Read Online Raising Cain by Gallatin Warfield - Free Book Online

I’ve done nothing wrong.”
    Davis began to speak but held back.
    “I am in solitude most of the time anyway,” Ruth continued. “I’m not sure
who
I could get to give me an, uh, alibi.”
    Davis made a note. The word
alibi
sounded strange coming from a preacher.
    “Did you leave the quarry at any time that day?”
    “Which day?”
    “September twentieth.”
    “I don’t remember. I go outside a lot but can’t say for sure if I did then.”
    “Do you keep a diary, a log of your schedule?”
    “No. The Bible is my only schedule.”
    “Under the circumstances, I
do
need to interview some of your people.”
    “I cannot allow you to do that. My lambs are here to escape the evils of the world, and it’s my job to protect them.”
    “It could only
help
you to permit it.”
    “The word of the Lord is sufficient unto itself. I have done
nothing
wrong.”
    “But it’s not the Lord’s word I’m questioning. It’s
yours
.”
    Ruth pressed his hands to his temples. “Forgive him, Lord.”
    Davis decided to move on. He walked over to several vehicles on the lot. “Which one do you drive?”
    Ruth pointed to a late-model Lincoln Continental.
    “Mind giving me your car phone number?”
    “It’s 775-2828.”
    “What cellular company do you use?”
    “Mountain Bell.”
    Just then a bearded man ran up the street, dressed in a linen robe and sandals. “What’s going on?” he asked, eyeing the uniform.
    Ruth tried to take him aside, but he resisted.
    “What’s your name, sir?” Davis asked.
    “What’s going on?” the man persisted.
    “I’ll handle this,” Ruth told him. “Go back to your cabin.”
    “What’s your name, sir?” Davis repeated.
    “Your cabin!” Ruth ordered.
    The man turned and began to leave.
    “Wait a minute, sir!” Davis called, moving to catch him.
    Ruth grabbed the officer’s arm. “Stop.”
    Davis halted and looked at his arm. Ruth had it in a death grip. “Let go, Mr. Ruth!” He reached for his holster.
    Ruth released him and stepped back, but the intruder was gone. “You just made a
mistake
,” Davis said coldly.
    “I don’t think so.” Ruth’s eyes looked like they could cut steel. “Get off this property and get off
now.
“
    Davis took a step backward. The guy was about to lose it.
    Ruth put his hands to his head again. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord!”
    Davis unsnapped his weapon and backed to his car. He opened the door and got in.
    Ruth had not moved. “And the unrighteous shall perish!”
    Davis watched for a moment as he started the engine. “I’ll see
you
later,” he said. Then he peeled out in a cloud of yellow dust and raced toward the gate.
    Joseph Brown’s funeral had just begun at the Blocktown AME Church. A traditional sect, its members were men and women of Joseph
     and Althea’s generation too set in their ways to switch allegiance to Reverend Taylor. The small clapboard building was packed
     with mourners, and the overflow—townspeople, relatives, and a hefty contingent of cops—thronged the yard, listening to the
     service on loudspeakers. They’d all loved the old man.
    Inside the main hall it was unbearably hot. There was no air-conditioning, and the crowd fanned themselves with programs and
     hymnals as Reverend Boyd prepared to send Joseph into the heavens.
    “We haven’t come here for a funeral,” the white-haired preacher said. “This is a celebration.”
    “Yes, sir,” a voice hollered from the balcony.
    “The joyous celebration of a man’s life…”
    “That’s right!” another voice replied.
    “Brother Joseph lived a good man, and he died a good man!”
    “Amen!”
    Gardner and Jennifer sat in the second row. Ahead were Brownie and his long-lost brother. Dour and sullen, they flanked their
     mother like ebony columns. Althea sobbed intermittently into a handkerchief, and the sons alternated comforting her. She was
     the no-fly zone in their silent war, and it showed.
    Gardner tried to swallow but couldn’t.