Courageous (33 page)

Four hours later Adam had things to take care of at the sheriff’s department, so Shane was on his own for lunch. As he finished his vending machine sandwich, Shane said hi to Sergeant Smith as a few deputies entered the break room. He left and walked into the hallway adjoining the county courthouse and the sheriff’s office.

“Fuller,” Sergeant Murphy called, standing just outside a courtroom. He held a clear bag of white drug cookies.

“Hey, Sarge. What’s up?”

“They’re still doing motions in here and I’ve got to testify. Mind dropping these by the evidence room for me?”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “No problem.”

Shane took the bag, and Sergeant Murphy walked off.

Weird. Sarge is usually a stickler for chain of custody. And he didn’t even ask me to sign for it?

Shane came to the evidence room. “Anybody here?”

He checked his watch. The evidence room was low traffic, especially at lunch hour.

Shane looked outside, saw it was clear, then sat at a table with a small lamp. He turned it on and set the bag of crack-laced cookies down, then opened a drawer and pulled out gloves. He looked at the doorway before putting on the gloves and opening the bag.

Shane transferred two crack cookies into a separate bag, which he put in his pocket. He took a marker and wrote on the bag, altering the information.

Shane worked swiftly and efficiently. And, he thought, smartly. He never saw the hidden camera.

He heard movement behind him. He whipped around, knocking over his chair as he turned.

“What are you doing, Shane?”

“Adam . . . ?”

“It was you? So this is what you’ve been doing?”

“What are you talking about? I’m just rechecking the count before I turn it in.”

“Don’t lie to me! You’ve got drugs in your pocket right now.”

Shane stared at Adam a moment, then slowly pulled out the bag and put it on the table. His expression hardened. “You won’t turn me in. It’ll just be an ugly mess and embarrass the whole department. Besides, it would be your word against mine.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Nathan stepped into the room.

“Oh, I see. Two cops camp out to bust their friend.”

Adam’s neck veins swelled. “What have we been talking about for the last month? What did you commit to?”

“Don’t throw that in my face! I work hard, and thirty-six thousand a year doesn’t cut it! I risk my life every day to protect people who don’t appreciate it enough to pay me a decent wage. Figured it wouldn’t hurt anybody if I gave myself a little raise from money that doesn’t belong to anyone.”

Outraged, Adam moved toward Shane, who backed into the wall.

“Does your word mean nothing to you? You signed the same Resolution we did, and you throw it down the toilet for what? An extra thousand a month?”

“Adam.” Nathan tried to calm him.

“You’ve lied to all of us, Shane! To your friends, your son, to God.” He took another step.

“Adam!” Nathan stepped between them.

Adam moved back and looked at Shane like he didn’t know him.

Shane glared at Adam. “I’m a fellow officer and your friend. You do not want to do this.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Sergeant Murphy, Sergeant Smith, and Riley Cooper walked quickly into the room.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” Murphy said. “Shane Fuller, you are under arrest.”

“This is a mistake!”

“We got it all on camera,” Murphy said.

“This’ll burn all of us. Is that what you want? Is that
really
what you want?”

Adam stood wearily as they cuffed his partner of thirteen years and walked him out. Shane’s words haunted him. How could this have happened?

Nathan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We all agreed, Adam. We are
doubly
accountable.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

While Adam grilled burgers, Dylan came to talk.

“Six burgers? Two for you, two for me, one for Mom. Somebody else coming over?”

“Nah.” Adam poured on some Worcestershire sauce and gave a generous shake of Lawry’s seasoning salt. The flame-grilled aroma and the sizzle were much-needed therapy.

“Dad, what’ll happen to Mister Shane?”

“They’ll separate him from the general population in the Dougherty County Jail. Private cell. He wouldn’t be safe around inmates, especially the ones we put there.”

Dylan heard the discouragement in his father’s voice.

“Maybe in a couple of months he’ll be sentenced, then moved to prison. Probably be federal charges, too. We’re talking major prison time.”

Adam flipped the burgers.

“What about Tyler?”

“I told Shane I’d look out for him.” Adam’s voice cracked, and he wiped his eyes, pretending it was the smoke. Then he realized his pretense and stopped hiding the tears from his son.

“Dylan, I know Tyler’s just twelve, but . . . would you mind if he comes over sometimes and hangs out with us?”

“No problem.”

“I haven’t seen much of him since Shane and Mia split up. But he seems like a good kid.”

“When he was maybe eight and I was eleven, I guess, we had that vacation together, remember? Waterskiing?”

“Maybe he could go camping or fishing with us. Or just watch a movie.”

Dylan nodded.

“You could be a good role model to him, Dylan. He could use a big brother. His father’s choices have already scarred his life. Unless someone helps him . . .” Adam’s voice broke again.

“We can help him, Dad. I’m in.”

“That means the world to me, Son.”

Victoria joined them with potato salad and iced tea. After they sat down to eat, Dylan noticed his dad slip a hamburger patty under the table to Maggie.

After dinner Victoria cleared the patio table while Adam cleaned the grill.

Dylan hung around. Finally he asked, “Dad, how did Mister Shane get messed up?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t really know. I keep thinking about his question ‘Is this what you want?’ Of course, it wasn’t. Obviously, it’s not what
he
wanted either. Yet he’s the one who made his choices, the little compromises.”

“They were big compromises, weren’t they?”

“In the end, yes. But the big slide begins with small choices. Each one leads to the next. Unless you stop, the little rocks become an avalanche.” Adam looked at his son. “It wasn’t just that hidden camera that got Shane. He didn’t realize that there’s a hidden camera on everyone, all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“God always watches us, Dylan. There’s no such thing as a private moment. Our choices have consequences. We don’t get away with anything.”

“That’s scary.”

“Yeah. But remember how He cares about us, so much that He died for us. He’s seen us at our worst but still loves us. Since He knows how bad we are, that’s pretty encouraging. He forgives us when we ask Him. We just need to remind ourselves we can’t keep secrets from God. That will keep us from pretending like Shane did. I wonder how real Shane’s faith is.”

“He usually went to church, didn’t he?”

“Sure, but that’s not the same thing. I used to think it was. Now I realize my relationship with Jesus wasn’t very deep before Emily died.”

“Haven’t you always been a Christian?”

“My parents raised me as a Christian and took me to church, but there’s more to it than that. The apostle Paul calls on people to follow his example. I’d like to be an example for you, Dylan. But I haven’t always been a good one. So I want to ask your forgiveness. I haven’t paid good attention to you. I haven’t always treated you with respect. I want to change that.”

“You
have
changed, Dad.”

They went inside and continued their conversation in Adam’s office. When the time seemed right, Adam said, “I’ve been thinking that you and I should memorize some Bible verses together. We could talk about them sometimes while we run.”

“Memorize?”

“Yeah. It was new to me, too. Are you up for that?”

“What verses?”

Adam picked up a list with a dozen verses on it. “Here’s the first one, John 3:3. ‘Unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.’”

“I’ve heard that before, but I never really knew what it meant.”

They talked for another hour. Adam didn’t watch television. Dylan didn’t play video games. Neither of them noticed.

“Whassup, girl?” Derrick took a seat across from Jade in the high school cafeteria.

Derrick eyed Jade’s friend Lisa, who said, “I’ll leave you two alone.” She picked up her tray and vanished.

“Did you talk to your mom about us?”

Jade nodded. “She’s sort of open to us spending a little time together.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, she knows you’re a good student.”

“That’s cool,” Derrick said.

“She still thinks you were rude when you dropped by our house.”

“Your dad was rude. I was just mindin’ my own business.”

“You know how he feels.”

“Well, girl, you need to decide how
you
feel. I like you, Jade. But I can’t just wait around for you a couple of years until your daddy lets his little girl out of the nursery.”

“We can talk here at school. And we can still text.”

“Does your dad know we’re havin’ lunch and textin’?”

“No. I guess he doesn’t have to know. I mean we’re not datin’ or anything.”

“But I
want
to be datin’ you.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“Then let’s do it, Jade. Tell your parents you’re spendin’ the night at Lisa’s Friday. I’ll pick you up from her house.”

“But . . . I don’t want to lie to them.”

“What’s the big deal? There’s nothin’ wrong with us having a good time together, right? They don’t own ya, girl.”

“No. But . . .”

“You need to decide. I been holdin’ out for you. You can’t expect me to sit on my hands and not have a girl for another year. I’m movin’ up in the world. I’d like you to move up with me. Don’t you want that?”

“Yeah, I do. But . . .”

“You keep sayin’
but
, girl. Your daddy’s got a problem. Don’t let his problem be your problem. I’m livin’ my own life now, makin’ my own choices. You need to live your own life too.”

“You keep sayin’
but
, girl. Your daddy’s got a problem. Don’t let his problem be your problem. I’m livin’ my own life now, makin’ my own choices. You need to live your own life too.”

Chapter Thirty-eight

“Fried green tomatoes?” Adam asked as he sat at Aunt Bea’s, joining Nathan, Javy, and David.

“Kayla’s got me back on them,” Nathan said. “I’ve been thinking. Here we are—a black man and a brown man and two extremely white men—sharing this table as brothers. That is exactly what Martin Luther King dreamed about.”

“An Albany diner?” David asked.

Nathan smiled. “In one of the greatest speeches ever made—Washington, DC, 1963—King said, ‘I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.’ Well, I’m a descendant of slaves. You two both grew up in the South, so you’re likely descendants of slave owners.”

“Really?” David had never thought of that. Of course, he could never know who he descended from on his father’s side.

“My mother’s great-grandmother was a slave,” Nathan continued. “Paul says in Ephesians 2 that Christ has broken down the barriers that divide the races. If Jews and Gentiles can be one, then blacks and whites and Hispanics and Asians can be one. The Flint River divides Albany, but it doesn’t have to divide the people of Albany. You know, Adam, William Barrett told me that your church was the first one to help his when the last flood hit. And they’ve never forgotten that.”

Adam nodded. “It was just a few years ago I heard that Martin Luther King was arrested in Albany, then run out of town. The police carried out their orders. I’d like to think I would have refused on the basis of principle. But given the times, I doubt I would have. That bothers me.”

They talked awhile longer. Thanks to the jukebox, they had to raise their voices over the Beach Boys, Herman’s Hermits, and Three Dog Night. Eventually the conversation turned to the Resolution.

Nathan asked, “It’s just plain hard work, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” Adam said. Each man nodded and laughed, relieved to get it out in the open.

“It’s tough,” David offered. “But I like the challenge. It’s kind of like football. Sometimes I find myself thinking like I used to, and I have to remind myself I’m a new person now. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says that.”

“And without God’s strength, we won’t make it,” Adam said. “Our own resolve isn’t enough. Shane signed the Resolution just like we did. It humbles me to realize that on my own, I’m no better than Shane. I could go down, maybe in some other way than he did, but I could definitely go down.”

“We all could,” Javy agreed.

Nathan nodded. “I heard Shane say that Rome is falling and the barbarians are winning.”

“He said that often. But I’ve heard the Romans’ own moral corruption took them down. If they hadn’t let themselves become morally weak, they wouldn’t have been defeated by the barbarians. And if we’re not careful, we could self-destruct too.”