Page 40 of Go Alone

But when it came to murder, a minute too late was the same as an hour was the same as a year. Raymond Brannigan was dead. Their murderer was still at large. All they could do was pick up the pieces the victim left behind and hope that one of them would lead to their killer before he left another life in pieces.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Obadiah MacCready watched the Lawgiver take his meat. He chewed the sandwich slowly, but he showed no pain when he swallowed. That was good. His insides were healing. He’d be ready to move on soon.

That thought brought a pang. Obadiah had grown accustomed to sheltering God’s prophet. He would miss his companionship and guidance. He wondered if the widow of Zarephath felt the same when the Lawgiver’s namesake moved on to fulfill God’s other tasks for him.

The Lawgiver finished the last of the sandwich and drank from the water bottle next to the plate. He sighed in satisfaction, then nodded at Obadiah. “Thank you, my child.”

The corners of Obadiah’s eyes crinkled, the closest the taciturn farmer ever came to a smile. As far as he could tell, Elijah Cox was no more than ten years older than he was. He knew the prophet wasn’t using the term child in a literal sense, but it still tickled him to hear it.

He nodded at the Lawgiver, then said the words he dreaded to say. “You should be healed up well enough to move on now. You’re welcome to stay, but I understand if you need to be about your Father’s business.”

Cox smiled at him. “I have others taking care of our Father’s business at the moment.”

Obadiah felt a glow at Cox’s emphasis. Our Father. Our God. Our mission.

Still, it was clear in Cox’s eyes that Obadiah’s part in this business was ending soon. Cox might stay a little while yet, but he would move on sooner rather than later. The final part of God’s plan was reserved for Cox and Cox alone.

No, not alone. The Lamb would be with him.

Cox had declined to show Obadiah a picture of God’s Lamb, but Obadiah knew the name. He looked up Special Agent Kate Valentine and found a pretty woman about fifteen years younger than he was. She had a cute button nose and a smattering of freckles around it that brought Obadiah closer to the sin of lust than he’d been since Lizzie Creighton had come over to his place with a bottle of wine the day after her husband ran off with their neighbor.

From the way the Lawgiver’s pupils constricted when he spoke of her, Obadiah would think he felt the same. But the Lawgiver’s pleasure was God’s will, not the carnality of flesh. His love for the Lamb was due to her place in God’s plan, not the swell of her breasts or the set of her hips.

Obadiah only wished he could see the fulfillment of that plan.

“You heard from him?” Obadiah asked.

“From God? Of course. All the time.”

The Lawgiver’s eyes twinkled. Like most prophets, he had a strong sense of humor. Obadiah’s eyes crinkled again. “From the disciple.”

Cox laughed. “Yes, I know who you meant. And no, I haven’t heard from him. I imagine I won’t until he’s completed his work in Ohio and moved on.”

Obadiah’s face grew serious. “You ought to be movin’ on. They’re close.”

“Not close enough to find me,” Cox said mildly. “They’re in a different part of the state, and you’ve been careful with your purchases. No one will suspect that you’re harboring anyone, let alone me.”

“She will,” Obadiah insisted. “The Lamb will.”

Cox’s smile faded. “Yes. I suppose she could. But I have faith.” He smiled again. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Obadiah?”

He spoke with a gentle tone, but Obadiah could hear the hardness behind the slightly accented Lawgiver’s gentleness.

That stung. Obadiah frowned. “Ain’t tryin’ to do nothin’ but keep you safe. That’s what God called me to do, and I intend to see it through.”

His own accent, a thick, rural northeastern burr that was distinguishable from a southern drawl by its clipped words and sharper enunciation, though the sentences he constructed would have been equally at home in Alabama as they were in Ohio.

“Of course,” Cox said soothingly. “I would never question your loyalty.” He gave Obadiah a knowing look. “You’re trying to get me to tell you when I’m leaving.”

Heat climbed Obadiah’s neck, but his thick tan would keep it from reaching his face. “Yup, I guess so. Gonna be quiet without you.”

Cox reached across the table and squeezed the burly farmer’s hand. “I will be with you in spirit even when I’m not with you in body. God has shown me the place you will occupy at my side in the New Earth. You will be given a position of authority and power. We will share that power together when God prepares a place for His children.”

Obadiah chuckled, a rare external sign of pleasure. “Ain’t much for authority,” he replied, “but I’ll keep you company.”

“There is nothing I would like more.”