Nothing Sacred

So bring it on. She was in control. She’d handle it. Somehow.

“When Shelley came over the hill, she was hanging on to the arm of a kid I’ve never seen in Shelter Valley. He’s certainly never been at church.”

“Hanging on to him like ‘help me get up this hill ’cause I’m tired,’ or hanging on to him like ‘I have to touch you or I’ll die’?”

David’s arm moved against hers. If she’d been hanging on to his arm, Martha wondered on some distant level, which statement she would choose to describe herself?

Definitely the first.

Not that she’d ever asked for help climbing a hill in her life. She was definitely not the clingy, helpless type.

But then, her daughters weren’t, either. She’d raised them differently than that.

She knew his answer before he gave it. And still felt the impact of his words in the center of her stomach.

“The second,” he said.

“What did he look like? Her age? Younger? Clean-cut? A scholar—the nerdy type? Please tell me you think they were studying out there.”

“His hair was purple, hanging around his face and shoulders, dirty-looking.”

She just couldn’t believe it. She’d never realized a heart could break without any outward signs at all. “And he was wearing a pocket protector, right?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“Leather and chains.”

Cold, filled with dread, Martha had a feeling that the weekend Shel had been gone, she hadn’t been reading magazines and talking about boys.

“She’s sleeping with him,” she said with resignation.

“Unless we’re lucky.”

“You think they’re doing more than that?” she asked.

“Like drugs, for instance?”

“Maybe. I guess.” Did she have drugs in her home? Right now? That Tim might find? Or sweet little Rebecca?

“Probably.”

Yeah, she’d thought so. In the good news department, the preacher was batting 0 for 4.

MARTHA WAS IN NO FIT state to stand around and look natural when they pulled up at the Lincoln dealership. But she’d manage to do what David asked of her. She had no idea why they were there, or what he hoped to accomplish that Greg had not, but she knew better than to ask. For now. For now, she had to focus until Ellen’s attacker was apprehended. Somehow she felt that if she could only get this one battle behind her, see good prevail and justice done, then the rest of her life would fall satisfactorily into place.

Somehow it wasn’t going to be too late.

Not for Ellen. For Shelley. No matter what had happened to her girls, they were still the sweet innocent little beings she’d brought into this world. She could still remember so vividly how their faces used to shine at the end of each day, as they babbled every thought in their heads, telling her all their joys and little triumphs.

Martha was going to clean up this whole mess. See their faces shine again. She was. Because she was in control. She could do this.

“YOU WANT ME TO test-drive a car?” Martha asked David half an hour after they’d arrived at their destination. He hadn’t seen anyone he knew, or recognized any actions that seemed out of the ordinary. But something inside him—whether intuition, guardian an

gel, or wishful thinking—was telling him pretty compellingly that he needed to be there.

“Yeah,” he told his companion, glad now that he had her with him. The sun had gone down; darkness had fallen. If something was going to happen, it would be soon. “Have you ever driven a Town Car?”

“Are you kidding? I was thrilled when I got my Ford. It was the first new car I ever owned.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know how a luxury car drives, in case you come into a fortune and want to buy one someday?”