubt you'll find one who's willing to play second fiddle to the sheriff.”
”The right man could make me forget Mike.”
”Maybe.”
”Did Mark ever make you forget Jack?” Lorie cursed under her breath. ”Sorry, I had no business asking you. I know you and Mark had a good marriage.”
”We did. And I don't regret marrying him. But to answer your question, no, I never forgot about Jack.”
”Of course you didn't-not with the constant reminder you had.”
Before Cathy could respond, the next song on the jukebox began playing. For a half second her heart stopped as Whitney Houston's amazing voice rose above the clatter inside the Ice Palace.
Cathy closed her eyes as the song her son had chosen for her took her mind back nearly seventeen years. The incredible Ms. Houston sang ”I Will Always Love You,” the song that was playing on the car radio the November night Seth had been conceived. As the mournful words enveloped her, Cathy opened her eyes, and her gaze sought and found Jack. He stopped talking to Mike, turned and looked directly at her. He, too, was remembering the last night they had spent together, the day before Jack left Dunmore to return to active duty.
She knelt in prayer. If anyone noticed her, they would think nothing of seeing her inside the gazebo alone and obviously beseeching G.o.d for His help. No one must ever suspect the truth: that she was G.o.d's angel of vengeance. Her holy mission was a secret pact between her and the Almighty. If anyone discovered her ident.i.ty, they would put an end to her righteous executions.
Only G.o.d knew what was in her heart. What she did, she did for the good of all mankind. If only someone had taken up the task of separating the wheat from the chaff years ago, not only would she have been saved from the agony she endured, but many others would have been, too. But it was not her place to question G.o.d's reasons for allowing these so-called ministers and priests and professed do-gooders to spread their evil. No, her place was to follow G.o.d's instructions and mete out punishment to the wicked blasphemers.
She lifted her face upward toward heaven and respectfully closed her eyes. Her prayers were spoken now in silence, as she suffered in silence. No one could help her. No one could change the past. But she had the power to change not only her future, but the future of others. She must be the protector of the weak and defenseless, those without the power to overcome their oppressors. By slaying those who did not deserve to live, she could wash away her own sins, the sin in which she had been born.
”Speak to me, Lord. Tell me who You have chosen for Your righteous judgment. Lead me along the right path, direct me to his doorstep. Whisper his name in my ear.”
G.o.d had already shown her that Patsy Floyd was to be spared, that indeed she could erase all female clergy from her mental list of chosen ones. Only men were capable of the kinds of carnal evil that required death by fire. Although not blameless, women were to be spared until the final day of judgment. She accepted His decision without question.
”Will I visit Dewan Phillips next?” she asked. ”Or is it time to strike against Donnie Hovater? Speak his name, Lord. Is it either of them, or have You chosen someone else?”
She prayed in earnest until her knees ached and tears streamed down her face. And finally, G.o.d spoke to her. Softly. Quietly. As gentle as the rustle of the wind. But she heard him.
”Yes, of course. I knew in my heart that he would be next. And yes, I will not wait. I will mete out his just punishment tomorrow night.”
How fitting that G.o.d had chosen the night after Bruce Kelley's funeral to strike down yet another wicked blasphemer.
Chapter Twenty-six
This was the last place on earth Cathy wanted to be, but here she was at Bruce Kelley's funeral. A special section of the Decatur Presbyterian Church had been roped off for the family members of the other Fire and Brimstone Killer's victims. And since Mark had been the first victim, at least as far as the authorities knew, that made the Cantrells sort of the first family. Seth had been as disinclined to attend as she had been, but his grandparents had persuaded him that this was the right thing to do. Cathy had come here solely because of her son. He didn't need to go through the ordeal without her. It had been so difficult for him at Mark's funeral. A boy barely fourteen who had loved and admired his father, Seth had put on a brave front in public, being the man his grandfather had expected him to be. But in private her son had wept in her arms.
She looked at him today, sitting between her and his grandfather, and saw the man he would become instead of the boy he had been. He was on the precipice of manhood, a mixture of man and boy, testing his wings to see if he could safely fly away from the nest. He was tall at six feet, and she suspected he would grow another couple of inches in the next few years. Although he had inherited her brown hair, her smile, her bone structure and even her nose, he possessed his father's beautiful blue eyes and lanky build. Wearing his navy blue suit and red and gray striped tie, with his Bible resting in his lap and sitting shoulder to shoulder with J.B, he looked every inch Mark Cantrell's son. And for all intents and purposes, that was exactly who Seth Nelson Cantrell was, who he had been since the day he was born and Mark had claimed him as his own. But in quiet private moments within her heart, the truth still existed. And oddly enough, today of all days, when she looked at her son, so much Mark's son, she saw neither Mark nor herself, but the twenty-year-old soldier who had been her son's biological father.
Jackson Perdue never knew that during their brief, pa.s.sionate romance, they had created a child together.
”Mom, are you all right?” Seth asked.
”Yes, I think so. But I wish the service would start soon. This must be an especially difficult ordeal for the Kelley family, considering Mrs. Kelley's mental state.”
”Yeah, she's kind of pitiful, isn't she? She acts like she doesn't even know where she is or who her kids are.”
”Alzheimer's is a horrific disease.”
”Thanks for coming here today,” Seth said, keeping his voice low. ”I know you did it for me.”
”And you're here for your grandfather.”
He leaned closer and whispered, ”I think I should stay with Granddad and Nana the rest of this weekend. Is that okay with you? I know my weekends are supposed to be with you, but-”
”It's all right, honey. I understand. And I'm so very proud of you.”
Seth's eyes misted.
The church's choir took their places quickly and then sang the first of six songs that were dispersed throughout the service. With her hands folded in her lap, Cathy let her gaze sweep over the audience in front of them and on either side. She recognized numerous faces. Edith Randolph, the second victim's wife, sat directly in front of her, along with the Lutheran minister's children and teenage grandchildren. She a.s.sumed the three Catholic priests to their left were here on behalf of Father Brian. On the other side of the church, not part of the reserved seating for the victims' families, she caught a glimpse of Patsy and Elliott Floyd as well as Brother Hovater, although he seemed to be alone. Undoubtedly, he had allowed Missy to skip the funeral, which in Cathy's estimation made him a good father. Reverend Phillips and his wife sat with several other black couples who Cathy a.s.sumed were members of his church.