Paul woke up earlier than he expected. It was a few minutes past nine and the sun was already streaming through the partly open curtains. Yesterday's rain and drizzle had given way to a gorgeous spring morning.
Karen was sleeping soundly as Paul got up. “No sense disturbing her yet,” he told himself as he dressed quietly before leaving the room. Padding silently down the hall in his bare feet he paused outside of Alex's door and looked in. She was fast asleep, curled up on her side. Not used to the cooler temperatures, she had drawn the blankets up over her ears. Sicillia, the cat, was curled up on the bed like a little fur ball, tucked in behind Alex's knees.
Ben was still asleep as well. He had asked his dad to get him when he got up in the morning so Paul woke him up. Groggily he asked his dad what time it was. “It feels more like three in the morning,” he groaned when his dad told him it was after nine. “Can you get me up in another hour?” he asked.
Paul let his son go back to sleep as he headed back out into the hallway. His feet were getting cold walking around on the bare hardwood floors. “Not in the tropics anymore,” he smiled to himself as he headed back to his room for a pair of socks.
A few minutes later, downstairs in the kitchen, Paul put the kettle on for a cup of tea. A note was lying on the table and he picked it up and began reading: “Good morning. There is cereal in the cupboard or bacon and eggs in the refrigerator. Help yourself. Willy Sykes called earlier and would like to get together sometime today. Walked up to the post office. Stopping at the drugstore for coffee and a paper. Be back later.”
Paul set the note back down and selected a white mug with a picture of the Severn River Bridge on it. Setting the cup on the table he pictured his uncle with the rest of the Saturday morning coffee club lined up along the counter in the drugstore sorting out the world. He didn't expect him back much before eleven.
Opening up a cupboard above the microwave, Paul found several boxes and tins of tea and a jar of instant coffee. Selecting a PG Tips box from England, he pulled out a round teabag and set it on the counter. The water was beginning to steam faintly so he poured a little into his cup to warm it up. He set the kettle back on the fire and went to get his reading Bible from the other room.
Coming back into the kitchen he stole a piece of chicken out of the leftover paprikash and stuck it in a slice of rye bread while getting the milk out of the refrigerator. After thanking the Lord for his daily bread he took a bite and chewed on it while he fixed his morning cup.
Once his tea was ready he put the milk and sugar away and sat down to read. Paul enjoyed reading his Bible early in the morning before everyone else was up. It was quieter then and he did not have as many distractions to contend with.
Cupping the warm mug in his hands, Paul bowed his head. The aromatic steam from the tea caressed his face gently as he prayed. Opening his eyes a few minutes later he inhaled the steam deeply before taking a sip. Setting the cup aside he opened up his Bible and took an index card out of the front. It was his memory verse for the week, Genesis 31:3.
He read the verse out loud quietly, “And the LORD said unto Jacob, Return unto the land of thy fathers, and to thy kindred; and I will be with thee.” Turning the card over, he said again from memory. He repeated the process four more times and then read the verse silently six more times before putting the card back in his Bible.
Paul then opened up his Bible to a bookmark in Second Corinthians. Taking out another index card from there he looked at it carefully. The top of the card said, “Through the Bible Reading Record (Alternating Old & New Testaments).” He used the card to keep track of his daily reading as he alternated back and forth through the two Testaments.
According to the card he was to read 2 Corinthians, chapters 6-10. This morning, however, he reached the end of chapter ten and decided to continue reading through the end of 2 Corinthians. After doing so he noted on the card that he was to start in Zephaniah 1 next time and in Galatians after that.
Placing the card and the bookmark back in his Bible at the start of Zephaniah, he turned to Psalm 94 where another card and bookmark were located. After reading that he scratched out the 94 and wrote 95 under it and replaced it in his Bible. From there he turned over to yet another index card at Proverbs 4.
Finishing up, Paul closed the Book and fastened the cover securely. He drained the last of his tea and looked at the clock. It was just about 10:30. Standing up he stretched and then set his cup on the counter before heading up stairs to wake up Ben and check on the others.
Karen met him on the stairs. She had gotten up a few minutes earlier and had gotten a quick shower before heading downstairs. She said that Alex was still asleep with the cat and Ben was just getting up so Paul headed back into the kitchen with her. As Karen selected a mug off the wall Paul put some fresh water on to boil. Karen laughed when he told her that Uncle Brandon was over at the drugstore drinking coffee with the Saturday morning gang.
Ben came into the kitchen as Karen was opening a tin of orange spice tea. Hungry as always he opened the cupboard to see what kind of cereal was available. Fresh milk was still a novelty for him after years of ultra-pasteurized box milk and he wasn't going to let any opportunity to have it get away from him.
The Browns chatted back and forth while fixing breakfast. Karen pulled out a skillet and began frying bacon and eggs. Paul put several slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster. When the toast was ready he set it out on the table along with some butter and homemade strawberry jam. While Karen was finishing up with the bacon and eggs, he went upstairs to wake Alex.
Alex did not remember much about the night before but she held on tightly to her daddy as he carried her down to breakfast. Sicillia, looking momentarily annoyed at the disturbance, soon curled up and was back asleep before they were half way down the stairs.
The Browns enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while they made plans for the day. Karen wanted to get to the bank and then do some shopping. Alex needed a warmer coat and she wanted to pick up a few things for the potluck at the church tomorrow. Paul mentioned that the Sykes' wanted to get together with them sometime during the day. He also needed to plug in his laptop and send out a few e-mails as well as work on his message for tomorrow morning.
“Dad,” Ben paused between mouthfuls of cornflakes, “What did Uncle Brandon and Mr.
Krankovich mean when they said they thought you should be the interim pastor?” “Well, Ben, it means they think that, as the only remaining ordained preacher in the
church, I should fill in as the pastor temporarily. At least until the church can find another pastor to replace Pastor Williams.”
“What if they don't find anybody else?” asked Alex.
“Don't worry. God already has the next pastor picked out. We just have to wait for Him to show us.”
“How will we know he's the right one?”
“God'll let us know. His Spirit will confirm the right choice in the hearts of His people, and to the man that He provides.”
The ringing phone interrupted their conversation. Paul and answered it as Karen and the kids finished their breakfast. It was Kevin Farnham. He wanted to know if it would be all right if he and Becca stopped by. Becca thought Karen and Alex might want to go shopping while the boys spent some time together. Karen nodded her approval while clearing the table when Paul asked her.
A few minutes later Paul hung up. “They'll be here in about an hour,” he told his wife. “That's fine,” she answered, “Gives me enough time to finish up in here and then get
Alex ready. Where's the checkbook?”
A few minutes later, Paul settled in with his laptop at the dining room table. Plugging in the modem he began composing an e-mail to go out to a number of his supporting churches and friends. He sketched out the previous day's events and the plans to make him interim pastor of the church. Concluding with a request for prayer and a promise to keep them informed, he added the appropriate addresses and hit the send button.
Shortly after that, Brandon got home from his Saturday morning coffee group. “You would not believe how fast news of Pastor William's death and the accident in Hinckley got around! It was the talk of the drugstore this morning. Everybody wanted to know about it. I didn't tell anyone who the two in the jag were though. Just said the police were investigating.
They couldn't believe that the car was stolen from Narsch Industries either. One guy works third shift as a security guard there. Said old man Narsch was still livid when he left about two in the morning.”
Paul let his uncle know that the Farnhams were on their way over and that the girls would be heading out shopping. Pausing, a thought occurred to him. “Hey! I've got an idea.
How would you like to drive back over to Hinckley and have a look around? Maybe we can find something that will give us a clue what Chattham and Chakal were up to.” “Great idea, Paul”
Ben piped up; “Can I go, too, Dad?”
It was nearly 12:30 when Kevin and Rebecca arrived. Karen, Becca, and Alex left shortly after they arrived so they could get to the bank on time. After they left, Paul asked Kevin if he wanted to head over to the accident site with them. Since the girls had taken the Farnham's new Jeep Cherokee the guys piled into the church van and headed off a few minutes later themselves.
Arriving at Hinckley Lake, Brandon turned off State Road onto West Drive. Heading past the official buzzard-spotting site, he slowed as he approached the overlook where the car had gone over the side. Several police vehicles, representing the Ohio State Patrol, Hinckley Township Police, and the Medina County Sheriff's Department were parked there along with two park ranger trucks.
Brandon pulled up alongside a couple of nondescript sedans with government plates on them and put the van in park. “Looks like we weren't the only ones who wanted to look around!”
One of the Hinckley police officers came up as they got out of the van. “Sorry folks,” he began, “This area is closed—.”
He was cut off by a nearby park ranger who had been there yesterday. “Its okay, Charlie! These are the guys who reported the accident. Let them through.” He pointed down the hill at two men wearing black jackets with “FBI” in big, bold yellow letters emblazoned on their backs. “Smith and Jones down there will want to see them.”
“Mind if we look around while we wait?” asked Paul.
“No, not as long as you stay up here and behind the tape,” answered the officer.
Ben walked over to the caution tape and stood watching the activity below. His dad and Kevin Farnham walked a short way up the road and then turned around as Paul described the accident in detail. Brandon, meanwhile, studied the tire tracts and skid marks intently, calculating in his head distances and speeds. The fact that two men died here without Christ yesterday sobered his mood as he replayed the crash in his mind.
“Dad! Uncle Brandon!” shouted Ben; “They found an umbrella!”
The men hurried over to Ben and looked over the edge. One of the FBI agents was holding a bent umbrella carefully while looking at the tip. He showed it to his partner and then started up the steep slope with it.
Arriving at the top he paused and looked at Brandon closely. “Brandon? Brandon Hayes?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Josh McKay! Remember, Quantico, 1978?”
Brandon racked his brain for a minute. “Marine attaché, right?
“Right, right!” said McKay. “Been a few years. Say, I was sure surprised to see your name come up in connection with this case. Guess I shouldn't have been,” he chuckled. “Who's your friends here?”
“This is my nephew, Paul Brown, and his son, Benjamin. That there's Kevin Farnham. He wasn't with us yesterday.”
“Well, its sure good to see you again! Say, I read the police report but its always better to hear it first hand.”
Over the next several minutes Brandon and Paul took turns relating the events leading up to the fatal crash. Agent McKay interrupted occasionally with a few pertinent questions. Holding up the umbrella that he retrieved from the crash site when they finished he asked, “Does this look like the umbrella you saw at the airport?”
“Yeah,” said Paul, “The thin man, Chakal, stumbled on his bad knee and accidentally hit Pastor Williams with the end of it, or so he claimed. Come to think of it, if I hadn't tried to keep the bags from falling he would have got me instead.”
McKay examined the end of the umbrella while Paul was talking. Noticing a hole in the tip turned it back and forth a few times when all of a sudden the hidden hypodermic needle snapped out. He looked thoughtfully at it for a moment and then turned to Paul, “Is there any reason to suspect that someone would want to kill you?”
An hour or so later they were headed back to Wildwood. Agent McKay had promised to let them know what the tests on the umbrella needle turned up. “You know, Paul,” began Brandon, “I think McKay is right. I think you were the real target, not Pastor Williams.”
“I'd say that sounds crazy, Uncle Brandon, except it explains a lot. It would explain why they were following us.”
“And why Chakal said you were the one who was supposed to die yesterday instead of himself.”
“But why would any one want to kill Paul?” asked Kevin, “Especially at the airport, assuming that Chakal was actually trying to stick him with that umbrella.”
“That is the all-important question,” answered Brandon, “But I am beginning to think it might help clear up several other mysterious deaths and strange events over the years.”
Arriving back at Brandon's house the men went inside. The ladies were not back yet so they decided to head on over to the church for a few minutes. Brandon felt kind of guilty about missing visitation that afternoon but Chuck Krankovich had assured him that he and Willy Sykes could handle visitation without him today. Knowing that the Bartletts would not be there either didn't help. The least he could do was to help with some of the cleaning and setting up tables. Besides, he knew that his nephew was anxious to get over to the church as well.
Kevin called his wife before they left and told her to meet them at the church. They were between stores and had just stopped for a snack along the way. Alex, she said, was just fascinated with the self-serve soda fountains. Once she figured out how to use it she insisted on filling everyone else's cup as well.
Wildwood Baptist Church was located just off Center Road on Cleveland-Akron Road, “CAK” Road to the locals, in what amounted to a second, smaller town center. It was about a mile and a half from Brandon's house to the church and he often walked there when the weather was nice. Today, however, Brandon wanted to pick up his car before they headed over to the Style's house for supper.
Apparently the two town centers had enjoyed a friendly rivalry during Wildwood's early days. Both had boasted their own post offices, general stores, churches, barber shops, and stage stops. Over the years, the post offices had consolidated in the west center along with most of the churches, the town hall, and the library. The Baptist church, along with the old East Center Stage Stop, now restored as a restaurant, travel center, and truck stop, a small park surrounding a Civil War memorial, and several stately old homes were all that remained of the east center's former glory.
The original Baptist church had sat on the Civil War memorial site but it was torched by anti-abolitionists in 1859 and burned to the ground. Several fugitive slaves fleeing to Canada along the Underground Railway were rumored to have died in the flames. The community rallied to rebuild the church house just south of the original building in the area of Wildwood's front parking lot the following year. Several years later, at the close of the Civil War, the church donated the site of the original building to the town for a memorial park.
The church itself was located on nearly seventeen acres of mostly wooded land just south of the Civil War memorial. A large parking lot with two entrances fronted CAK Road. Wrapping around the south side of the building, the parking lot opened up behind the church. A third smaller drive running alongside the memorial provided access to Center Road from the back lot.
Brandon turned off Center and pulled into the back parking lot. A border of peonies was springing up along both sides of the driveway but would not be in bloom for a couple more weeks. Masses of irises and other spring flowers, along with several slightly overgrown shrubs just past their earlier springtime prime, splashed a variety of bright colors in glorious profusion about the memorial park. A somber gray-brown granite boulder stood silent vigil in the midst of the floral gaiety, its polished sides a mute testimony to the sons of Wildwood that had served and died in the War Between the States.
As they approached the church they could see the Bartlett's van over by the parsonage at the far side of the parking lot. Several other vehicles, including Willie Sykes' car, were parked at the back of the church along with a white minivan with out-of-state plates on it. As they drew closer they could see the Georgia peach on the plates and a bumper sticker on the back that boldly proclaimed, “WARNING: DRIVER OF VEHICLE SUBJECT TO SUDDEN DISAPEARANCE DUE TO RAPTURE (1 THESS. 4:16-17)!”
Brandon looked at the minivan. “With everything that's been going on, I forgot Dr. Minger and his family were coming in today. He has a few meetings in the area and will be staying in one of our prophet's chambers with his family. He did our fall revival last year. Even baked a cheesecake for our potluck dinner.”
“Dr. Minger?” questioned Paul. “I'm not sure I know him.”
“He's a friend of Dr. Muriel.”
“Down in Akron?”
“Yeah. Dr. Muriel's the pastor at Wooster Road Baptist. He had Dr. Minger in for a revival meeting about a year and a half ago. Pastor Williams liked him so much that he lined him up for all fall revival. He's scheduled to be with us again this fall. You'll like him. He's ex-military as well.”
Brandon parked behind the church and they headed into the building. The back part of the building was newer and nearly twice the size of the front. The front had been built in 1960, replacing the old building that had once stood where the front parking lot now was. In 1978 the church built a second, larger auditorium, along with expanded Sunday school and office space behind the church building. A large, glassed in foyer connected the two buildings.
Farnham Contracting, owned and operated at the time by Kevin Farnham's father, had designed and built both buildings along the same New England architectural style common to Ohio's Western Reserve. Now owner and operator of Farnham Contracting himself, Kevin remembered working on the newer building as a teenager.
Due to the slope of the hill, the door actually entered into the basement, which served as a large fellowship hall. A well-equipped kitchen, several classrooms, a storage room, and a utility room filled out the remainder of the basement. A short hallway connected to the older building's basement. That section housed several more classrooms, another utility room, and a large, walk-in missions closet stocked with a variety of items for visiting missionaries and evangelists.
Mrs. Krankovich and her good friend, Jean Davidson, were busy in the kitchen when the guys walked in. “Oh, hello!” they said looking up from their work, “We didn't hear you come in.
Mrs. Davidson hurried from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. “It was just so terrible to hear about poor Pastor Williams! Just terrible! Poor Janet is absolutely broken up over it... My, my, who is this handsome young man?” she asked, embarrassing Ben.
“It is so good to see you folks again!” continued Mrs. Davidson, “Where is Karen and your daughter? I'll bet she's turning into a pretty young lady. Oh, I am so sorry. We had planned to have a reception for you and your family here last night but, under the circumstances...”
“Good to see you again, Mrs. Davidson. How's your husband doing?” said Paul as Ben ducked his head, blushing slightly.
They chatted in the kitchen while Mrs. Krankovich got some coffee for the men and a glass of milk for Ben. Mrs. Davidson, alternating back and forth between asking about the Browns and Tunoa and commenting on yesterday's tragic events, fixed some sandwiches for them. “Can't have you missing lunch!” she said.
They had no sooner bowed their heads to say grace when they were interrupted by Willie Sykes and Dr. Minger clumping down the steps behind them. They had become good friends over the past year or so. Sykes was a short, wiry young man, still in his late 20's, a bundle of nervous energy. Dr. Minger was surprisingly young as well, only about five years older than Sykes. He was of a much calmer nature and nearly a foot and a half taller.
Spotting the men in the kitchen, Sykes rushed in to greet them. Dr. Minger stood quietly in the hall while Sykes talked excitedly with the others. A moment later, Sykes remembered that he was there and motioned for him to come in. “Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Minger! I almost forgot about you! Come in, come in! Let me introduce you! You know Mrs. Davidson, Mrs. Krankovich, and Brother Hayes, of course.” Gesturing toward Paul, he continued, “And this is Brother Paul Brown. He's a missionary to Tunoa out of the church here. That's his son, Benjamin back there. And this other guy is Kevin Farnham. His dad helped build this building. Pray for him, he needs to get back in church, ha, ha!
Dr. Minger shook hands as he was introduced around. “Name's Sam,” he said, “My wife and kids are getting settled in one of the prophet chambers upstairs. We have some meetings in the area and will be staying here for the next two weeks. Pastor Williams graciously allowed us—,” He stopped himself quickly. “I'm sorry...” he began as Mrs. Davidson wiped a tear from her eye.
“That's alright,” said Brandon, “Its been hard on all of us today. Anything we can help you bring in?”
“No, we brought everything in upstairs before moving the car around back. We were just coming down to see what we can do to help.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Krankovich, reaching for another loaf of bread and some lunchmeat, “You can start by having your family come down for some sandwiches. And you,” fixing her gaze on Willie Sykes, “Can run over to the parsonage and tell the Brother Bartlett and Pastor John to come over for a bite to eat as well.”
Karen and Alex came in with Rebecca Farnham while Dr. Minger was heading back up the stairs. They met Sykes on his way out and headed into the kitchen with the others. Mrs. Davidson fussed over how big “little Alexandria” had grown and how much she looked like her mother.
A few minutes later the Minger family came downstairs. Dr. Minger introduced his wife, Carla, and his three children to the Browns and Farnhams. The oldest, Serena was the same age as Ben. Matt was two years younger and Lizzy, short for Elizabeth, was the same age as Alex.
Dr. Minger had brought down one of his prayer cards, which he handed to Paul. It had a picture of the Mingers on the front. Bold, block letters proclaimed, “I. Sam Minger Ministries”. Their motto, “Helping the local church keep the Gospel Light burning bright!” ran along the bottom of the card.
“What's the 'I' stand for?”
“Ichabod,” laughed Mrs. Minger.
“I see why he goes with Sam, especially with being an evangelist,” Paul joked back.
Bill Bartlett and Pastor John Williams, Jr., arrived a few minutes later as Mrs. Davidson and Mrs. Krankovich finished putting together a platter of sandwiches. After greeting everyone, Pastor John asked the Lord's blessing over the food and the group dug in hungrily. Karen and Becca, who had eaten earlier, refused anything to eat but took the coffee that was offered to them. Alex managed to find room for another sandwich, however.
Pastor John informed them that the funeral was being planned for Friday in order to give the coroner's office time to finish its investigations. His sister, Julie Morgan, and her family would be driving in on Monday from Maryland. Her husband, Daniel, was pastor of the Maranatha Baptist Church in Wapetiton. Since he had a wedding today and a baby dedication tomorrow they were not able to come right away. Also, an anonymous donor in their church had provided the money to fly his other sister, Jackie Martino and her daughter, Shawna, up from Samoa.
“Assuming they can get on the Sunday night flight they should make it in time for the funeral, too. My brother, George, is unfortunately not able to leave Albania right now so he won't be here.”
They finished eating and the ladies began cleaning up and finishing preparations for tomorrow's dinner. Meanwhile, the men began setting up tables and chairs in the fellowship hall. The kids pitched in as well but after awhile Paul and Dr. Minger gave them permission to play. They scampered off happily to explore the building together while the men began to talk about Pastor William's death and the incident with the two Global Liberation Front guys, Chakal and Chattham.
Brandon also brought up the need to appoint an interim pastor and set up a pulpit committee. “Although our church constitution isn't real clear on it, Brother Krankovich and I thought that Paul here would be our most logical choice for interim pastor.”
“I would agree with that,” said Pastor John. “From what I remember, it would have been me if I were still the associate pastor. However, after I left last summer Dad never got around to appointing another associate. Since Brother Brown is now the only ordained pastor in the church I think that would honor the intent of the constitution.”
“That's what we thought,” agreed Brandon. “We thought we would announce it that way tomorrow morning and tell the folks that we would vote on it next week at our May business meeting, just to make it official—.”
A loud crash and the sound of breaking glass upstairs suddenly interrupted their discussion. Racing upstairs they found the kids looking at a large black crow lying stunned and bleeding in the midst of a sea of shattered glass. Serena was helping her sister up who had been standing by the widow when the bird crashed through the glass. Lizzie was crying and holding her left arm gingerly. It bled profusely where she had been struck by flying glass.
Karen, who had followed closely behind, quickly ran over to the little girl. Her dad was already there when she came up behind him. “I'm a nurse,” she said, “Do you want me to look at her arm?” Sam looked at his wife who had just come up the stairs and into the lobby. Looking back at Karen, he nodded.
Brandon headed to the church office where he retrieved a first aid kit. Looking closely, Karen found a jagged piece of glass sticking out of her forearm. “You are a fortunate young lady.” Turning to Dr. and Mrs. Minger, she continued, “Another quarter inch to the left the main artery would have been severed.”
Karen gently removed the glass with a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and carefully cleaned the wound. She applied a sterile gauze pad and pressed lightly yet firmly for a few moments until the bleeding stopped. “I don't think she'll need stitches but you should have somebody look at it. When was the last time she had a tetanus booster?”
“There's an urgent care center in Fairlawn,” volunteered Sykes, “I can run them down. I'll bring my car around so she doesn't have to go down the stairs.”
While Karen took care of Lizzy, Paul and Ben managed to get a towel from the nearby nursery over the bird. Surprisingly enough, it was still alive and began to struggle as Paul carried it outside. Setting it down in the parking lot away from the building he stepped back with his son as the bird struggled to its feet and shook off the towel. It stood there blinking at them for a moment before taking a few wobbly steps. Then, with a quick shake of its head, it flapped its wings a couple of times and took off.
“CAW, CAW! CAW, CAW!” rasped the bird loudly as it gained height, circled the church, and headed off to the southwest.
Paul and Ben joined the others inside the atrium, which connected the two buildings together. The north and south walls, which were predominantly glass, along with the large skylights above gave the room an open, airy feel. Several small palms and tropical plants clustered in corner planters, added to the effect.
A large map of the world surrounded by missionary prayer letters and cards graced the east wall, just to the right of double doors leading into the old building. When switched on, a multitude of red and green lights lit up the map representing the church's missions involvement around the world. Red lights represented church planting projects while green showed church helps and growth ministries. A single gold bulb in Ohio, midway between Akron and Cleveland, represented Wildwood Baptist Church.
Another set of double doors on the opposite wall opened into a broad hallway that led to the main auditorium. The smaller sanctuary in the older building was used primarily for junior church and other activities. Two other doors, on opposite sides of the main hallway provided access to the two prophet's chambers from the atrium. The Mingers were staying in the far apartment while the second was being readied for Pastor John's sister, Julie, and her family.
Willie Sykes got into the car with Lizzie and her dad. Mrs. Minger reluctantly agreed to stay behind with the others rather than leave her other two children behind. She gave Lizzie a kiss and said she would meet them over at the Sykes house later on.
Suddenly remembering the evening'