Beverly Barton - Silent Killer

“Look, I wasn’t around when you unraveled at the seams last year, so I don’t actually know how bad it was for you. But having been there myself, I can imagine. Don’t blame Lorie if she’s worried about you.”

“I don’t blame her. I don’t blame anyone for waiting to see if or when the crazy lady will go bonkers again. But that’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“Good for you.” He looked her over. “Now get your purse and let’s go. I believe Lorie said early morning services begin at nine, right?”

Cathy knew when to give in gracefully. Jack wasn’t going to back down, and in all honesty, she didn’t want him to. For more reasons than she dared admit, she not only wanted Jack at her side this morning, she needed him.

Cathy and Jack walked into the church three minutes before services began. They could have sat at the back, but when she saw Seth sitting in the front row beside J.B., she knew what to do. Jack didn’t hesitate when she marched up the red-carpeted aisle and found a half-empty pew directly behind her son.

She and Jack got a lot of curious stares, which took the people’s minds momentarily off the rumors that were no doubt circulating about Seth, Missy and the other teenagers who had been hauled into the sheriff’s office before daylight this morning. Let them talk about her. She’d been fodder for the Dunmore gossip mill since the day Mark was murdered.

Poor Cathy, losing her husband so tragically.

Poor Cathy, having to raise her teenage son all alone.

Poor Cathy. You heard about her nervous breakdown, didn’t you? She went completely off her rocker and wound up spending a year at Haven Home.

As soon as she sat, she leaned forward and placed her hand on Seth’s shoulder. Startled by her touch, he jerked around and looked at her. His mouth formed the word Thanks. She smiled and patted his shoulder. Just as Seth glanced at Jack, J.B. turned around and glowered at Cathy. Seth looked back and forth from her to Jack and then turned around just as the song leader called out the number for the first hymn.

This church service was not going to be easy for any of them, but it would be pure torture for Seth. If only she could spare him from being on public display. If Mark were here…But he wasn’t. Mark was dead. Seth had no one but her to protect him.

Jack reached between them and took Cathy’s hand in his.

Was this a sign from God? Was the Almighty trying to tell her that she wasn’t all alone?

Cathy had grown up attending church services every time the doors opened. Sunday school, Sunday morning services, Sunday night services, Wednesday night services, vacation Bible school and week-long gospel meetings. No one who knew Cathy’s mother could say Elaine wasn’t a devout Christian, but her single-minded obsession with religion bordered on fanaticism. To Elaine Nelson, anything that was too much fun, too enjoyable, had to be a sin. But by the time she was a preteen, Cathy had realized most members of their small Church of Christ in Dunmore were not fanatics but simply good people trying to live the best life they knew how by following the teachings of Jesus. As a teenager, she had become exposed to other Protestant religions through her school friends and learned that there were indeed people like her mother in all the various denominations.

At seventeen, she had begun feeling trapped by her mother’s restrictions, so when home-on-leave Jackson Perdue had noticed her, she had been ripe for the picking. She didn’t blame Jack, at least not now, and hadn’t for a long time. He’d been twenty, almost twenty-one, and more than three years her senior, but a dozen years older in experience. His bad-boy persona had intrigued her. He’d been moody and intense and drop-dead gorgeous. What teenage girl could have resisted him? She had fallen madly in love with him during their two-week whirlwind romance. And with dreams of happily ever after in her head, she hadn’t hesitated to have sex with him.

Suddenly, when everyone in the congregation stood to sing and Jack tugged on her hand, Cathy snapped back from the past to the present, realizing that she hadn’t heard one word of the last few minutes of Brother Hovater’s sermon. The hymn was an invitation to sinners, both members and nonmembers alike. Members could come forward and ask forgiveness for their sins. Those who had not been baptized into the Church of Christ faith could confess their past sins, proclaim their belief in Jesus as the Son of God and be baptized. This plea to sinners was part of every church service.

Halfway through the chorus, Seth rose to his feet and stepped forward, extending his hand to Donnie Hovater. Missy, who had been sitting several rows behind them, also came forward and placed her hand in her father’s. Both teenagers’ movements were stiff, as if they were robots, their actions programmed into them.

“Please be seated.” Donnie raised and then lowered his hands, emphasizing his instructions to the congregation.

He then took the two teenagers aside and spoke to each of them quietly, their conversations entirely private. Then he guided Seth and Missy to the front bench, where the song leader scooted down to make room for them. As soon as Seth and Missy were seated, Donnie faced the audience.

“Two of our beloved young people have come forward today asking for the Lord’s forgiveness and mercy,” Donnie said, his tone soft and filled with sympathy. “They were led astray by others and found themselves in bad company. They both deeply regret having made an error in judgment that has caused pain and embarrassment to their families.” He bowed his head. “Pray with us as we seek God’s loving goodness and ask Him to forgive Missy Hovater and Seth Cantrell and guide them in the paths of righteousness from this day forward.”

The congregation hummed with whispers and a few louder comments ranging from “Bless them” to “Amen.”

Tears threatened to choke Cathy. How many times had her heart bled for people who came forward during this phase of a church service to confess to some minor indiscretion that could hardly be called a sin. Not unless you considered everything that wasn’t pure and holy a sin. Apparently, many people did. There had been a time, long ago, when she’d been a child, that she had lived in fear of not being good enough, worthy enough, of dying and going to hell. And even though she had been a minister’s wife for more than fourteen years before Mark’s death, she had done her best to raise Seth within the framework of a religion that was based on God’s love and goodness and not on fear.

Just as she had been a product of her upbringing, so had Mark, but he had managed to become his own man despite his father’s iron-fisted approach to fatherhood. And although he had often agreed with J.B.’s strict dogma, more times than not, he had disagreed. Mark had been far more his mother’s son than his father’s, for which Cathy had been exceedingly thankful.

The Sunday morning service ended with another hymn and a final prayer by one of the young deacons. J.B. headed straight for Seth, a satisfied expression on his face. Cathy didn’t think she had ever despised her father-in-law more than she did at that very moment.

She leaned over and whispered to Jack, “I need to talk to Seth.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car.” He glanced around at the horde of parishioners as if they were alien beings. Unless Jack had changed over the years, he was not a religious man.

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

He grinned, then turned and walked away, doing his best to avoid speaking to anyone on his rush up the aisle toward the vestibule.

Cathy smiled, nodded, and even shook hands with several people as she made her way to Seth. By the time she approached her son, Mona and Elaine had joined J.B., and the threesome surrounded him, providing a buffer between her and Seth.