Deadly Aim by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

were always the strong one when we were growing up. You were the one who never wanted to miss Sunday school. You memorized all of the Bible verses and, man, Angel, I remember when we’d go on vacation—you’d spend the entire trip singing Jesus songs and driving us all crazy.”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, well, things change.” She didn’t want to be reminded of how things used to be. She’d seen too much evil and too many prayers go unanswered in the past few years. She’d come to realize that God—if there even was a God—existed outside of reality, watching creation’s demise and doing nothing about it.
    But Tim wouldn’t let her get off that easily. “Remember when I was in the hospital for so long after the accident?” he asked.
    “Of course.” He had nearly killed himself as a teenager. Like a lot of kids, he’d plunged headlong into booze and partying. He’d been the only survivor of a car accident in which four of his friends had died. At first, the pain had been so great that he’d wanted to die too. Not only had he lost his friends, he’d lost a leg as well.
    “You know what kept me going, Angel? Prayers. Your prayers. You came to see me every day, and you kept telling me that God was going to make it all better.”
    A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I also told you to quit feeling sorry for yourself and get your lazy carcass out of bed.”
    “That too.” Tim got out of the chair and walked toward her. He’d made a full recovery and had been fitted with an artificial leg. “The point is, God answered our prayers. He made everything more than all right. God used that accident in a number of ways to give me a better life than I had before. I never touched a drop of alcohol after that night. And I met Susan. She was a candy striper, remember?”
    “I remember Peter and Paul threatening to steal her from you if you didn’t shape up.” Tim had married Susan six years later. She’d become a nurse, he the pastor of St. Matthew’s Church.
    “You’re avoiding the issue.”
    “What do you want me to say, Tim? You want me to agree with you—to say that God is going to make everything right? I can say it, but I still don’t believe it.”
    “You’re obviously too upset to think clearly.”
    “Because I disagree with you? You have your faith, and that’s fine, but don’t push it down my throat.”
    He glowered at her. “Some things never change. You are still the most infuriating, stubborn, and obnoxious sister a guy could have. When you come to your senses, call me. In the meantime, I’ll be praying for you.”
    Tim turned around and left, pulling the door shut behind him with a resounding thud.
    Oh, that was good. Your big brother offers his help, and you attack him. What’s wrong with you? He was just trying to be helpful .
    But he didn’t have to be so pious about it. She pinched the bridge of her nose. In a way, she wished she could go back to the faith she’d had as a child, but that wasn’t possible. As she’d told Tim, too many things had happened to convince her that God could not be who she had once thought him to be. How could a God of love allow such despicable things to happen? Dani had believed in God. Dani was dead.
    A chill shuddered through her. Something akin to stage fright weakened her knees and gripped her around the chest, making it hard to breathe.
    You’re overreacting. Snap out of it . She glanced at the clock. Brandon would be here soon, and she needed to get ready. The two of them would have a cozy, quiet dinner. They’d talk about his work and his family. Maybe after dinner they would come back to her apartment and relax in front of the fire. Or maybe they’d walk on the beach in the moonlight.
    She rubbed her hands down her face. “I’m not ready for this.”
    Maybe not , but it sure beats being alone and thinking about that kid .

 
    C allen walked from the entry of the old cannery to the north corner, where he took a left