rod.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
“Open up, Maggie.” She registered Sean’s muffled voice.
“Sean?” She thrust off of the floor and sprinted to the front of the café.
Sean stood just on the other side of the glass, his face smudged with soot. “Maggie, would you let me in?”
She yanked open the door and propelled herself toward his chest, plastering her arms around his middle. “Are you OK?”
He patted her back. “Well, I won’t be if you don’t let me breathe.”
Warmth spread up her cheeks as she released him. “Sorry.” She stepped back through the entryway.
He lifted his hand to his neck and began twisting as he trudged through the front door and dropped onto the chair he’d left earlier. “No need to be sorry.”
“Can you talk about it?” She slid onto the chair and locked her hands in a tight grip.
“What I know…not that it’s much. It looks as if someone threw a brick, broke the front window of the police station, and followed that with a homemade smoke bomb. The smoke set off the alarm, signaling the fire station. But somehow, the sprinklers weren’t set off. We’ll have to look into that later when the insurance company gives their assessment. Other than the window, and some public service time, nothing appears to be damaged.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.”
His lips drew into a tight line. “I guess.”
“You guess? That doesn’t sound very solid, Chief. I would think you would be pleased that it was basically a non-event. No one was hurt. Nothing was destroyed. Sounds pretty good to me.”
Shrugging his shoulders, the left corner of his mouth twisted. “Why would someone break the window of a police station and not take anything? Not destroy anything? It doesn’t make any sense. Who would break in for no reason?”
Ice shot through her veins. She swallowed deeply trying to dissolve the instant bulge in her throat. “Who, indeed.”
5
The unusually muggy air of the October morning enveloped Sean as his feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. He enjoyed his early morning runs. They gave him an opportunity to check out his town and spend some time in prayer. He wasn’t good at sitting in a pew, a chair, or even a recliner, and centering his mind on talking with The Lord. His mind seemed to focus best when his body was in motion.
As he turned from Sycamore Lane to Columbus Street, his prayers fell in pattern with his morning route.
He started with his brother Mac, in South Carolina, who was facing uncharted territory. The owner of the company where Mac acted as the general counsel was nearing the end of a long cancer battle. The man was a mentor to Mac, a man of integrity and faith, and his brother’s admiration for his boss was evident with each mention of his name.
The CEO’s looming death gave Sean pause.
How would his brother react to losing another integral person in his life? With the death of their dad, and then their mom, Mac retreated into himself, turning his back on his family, friends, and even God. He was much further along on his faith journey now, thanks in large part to the man who now faced imminent death, and Sean prayed that Mac’s relationship with the Lord was strong enough to withstand the blow of another loss. Perhaps this loss would cause him to turn outward, seeking comfort in others and Jesus, rather than trying to solve all of his problems alone.
Sean prayed for that truth.
The squeal of tires turning a corner fractured the peaceful cocoon the early morning provided. He ignored the distraction and continued to the intersection of Columbus and Main. Turning left onto Main Street, he quickened his pace, heading up the slight slope as he neared the town square, and shifted his focus to his younger brother, Joey.
Joey lived and played professional baseball in Minnesota. He’d ridden a slump from the All-Star break to the close of the regular season. His self-worth was yoked to his ability to perform on the field. The last few times he’d
BAM! BAM! BAM!
“Open up, Maggie.” She registered Sean’s muffled voice.
“Sean?” She thrust off of the floor and sprinted to the front of the café.
Sean stood just on the other side of the glass, his face smudged with soot. “Maggie, would you let me in?”
She yanked open the door and propelled herself toward his chest, plastering her arms around his middle. “Are you OK?”
He patted her back. “Well, I won’t be if you don’t let me breathe.”
Warmth spread up her cheeks as she released him. “Sorry.” She stepped back through the entryway.
He lifted his hand to his neck and began twisting as he trudged through the front door and dropped onto the chair he’d left earlier. “No need to be sorry.”
“Can you talk about it?” She slid onto the chair and locked her hands in a tight grip.
“What I know…not that it’s much. It looks as if someone threw a brick, broke the front window of the police station, and followed that with a homemade smoke bomb. The smoke set off the alarm, signaling the fire station. But somehow, the sprinklers weren’t set off. We’ll have to look into that later when the insurance company gives their assessment. Other than the window, and some public service time, nothing appears to be damaged.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.”
His lips drew into a tight line. “I guess.”
“You guess? That doesn’t sound very solid, Chief. I would think you would be pleased that it was basically a non-event. No one was hurt. Nothing was destroyed. Sounds pretty good to me.”
Shrugging his shoulders, the left corner of his mouth twisted. “Why would someone break the window of a police station and not take anything? Not destroy anything? It doesn’t make any sense. Who would break in for no reason?”
Ice shot through her veins. She swallowed deeply trying to dissolve the instant bulge in her throat. “Who, indeed.”
5
The unusually muggy air of the October morning enveloped Sean as his feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. He enjoyed his early morning runs. They gave him an opportunity to check out his town and spend some time in prayer. He wasn’t good at sitting in a pew, a chair, or even a recliner, and centering his mind on talking with The Lord. His mind seemed to focus best when his body was in motion.
As he turned from Sycamore Lane to Columbus Street, his prayers fell in pattern with his morning route.
He started with his brother Mac, in South Carolina, who was facing uncharted territory. The owner of the company where Mac acted as the general counsel was nearing the end of a long cancer battle. The man was a mentor to Mac, a man of integrity and faith, and his brother’s admiration for his boss was evident with each mention of his name.
The CEO’s looming death gave Sean pause.
How would his brother react to losing another integral person in his life? With the death of their dad, and then their mom, Mac retreated into himself, turning his back on his family, friends, and even God. He was much further along on his faith journey now, thanks in large part to the man who now faced imminent death, and Sean prayed that Mac’s relationship with the Lord was strong enough to withstand the blow of another loss. Perhaps this loss would cause him to turn outward, seeking comfort in others and Jesus, rather than trying to solve all of his problems alone.
Sean prayed for that truth.
The squeal of tires turning a corner fractured the peaceful cocoon the early morning provided. He ignored the distraction and continued to the intersection of Columbus and Main. Turning left onto Main Street, he quickened his pace, heading up the slight slope as he neared the town square, and shifted his focus to his younger brother, Joey.
Joey lived and played professional baseball in Minnesota. He’d ridden a slump from the All-Star break to the close of the regular season. His self-worth was yoked to his ability to perform on the field. The last few times he’d
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