{ 345 }.

Spooked about money, she had gone along with their father and latched onto the wealthiest sap in town so that no matter what happened to the family, her style of living wouldnt be affected. He just hoped that the cost to her didnt prove to be too high. Richard Pford was a nasty little SOB.

Not his circus, not his monkeys, however. As much as it saddened him, he had long ago learned to give Gin her head and just let her go"

there was no other strategy to deal with his sister, really.

Jogging up the stairs, he went to his room and showered, shaved, and seersuckered. It took him two tries to get the bow tie right.

Man, he hated the things.

He took the staff stairs back down, cut through the kitchen, and went to Miss Auroras door. As he had when hed come to see her earlier, he checked that everything was tucked in, buttoned properly, and as it should be before he knocked.

Except then he stilled. For some reason, he had an abject fear that she wouldnt answer the door this time. That he would rap his knuckles, and wait . . . and do it again, and wait some more . . .

And then he would have to break down the panels as he had with Rosalindas office" and he would find another dead"

The door opened, and Miss Aurora frowned at him. Youre late.

Lane jumped out of his skin, but recovered fast. Im sorry, maam.

Im sorry.

Miss Aurora gave him a grunt and patted her bright blue church hat. Her outfit was as brilliant as a spring sky, and she had matching gloves, matching shoes, and a perfectly coordinated pocketbook that was the size of a tennis racquet. Her lipstick was cherry red, her ear- rings were the pearl ones hed given her three years ago, and she was wearing the pearl ring hed gotten her the year before that.

He offered her his arm as she shut her door, and she took it.

Together, they walked out through the front of the house, passing Mr. Harris, who knew better than to say anything about which door they were using.

Lane escorted Miss Aurora to the Porsches passenger seat and set- { 346 }.

tled her in the car. Then he went around, got behind the wheel, and re- started the engine.

Were going to be late, she said crisply.

Ill get us there on time. Just watch me.

I dont abide by no speeding.

He found himself looking over at her with a wink. Then close your eyes, Miss Aurora.

She batted at his arm and glared at him. You are not too old to spank.

I know you want a seat in the front pew.

Tulane Baldwine, dont you dare break the law.

Yes, maam.

With a sly grin, he hit the gas, shooting the 911 down the hill" and as he passed a quick glance in her direction? He found that Miss Aurora was smiling to herself.

For a moment, all was right in his world.

{ 347 }.

FORT Y.

T he Charlemont Baptist Church was located in the West End, and the bright white of its clapboards stood out among the blocks and blocks of lower- income housing units that surrounded the place. Talk about pristine, though. From its carefully tended-to grounds to its freshly surfaced parking lot, from the flowering pots by the double front doors to the basketball courts out back, the place was as polished and cared for as something from a 1950s postcard.

And at twenty minutes of nine on a Sunday morning, it was teeming with people.

The instant Lane pulled in, the greetings came so fast and so many that he had to slow the car to a crawl. Putting both their windows down, he took hold of hands, called out names, returned challenges for pickup games. Parking in the back, he went around and helped Miss Aurora out; then he led her over to the sidewalk that ran down the side of the churchs flank.

Children were everywhere, dressed in flouncing gowns and little suits, the colors as bright as crayon boxes, their behavior better than that of a lot of the grown- ups who came to the parties at Easterly.

{ 348 }.

Every one, but everyone, paused and spoke to him and Miss Aurora, checking in, catching up" and in the process, he realized how much he had missed this community.

Funny, he wasnt a churchgoer, but whenever he was home, he never failed to come here with Miss Aurora.

Inside, there were easily a thousand people, the rows of pews filled with the faithful, everyone talking, hugging, laughing. It was too early for the fans to get broken out, but they would come, usually in June.

Down in front, there was a band with electric guitars, drums and basses, and next to them were the risers that would hold the gospel choir. And behind all that? The incredible organ pipes"the kind that could blow the doors and the windows and the very roof wide open"rose as if con- necting the congregation directly to Heaven.

Max should be here, Lane thought. That brother of his had sung in the choir for years before hed gone off to college.

But that was a tradition that was lost, seemingly forever now.

Two rows from the front there was space for them, a family of seven squeezing in to make room.

Much obliged, Lane said, as he shook the fathers hand. Hey, arent you Thomas Blakes brother?

Am, yes, the man said. Im Stan, the older. And youre Miss Auro- ras boy.

Yessir.

Where you been? We havent seen you here for a while.

As Miss Aurora cocked a brow to him, Lane cleared his throat. Ive been up north.

My condolences, Stan said. But at least youre back now.

Theres my nephews. Miss Aurora pointed across the aisle.

DShawne is playing for the Indiana Colts now. Wide receiver. And Qwentin beside him is center for the Miami Heat.

Lane lifted his hand as the two men caught Miss Auroras eye. I remember when they were playing in college. Qwentin was one of the best centers the Eagles have ever had, and I was there when DShawne helped us win the Sugar Bowl.

{ 349 }.

Theyre good boys.

All your family is.

The organ cranked up, and the band started to play, and from the narthex, the bloodred robed choir strode in, fifty men and women walk- ing together, singing the processional. Behind them, the Reverend Nyce followed with his Bible to his chest, the tall, distinguished man meeting the eyes of his flock, greeting them with honest warmth. When he saw Lane, he reached out and shook hands.

Glad to have you back, son.

When it was time for everyone to settle back in their seats, Lane had the strangest feeling come over him. Disturbed, he reached over and took Miss Auroras palm.

All he could think of was that tree limb falling the night before. The sight of Lizzie slumped in her car. The electric fear hed felt as hed dragged himself over those branches in the storm, screaming her name.

As the band struck up his favorite gospel song, he looked at the cross above the altar and just shook his head.

Of course it would be this one, he thought.

It was as if the church itself was welcoming him home, too.

Getting up to his feet with Miss Aurora, he started moving with the crowd, back and forth, back and forth.

He found himself singing along: I want you to know that God is keeping me . . .

A n hour and a half later, the service ended and the Bubba hour started, the congregation going to the lower level for punch, cookies, and conversation.

Lets go down, Lane said.

Miss Aurora shook her head. I gotta go back. Work.

He frowned. But we always"

He stopped himself. There was nothing that needed tending to at Easterly. So the only explanation was one that made him want to call 911.

Dont look at me like that, boy, she muttered. This is not a medi- { 350 }.

cal emergency" and even if it was, Im not dying in my church. God wouldnt do that to this congregation.

Come on, take my arm again.

They were very nonchalant as they went against the crowd" and man, he really would have preferred to throw her into a firemans hold and defensive lineman his way out of there. And then halfway to the door, he had to stop to talk to Qwentin and DShawne" along with seventeen other members of Miss Auroras family. Ordinarily, he would have loved the conversation . . . not today. He didnt want to be rude, but he was very aware of how much Miss Aurora was leaning on his arm.

When they finally got out of the church, he said, You wait here. Ill bring the car around. And no, Im not arguing about it, so just stop.

He almost hoped she put up a fight, and when she didnt, he fell into a jog, heading for the very far reaches of the parking lot.

Coming back with the Porsche, he nearly expected to find her passed out cold.

Nope. She was talking with a very regal, slender woman, who had a face like Nefertiti, a modest suit that was black, and a set of rim-less glasses over her sharp eyes.

Oh . . . wow, he thought. Talk about a blast from the past.

Lane got out. Tanesha?

Lane, how are you. Tanesha Nyce was the reverends oldest daugh- ter. Its good to see you.

They embraced and he nodded. Good to see you, too. You a doctor yet?

In residency here at U of C.

What are you going into?

Oncology.

Shes doing the work of the Lord, Miss Aurora said.

Hows Max? Tanesha asked.

Lane cleared his throat. Damned if I know. I havent spoken to him since he went out west. You know him, always a wild card.

Yes, he was.

Awkward. Moment.

{ 351 }.

Well, Im going to get Miss Aurora back home, he said. Nice to see you.

You, too.

The two women spoke in hushed voices for a moment, and then Miss Aurora allowed him to escort her down the steps and to the car.

What was that all about? he asked as he drove them off.

Choir practice next week.

Youre not in the choir. He glanced over when she didnt say any- thing. Miss Aurora? Do you need to tell me something?

Yes.

Oh, God. What.

She took his hand and didnt look at him. I want you to remember what I said to you before.

Whats that?

I got God. She squeezed hard. And I got you. I am rich beyond means.

She held his hand all the way back to Easterly, and he knew . . . he knew . . . she was trying to get him ready for what was coming. Realized, too, that that was why he had insisted on Edward seeing her yesterday when his brother had been at the house.