Before going to bed, I spent a long time in prayer, knowing I’d need all the strength and wisdom I could get for the next day.
After a restless night, I awoke Sunday morning feeling like I had a plane full of luggage under my eyes. I showered and got dressed for church, then peddled on over.
Chief Harmon didn’t waste any time in taking down Chuck’s statement after we arrived. He wasn’t sure what could be done with the information, but he could at least use it to start building some sort of case. I suggested he call Paul Unruh to see if he could help them figure out how they could get a group together to sue the Club leaders for discrimination if nothing else.
With a determined look on his face, Miguel set out to find Eddie. He didn’t have to go far because Eddie strolled through the door as we entered the front of the shop.
“Sit,” barked Miguel as he pointed to a table near us. He hadn’t asked me to leave, so I took a seat, too. Eddie looked confused.
After a restless night I got up and headed for Main Street to meet Stephen, with an hour to spare before the police arrived at the Happy Mouth. After chaining my bike at the bike rack outside, I found my old friend at our usual booth reading this week’s Kingsburg News. I slid into the seat across from him and couldn’t help feeling we’d gone full circle
It would be getting dark soon, so I peddled on home, feeling much deflated since this morning. The day had started with a killer in jail and things looking up. Now I was just about out of a job at the church and minus a killer to boot.
Not sure where to go next, I sat on my bike for several minutes thinking. Since the ice cream was most likely to have contained the poison, we had to figure out who’d had the chance to put something in it. I got off my bike, leaned it up against a pole, and pulled out my cell phone. It was time to call in a favor.
It was only one block from the Happy Mouth to the offices of the Kingsbury News. I locked my bike in the rack out front and went in. Our receptionist, Mary Miller, Bill’s daughter, was on the phone and waved as I went past.
I sat in silence for several minutes after Chief Harmon left. Inside of me was a battle between excitement and anxiety. I was thrilled that I had been given the chance to talk to the chief, yet a little shaken by his warning—not that I intended to let it stop me.
Tuesday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The world was no longer on my shoulders and I felt great. I began my day as I had forgotten to do of late, in prayer and devotions. When it came time to head for the church I was ready and whistling an old Nat King Cole tune called Smile.
After Henry’s visit, I tried to work on my sermon, but the renewed excitement hadn’t translated to the written page. The pile of crumpled paper in the wastebasket was a sign of my frustration. At about five, I gave up, hopped on my bike, and headed for my apartment.
