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“Noah,” she said, pulling back. “If the paint dries on the roller …”
“I’ll get you a new roller tomorrow,” he said. He crouched and looked deeply into Lucy’s eyes. “You stay here. Take a nap. No painting.” Then he pulled Ellie out of the side door of the church. “If you’re right, and it sounds like you are, he wants you back. Ellie, do you think he cares about your kids? Do you think he wants them, on any level?”
“The kids annoy him. He doesn’t do things with them, like play or read or anything. He wants them quiet, neat, invisible. All kids annoy him. Really, he’s the last person who should be the principal of an elementary school….”
“Private school, you said.”
“Yeah, private. More money there, he said.”
Noah’s brain was working. Maybe a small private school wasn’t so picky about things like credentials, and past work problems. Noah wondered what Arnie’s employment history would reveal. “He’s punishing you, Ellie. Don’t buckle. Let’s go get your kids.”
“What are you going to do?” she wanted to know.
“I’m going to do to him what you did to Nick Fitch— but I’m going to do it in a pure ministerial, manipulative and threatening kind of way.” He grinned. “We’ll have to take your car so we have room for the kids. I’ll drive. Now, where are we going?”
Noah pulled into a neighborhood in Redway, just north of Garberville. The houses were a lot alike in shape and size, but were painted a variety of colors. Most had two stories with dormer windows, porches, detached garages and front walks. Some boasted pampered lawns and summer flowers, some weren’t quite so well loved. They were all what Noah would consider small—maybe three bedrooms, as well as attics and basements. They were all nestled into tall trees.
Noah drove very slowly because kids were playing in the street. There were a few riding their bikes around in circles while a group in the center appeared to be playing kickball. A couple of parents were busy with the usual Saturday chores—cutting the lawn, digging in the garden, washing the car.
“It’s that house,” she said, pointing. “There’s a black SUV in the driveway.”
“Are your kids out here?” he asked. As he drove slowly down the street, the legion of kids separated to let his car pass.
“No. Arnie doesn’t let them play outside unsupervised. And he doesn’t have time to supervise, so they never had a chance to make friends.”
“Do you have any idea what I should expect?” Noah asked.
She took a breath. “He’s a chameleon, Noah. He fooled me for quite a while. The school secretary worships him, she thinks he’s a kind, devout man, who’s strict and doesn’t put up with bad behavior, but he’s beyond strict. He can be nice when it suits him. His favorite saying is, ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick.’ His other favorite is, ‘Children should be seen and not heard.’ By now the neighbors hate him because he’s antisocial and wouldn’t allow the kids to interact with their kids. He’ll probably be very nice to you, but don’t fall for it.”
Like that’s new to me, Noah thought. A lot of people treated him with deference and extreme politeness when they’d prefer not to talk to him at all. They were talking to the minister, not the man. Not only that, but his father had been that kind of man—a charmer at church and a demon at home. That experience gave him an edge—he knew exactly what he would be dealing with.
“If there’s no TV in the house, what’s he doing in there?”
“He’s on his laptop all the time. All the time. He carries it around with him. When I got too close and might see what he was doing, he’d close it. My babysitter, from the duplex? She said he might be playing games. You know—real complicated games that have other people online from all over the place? Or maybe he’s looking at dirty pictures. Lord, I have no idea. But that’s what keeps him busy all the time.”
“Interesting,” Noah said. “I’m on my laptop a lot, too. But you can read over my shoulder anytime and just get bored to death.” He pulled alongside the curb at the front walk. “Do me a favor and stay in the car, for right now at least.”
“Why?” she asked, already out of her seat belt.
“Because I’m going to give him a chance to preserve his manhood, which will be hard for him to do in front of you. Let me try reasoning with him.”
“Oh, you better watch out.”
“I’m not a naive goody-goody, Ellie. Ministers deal with more dysfunctional people than strippers do, believe me.”
“I bet you’re right,” she agreed.
“Stay in the car and don’t ruin my show.” And with that, he got out and strode purposefully up the walk.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that his knock was not answered. He rang the bell, he knocked again, he rang and knocked and hoped it was becoming increasingly obvious that he wasn’t going to stop. Finally the door opened and the man standing there looked completely composed and not in the least ruffled. Ellie hadn’t mentioned he was a big, ugly guy. Oh, man, how Arnie must have lusted after Ellie! This was not a guy who had a long line of women waiting to hook up with him.
Arnie smiled without showing any teeth and there was a slight tic in his jaw.
“Arnie Gunterson?” Noah asked, putting out his hand.
“Arnold Gunterson,” he said. “Normally when people don’t answer the door, they’re either not at home or not interested in company.”
“I’m Reverend Noah Kincaid, and I knew you were home because your car’s in the driveway,” he said, his hand still out.
Arnie burst out laughing, but there was not an ounce of humor in his eyes. “Reverend?” he asked, looking Noah up and down. So what if he was wearing worn jeans and a plaid flannel shirt over a waffled, gray, long-sleeved T-shirt? “Reverend of what? The church of hope and BS?”
Noah tried to ignore him, though it did briefly cross his mind to get that haircut and some of what he always called “town clothes.” “Forgive me for being so determined, but it is imperative I speak with you before calling the police department,” Noah said.
“Why would you go to the police? Is it against the law not to answer the door?”
Noah finally pulled back his hand. Arnie was six feet or so and broad shouldered, but he was thick around the middle. He looked about forty years old and had an awful big head. His light brown hair was going thin, but it was neatly combed back from a long, wide forehead. His face was slightly flushed, suggesting he had high blood pressure or had been holding in some anger. Noah glanced at the hands that hung at Arnie’s sides; they were loose and relaxed. “Not at all, Mr. Gunterson. It’s against the law to defy a court-ordered visitation agreement. Miss Baldwin is in my car. She’s my employee, she works for the Virgin River Presbyterian Church now. And while she was willing to let the matter go, I thought it was important for her to see her children, and I insisted on stepping in.”
“You shouldn’t have. The situation is under control.”
Noah laughed indulgently. “Unfortunately, that’s not true,” he said. “She needs to see the kids and, from what she told me about her attempt to pick them up this morning, they need to see her. I am sure we can work it out. If we talked about it.”
Arnie’s eyebrows came together in a frown. “Is that what you thought? Well, the kids are having time-out. We had talked about how they would behave if they wanted a special day with their mother. No crying, yelling, complaining or throwing fits. No begging. They haven’t been with me very long, so acting appropriately is new to them. Their mother never bothered to discipline them. Or take care of them at all, for that matter. I’m sure they’ll be on their good behavior by next weekend, but I thank you for your concern.” He backed into the house and attempted to close the door in Noah’s face.
But Noah’s hand came out fast, hitting the door and preventing it from closing. “But see, that’s not in the court orders—concessions, loopholes and time-outs. I have a copy if you’ve lost yours,” he lied. “You have custody for ninety days until the judge revisits the issue, and your ex-wife has a visit every Saturday from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. It’s a legal document, Mr. Gunterson. At the very least, I’ll get us an escort from the police or sheriff’s department. But if we have to haggle over this more than five more minutes, I’ll get help from the police. And I’ll be in court Monday morning with Miss Baldwin and an attorney. Because you can’t do this to her or the children. It’s cruel. We have to work it out. Or fight it out.”
Arnie smiled meanly. “Well now. I guess she’s got you under her spell.”
Noah returned the smile and met his eyes. Noah was determined to set a good example by his behavior, but nothing would have felt better than dragging this son of a bitch out of the house and beating the crap out of him. I could wipe the floor with him; he’s totally out of shape, Noah thought. He’s just a big fat bully. Yet all Noah said was, “Entirely.”
Arnie chuckled. “You’re going to pay for that. See, Ellie has a very strong tendency to stretch the truth. She’s not usually honest with the facts. Believing what she says usually carries a big price. You just have no idea.”
If there was one thing Noah had figured out in only a couple of days, Ellie was painfully honest. She could have come up with much more flattering tales about her predicament than she had. “I’ll probably pay a visit to the judge anyway, just to assure him that Miss Baldwin has herself a good job with the local church, has a nice little apartment right on the same street for very affordable rent and has already collected some well-respected friends around town. I might let that go another week or two, depending. You could sweeten the pot by letting the kids pack an overnight bag.” Noah glowered at Arnie meaningfully. “Since they missed most of the day with their mom, and all. Mr. Gunterson, knowing how decent and fair-minded you are, wouldn’t that be a generous gesture on your part? The judge would have a hard time believing you’re just a cruel, vindictive bastard if you did something nice like that.” And then Noah smiled. Meanly.
Arnie was speechless for a moment. “You really don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you?”
Noah let out his breath slowly. Unfortunately he did. He grew up with one of them. “I just thought we’d both be happiest if we negotiated. Met each other halfway. Because if we go head-to-head, physically or legally, I’m going to win. Trust me. Now—give the kids a break here.”
“If I do that, it’ll take me all week to get ‘em back into shape.”
Noah pushed the door open a little more, pushing it against Arnie. “Watch that, Arnold,” he threatened. “You’re already on thin ice here. You’re not going to get away with anything. You treat those kids harshly and it’s going to come back on you so hard, you’ll never forget it.”
“Like it’s my fault they haven’t been raised right?”
“I said, go real easy on them. And I mean it.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked coolly, totally unafraid.
“You’re damn straight. Now, get the kids. I’m getting tired of trying so hard with you.”
Arnie seemed to think about this. Then he said, “You sure you’re a preacher?”
“Complete with two master’s degrees, a ton of money and a load of local influence.” He faced him down squarely. Noah was just a hair taller than Arnie, but his arms and shoulders were strong, his neck thick, his chest hard, and while Arnie had that generous spare tire, Noah had a six-pack. He looked Arnie in the eyes easily. And there was only one, maybe two lies in what he had said, and he considered them small ones. His money did not amount to a lot after spending on the church, and he thought maybe his influence went as far as the local bartender. Period. But what the heck. These were innocent children. And no matter what Ellie had done for a living, this bastard was bad. Yet there was nothing about Ellie that was bad. Just nothing.
Noah’s little secret was—he had a bit of a temper. It didn’t take all that much to push his buttons—especially over matters of injustice. He’d been trying real hard to be one of those turn-the-other-cheek kind of guys, but it wasn’t going that well. Injustice like this ranked right up there as something that made him fighting mad. And he was damn sure going to research Arnold a little further.
“Stay out here,” Arnie said. “I’ll get the kids ready. And don’t ever pull this again or you’ll be sorry.”
Noah wanted to slap back many retorts and threats. But he said nothing. He stood. And stood. And stood. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Ellie, waiting impatiently in the car, confusion and anxiety all over her face. It was a good ten minutes before the door opened again.
Arnie appeared alone in the doorway. He looked behind him and said, “Stay! I said stay!” as if the kids were dogs in training. Then to Noah he said, “She can keep them overnight if she’ll get them back by four tomorrow afternoon.”
“We can do that. I’ll make sure of it. And I’ll come along to bring them home, just so we’re sure we’re all on the same page here.” From the look on Arnie’s face it was pretty clear that he understood the subtext of Noah’s comments.
“So, you’re sleeping with her?” Arnie asked.
Noah was momentarily stunned. “Did you seriously ask me that?” he said, shocked. He shook his head and laughed unhappily. “You know, she’s my employee. People can respect and help each other without there being a sexual agenda. Did you know that?”
“Not with Ellie,” he said. “She’s a tramp.”
Noah ground his teeth, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. He was seconds away from the happiest moment of his life, when he broke this guy’s nose. But there was a miracle. He didn’t move at all, and simply said, “Let the kids go to their mother now.”
Arnie stepped back, gave his head a nod and let the kids past. “Mind your manners,” he called after them, and his voice was controlled, civil, as though he meant well. It made Noah’s head spin. It was just as Ellie had said, this guy had two sides—both of them creepy.
The children each carried small backpacks for overnight, and they tried to walk slowly, until they were halfway to the car, until Ellie’s door came open, and then they lost control and broke into a run. Ellie fell to her knees and they flung themselves into her arms.
There was so much kissing and hugging and crying, it made Noah nervous. He saw that Arnie watched for a moment, then closed the door. He heard the dead bolt slide. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Noah said, trying to shepherd them into the car. “Kids in the back, seat belts, come on, let’s go.”
“In the car, kids,” Ellie said. “This is Reverend Kincaid, my new boss. This is Danielle and Trevor.”
“Noah,” he said. “Just call me Noah. Come on, let’s get outta here, huh?”
When he was behind the wheel, his brain went into overdrive. Would Arnie call the police and insist the kids had been kidnapped by a small-town preacher? Would they suffer even more when they were returned because Arnie felt he had lost ground? What could happen to these kids a few weeks down the road? Was there any way to assure their safety? How would Ellie survive if something happened to them and she felt it was her fault?
Noah listened as Ellie and the kids discussed the situation. “He said we were good enough today so we could spend the night. But we have to be back by four.”
“Did he?” Ellie asked Noah. “Did he say they could stay over?”
“He said we have to mind our manners and behave if we ever want another visit. Mommy, I have been doing my manners,” Danielle said. “I’ve been doing my please and thank-yous, I’ve been keeping Trevor from crying at night.”
Noah thought furiously, that son of a bitch let them think they had earned their visit by being “good.”
“Oh, baby,” Ellie said, tears in her voice. “Trevor, have you been scared?”
He nodded piteously and reached for his mother, the seat belt holding him in place.
“It’s okay, Trev—you’re very brave,” she told him, holding his hand. “Did you bring your books?”
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