Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
NOAH BARRETT
I grip my steering wheel of my police cruiser as I turn the corner, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Savannah’s words to Levi won’t stop plaguing me.
There was a situation.
What situation is she talking about? I thought she just didn’t want to go out with me anymore. Did something happen all those years ago?
I drive down Peach Tree Lane, my windshield wipers making a steady swishing sound. The moonlight reflects off the street, the drizzle distorting things out my window. It’s one o’clock in the morning, and the streets are silent.
Thankfully, we live in a pretty sleepy town. The quiet nights are the best. Our town doesn’t have a gang problem. We haven’t had a murder since I’ve been on the force. Most of our calls come from noisy neighbors or people double parking. We do deal with domestic violence and some drug problems, but for the most part it’s not a dangerous town. The people here are good people.
I turn another corner and drive past Fellowship Grace. There’s a light on in the basement, and I squint at it. Was that light on before? I didn’t remember it being on, but I admit, I was distracted tonight.
I pull into the parking lot, my headlights flashing across the building. The basement light goes out. I look around, but there’s no car in the parking lot. If Pastor John were here, his car would be sitting by the door. My Spidey senses tingle, and I pull out my radio, calling dispatch. I let them know I’m going to check the premises for intruders.
My radio crackles. “Ten-four.”
I grab my mag light and exit my squad car. Tiny raindrops pelt me as I walk toward the church. I jaunt up the stairs and check the doors. Locked. The glass is intact.
I go down the steps and walk toward the window where I saw the light. The window well is deep, and I shine my flashlight down into it so I can see it better. The window is fine, the glass unbroken. Sticks and leaves cover the dirt, and I can’t tell if it’s been disturbed. I reach my foot in and test the window. It easily swings inward.
A noise comes from inside the church, and my adrenaline pumps. I jump into the window well and crouch down, swinging the window inward with my flashlight. I sweep the room with my light. It’s some kind of storage room. Cardboard boxes line the walls, and a table sits below the window. No one is in the room.
The window isn’t huge, but I’m pretty sure I can get in, so I slide my legs in and climb onto the table. A banging noise comes from further inside the church, and I jump down from the table. “This is the police,” I yell, as I open the door, exit the storage room and flick on the lights.
The basement area is set up for Bingo night. Tables and chairs fill the space. Steps echo as someone runs up the stairs, but they’re just past my view. “Stop! Police!” I yell as I run after them.
The sound of the front doors clang, and I race to catch the perpetrator. But when I get outside, no one’s there. “Stop,” I call out, but I know it’s useless. The perpetrator is gone.
I grab my radio and call for backup, then I go back inside the church to see what might have been stolen.
I check the office, but nothing is disturbed. I do a sweep of the rest of the church. As I’m finishing up with the main floor, Officer Monroe arrives on the scene, and I let him in. He’s been on the force longer than I’ve been alive. He runs a hand over his face as he surveys the entryway. “Anything stolen?”
“Not that I can see.”
Monroe nods. “Probably some kids messing around. How did they get in?”
I lead him downstairs to the storage room. “Through that window, there.”
Officer Monroe climbs onto the table and examines the window, and I look around the storage room to see if anything was disturbed. I shine my flashlight under the table and find a blanket, a ragged stuffed Eeyore, a wadded-up hoodie, and some communion crackers in a pile by the blanket. My heart sinks and I let out a breath. “Take a look,” I say, motioning to Monroe.
He jumps down from the table and ducks his head under. “Well, crap.”
“Think they’re homeless?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Probably.”
We don’t get a lot of drifters on Willow Shade. Makes me wonder who it could be. We have a couple of people who go on benders and cause trouble, but this looks more like a kid running away from home.
“I’ll talk to Pastor John in the morning.” I stare at the pile of crackers and wonder how hungry the trespasser must have been.
“I’ve locked the window. They won’t get back in.”
I nod and gather up the belongings. Monroe talks to dispatch while I take one more walk through the church. Then we both get in our cruisers and search for the trespasser. Unfortunately, we don’t find them.
* * *
Two days pass, and I haven’t seen any other signs of the trespasser. It’s possible they left the island. It still weighs heavy on my mind, though. I keep seeing that Eeyore, the fur gone in patches, and I just know there’s a kid somewhere wandering the streets. It’s breaking my heart.
I stop by the grocery store to grab some eggs and more bread before I start my shift. Alice, one of the sweet widows who attends Fellowship Grace, approaches me in the aisle. She’s in her eighties, but she could pass for a woman in her sixties. I swear she doesn’t age. “Noah, how are you, dear? I haven’t spoken to you in forever. I heard you’re dating Savannah?”
I force a smile. She’s the third person this week that’s asked. I remind myself that this is a good thing. It means Donald will find out soon, if he hasn’t already, and leave Savannah alone. It just annoys me because it’s one more reminder that Savannah isn’t really mine. It’s all fake. “Yes. How are you, Alice?”
She pats her silver hair, pulled back into a fancy updo. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alice with her hair down. “I’m fine. Having a little trouble with my hip again. I swear, it tracks the weather better than channel eight.”
I laugh. “You telling me it’s going to storm?”
She nods as she pulls a loaf of bread from the shelf and puts it into her cart. “It’s coming for sure.”
“Noted. I’ll put an umbrella in my car.”
“And you hold on to that sweet Savannah. She’s been through a lot. She deserves someone good like you.” Alice pats me on the hand in parting, then pushes her cart down the aisle.
I stare after her, my thoughts racing. First, no one ever calls me a good man. My reputation is not that great on Willow Shade. Everyone remembers all the bad things I did. I’m shocked that Alice thinks I’m good for Savannah. Second, I have no idea what she’s talking about. What has Savannah been through?
I don’t like the thought that there are major things in Savannah’s life that I don’t know about. I resolve to rectify this.