Kennedy Stern Christian Suspense Complete Box Set (Books 1-9)

Straightened-8

Nick was already rummaging through a large closet in the living room. “Well, what if we find something that involves absolutely no thought whatsoever?” He pulled out a colorful box. “Candyland?”

Kennedy laughed. “Sure. Why not?” It beat sitting alone in her room worrying about Noah.

Her mind still hadn’t fully registered that Wayne Abernathy was dead. This felt more like a live drama, where everything was staged, no matter how realistic it felt at the time. Suspension of disbelief. That was the literary word for it. It’s what allowed theatergoers to look past the audience members in front of them. What allowed sci-fi fans to ignore clear-cut rules of physics in order to enjoy a far-fetched story. It was the same thing now, only in reverse. Wayne Abernathy couldn’t really be dead. She had seen him just a few hours ago. She wondered if his death had made the news yet and was glad for Nick — strange company as he was — and his preschool board game to keep her preoccupied.

As it turned out, if the goal was distracting herself, Kennedy should have picked a game that required more skill than simple color recognition. She lost herself several times in her musings until Nick had to remind her to take her turn on more than one occasion. Neither of them talked about Noah. Neither of them mentioned the dead senator, but Kennedy could tell Nick was about as distracted as she was. When he won the game, neither bothered to suggest a rematch.

“I think Sandy’s got some chamomile tea in her cupboards.” Nick went to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. “Care to share a cup with me?”

Kennedy couldn’t pinpoint what was so strange about a single bachelor with dreadlocks taking chamomile tea as his nighttime beverage of choice, but she declined. “I think I’ll just head to my room and read some.” Who would have thought a game of Candyland could be so draining?

Nick looked like he had something else he wanted to say, but when he stayed quiet, Kennedy wished him goodnight and headed to the Lindgrens’ guest room. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, but her eyes could use a short rest. She’d slept the day away like King Duncan’s drugged bodyguards in Macbeth, but she hadn’t taken her contacts out. The lenses were dry and scratchy against her corneas. She rummaged through her backpack for some eye drops when she came across the book Reuben gave her last spring.

The Last Battle by C. S. Lewis. He had known back then. Had known he wouldn’t be coming back to campus. Had known it was time to tell Kennedy good-bye. Part of her had known then, too. Known that as great as a friend as he was, it could never turn into anything deeper. She’d prayed about it over the summer. Prayed a lot. And the more her heart wanted to beg God to bring Reuben back in her life, the more she suspected he was asking her to let go.

It didn’t make the sacrifice any easier.

Kennedy had dated a few boys in high school, but her dad had been right when he told her they weren’t interested in her. Reuben was the first guy who’d really loved her. She was sure of it. He wasn’t like those boys in high school who just wanted to flirt or make out. She couldn’t understand it entirely, but she knew in some way his decision to stay in Nairobi was a sacrifice he was making for her. For Kennedy. So she could move on instead of falling in love with an HIV-positive exchange student who would only distract her from her academic goals.

The irony was she had no idea how she’d pass two lab courses this year without him by her side.

She thumbed through the pages of the Narnia book and reread the inscription Reuben had written for her on the front cover.

To my dearest friend Kennedy. Thank you for giving me the best year of my life. All my love, Reuben.

She shut the book and hugged it. Her mom told her it was best to move on. Stay friends with Reuben, keep emailing and Skyping if she wanted, but let him go as far as romance was concerned. The only problem was her mom never told her how. How to rip someone out of your heart who had never hurt you, who only wanted to do what was best for you. How to turn away from your biggest encourager, your biggest support. Everyone said sophomore year was the most grueling for pre-med students. And she was about to walk into it jetlagged and completely alone.

God has a plan. She was sick of hearing that from so many well-meaning Christians. God has a plan. Well, Kennedy had a plan too. What was wrong with hers?

She tucked the book into her backpack and checked her phone for emails. Maybe Reuben had written her. She had an entire folder of deleted drafts, letters she’d started to write to him, telling him she didn’t care about the HIV, didn’t care about the differences in culture. She wanted to be with him and would do anything she could to make it work out. But something always stopped her. Maybe it was the Holy Spirit. She didn’t know. Some Christians were great at “hearing from God,” at knowing just what he wanted them to do at any given time. But Kennedy was never like that. She had the Bible, and she had wisdom gleaned from her parents and the Lindgrens and other teachers from her growing-up years. And that was it.

Then again, even if she heard from God, even if a voice called down from heaven and told her it was time to give up her love for Reuben, she knew it would be just as difficult. Just as impossible. Maybe time was the answer. Maybe in a month, a year, she’d look back and thank God he hadn’t allowed things to progress any farther between them. When she graduated from Harvard, she didn’t want to have that nagging what if still stuck in the back of her head. What if Reuben hadn’t been sick? What if he hadn’t dropped out of school? What if the two of them hadn’t been scared to share their emotions before it was too late?

Eventually, Kennedy would have to let him go. The only question was how.

She heard the teakettle whistling in the kitchen and lay down on the bed. Maybe she could convince her body to take a little nap. It couldn’t hurt to try.

The second she shut her eyes, visions of Wayne Abernathy flashed through her mind. Had he burned to death in his sleep? What if the whole thing was a terrible accident, nothing more? What was going on with the investigation? She hoped they found Noah soon so at least he could clear his name. There had to be a good reason why he wasn’t at his house during the fire. There had to be a good reason why he hadn’t checked in with anybody.

Snippets from Dominic’s prayer around the Lindgrens’ dinner table played in her mind. Prayers for comfort for Vivian and the rest of the family. Prayers for Noah’s safety, wherever he was. Kennedy noticed that Dominic never specifically prayed for Noah to be found. He just asked for the truth to be disclosed.

God knew where Noah was. Maybe that’s what Kennedy should be praying about. Praying for Noah, the boy suspected of setting the fire that killed his own father. What did a little broken heart compare to something like that? And then the whole homosexuality thing. Kennedy could only imagine what Channel 2 would have to say about it when the story broke.

Poor Noah ...

A high-pitched beeping grated against Kennedy’s ears. At first she thought it was the teakettle. What was Nick doing out there? Why was he making so much noise?

“Kennedy?” Sandy was yelling from down the hallway. “Kennedy!” There was fear in her voice. Fear and something else. Panic.

Anxiety swelled up in Kennedy’s chest cavity, sitting heavy on her sternum and compressing her lungs.

“Kennedy!” Sandy threw the door open. “Come on, sweetie. We all have to get out. The house is on fire.”

CHAPTER 11Sirens wailed, and strobing lights pierced the darkness in flashing shades of red and blue. Carl held Woong against his chest as they huddled in the driveway across the street.

“What’s that?” For once, Woong wasn’t kicking or screaming.

“Those are the firefighters, hon.” Sandy ran her fingers through her son’s hair. “They’re making sure everyone’s safe.”

Kennedy couldn’t believe it. By the time Carl and Sandy got everyone out of the house, the entire back bedroom was engulfed in flames that now leaped and danced from the rooftop. So many firefighters scurried around that Kennedy couldn’t guess how many of them there were. A few other neighbors were out of their homes as well in various stages of undress. At least it wasn’t a cold night.

“How did this happen?” There was a tremor in Sandy’s voice. Kennedy wanted to hug her but felt shy for some reason. Usually, Sandy was the one to comfort her, not the other way around. “Why would anyone do this to us?”

Carl slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. “It might have been an accident. We won’t know until they check everything out.”

“Senseless,” Sandy was muttering. “What were they thinking? That was Woong’s room.” Her voice cracked, and she wiped tears from her cheeks. “A little boy. A helpless little boy.”

Carl held his son closer and cleared his throat. Then, as the firefighters doused the last of the roaring flames, he lifted up his booming voice in prayer. “Lord, great God and heavenly Father, we give you thanks. We give you thanks and praise, Lord, because there ain’t nothing in that house that can’t be replaced. We give you thanks and praise, Jesus, because you kept us all safe. The enemy came tonight. He came to steal, kill, and destroy, but you said no. No, you weren’t going to let our family suffer harm. Our house could have burned to the ground, and you would have just provided us with another. But you knew, Lord, you knew how important we were to each other. You knew how precious each life here is, and you saved us. God, we love you. You didn’t have to do it, Lord. You didn’t have to get us all out of there in time. I’m sure there’ll be mourning, Father. Mourning for the things we lost, the things we’re sure we can’t live without. But remind us, Jesus. Remind us of what we do have. Remind us of the way you stepped down and intervened and told the devil he couldn’t destroy our family. He couldn’t destroy our faith. The house can burn, but we’ll go on praising your name. Yes, Lord Jesus, because you’re our Savior, and there is nothing in this world more precious or valuable than you.”

There was no amen, no loud announcements or proclamations, just a peace that settled in the air around them and lingered as they nestled together on the sidewalk.

“I’m hungry.” Woong started to squirm, but Carl didn’t put him down.

“Not now, son. We can’t go home yet.”

Kennedy stared at the house. The men had extinguished the flames, but a black, smoldering smoke still hissed from the rooftop. A firefighter in his bright yellow suit lumbered toward them, taking off his mask as he neared. “It got that back room pretty bad. Not sure how much you’ll be able to save from there, but the rest of the house looks all right.”

“Thank the Lord,” Sandy whispered.

The firefighter frowned. “It’s not safe for you to enter right now, and I heard the police are on their way. Want to rule out arson.”

Sandy glared at her husband. “I told you it was ...”

“The thing is, we can’t have you staying here tonight,” he interrupted. “We have some numbers if you need help finding shelter. There’s a social worker on call who’ll help with all those arrangements unless you ...”

“You all can crash at my place tonight.” Nick had been so quiet Kennedy almost forgot he was there. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll manage.”

“I don’t know.” Carl frowned. “What time is it? Almost two? Maybe we’d be better off just springing for a hotel. No use storing money in an emergency fund if you don’t ...”

“Let me take care of you. Please.” Nick pointed at the bus parked sloppily on the sidewalk. “I’ve got my keys right here. Woong and Kennedy can sleep on the couches. You two can take my bed. It might be crowded, but it won’t be any inconvenience at all.”