The Road to Mercy (29 page)

“What do you mean?” Josh sat on the sofa across the aisle.

“I put the cash in my bunk bag last night, like I always do. But for some reason, I couldn’t get it off my mind. Even though it had already been counted and reconciled, I rechecked it this morning, and it’s more than a thousand dollars short—$1,326 to be exact.”

“Are you certain it was all there last night?” Josh asked, staring into his road manager’s frosty blue eyes.

“Absolutely. I counted it four times. Twice last night and twice again this morning.”

Josh repositioned himself in his seat. “What do you think happened?”

“I don’t want to accuse people, but it’s obvious,” Ryan said. “Someone on the bus stole it.”

Uncertain how he should respond, Josh hesitated, running his fingers through his hair as he thought about Ryan’s accusations. Why should he trust the man he believed to be a thief?
Was this a preemptive strike?
A clever move on Ryan’s part?

“Do you understand what you’re saying?” Josh could feel his blood pressure rise. “You’re accusing one of the men on this bus of stealing.”

“I realize that, but there’s no other explanation.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“This is going to be hard for you, because I know how close you are to him. But I saw Danny messing around near my bunk last night.”

“His bunk is next to yours.”

“Yes, but he had a funny look on his face, when I walked in unexpectedly. I didn’t think much about it until I found the money missing this morning.”

“Is that the reason you recounted it?”

“It was. I know you don’t want to believe that he—”

“No one is guilty until they are proven guilty. Do you understand?” Josh stood up. The brusqueness of his voice surprised even him.

Ryan sat back in his seat. “Yes, sir.”

Sir?
Ryan had never called him sir.

“Look,” Josh said, poking an accusing finger at the man he believed was really stealing from him. “Keep this between you and me. Do you understand?”

“Okay, but—” Ryan shook his head.

“No one.” Josh reached for the button that opened the pocket door. “There will be no false accusations on this bus. You bring me proof, or you bring me the missing money.”

He walked into the bunkroom and punched the button on the wall beside Danny’s bunk. The bunkroom door closed with a thud, not unlike the ache that now pounded inside his head.

Josh had been uneasy for two days, dreading the television interview he had committed to do to promote this evening’s show. He smoothed his shirt, moistened his lips, and listened to the producer count down.

“And four, three, two . . .”

“Welcome back.” The pretty, blonde anchor spoke directly into camera one. “We have a special guest this afternoon. Contemporary Christian entertainer Josh Harrison is with us.”

She turned to him. “We’re glad to have you, Josh.”

“Thank you.” He took in a deep breath, while pinching the loose skin between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Someone had told him once that it would help ease nerves. It didn’t.

The reporter flashed a smile. “Is it correct to use the term
entertainers
for Christian musicians?”

He had never been asked that question. “Sure. Our goal is to entertain people, as well as to spread the message of the gospel.”

“You’re in town to perform at the civic center tonight, correct?”

“Yes. I’m opening for the Triumphant Two Tour, and I’m honored to be here.”

She glanced at her notes. “You’re opening for R. O. S. and Fast Train to Glory. Is that correct?”

“Yes, they’re our headliners. There are five acts on the show all together. I’ve been blessed to be a part of this tour for about a year now, and I can tell you . . .” He took another breath. “These groups represent some of the best talent to ever walk onstage, no matter what musical format. I’m honored to be on the same show with them.”

“Congratulations on your own successes,” she cooed. “I understand you won a Noah Award recently.”

“Thank you. I was humbled by that.”

“And you got your start in country music? Is that right?”

“No. Well . . . yes. Not performing. I worked for country music star, Clint Garrett, for a couple of years. I was a member of his road crew.”

“That must have been amazing. What was that like?”

“It was great. In fact, I recently did some songwriting with Clint.”

“How nice. His career has certainly taken off, hasn’t it?” She studied her notes.

“Yes. It has. And he’s doing well personally.”

“That’s good to hear. I understand he fought a few demons in his life.”

“Well, he did go through some rough spots. But Clint is the first to admit that. He’s a Christian now—”

“Christian entertainers love to talk about the before and the after, it seems. Do you have a before-and-after story, Josh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a renewal story?”

How much did this woman know about him?

“Well . . . we all do.” He offered a tentative smile. “None of us are proud of who we can be at times. But, through the strength of Christ, we—”

“I hope this isn’t too personal, but I understand your wife is very ill and pregnant with your first child. How do you reconcile those things with your faith?”

Josh cleared his throat. “That’s a good question.”
One he preferred not to answer
. “I . . . my wife and I trust that the Lord will provide. In his grace.”

“But an unborn child in danger? How do you deal with that?”

He squirmed in his seat. “You pray a lot. Sometimes, it’s your troubles that lead you closer to God.”

Or to give up on God
.

“I understand your father left the ministry after your mother passed away.” Her eyes darkened.

This woman was out to destroy him. Who had given her so much information?

“Josh?”

“Yes. Well, my dad did retire after my mom died. He was exhausted. And not well at the time.” Josh dug deep into the mustard seed of faith that survived in his heart. “That’s one reason Christian entertainers do what we do. To help people realize they—we—can make it through the difficult times with God’s help. My faith is not perfect, but God’s grace is perfect.”

“Very well said.” The reporter glanced to a production assistant, who was signaling that they were out of time. “Thank you, Josh.”

The interviewer reached to shake his hand. “Would you perform a song for us after the break?”

“I would love to do that.”

“Thank you.”

She turned to camera two. “Josh Harrison. We’ll be back after this.”

He had been set up
. Most likely by Ryan Majors. His road manager was trying to throw him off balance. To preoccupy him. Ryan had given away all of Josh’s dirty little secrets.

Now, he—or someone—must face the repercussions.

Blackberry winter,” Beth said to herself as she opened the mudroom door to let Buster out before bedtime.

The little dog wouldn’t budge. “What’s wrong, Mr. B.?”

He looked at her with his big, brown eyes and gave a slight wag of the nub of his tail. “It’s not raining right now, buddy. We can make a quick trip. I’ll go with you.”

He followed her outside and then scampered into the yard. Beth walked farther onto the patio to enjoy the night sky. The weather was right on target for the middle of April, unpredictable. They’d had no lightning or thunder today. Just rain, and lots of it.

Buster barked from the middle of the yard for her attention.

“I’m coming,” Beth said. “You sure are needy tonight, aren’t you, boy?” The dog smiled. At least his expression appeared to be a smile. She grinned in return. There was nothing like a dog to take your mind off your own worries.

She strolled through the backyard, while Buster moved on to his nightly routine of chasing bugs, sniffing clumps of grass, and checking the perimeter of his yard.

Night had fallen with no real fanfare. After the dog finished his business, she planned to go inside and relax in bed with a book. In the meantime, she would enjoy the peace and quiet of her surroundings. This was her favorite time of day and her favorite season of the year.

A feeling of gratitude descended upon her. Gratefulness for life came naturally in the spring, the earth’s season of new beginnings. Honeysuckles bloomed on the nearby fence, wafting old memories. And a bed of spring flowers beside the patio reflected almost unworldly colors in the moonlight.

Without warning, she heard the rain hitting the leaves of the tall trees that grew in the far end of the yard. Another surprise downpour.

Pregnant women didn’t jog, so she walked as quickly as she could toward the house. When she was halfway there, the rain found its way to the ground. The first few drops landed lightly on her face. The cool mist refreshed and tingled when it touched her skin, taking her back to her childhood. How many times had she walked in the rain when she was a young girl? She had always envisioned God opening up a giant sprinkler system, pouring out healing water for the benefit of all who dwell below.

The rain intensified, and the sharp pelts now stung. She detoured to the eave of the house, shimmying along the side before taking a seat on the back step, protected from the rain.

Invigorated, Buster rushed to her side and settled beneath her bended knees.

“Ooohh. Wet dog!”

He trembled from the chill.

Beth reached inside the door for a towel and then sat back down on the stoop. “Here, let me dry you off, Mr. B. Then we’ll sit here for a while and watch the rain.”

She enveloped the dog in the towel and rubbed him gently dry. After she finished, he snuggled beside her and closed his eyes.

Beth sat, mulling over the beauty of her surroundings, contented to watch the rain and take in the ambiance of the night. When the rain slacked again, Buster ran barking into the yard.

“Shhhh, Buster. You’ll wake the neighbors.”

“What are you up to, girlfriend?”

Beth jumped. “You frightened me!”

Alex had managed to walk through the back gate without Beth hearing her.

“The feeling is mutual,” Alex scolded.

“What do you mean?”

Her neighbor took a seat beside her. “When I got up for a drink of water, I looked out the window and saw Buster playing in the yard. It scared me. What are you doing outside at this hour?”

“What time is it?”

“One o’clock.”

“I must have lost track,” Beth grinned.

“Why are you up so late?”

Beth pointed skyward. The clouds had moved on, and the half moon glowed in a sea of dark blue. “I’ve been sitting here watching the rain and thinking about things.”

“It might be safer, and warmer, to do that inside.”

“I suppose so.” Beth drifted back to her reflections. “Have you ever thought you could see the dark side of the moon?”

“What do you mean?” Alex twisted her body so she could see the moon.

“Just look at it. You can almost make out the full circle, the perimeter, the edges, and even see the faint details of the dark part.”

Alex studied the sky without speaking.

“Or is it an optical illusion?” Beth asked. “Kind of like seeing what you think is there, based on the part you can see.”

“Good question. I have to admit I’ve never thought about it,” Alex chuckled.

“I’m being philosophical tonight. But I think it compares to life,” Beth said. “We always think we know how ours will turn out, you know, based on what we have lived so far. We have plans and dreams and expectations. But we don’t know really, do we? Only God knows what’s on our dark side.”

“I agree,” Alex nodded.

“And we all have dark things in our past. I know I do. But I want to do better tomorrow.”

“One day at a time,” Alex said.

“I’m starting tomorrow, and I need your help.” Beth turned to her friend. “I’m starting to wean myself off the drugs tomorrow.”

“Your painkillers? What will Ben say?”

“Ben? Have the two of you been talking about me behind my back?”

Alex covered a mischievous smile with her hand. “No. We haven’t been talking about you. Not much anyway. I just don’t want you to take any chances.”