Page 20 of Boo


  “Ainsley, how are ya?” Garth said, a twisted smile on his narrow face.

  Ainsley folded her arms, glancing at her father, who was more into the football game than their exchange. “Garth, what are you doing here?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “I couldn’t imagine.”

  “Watching the game with your dad, of course. And”—he held up a can of Coke—“enjoying a cold one.”

  Ainsley rubbed her temples and shook her head. “Right. Well, I’m going upstairs to lie down. I’m tired.”

  Garth hopped up off the couch. “Quite a day at church, wasn’t it?”

  “Quite a day.”

  “Wonder what’s gotten into the reverend?”

  “Are you asking out of concern, Garth, or just because it’s something to talk about?”

  Garth scowled. “Why don’t you take a couple of aspirin? Headaches make you a little grouchy.”

  “And what do they do for you, Garth? Make you do a song and dance?”

  “Quiet, you two,” her father said. “I’m trying to watch the game.”

  Garth moved out of the living room, closer to Ainsley. “Actually, I came by to talk to you and your father about Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, you’re busy. Too bad. Maybe next year.”

  “Noooo,” Garth said with a frown. “I came to see if I could bring a guest.”

  “A guest?”

  “Yes, a guest. You know, it means an invited—”

  “Garth!” Ainsley snapped.

  “I said it’d be okay,” her dad said from the living room, his eyes glued to the television. “Figured we’d have enough room.”

  Ainsley looked back at Garth. “Fine, bring a guest.”

  “Don’t you want to know who it is?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I bet you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. I wasn’t sure how to break it to you.”

  Ainsley suppressed a laugh. Garth was seeing someone? “Who?”

  “I bet you’re dying to know now, aren’t ya?”

  “Garth, for crying out loud. Who is she?”

  “Melb. Melb Cornforth.”

  “From church?”

  “Yes, from church.”

  “Oh … um …” Ainsley had to try harder not to laugh. “Isn’t she in her … late forties?”

  “So?”

  “I didn’t realize you liked older women.”

  “They have a maturity that other women I know don’t have,” Garth said. His nose tipped upward into the air.

  Ainsley’s laugh slipped out as a violent burst. Her father even turned around momentarily.

  “Something funny?” Garth asked.

  “No, no,” Ainsley said, covering her mouth and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I just … never pictured you two together.”

  “Opposites attract. And there’s a major attraction there. We can hardly keep our eyes off each other.”

  Ainsley’s eyes teared up with each word Garth spoke. She finally gained control of herself and managed to smile.

  “So,” Garth continued, “I wanted to bring her to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Of course,” Ainsley said. “She’s welcome.”

  “I hope we can stay long enough for turkey. We like to spend a lot of time alone, you know. People in love often do.”

  “No! Oh, you moron!” her father shouted at the television. “Blakely just threw an interception!”

  Garth winked at Ainsley before returning to the living room. “I thought the day they drafted that guy they made a huge mistake,” Garth said. “Well, I’ve got to get going.” He strutted past Ainsley and out the door with a charmed look on his face.

  Ainsley went to the kitchen, leaned on the counter, and laughed some more. Garth and Melb Cornforth? Was this a joke? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine those two together. Remarkably, it wasn’t hard, and Ainsley hoped that maybe, for once in his life, Garth might leave her alone and find true happiness with someone else.

  It seemed, frankly, like a pipe dream.

  “To chat?”

  “Why yes. And to welcome you to the church, of course.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Tell me a little about your religious background, dear.”

  Wolfe stared at the woman, trying to understand what she really wanted to talk about. He watched her gulp her water as if it were something special. Surely she was just a nice, elderly woman with good intentions. Lonely, maybe. Hadn’t Ainsley shown him how to behave just this afternoon? He thought about how she’d treated those two people with such respect, compassion, and grace.

  “Well,” Wolfe said, “I don’t really have a religious background.”

  “None at all?”

  “No.”

  “Dear heavens, child. At least tell me a Mormon has come and knocked on your door.”

  “Not that I recall.”

  This seemed to disturb her deeply.

  “My parents raised me to appreciate God and respect others, but I suppose I’ve let even that slip away over the years. I’ve never prayed or gone to church. But I’ve always felt Him near. When I walk in the early morning, or watch the sun set, or—”

  “Yes, yes, dear, that’s nice and all. But we don’t worship the sun, you know. And besides, the question here is, do you fornicate?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Or drink? Or smoke? Or curse?”

  “I’m … um …?”

  “Or fornicate?”

  “You already said that.”

  “Did I? Well sometimes that particular sin is worth mentioning twice. Although it almost feels like a sin just to say it.” Her eyes seemed to suck all the light out of the room. She leaned forward in her seat a little. “Oh, honey, don’t look so concerned. I’m sure you’re not wrapped up in any of those things.”

  “No, I—”

  “But don’t think the devil won’t come in and tempt you. You’re an enemy now, son. And before you know it, the smell of alcohol will entice you, and women will start looking good to you.”

  “Women never looked bad to me.”

  “Yes, but the draw will be such that you won’t be able to resist. Even an old lady like me might look inviting.” She winked, and Wolfe felt his stomach turn. “The devil has a way of laying traps, traps that will trip you up, make you fall. Or, as we’re fond of saying, backslide.”

  “Miss Peeple, with all due respect, I’m not exactly sure what your point is. I thought that now I would be able to resist temptation.”

  Miss Peeple blinked precisely twice. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “About what?”

  “Love, peace, joy, faith, grace, et cetera, et cetera. All those fun little phrases Christians like to throw around like chicken feed. The Christian life is about righteousness. Holiness. People don’t like to use those words much. They like those mushy, feel-good words. But if the Christian life were that easy, everyone would embrace it, wouldn’t you say?” A strange twinkle glinted off her eyes.

  “So what’s the good news then?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I always thought that gospel meant ‘good news.’ ”

  “Oh it does, dear. The good news is that you have me.” She lowered her voice, as if someone might be listening. “There aren’t too many people who’d come up here, tell it like it is. I’m here because I don’t want you to be deceived. Incidentally, another word Christians are fond of pretending doesn’t exist. Deceeeeiiiived. You should be comfortable with saying that word.” She said it again, like a snake hissing.

  Wolfe leaned back against the couch, thinking this woman was nothing like Ainsley or Reverend Peck. Their lives seemed simple. Good. Pure. Happy. This woman seemed … complicated. But then, she’d lived a long time. Elderly people, he’d always presumed, possessed a wisdom that was hard to find among the general population.
br />   “Son, what I’m trying to tell you,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, “is that being a Christian is hard. I don’t want you to come in with the wrong idea. You have to work at being good, work at defeating the devil, work at doing good works. Do you understand? Many are called, but few are chosen. There’s a reason that scripture is in the Bible. Not everyone is good enough.”

  Wolfe stared at her, but he couldn’t see her. All he could see was his past and everything he’d done. His thoughts quickly turned to Ainsley, and what a wonderful human being she was, how good she was. His head throbbed suddenly with the realization of who he really was. He hadn’t thought about it once in the last week. But now it consumed him. Was he truly deceived into thinking that he could ever be like Ainsley? What was it, exactly, that Reverend Peck had said about being a new creation?

  “May I have another glass of water?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Water?” She held up the empty glass. “The air’s a little dry. I’m parched.”

  “Sure. Water.”

  He hardly took notice of her as he grabbed the glass and went to the kitchen. His heart felt heavy. How could he have imagined that this new life would be easy? Uncomplicated? And right for him? He rubbed his forehead. Something wasn’t right, but all he felt was confusion. And dread … at trying to live up to standards he barely knew anything about.

  He realized water was spilling over the side of the glass and onto his hand. He quickly shut off the faucet, poured a little more out of it, dried the outside of the glass, and took it back into the living room.

  To his surprise, Miss Peeple wasn’t sitting in her chair. Her cane, however still leaned against the wall next to it. Where in the world could she be?

  His heart seemed to stop.

  She was on the floor, flat on her back, unconscious, and looking very, very stiff. And then he noticed something even more frightening … blood trickling from her head.

  He tried to look away, but it was too late.

  CHAPTER 20

  OLIVER SAT AT the breakfast table in the Parker home, watching Ainsley prepare hot chocolate. He loved her hot chocolate. Always topped off with real whipped cream and chocolate slivers.

  “I’m so glad you dropped by, Ollie,” Ainsley said, joining him at the table. “How’s the business?”

  “Fine. Your car still running good?”

  “Of course.” She smiled.

  “Good, good.”

  “You okay?” Ainsley said, peering at him. “You look like something’s bothering you.”

  Oliver swallowed. A transparent fellow he’d always been. He was being pulled in one direction by his heart and in another by his conscience. Part of him thought he shouldn’t interfere with Ainsley and Wolfe. Yet with the news that Missy had just told him—how Melb had hooked up with Garth—things were different now. More was at stake. How would he ever get to Melb with Garth in the picture? And the only way to get Garth out of the picture was to get Ainsley into the picture. According to Missy, the only person Garth was more smitten with than Melb was Ainsley. If Ainsley and Garth were together, then …

  “Oliver?”

  “I’m sorry. I just faded out, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” She chuckled, then her face turned concerned. “Are you okay?” He glanced to the living room, where the sheriff was watching football. She smiled. “It’s okay. If there’s a game on, he tunes out everything else. He wouldn’t hear me if I told him the house was on fire.”

  “It’s about Boo.”

  “What about him?”

  “I know you’re seeing him.”

  She patted Oliver on the hand. “Oliver, it’s okay. He’s a nice guy. Genuine. Good heart. You have no reason to worry.”

  Oliver swallowed. Okay. Well, that went poorly. What was he supposed to say now? Ah yes, a couple of good words came to mind. Not his. Missy’s, actually. But it would seem they might come in handy now.

  “Aren’t you unequally yoked?”

  Ainsley’s bright green eyes studied Oliver intently. “I don’t know.”

  “Especially if you’re not sure he’s really, you know … saved,” he said in a whisper, as if the very mentioning of it might cause the walls to fall.

  Oliver watched her stare down her drink. Then she looked up at Oliver. “I know your heart’s right, but you have no reason to worry.”

  “Oh. Good.” Oliver smiled and licked the cream off his hot chocolate. He tried to seem casual and high-spirited, but the only thing he was thinking was what a disaster this was, and that if she were a Chevy he’d have her sold. But she wasn’t. She was a woman with an enamored heart. As disastrous as this was, he still had one more angle to try.

  “Did Boo ever mention how he got saved? I mean, who it was that shared the … that witnessed … that, you know, got him saved?”

  Ainsley’s forehead wrinkled. She was just about to say something when the shrill sound of the phone interrupted their conversation. The sheriff stood. “Who is calling me during the game?”

  “As if the world revolves around football,” Ainsley said with a laugh. She sipped her hot chocolate while they both watched the sheriff make his way to the phone.

  “I have two days off, I want to watch the game, and someone feels they have to call me?” He grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” A pause. “What? When? Are you sure? Yes, I’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone quickly and went to get his coat.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  Without turning around he said, “That was Garth. Missy Peeple is unconscious on the floor of Wolfe Boone’s house. And Wolfe Boone is out cold too. Rescue units are on the way.”

  Three police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck surrounded Wolfe’s house. Ainsley and Oliver followed her father up the steps. Her heart pounded with anxiety, her head with a thousand questions. What happened? Why was Missy, of all people, at Wolfe’s house? And how did Garth find them?

  She walked through the front door just in time to be in the way of two EMTs pushing Miss Peeple on a gurney. “Excuse me, Ainsley,” one of them said.

  “Sorry,” Ainsley breathed, stepping aside. By the looks of things, Miss Peeple still appeared to be alive, but barely. Ainsley spotted Wolfe on his couch, his head in his hands.

  “Wolfe,” she said, rushing over to him.

  He looked up with tired eyes. “Ainsley.”

  “Are you okay? What happened?”

  He shook his head, staring at the carpet. “I don’t know.”

  A shadow fell over Wolfe’s body. Ainsley looked up to find her father hovering. Wolfe’s eyes opened attentively.

  “Wolfe Boone, I’m Sheriff Parker,” he said, his voice low and authoritative, the way he spoke on the job. Dread filled Wolfe’s expression, then overflowed into her own heart.

  “Hello, sir,” Wolfe said, standing and shaking hands with him.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Okay.” Wolfe sat back down, but her father remained standing.

  “What exactly happened here?”

  “I’m not sure,” Wolfe said. “I went to get Miss Peeple a glass of water, and when I came back, she was on the floor.”

  “And how’d you get on the floor?”

  “I just passed out, I guess. The blood. On her head.”

  “Why was she in your house?”

  “She said she came by to welcome me to the church and just talk. I’d never met her before. I didn’t even know who she was until I saw her at church this morning.”

  “So she just came knocking on your door? Unexpectedly?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how long was she here before this incident happened?”

  “A few minutes, I guess. Fifteen.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  Wolfe glanced at Ainsley, then back at her dad. “Well, she was here explaining the Christian faith to me.”

  Her father frowned as he jotted some notes down. “I see. And then you went to get her so
me water?”

  “Well, she asked for a glass right when she came in. So I gave her some. She drank that quickly, talked a little more, then asked for a second glass. That’s what I was doing, getting her another glass of water, when I came back in and found her on the floor.”

  Sheriff Parker stepped back a little and looked at the wood floor near the couch. “And why, exactly, is there shattered glass here on the floor, son?”

  “I must have dropped the glass when I passed out.”

  “I see.” Her father took more notes. Ainsley hated the tone in his voice. It was accusatory and unnecessary. She tried to catch her father’s eyes, but he was avoiding her. Ainsley couldn’t stand the tension anymore. Taking her father by the elbow, she steered him to a corner.

  “Surely it’s pretty clear what happened here,” she said.

  Her father didn’t look up from his notepad, as if he had expected her at some point to speak. “Is it? What exactly did happen, then?”

  Ainsley sighed. “We don’t know why Miss Peeple passed out, but Wolfe obviously didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Her father stuck his notepad in his pocket. “His passing out seems pretty suspicious to me. He can’t explain it.”

  Ainsley sighed again. “Dad, he doesn’t want to explain it. He’s … embarrassed.”

  “About what?”

  “He passes out at the sight of blood, okay? Satisfied?”

  She watched this register in her father’s face, and then he looked at her. “How do you know?”

  She swallowed. How did she know? The movie. Oh no. She’d have to—

  “Well?”

  She knew this would help Wolfe. She took a deep breath. “Because he took me to the movie Bloody Thursday, the one based on his book. And there was blood and he passed out.”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Ainsley could see the disappointment.

  “Thief. Thief? Come on. Let’s go.” Her father looked around the house for his cat. “Thief? Thief? Thief?!”

  The cat bounded in from the outside porch, and her father sighed with relief. He picked the cat up and said, “Be careful around here. This isn’t a safe place.” And then he left. Ainsley shook her head and went back to Wolfe.