Double Indemnity, page 23
“What do you think?” Connor asked. “Was it worth the walk?”
“It’s spectacular,” Liz said as she caught her breath.
Connor pointed across the stream. “There’s a path that goes to the top, but it’s pretty rugged and can be treacherous when there’s been a rain shower. We won’t try that.”
“Good idea,” Liz quickly replied. “I don’t want to hurt myself and make you carry me out.”
Chapter 25
Connor slipped off his backpack. He’d been impressed with Liz’s stamina and pace on the hike. “Ready for lunch?” he asked.
“I’m starving.”
Connor handed Liz her water bottle. “Finish it off,” he said.
“Shouldn’t I save some?”
Connor pointed to the stream. “There’s plenty of water in front of us.”
“Is it safe to drink? I thought you could get sick.”
“We won’t.” Connor took out a small device from his pack. “I’m going to purify some water.”
Placing the exit tube inside Liz’s water bottle and the intake end into the stream, he quickly filled the bottle. Liz took a drink.
“It’s cold and good,” she said.
There was a large, flat rock at the edge of the pool where they laid out the food. Liz finished preparing Connor’s sandwich. He appreciated her simple act of service in squeezing mustard and mayo from the packets. Before they ate, Connor closed his eyes to pray. Instead of a short sentence or two, he found himself thanking God for not only the food but also the hike, the forest, the waterfall, their conversation, and that Liz agreed to join him in the first place.
“Sorry,” he said when he finished.
“That’s okay, but if you’d gone on much longer, I was going to start eating and let the prayer take effect in real time.”
Connor sat with one leg propped up on the rock. “This is a great wrap,” he said after his first bite. “Everything tastes better in the woods.”
“I was surprised we didn’t see anyone else on the trail.”
“Maybe it was the threat of rain. There were fresh footprints from a group of three hikers who came before us.”
“You could tell that?” Liz asked, raising her eyebrows.
“It wasn’t hard. I counted the boot prints in the muddy spots on the trail.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“I’ll show you on the way out.”
After they ate, Liz took off her boots and socks and dipped her red-painted toenails into the pool. “It’s brisk,” she said, “but refreshing.”
Connor watched as Liz leaned over and picked up a smooth white stone from the pool.
“What is this?” she asked, holding it up.
“Either calcite or quartz. Let me see.”
Liz handed him the rock. Connor scraped it against another darker stone.
“Quartz,” he said, returning the rock to Liz. “It’s much harder than calcite.”
“Is that also going to be on the test you give me during the drive home?”
“Yes.”
Liz glanced over at Connor. “I like the nature and scientific side of you,” she said.
Connor leaned back and braced himself with his hands on the rock beneath him.
“And I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you,” he said. “Not just today. I guess that’s obvious to you, not just Bev Devon.”
“Bev’s a romantic.” Liz smiled.
They stayed long enough beneath the waterfall for Connor to refill their water bottles from the stream.
“I really like this,” Liz said, taking a long drink. “It’s much better than the spring water they sell at the store.”
“That stuff loses something in the industrial process.”
Liz put back on her shoes and socks. She stood and stretched. “If we don’t head back, I’m going to get stiff.”
“Do you want to lead the way?” Connor asked.
“Why?”
“You can see more than my back.”
“Okay, but I’ll never recognize the intersection with the game trail.”
“I’ll handle that part.”
During the return hike, Connor was able to point out things in front of Liz as she approached them. He showed her the boot patterns in the mud.
She eyed them skeptically. “I can’t see three different sizes. They run together.”
Connor broke off a twig and used it to illustrate the different lengths. “And this hiker needs a new pair of boots. Some of the treads are almost totally worn down.”
The sun came out from behind the clouds. The return hike seemed quicker than the walk to the waterfall. Letting Liz set the pace, Connor checked the fitness tracker on his wrist. They were moving faster.
“Here’s the game trail,” he said.
“If we kept going on the main trail, how far would we end up from your vehicle?”
“About three quarters of a mile. We’d have to walk along the dirt road to return to my Jeep.”
“I’d like to do it,” Liz said.
“Okay.”
There were two trucks and a single car parked at the trailhead. They started down the dirt road. Now they walked side by side.
“When you recorded the video on the Burnt Pine Tree property, were you on a game trail?” Liz asked.
“No, that was strictly cross-country, although I usually follow the same general route.”
“Could we do that hike?”
“The destination is the top of a steep hill with a fantastic view. I rarely see anyone up there because it’s only accessible by a scramble over boulders for a hundred yards or so.”
“Do you think I could do it?”
“If we take our time.”
They reached Connor’s vehicle an hour later. Once they left the bumpy gravel road, Liz leaned her head to the side and closed her eyes. She opened them as they neared town.
“That was rude,” she said, shaking her head. “I passed out.”
“A nap after a hike is almost as good as a sip of water from a mountain stream.”
Liz opened her water bottle and took a refreshing drink. When they reached her apartment Connor pulled her backpack from the rear of the Jeep.
“I had a wonderful day,” Liz said.
“Me too.”
Liz stepped forward and gave Connor a hug. He pulled her closer for a few seconds before they parted.
“Will I see you in the morning at church?” he asked.
“Yes, but there’s a chance I won’t pay attention to the sermon.”
“Why not?”
“I may be thinking about game trails and waterfalls.”
* * *
Liz went to bed early. Normally, she didn’t remember her dreams, which often fell in the category of unconsciously working out the stress of her day. Tonight, she woke less than an hour after falling asleep from a dream in which she was sitting beside a stream slightly bigger than the one she and Connor visited on the hike. He wasn’t there. She was alone. The flowing water shimmered with reflected sunlight. In the dream Liz leaned over, cupped her hand, and brought some of the water to her lips. Just before she drank, the thought flashed through her mind that she’d not purified the water. She brought her hand to her lips anyway. The clear liquid was cool when entering her mouth but instantly became warm as it flowed through her body. Both sensations were pleasant, but in different ways.
Liz woke up thirsty. Going into the kitchen, she turned on the faucet and filled a glass half full. Taking a drink, she frowned. The water for the apartment came from a deep well on the property and was better than any municipal water she’d ever had. Liz took another drink that was barely better than the first. The water from the tap wasn’t as good as the water Connor gave her and much inferior to the water in her dream. Returning to bed, she quickly fell asleep and didn’t awaken until after her usual time.
Rolling over, she groaned as multiple muscles voiced their complaints about the exertion of the previous day. Sitting on the side of the bed, she remembered the dream. It remained as vivid as when she’d awakened earlier.
Gentle stretching helped loosen her muscles, but she walked slower than normal across the church parking lot. Inside, the congregation was smaller than at any other time she’d visited the church. There was a wide-open space on the pew beside Bev and Sam. Liz joined them.
Bev smiled when she saw her. “How was the hike?” she asked.
“Great. Did Sam go with Fred?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad he didn’t get struck by lightning.”
Bev chuckled. The service was scheduled to start in about five minutes. Liz shifted in her seat and moved her legs to keep them from stiffening up. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Elena and Tracy walking down the center aisle toward the front of the sanctuary. People turned to watch the sisters. Liz could see people lean over and whisper. Compassion for Elena rose within Liz. Her client had been through so much.
The choir entered with Connor behind them. Liz settled into the familiar routine of the service. When Connor stepped forward to begin the sermon, she hoped they would make eye contact. Instead, he started speaking by quoting a Bible passage:
On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.
Connor explained the context of Jesus’s words related to the celebrations of the Jewish calendar. Liz didn’t pay attention to what he was saying. Her threat of mentally zoning out during the sermon came true—but for an entirely different reason. Instead of a daydream, she revisited her dream in the night and wondered if what she’d encountered in the experience was living water. It was a crazy thought. She knew Jesus was speaking metaphorically. But it was impossible to deny the vividness of what she’d seen and felt. The refreshing coolness, followed by pervasive warmth. Only something alive could create such a unique impact.
Grabbing a Bible from the pew rack, she turned to the gospel of John and began reading from the beginning of chapter 7. The account was all about the identity of Jesus and whether he was the Christ. A note at the bottom of the page explained how in the context of the passage he was the promised Son of God and Savior of the world. Jesus spoke directly to the issue, culminating in the verses Connor quoted. Liz felt herself dropped into the middle of the story. The choice was clear: believe or reject who Jesus was. Both types of responses were clearly described. No middle ground was possible. Staring at the words on the page, Liz knew she had to decide. Taking a deep breath, she chose to believe.
The rest of the sermon was a blur. Toward the end of the service, she heard Connor make a reference to the newspaper article. When that happened, Liz shifted in her seat to gauge Elena’s reaction but couldn’t see her clearly. Bev nudged Sam. Liz glanced down at the open Bible in her lap. She wanted to read the verses about water again. She finished as Connor gave the closing prayer. The congregation stood for the benediction.
Bev leaned over to Liz and whispered, “I told Sam there wasn’t anything to that article in the newspaper.”
Liz could see Sam move away from them toward the aisle.
“What did he think?” she asked.
“That the newspaper is only good for finding out what’s on sale at the grocery store.”
“Will he be satisfied by what Connor said today?”
“He’d better be. Otherwise, he’s going to be eating cereal for supper.”
Liz looked toward the front of the sanctuary. Instead of making his way down the aisle to shake hands with people as they left, Connor was talking to Elena and Tracy. But he was obviously looking past them.
Liz quickly made her way forward and interrupted the conversation. “I know you need to get to the rear of the sanctuary,” she said to Connor. “I’d like to speak with Elena and Tracy.”
With a grateful look, Connor left. Elena had put on makeup and was wearing a cream-colored dress.
“How are you feeling?” Liz asked her.
“Upset,” Elena replied. “And Connor won’t listen to me about being proactive. If his name gets dragged through the mud, then mine won’t be far behind. Now the whole county knows Daughbert Technology was in financial trouble. Writing something slanderous about me and Connor is next.”
“Why would the paper do that?” Tracy asked, looking at her sister in surprise.
Elena motioned to Liz. “Ask Liz. She knows.”
“Anything is a possibility,” Liz replied. “But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. I hope the reporter writing the articles has enough journalistic integrity not to print something without any factual support.”
“If he does, I want you to sue,” Elena said emphatically. “I may not have as much money as I thought I would, but I’ll pay whatever it takes.”
Liz didn’t respond. It wasn’t the time to inform Elena that she couldn’t sue another one of the law firm’s clients.
“And I’m ready to schedule a time to come to the office,” Elena said. “Tracy is going home tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for Tracy to leave so soon?”
“We’ve talked it over,” Elena replied before her sister could speak.
From the look on Tracy’s face, Liz guessed they’d not been in agreement.
“Elena knows I’ll come back if she needs me,” Tracy said.
Liz stepped aside as Elena moved past her with Tracy trailing behind. When the sanctuary was mostly empty, she made her way to the foyer. Connor was still shaking hands with people as they exited. She waited until he was alone.
“Good morning, Ms. Acosta,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I hope you enjoyed the service.”
“More than you can imagine.” Liz smiled.
“Why? Tell me.”
“Aren’t you tired of spending time with me?”
“Don’t you remember what I said at the waterfall? Let’s do lunch at the Olive Tree.”
Chapter 26
Connor thought about the morning’s service as he drove to the restaurant. It wasn’t break time for the local schools or a holiday on the calendar, but the number of people in the pews that day had been lower than normal. There was no logical explanation other than the controversy caused by the newspaper article. Connor had done his best to take the sting out of the issue, but there had been a negative impact.
During the early part of the service, he checked off who wasn’t there by vacant spaces in the pews where people usually sat. Some weren’t a surprise. They were individuals and couples who were resistant to what he’d said to them in a phone call or written in an email. Others were more surprising.
He reached the restaurant and parked behind Liz’s car. They walked side by side along the sidewalk.
“This is as far as I want to hike today,” she said when they reached the entrance.
“Sore muscles?” he asked, holding the door open for her.
“Are you telling me that you’re not stiff or sore?” she asked.
“Not really.”
“Which means not at all?”
Connor shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe a tiny bit in my left deltoid. I didn’t have the strap on my pack adjusted exactly right.”
“Every deltoid, quadricep, calf, and gluteus is letting me hear from them,” Liz said.
“But not your bicep?”
Liz flexed her right arm. “No, it handled my morning cup of coffee without a whimper.”
The waitress brought two glasses of water.
“Elena and Tracy made it to church,” Liz prompted.
“Yeah, I’m glad Elena felt well enough to show up. And thanks for rescuing me. I needed to get to the rear of the sanctuary. Usually, people realize that’s the case and don’t try to slow me down.”
“But not Elena.”
“She gets a pass on church etiquette after what she’s been through.”
The waitress arrived, and they ordered their food.
“Why did you enjoy the service?” Connor asked.
Liz paused for a few seconds before she answered. “I’m not sure where to begin, but it started with the hike, followed by a dream, which was connected to the verses you read from the Bible.”
Connor’s eyes brightened. “I’m eager to hear whatever you’re willing to tell me.”
Connor had never heard anything like the story that came from Liz’s lips. If he’d not seen her analytical side as an attorney, he would have been skeptical and assigned her a place alongside some of the mystics he’d read about in church history. While she talked their food arrived.
He barely touched his plate. “I can understand you having a dream about a stream after going on our hike to the waterfall,” he said.
“But what about the physical sensations that I experienced in my body?” Liz asked, picking up a fork. “It felt as real as this fork in my hand.”
“That’s out there,” Connor replied, shaking his head.
“And then you began your speech at the church reading from the Bible about living water, which would have sounded totally metaphorical to me yesterday but completely practical today.”
“Sermon,” Connor corrected.
“Sorry, I whiffed on the lingo. I spent part of the rest of the sermon reading the entire chapter. That helped me put what Jesus said into context.”
Connor ate then as Liz talked.
“So do you think I’m way out of bounds?” she asked when she’d reached the end of her retelling.
