Lily White Lies(24)

She began, her voice low, “Meg, Pastor Graham and his wife were never blessed with children of their own, oh… and what fine parents they would have made. Anyway, one of the church members, Esther Borland, left her illegitimate teenage son, Shayne, to them in her will…”

“In her will? I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I don’t think you can really, but it was there in black and white that they were to finish raising him. Since they were childless and he was in need of a home, they took him in… being the good Christians they were and all.”

Seemingly more relaxed, she took another drink from the silver flask, not bothering to return it to her purse this time.

“Meg, the pastor and his wife were the perfect example of a happy marriage. I don’t believe anyone had ever heard them exchange a harsh word… until Shayne that is.”

I was eager to hear more and prodded, “What happened,” when she hesitated.

“I suppose the Lord was testing the strength of their marriage because Shayne put them through things one could only imagine. He stole from the collection… he destroyed church property… he ran off more than once and he was prone to set fires, but they kept trying. They prayed and they prayed but for whatever reason, their prayers went unanswered.”

“What finally happened to him?”

Sadness filled her eyes. She shook her head in heartbreaking recollection as she spoke, “It was a week or so shy of harvest time, I remember because the carnival was in. I was at Greeley’s market when one of the ladies from church rushed in as if her pants were on fire, hollering, ‘Renee Graham’s dead. She’s been killed in an automobile accident on Gunner’s Hill’.”

Picking up her flask, she stared at it for a moment and then placed it back on the table, deciding against another swallow.

“Her car had gone through the guard rail on the first sharp curve of the hill, but there wasn’t one skid mark on the road. The police had Gil Schaffer go over the car… looking for foul play I believe. Sure enough, he found that someone had cut through the brake lines. Oh, the poor pastor. He surely adored her.” One, lone tear spilled over Gram’s lashes, as she continued, “I don’t know how he ever made it through the funeral. I swear that man aged ten years in the course of one week.”

She picked up her flask again, this time taking a long swallow, stood and walked around the table toward the window. After looking out in each direction, she turned to face me.

“Meg, Renee Graham was laid to rest on a Thursday. The whole town was in mourning, not only because we had lost one of our own, but because of the manner in which we lost her. I think deep down we all suspected who the guilty party was, but even after everything he had put them through, Pastor Graham would hear nothing of Shayne’s involvement in the accident. He desperately—and foolishly—tried to believe in his innocence.”

She had drawn me deeply into her story. I felt my own eyes fill a time or two while she spoke and found myself anxious to hear more.

“What happened, did he do it and how did they find out?”

Without making me wait, she continued, “The day after the funeral, I took Karen to the church to fold the bulletins as I did every week. The pastor was in his office, working on his sermon. I returned home and was due to pick Karen up in fifteen minutes when the phone rang—it was Pastor Graham.”

Gram wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed vigorously. Even in the heat of a warm day, I watched her tremble. She was obviously having trouble continuing and paused more often to regain her thoughts.

“I can recall the exact words he said to me.” Through her vacant stare, through her tears and through her pain I saw the dark memories and anguish that had burdened her for a very long time. She continued, “When I said hello, he said, ‘Cybil, I’m sorry. I’ve let my congregation down, but I will make amends. Karen needs you now.’ I didn’t even have the opportunity to ask him anything or say goodbye before he hung up.” Choking back a sob, she spoke softly, “I raced to the church. I knew something was terribly wrong, I could feel it in my bones. When I got there, I found my little girl crying in a corner. Her clothes were torn, her hair was mussed, and the pastor and Shayne were lying side by side no more than twenty feet from her. They had each… they had each been shot in the head.”

My breath caught in my throat. I realized what Gram was telling me and suddenly I felt nauseas and wanted to cry. For an unknown reason, I felt dirty and wished I had never asked to know about my past.

“Oh my God, Gram. What you all must have gone through.”