The Last Straw (The Jigsaw Files #4) - Sharon Sala Page 0,27

do I do?” Jessup muttered.

“Well, it don’t take a genius to figure that out. Turn your ass around and come home. Did you tell anyone else where you were going?”

Jessup groaned. “I might have mentioned it when I was drinking with the boys last night, but I ain’t sure. I was pretty lit.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Britta said.

Jessup groaned again. “Thanks for lettin’ me know, sugar. I’m gonna turn around right now and head back. I’ll likely get home sometime tomorrow. I can’t believe Raver. I didn’t sign up to be betrayed by my own preacher. He preaches hellfire and damnation for sinners, and then turns tail and runs when his own hide is in danger? I did not sign up for this. They can’t arrest me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Whatever...but don’t think you’re coming back to shack up with me. I never wanted anything to do with your church, and I got my own reputation to worry about now. I can’t be tied up to you in any way, and have my picture all over the Facebook and the Twitter.”

“But, baby...you can’t just—”

“I’ll put your clothes on the porch,” she said.

The line went dead in his ear.

Jessup stared at the phone, and then laid it down in the seat, pulled back onto the highway and began looking for a place to turn around.

Six

Farrell Kitt was a thirty-something-year-old farmer with a pregnant wife and three kids—the oldest having just turned nine. His devotion to the Church of The Righteous was just one heartbeat less than his devotion to his family.

His one regret was that his wife, Judy, did not share his love of his church, and refused to go herself, or let him take their children there. She didn’t know what he was doing when he packed up and left this morning, other than he’d promised to do a favor for Jeremiah. He was a long way from home, but was still on I49 in Louisiana, heading to Shreveport, when his cell phone rang. When he saw it was Judy, he smiled and answered.

“Hello, sugar. How’s my favorite girl?”

Judy was crying and screaming, and it scared him to death. All he could think was that something had happened to one of the kids, as he pulled over to the shoulder of the interstate.

“Judy, honey! Take a breath. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” He heard her inhale and then blow her nose. The kids were all crying in the background, and now his belly was in knots. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“It’s everywhere—all over the TV and internet. My sister saw it on Facebook and called me, so I looked and seen it with my own eyes. That woman Jeremiah keeps preaching about...the one he calls a devil? She’s gone and put out a quarter of a million dollar bounty on two men she claims Raver sent to kill her. Are you one of them? Is that the favor you were doing for him?”

Farrell felt like he was going to puke.

“You don’t understand,” he said.

“It’s true? You’re really one of them? Oh, my God! You are a raving idiot. You’re the one who doesn’t understand!” Judy cried. “If you’re one of them, then there is a bounty on your head.”

“What? What? She can’t do that! That’s murder for hire!”

“You’re a fool! A damn fool!” Judy cried. “You’re the one out to kill, and she don’t want you dead.” Then she began outlining what she knew, finishing up with the one positive aspect. “If anyone hurts you in any way, the bounty is nullified and they get arrested.”

“How did she—”

“Barrett Taylor is in jail. He talked after she took him down, and he told her there was more comin’ after her, so this happened.”

“Call Preacher Raver! Ask him what I should do!”

Judy started crying all over again.

“He’s not answering his phone and no one’s seen him. Wherever you are, turn around and come home. Don’t no one have to know, if you didn’t tell. I sure didn’t.”

“But our church people could guess...and they’ll talk,” Farrell said. “Even if they can’t collect, they might give me up in an effort to distance themselves from the church.”

“Just come home,” Judy begged.

“Yes, yes, I will,” Farrell said. “I’ll hunt me a place to turn around and be there as soon as I can. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just calm down. It’ll be okay.”

The line went dead in his ear. And just like that, his passion to end a life had dwindled to cold sweat