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Back Low Country Save as PDF
Chapters (25)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. CHAPTER 1
  4. CHAPTER 2
  5. CHAPTER 3
  6. CHAPTER 4
  7. CHAPTER 5
  8. CHAPTER 6
  9. CHAPTER 7
  10. CHAPTER 8
  11. CHAPTER 9
  12. CHAPTER 10
  13. CHAPTER 11
  14. CHAPTER 12
  15. CHAPTER 13
  16. CHAPTER 14
  17. CHAPTER 15
  18. CHAPTER 16
  19. CHAPTER 17
  20. CHAPTER 18
  21. CHAPTER 19
  22. CHAPTER 20
  23. CHAPTER 21
  24. CHAPTER 22
  25. CHAPTER 23

I opened the door and dashed out into the driving rain. As I turned my truck to drive away I looked up and saw Joree’s face and open hands pressed against the window pane, the rain streaming down the glass like a flood of tears.

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

THE NAME OF A FRIEND, A CHURCH, a school—these were all useful. Tonya Causey had lived the majority of her short life here in Effingham County, Georgia. And someone here—maybe several someones, for that matter—would have information, whether they knew it or not, that would point in the right direction. That would lead to the essential answer of what happened to bring about the tragic and sorrowful end to a young girl’s life.

The slanting gray rain came down with a steady power that filled the low places and was already sending the many streams and branches over their low banks. I drove slowly over the muddy roads and even slipped the truck into four-wheel drive a couple of times in some of the worst places. The last thing I wanted was to slide off into a cypress swamp on a day like this.

I came to an intersection of two roads, and off to the right, surrounded by a grove of towering pines, was a small white clapboard church. Off to one side and slightly behind the building I saw the headstones of a small cemetery. I swung the truck into the churchyard to get a better look. Splashing across the chain of rain-filled potholes, I pulled up close to read the hand-lettered sign fastened to the front of the porch above the doors.

The sign, painted in a surprisingly good hand, read:

PANTHER CREEK
FULL GOSPEL
EVANGELICAL PENTECOSTAL HOLINESS MISSION
PASTOR TRUMAN RAINWATER
ALL PEOPLES WELCOME

Well, I thought as I read the sign. The pastor’s name is certainly appropriate for a day such as this. And when had anyone ever seen a “Partial Gospel” or a “Half-Gospel” Holiness church? Probably the only thing the sign left out was: FOOT WASHINGS AND DEMON CASTINGS, EVERY FOURTH SUNDAY.

That was getting a little irreverent of me, I’m sure. But I grew up going to a church pretty much like this one. My grandmother dragged me with her, every Sunday morning and evening, and also to Wednesday-night prayer meetings, until I became old enough to rebel and get away with it. How many countless hours had I squirmed my bottom on that hard pine bench, wishing I were somewhere else, daydreaming about what I would be doing were I not sentenced once again to another interminable Jesus pummeling.