directly to a consultation room. Lorna was brought in just a few minutes later.
“Hi, Lorna.”
The girl didn’t answer. She sat down at the table and kept her eyes averted.
Anna hesitated, trying to feel her way through this. “We’ve missed you at youth group. Don’t you want to come anymore?”
Lorna gave a quick, negative shake of her head without looking at Anna.
“That’s a shame. Everyone there likes you so much.”
Lorna hunched her shoulders but didn’t say anything.
Anna decided to take the bull by the horns. “Sheriff Tate tells me you set fire to a classroom at school this morning. He didn’t want to put you in jail, but he had to.”
Again no response.
“You’ve never done anything like this before, Lorna. Not even the little stuff that most kids do. So it seems to me that if you felt you had to start a fire, something must be hurting you terribly. If you tell me what’s wrong, we’ll do whatever we can to fix it.”
Lorna looked up at her then, her gaze bleak, almost hollow. “Nobody can fix it.”
“Nobody can fix what?”
But the girl didn’t answer. She lowered her head again.
Anna wanted to reach out and touch her, but she wasn’t sure that would be the right thing to do. Lorna had isolated herself emotionally, that much was apparent, and a touch might be truly unwelcome.
“When I was your age,” she said finally, “something horrible was happening to me, and I couldn’t figure out how to stop it.
Finally I ran away from home for good, but that really didn’t fix much. In fact, it made some things worse.” She realized she had Lorna’s attention now, so she continued. “Looking back at it now, I realized I should have trusted some of the adults in my life. I should have told them what was happening, because any one of them could have helped me. But I didn’t. And that was a big mistake.”
Lorna glanced at her, then looked quickly away without saying anything.
“Just give us a chance, Lorna. The sheriff and I both really want to help you.”
“You can’t. Nobody can.”
“You can’t know that until you let us try.”
Lorna stood up so suddenly that her chair fell over backward. “I want to die! All I want to do is die! Nobody can help me. Nobody at all! Go away. Go away before you get hurt!”
Anna hesitated, but Lorna turned suddenly to the door and started beating on it, screaming, “Get me out of here! Get me out of here now!”
Shaken, Anna watched helplessly as the deputy took Lorna back to her cell. When she felt she could trust her legs to hold her, she went downstairs to Nate’s office.
“Well?” he said when he saw her.
She shook her head. “She won’t talk to me. But she said something very strange. She told me to go away before I get hurt.”
“Was she threatening you?”
Anna shook her head. “Can I sit down a minute? My legs are still shaking.”
“Help yourself. So she wasn’t threatening you?”
“I didn’t get that feeling.” She sank gratefully into the chair. “But something is terribly, terribly wrong, and I got the distinct feeling that someone has threatened her.”
He nodded, compressing his lips grimly. “Yup. That’s about the only reason I can figure that she’d want to stay in a jail cell. Now we have to find out who and why. Damn!” He passed his hand over his eyes, then drummed his fingers on the desktop.
“I’ll talk to her friends,” Anna offered. “The kids she always hung out with in the youth group. Maybe they can shed some light on this.”
“You do that. I’d talk to ’em myself, but I don’t want ’em to clam up for fear of getting Lorna into more trouble.” He gave her a crooked smile. “That’s the disadvantage of this uniform.”
“I’ll let you know if I find out anything. And will you let me know how the bail hearing goes? Maybe she won’t make good on her threat.”
“If she does, it’s going to be a long night for her. God, I can’t see leaving a young girl like that in a cell. We don’t even have proper facilities for it. What if my men have to bring in some drunk tonight to sleep it off? Or worse?” He shook his head. “Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll take her home with me. In custody. Maybe Marge and the girls can get to the root of it.”
Anna nodded. “That might be a good idea. But no matter what, Nate, I wouldn’t send her home.”
He arched a brow at her and nodded slowly. “That’s what I was thinking. I got a feeling there’s something very wrong there. But I have to have something to go on, Anna. I can’t just stick my snoot in without something.”
“I know.” Nor could she. But she could certainly call Lorna’s friends.
A few minutes later she headed back to the church. The wind had grown cruel, and she had no trouble believing there would be sleet later on. The sky was leaden now, with no hint of the autumn sun left anywhere, and the last of the dead leaves were sailing across sidewalks and lawns. The town already looked deserted, as if it had settled down for its long winter sleep.
Dan Fromberg had returned, and greeted her the instant she stepped in the door. “Candy’s okay,” he told her, coming to stand in the doorway of his office.
“Wonderful!” She hung her jacket on the rack and rubbed her hands briskly together.
“I made fresh tea,” he told her, pointing to the drip coffeemaker they used for brewing tea. “You look like you need to warm up.”
“It’s gotten really bitter out there. Oh, I forgot!
I need to go lock the church door. I left it open for Hugh.”
Dan shook his head. “He checked with me a minute ago, and I locked it.”
Anna felt disappointed to realize she’d missed him. She immediately scolded herself for the feeling. “What did he say?”
“It looks like we’re going to need some major work done. He says we need to replace the insulation in quite a few places, so escaping heat under the eaves doesn’t cause the snow to melt, then turn into ice. He also pointed out some spots where the roof is concave, and it’s trapping the snow rather than letting it slide off.”
“That does sound expensive.”
He grimaced. “I’m going to have to dip very deep into the building fund, but at least we can afford it now.” Last spring, when they really should have had the work done, the fund had been nearly empty, having been used for repairs to the foundation. Good Shepherd Church
