When Never Comes

But no one was listening. Nor were the words spewing from Ray’s mouth particularly godly as he continued to flail, spittle flying like a rabid dog as he tried to shake Wade’s hold. As far as Christy-Lynn could tell, Wade had yet to throw a punch, his intent to restrain rather than harm. She was almost disappointed.

Finally, Wade gave Ray’s arm one last vicious yank, releasing him so abruptly he nearly toppled over. “You’re a big man,” he said through gritted teeth as Ray stood wiping flecks of spit from his chin. “Big on threats. Big on bullying. So yes, by all means, let’s go to court. But I don’t think a custody battle was ever your intent. In fact, I think that’s the last thing you want. You see I’ve done a little homework, Reverend. There’s a rumor—though I’m betting it’s more than just a rumor—about a certain cheerleader from Riddlesville High School. Her name is Tina Gibson, a member of your congregation, I believe. Sings in the youth choir. Ring any bells?”

Ray dropped his arms, suddenly still.

Ellen took a step forward, a hand on her belly. “Ray?”

But Ray wasn’t looking at his wife. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s see if I do,” Wade responded coolly. “According to my source, Tina had to go away for several months last summer after a visit to a certain nurse over in Wheeler almost killed her—a visit you not only drove her to but allegedly paid for. I couldn’t verify that last part, but let’s run with it anyway, shall we?”

Christy-Lynn stood openmouthed, gaping at the drama unfolding before her. How on earth could he possibly know those things? And yet it was obvious he did know because Ray had gone a terrible shade of gray, as if all the blood had drained from his body. He stood glaring at Wade, half of his shirt untucked.

“It’s a lie!”

“Not according to Tina’s boyfriend. Doug Simpson, I believe his name was. Captain of the wrestling team and very angry with you apparently. He couldn’t wait to spill the details. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’d be willing to spill them to anyone who’ll listen—including a judge if you’re still inclined. But then, I’m betting you’re not. I’m no expert, but I don’t think there are a lot of judges who’d hand over a three-year-old girl to that kind of scum. I could be wrong though. Ball’s in your court.”

Ellen Rawlings hadn’t moved a muscle during the exchange, but there were twin spots of color on her cheeks now. In three long steps, she closed the distance between herself and her husband, clearly seething. “You said it wasn’t true. You swore!”

Ray rounded on his wife, fists knotted at his sides. “Shut up, Ellen!”

Wade was smiling now, but his eyes were hard, devoid of anything like humor. “Here’s the long and short of it, Ray. If you pursue this scheme of yours, if you so much as think about coming after that child or her money, or harassing your grandmother for so much as a penny from that trust, I’ll make sure every person in this town knows what you are. The cheerleader. The check fraud. The real estate scheme. All of it. And that’ll be the end of your precious congregation—and the collection plate that goes with it.”

Ray’s mouth worked mutely as he sawed at his tie. After a moment, he pivoted toward the van and stalked away, leaving his pregnant wife to trail after him.

Christy-Lynn held her breath until the van had pulled out of sight, then turned to look at Wade. “What just happened?”

“I think I’ve just gotten rid of the reverend for you.”

Christy-Lynn nodded, a blend of confusion and relief. “Yes, I got that part. But how did you know about the cheerleader?”

“Like I told Ray, I did some homework.”

“You made another call.”

“I had a hunch, and it turned out to be right. Man’s got quite a past if you talk to the right people. Even had a couple of arrests way back that I doubt his flock knows about. You were right. He was never going to court—not with his past—but he was banking on you not knowing that.”

“That’s why you wanted to come,” she said, suddenly understanding. “You wanted to be here in case he showed up and tried to pull something. But how did you know he would?”

Wade shrugged. “I didn’t. But guys like that don’t change their stripes. I wasn’t about to let you to get blindsided.”

For a moment, Christy-Lynn wasn’t sure she could speak, the lump in her throat suddenly threatening to cut off her words. He had done this for her. Not for Iris, who until today he had never met, but for her, because he knew how much it mattered. “I honestly don’t know what to say. Except thank you, of course. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here. I might have actually paid him. The thought of Iris living with that—” She broke off, not wanting to finish the thought. “I guess we’d better go back in and let Rhetta know no one’s dead.”





FORTY-TWO

Rhetta was weeping quietly when they walked back into the house, cradling Iris and crooning some indecipherable tune. She glanced up, blinking to clear her vision. “Where’s Ray?”

“I don’t think he’ll be around for a while,” Wade said gently. “We had a conversation. I think he understands that Iris is better off here with you.”

Rhetta nodded, though she was clearly bewildered. She closed her eyes briefly, heaving a shaky breath. “I need to smoke. Can you look after her while I’m outside?”

Christy-Lynn turned to Wade. “Can you? I’d like to talk to Rhetta a minute.”

Rhetta planted a kiss on Iris’s pale head. “Nonny needs to go out on the porch for a few minutes. Can you stay and color with the nice man?”

Iris turned wide eyes toward Wade.

The hard angles disappeared from Wade’s face as he bent down to meet Iris’s gaze. “Christy-Lynn showed me the fish you colored for her. She has it on her refrigerator so all her friends can see it. Do you think you could color one for me? Maybe a blue one?”

Iris eyed him warily but took his hand when he extended it. Christy-Lynn watched as he led her to the coloring books scattered in the corner and settled down beside her on the rug, as if it coloring with a three-year-old was something he did every day.

Rhetta struggled up out of her chair, already patting her pockets for her cigarettes. She moved slowly, almost brokenly, as she stepped out onto the porch and groped her way to her chair. Her hands trembled as she plucked a cigarette from the crumpled packet. It took three tries to light it.

She was quiet for a time, pulling in smoke, pushing it out. Finally, she turned to Christy-Lynn. “I’m sorry about my grandson. He’s . . . not a nice man.”

“You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want to show him the papers. Because you were afraid he’d try something like this.”

Rhetta nodded wearily as she blew out a lung full of smoke. “I knew he’d get his hands on the money if he found out, so I kept it quiet. But he showed up one day, and the papers were on the kitchen table. He doesn’t give a damn about that girl. Neither does Ellen. They just see dollar signs.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He told me not to.” She closed her eyes, her lids blue-veined and paper-thin. “He’s got an awful temper.”

“Are you afraid of him, Rhetta?” Christy-Lynn asked, already knowing the answer.

“It isn’t just that. He and Ellen are the only family I have—the only help I have. They do my shopping and my errands, run me to the doctor when I need to go, pick up my medicine. I don’t know what I’d do if they quit. But that isn’t the worst of it.” She paused, crushed out her cigarette, then fumbled to light another. “One day I’ll be gone. And then what? They were my only hope for Iris, which is why I’ve been so torn. Part of me hoped the money might bring them around. But then today, when I heard him saying those things and saw the look on Iris’s little face, I knew I couldn’t let him anywhere near her. I’d rather let the county have her. At least she’ll have a chance.”

Christy-Lynn felt the words like a physical shock. They had been Missy’s words too. But they weren’t true. She of all people knew that. “You don’t mean that. You can’t. There must be some local family who’d be willing to take her—a decent family. My lawyer could help arrange the adoption.”

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