Rising Darkness (21 page)

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Authors: Nancy Mehl

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC042060, #FIC053000, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Women journalists—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

BOOK: Rising Darkness
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Relieved, I smiled. “You've got a deal.”

“And don't forget our lunch when you get back.”

“I won't. I promise.”

“Hey, I'll walk you to your car, Zac,” Jonathon said.

Zac grabbed his suitcase and followed Jonathon out to the Mini Cooper. As I watched, Jonathon said something to Zac, but I couldn't hear it. Whatever it was, Zac seemed to take it seriously. Then he tossed his suitcase into his trunk, shook Jonathon's hand, and took off.

I stepped out onto the front porch and waited for Jonathon.

“It's nice out,” he remarked as he came up the steps. “Why don't we sit on the porch for a while?”

“Sounds good.” I sat down in one of the rocking chairs and Jonathon sat in the other. “What were you saying to Zac?”

“I just asked him to do everything he could to get the information to you as quickly as possible.”

“I'm a little afraid he'll go after the story himself if the prints belong to Terrance Chase.”

Jonathon leaned his head back on the rocking chair. “Don't worry about that. He promised he'd contact you first. He'll keep his word. Zac's a good guy.” He turned his head and looked over at me. “Is there anyone you trust, Sophie?”

“I—I'm trying to trust God again.”

“The best place to start.”

“I'm sorry, Jonathon. I wish I wasn't so mistrustful. I'm sure I'm hard to deal with sometimes. It's got to be frustrating for someone like you.”

He smiled. “Every human being on the face of the planet makes a daily choice to trust. Life doesn't really encourage it, you know.”

“You think it's a choice?”

“Sure. Trust doesn't just jump up and overtake you. You have to choose it. When you're whole again, you'll find the ability to trust people.”

“I've never thought about it that way before.”

“Well, if you go outside in the summer and get a sunburn, what are you going to do? Never go outside again?”

“No, I'd stay inside until I recovered. Then I'd go outside again. But I'd probably wear sunscreen this time.”

“Look at God as your sunscreen. When you're healthy, you'll go outside again. But this time, you'll have a covering. The grace, love, and protection of God.”

“I like that. It makes me feel hopeful that someday . . .”

I stopped talking when an odd expression crossed Jonathon's
face. I turned to look at the road. Zac was driving back toward the house. Had he forgotten something?

He pulled up in front of Esther's house and got out of the car, his expression tense.

Jonathon stood up and began to walk toward him. “Is everything all right?”

Zac shook his head. “Uh, no. There's a crowd gathered at the church. That guy? Nate? He's holding some guy hostage inside the building.”

Chapter
Twenty-Two

We all squeezed into Zac's car and raced to the church. Jonathon seemed dazed. When we pulled into the parking lot, a car from the sheriff's department was there, its lights flashing.

Jonathon leapt from the car and ran over to a crowd gathered outside the building. I sprinted after him but had a tough time keeping up. Spotting Reuben, Jonathon grabbed his arm. “What's going on?”

“I'm not actually sure.” Reuben glanced at Zac and me as we jogged up to join them. “Paul got a call that there was a man with a gun inside the church. When he got here, he found that guy you've been helping—Nate? He's holding a gun on Martin Hatcher. Since I know Martin as well as anyone does, Paul called me.”

“Did you say Martin Hatcher?” I couldn't keep the shock out of my voice. “I—I don't understand.”

Jonathon pulled Reuben aside, away from the crowd. Zac and I followed him. “I have no idea why Nate would do something like this, but we think Martin Hatcher might be
wanted by the police.” He jerked his head my way. “Sophie . . . I mean, Emily has reason to believe he's Terrance Chase. The guy who robbed that armored car company back in 2008.”

Reuben looked at us like we were crazy. “Terrance Chase? You think he's Terrance Chase?”

“Yes,” I assured him. “I discovered Chase planned to hide out here after the robbery. Hatcher came here not long after that. He looks like Chase. Same coloring. Same features.”

Reuben shook his head. “Look, I don't know how this relates to this situation, but I can assure you that Martin Hatcher isn't Terrance Chase.” He leaned in as if he was going to tell us a secret. “You know there are people in Sanctuary that have . . . pasts, right? Well, Martin is one of those people.” He looked down at the ground for a moment, as if contemplating something. “I know this because . . . because I helped to relocate him here.” He met Jonathon's eyes. “Martin Hatcher was a witness against a gang member who killed a cop. His testimony helped to put the guy away. He came here for his own protection. I shouldn't even tell you this much, but it looks like I have no choice. You can't repeat this to anyone, and that means you, too.” He directed his last comment toward Zac and me.

“I won't,” Zac said. “You have my word.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, absolutely sure?”

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt. He was placed here by the U.S. Marshals. Paul and I are . . .
were
the only people who knew the truth.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So why is Nate in there with a gun? I don't get it.”

“Could he think Martin is this . . . Chase guy?” Reuben asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “But why would he care? He doesn't know Chase, and he has no connection to the case.”

Reuben studied me for a moment. “You've struck up a friendship with Nate. You need to tell him Martin isn't who he thinks he is.”

“I can do that,” Jonathon said. “I don't want her anywhere near a gun.”

“No,” I said, determination filling my voice. “It has to be me. I mean, he likes you, Jonathon, but he'll trust me.”

Jonathon took my arm. “I don't like this.”

“We'll be careful, Jonathon,” Reuben said. “I won't let anything happen to her. I promise.”

Jonathon wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I'm going with her. No argument. I gave Nate a place to live, and I think he trusts me, too.”

“All right.” Reuben pointed to Zac. “You stay here.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

Reuben nodded. “Keep this crowd back. And call Wynter. She's at our house with Esther. She wanted to come when Paul called me, and I don't want her to worry. Let her know I'm okay and that everything's going to be fine.”

“All right,” Zac said in a low voice. “You just make sure I'm telling her the truth.”

Reuben clapped Zac on the shoulder. “I will. You have my word.” He looked at me. “Come on. We need to get in there before something happens we can't fix.”

Jonathon and I followed him into the church and toward the sanctuary. I could hear voices coming from inside.

When we got to the sanctuary doors, Reuben slowly opened one of them. “Paul, it's me, Reuben,” he called
out. “I've brought Emily and Jonathon. They'd like to talk to Nate, if it's okay.”

As the door opened all the way, I saw Nate at the front of the sanctuary, near the stage, with a gun in his hand. Martin Hatcher was on the floor with his hands up. Paul was about halfway down the center aisle, his gun drawn. As we stepped into the room, Nate looked directly at me. The twisted expression on his face frightened me, and I wondered if he was mentally unbalanced. Why would he go after a man he didn't even know? It didn't make sense.

“Nate,” I called tentatively. “What's going on? What are you doing?”

He said something, but I couldn't hear him very well.

“I can't hear you,” I told him. “Is it okay if I come closer?”

He nodded, and I started down the aisle. I turned and found Jonathon right behind me. I put a hand on his chest. “Stay back. I don't want to spook him. Please.” I could see the concern on his face, and it meant a great deal to me, but Nate seemed to be standing on the edge of a precipice, and I didn't want him to step over it.

“Sophie . . .”

I shook my head and didn't look back at Jonathon, just kept walking slowly up the aisle. When I reached Paul, he stepped in front of me.

“I don't think you should go any closer,” he said softly.

“I'm going all the way. I know I can talk to him. You've got to let me try.”

“All right. But whatever you do, don't get in my way.” From the expression on his face, I knew he would shoot Nate if things got out of hand.

“Okay. But please don't overreact. Give me a chance.”

“Backup is on the way. If you don't get him to put the gun down, I can't guarantee a good outcome. Do you understand me?”

I nodded. His message was clear—and frightening. I couldn't believe I was in this situation. Why in the world would Nate do this? Because I told him I thought Martin Hatcher was Terrance Chase? It didn't make any sense, yet I knew somehow I was partially responsible for what was happening. I had to try to talk to Nate.

I continued walking toward the front of the church. Martin was clearly terrified, afraid Nate was going to kill him. When I finally reached the men, my entire body felt numb from fear and stress. I sat down on the pew in the front, mere feet away from Nate.

“I'm sorry about this, Sophie.” His eyes were wide with emotion. “I know your story is important, but I have to kill him. I can't take the chance he'll get away.”

“Nate, I don't understand.” I made my voice as gentle as I could. “Why in the world would you take this so personally? You don't know this man.”

Tears made his eyes shine. “Yes, I do. I've known him for a long time. He killed my brother.”

For the first time, Martin spoke. “I told him I don't know his brother. I've never killed anyone in my life.”

“Liar!” Nate screamed the word so loudly, it made me jump.

Martin cringed and shielded his head with his hands.

“Nate, what are you talking about?”

“My real name is Donald Abbott. Charles Abbott was my brother.”

My mind raced, trying to figure out what he was telling me. Who was Charles Abbott? Suddenly, I understood. “Charles Abbott? One of the guards killed in the armored car robbery?”

“Yes.” He glared at Martin. “This man talked my brother into letting them into the building that morning. Charlie was supposed to get a cut of what they took. He—he was getting ready to lose his house to the bank. He thought this was his only way out. When he admitted to me what he'd planned, I told him it was wrong. That no amount of money was worth his integrity. I begged him to contact the police, but he wouldn't do it. I should have called them. I could have stopped it. If I had, Charlie would still be alive.”

I realized he'd been talking about his brother at the church supper. He felt guilty for not stepping in and contacting the authorities.

Nate—now Donald—looked at me, grief etched in his features. “He changed his mind. Told this slimeball he wouldn't help him. But they came anyway. And they shot him.”

“I—I'm sorry. But I still don't understand. How did you end up here?” All of a sudden, everything became clear. It was just like in a cartoon. I could swear a light bulb switched on over my head. “You're Donnie.”

He nodded. “I decided to follow Charlie's lead and become a guard. But I applied to work at a prison. In Kansas. What were the chances I'd meet someone who had an idea where to find the man that killed Charlie? It was like . . . it was meant to be. When I found out Tom knew where Chase was, I told him I'd make sure all his mail got out without being intercepted by the office. I planned to get him to tell me what he knew. I even sent him a threatening note so he
wouldn't talk about Chase to anyone else. But I had no idea he'd mailed one letter on his own. To your paper. So I decided to wait until after he talked to you. I couldn't take the chance he'd figure out who I was and refuse to tell me what I wanted to know.”

I glanced at Martin. He was staring at me, panic on his face. I knew he wanted my help, and I was going to do everything I could to save him. Donnie thought he was avenging his brother. If this situation didn't resolve itself, he would become another of Chase's victims. And I didn't want that.

“Donnie, is Tom all right?”

“Yes. I paid a couple of guys to start a fight and get him thrown into solitary. But he's fine. I needed to keep you and him apart so I could find this . . . this animal. I tried to get Tom to tell me where you were, but he got suspicious. He began to suspect me.”

That must have been what Tom was trying to tell me on the phone. Not to talk to Donnie. “But when I called, you got me to tell you where I was.”

“Yeah. Then I tried to talk you into letting me come here and help you. But you wouldn't budge. So I came here anyway and made up a story about my car breaking down and needing help. The pastor let me stay. Where I could wait until you found the answers I'd been searching for.” He lowered the gun for just a moment. “I sent the notes to you, Sophie. The first one was to make you think you were close so you wouldn't give up.”

“And the second?”

“So you'd tell me the truth. Let me in. It was the only thing I could think of.”

“I understand, Donnie. I do. But this man isn't Chase. I was wrong about him.”

“You're lying.” His body suddenly shook with rage, and I was afraid the gun might go off accidentally.

“Look at me, Donnie.”

He turned his face my way.

“I'm not lying. I swear to you. Reuben and Paul know this man. They helped bring him here. You've got to listen to me. I jumped to conclusions because he moved here after the robbery, and he has the same coloring as Chase. Just like a lot of people do. This is my fault. I was so obsessed with finding Chase, I turned Martin into him. Without any evidence. Without proof.” I leaned toward him. “If you hurt an innocent man, Donnie, you'll be dishonoring your brother. You don't want to do that.”

“How can I know you're telling me the truth?”

I tried to find an answer to his question, but in the end, I couldn't. “I don't know,” I said finally. “You'll just have to trust me. You'll have to decide if your hate for Terrance Chase is stronger than making a huge mistake and taking this innocent man's life. If you shoot him, and then find out you were wrong, how will you deal with that? You will have done to him what Chase did to your brother. Is that what you want?”

He lowered the gun a few inches. “No.” His eyes locked on mine. I stood up slowly and took a few steps toward him. “This has gone too far, and I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I see that now. I wanted a story. Something to help my career. And all I've done is cause confusion and pain. Please, Donnie. For
me. Please give me the gun. If you hurt Martin, I won't be able to live with it.”

The battle raging inside was evident on Donnie's face. Finally, he lowered the gun a little more. “Okay. But will you promise me something?”

“Sure. As long as it's something I can do.”

“Will you keep looking? Find Chase? I want him to pay. I want my mother to have closure.”

How could I promise that? All I wanted right now was to get out of this town and forget all about Terrance Chase. But I had no choice. I had to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I promise, Donnie. We'll find him.”

He hesitated, and for just a moment, I was afraid he might turn the gun on himself. But finally he held it out toward me. I came up next to him and took it from his hand. Martin Hatcher broke out in sobs and scrambled away, running over to Jonathon while Paul ran up to us and put Donnie in handcuffs.

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