One Smooth Stone. Marcia Lee Laycock

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years ago. It keeps giving me indigestion. I want it solved before my retirement hits. See what you can find.”

      The rookie nodded. “Will do.”

      Sorensen returned to his desk and pinned the enlarged photo to the bulletin board behind it. Then he took a thick red marker and drew a bull’s eye over Alex Donnelly’s face.

      * * *

      Alex woke early and walked the beach to rid himself of the surreal shadow that always dogged him after another nightmare. He’d dreamed about the red-eyed snake again. This time it was coiled under the stairs in the cellar. He shivered and tried to distract himself by looking out at the bay. He shoved his left hand into his pants pocket to keep it from moving to his neck. “That was then,” he whispered. “Stay in today.” A low sun hid behind a smudge of cloud. Alex thought it looked like a huge thumb had tried to blot it out. Not bothering to roll up his pants he waded into the light surf, sucking in his breath as the cold lapped at his legs.

      He breathed in the smell of the sea, the rich abundance of it, the smell of life breaking down and life coming into its own. He’d grown up near the sea, but had hardly noticed it. There was so much he’d blocked, so much he hadn’t let touch him. He thought again about what Drew had said. Could it all be just an accident? Was I an accident? Or was there more, something I’m missing? He kicked at the waves. It seemed like there were always pieces missing. Glancing up at the Adams’ house a burning resentment turned his empty stomach to bile. He turned away and spat into the water. What am I doing here with these people? I should leave now, just disappear. He squatted and watched the lapping water. But in a few more days maybe I’ll know.…Know what? Answers? He scoffed at himself. He wasn’t even sure what the questions should be.

      He lingered on the beach until his stomach started to growl, then jogged back to the house, slipping in quietly. He assumed everyone would still be asleep, but he found Kenni on the deck, alone. She had a small book in her lap and another larger one open on the table, a coffee cup beside it. He watched her for a while. She wrote something in the book on her knee, then closed it and shut her eyes. She lifted her face and her lips moved slightly. Alex backed up when he realized she was praying. Then he moved forward again when he saw her smile, almost like she was dreaming. She sat completely still as though listening.

      Alex suddenly felt her goodness in a way that stunned him, recognizing it was what he’d been searching for, longing for—that something good he’d heard in her father’s voice, the goodness in her eyes that made him want to move close to her and made him want to run at the same time. And as he recognized it he knew it was not a goodness that was her own, but something that had come to her and her father. He knew it had never, would never come to him. The longing rose up in him and as he felt it, the rage returned.

      Kenni stirred and drew the other book onto her lap. Alex took another step backward, his heel brushing the leg of a chair. It scraped on the tile floor. Kenni looked up and smiled.

      “’Morning, Alex.”

      He swallowed his emotions and stepped through the doorway. “You’re up early.”

      “I love the morning, especially here. It’s so quiet, peaceful.”

      “What are you reading?”

      “Psalm 103.”

      “Oh.”

      The smile faded as she looked down at the Bible.

      Alex suddenly wanted to please her. “So—what does it say?” he asked.

      “That we should never forget to praise the Lord for all the good things He’s done for us, because….” She smoothed the page with her hand. “Can I read it to you?”

      He shrugged. She read. “He ransoms me from death and surrounds me with love and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things. My youth is renewed like the eagle’s! The Lord gives righteousness and justice to all who are treated unfairly. Psalm 103, verses 1 to 6.” She let the book rest on her lap and looked up. “This is my mom’s Bible. A different translation than I usually read, the New Living Translation, but I kind of like it.”

      “Do you believe what it says?”

      Kenni sighed. “Most of the time, though I admit there are times when it isn’t easy.”

      “You’ve seen...what’s it say? Righteousness and justice?” He fought to keep the anger out of his voice, but couldn’t hide the cynicism.

      Kenni’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Not always. But I try to hang onto the hope that I’ll see it, someday.”

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