“Yes. That is it.”

“This is insane!”

“Yes it is. Happy holidays.” She turned away and left him in her wake as she disappeared down the hall in short order.

So, that was that. Case closed.

James let out a frustrated growl and stormed out of the courthouse. He needed to calm down, clear his head. He needed strong coffee and even stronger advice. This never-ending game of one-step-forward-two-steps-back was stretching his nerves to a thready breaking point. If the throbbing blood vessel in his temple was any indication, he would explode all over the snow-covered courthouse lawn before he ever made it back to his truck.

He thrust the keys into the ignition and then willed a deep breath and calm exterior before he fired up the engine. It wouldn’t do to skid down the slicked highway and kill himself or someone else.

Pastor Barrow. The man’s kind face came to James’s mind. Yes; the good pastor would have great advice, and the pastor’s wife brewed a mean pot of coffee.

~*~

“One half of me says let it go. Come to terms with it. The other half has no choice but to pursue it with a vengeance,” James lamented forty-five minutes and three cups of coffee later. He paced the short width of the fireplace in Pastor Barrow’s living room.

Mrs. Barrow sat on the couch opposite her husband, and a look passed between husband and wife that didn’t bode well for James.

Pastor Barrow gave James a half-smile, one brow quirked in a trademark expression with which James was all too familiar. “I don’t think ‘vengeance’ is the proper tack in either case. See, God has given us a free will. You know that.” He leaned forward a bit. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” The shred of aggravation which laced James’s tone surprised him. Until the pastor asked the question, James had thought his motives were pure. Now he wasn’t so sure. He glanced over at the pastor’s wife. Didn’t look as though she was too sure, either.

“Is it something more than your obvious friendship and loyalty to Travis?” the pastor pressed.

“I supposed I want to find the truth.” Pathetic! Even as he spoke the words, James knew they weren’t entirely accurate. Yes, he wanted to find the truth—for Travis’s sake—but so far, the truth had made him squirm, and that was a feeling he didn’t care for very much…well, not at all, actually.

“And what if the truth is exactly as they say it is?” This from the kind old woman who had nurtured James as a surrogate mother during his many visits to the pastor’s house.

Her husband smiled.

James squirmed inside, the niggling like a harbinger he wanted to escape. What if Travis was guilty? How would James handle it? “Then I’ll come to terms with it,” he said firmly. He wasn’t sure if he were trying to convince them or himself.

“Ah, but there’s the rub. Can you?” Pastor Barrow asked.