Blindside

Savich’s face a moment before he said, “Oh, I’d forgotten that you got hurt at Katie’s house. The nurses at the hospital were really excited about having an FBI agent laid out there.”
    Savich arched an eyebrow.
    Reverend McCamy shrugged. “It’s a small town, and two of the nurses in the emergency room live here in Jessborough. Gossip is rife. Now, that’s an odd question, AgentSavich. What do I think of Sam? Well, he appears to be precocious, a very forthright child.”
    “You mean just because he repeats what he heard adults say?”
    “No, not just that.” Reverend McCamy paused a moment, stroking his thin fingers over the wool of his black jacket. “It’s that he’s somehow above the normal lies and deceptions of children.”
    “I’ve heard Sam tell a few whoppers, Reverend. He’s a little boy, and that’s exactly what one would expect. But the fact that he saved himself, now that’s very impressive. He wasn’t cowed by fear—and that’s amazing for a six-year-old. I suppose you heard the story of how he slithered out of a window in the old Bleaker cabin, and took off, Beau and Clancy after him.”
    “Yes, I’ve heard several versions of the tale. All of them strike to the soul.” Reverend McCamy slowly shook his head, his eyes on his fingers, which were still stroking his jacket, against the nap. He said nothing more. How strange.
    Savich said, “Don’t you believe it’s quite a coincidence that Clancy was your wife’s brother and he brought Sam here?”
    Reverend McCamy raised his dark eyes to rest on Savich’s face. “Coincidences are random acts that are drawn together by foolish men.”
    “I gather you are not a foolish man?”
    “I am a realistic man, Agent Savich, but yes, like most men, I am occasionally foolish. I believe that our Lord would have us study each random act as it touches us and try to determine how it will enhance our grace. You think my wife and I were involved with the boy’s kidnapping, Agent Savich? Just because Clancy was her brother?”
    Savich said slowly, not really wanting to look in those black eyes, eyes that somehow seemed to absorb darkness from light, “What I think, Reverend, is that your wife’sbrother brought Sam to Jessborough, Tennessee, for a reason. You’ll have to admit that both Clancy and Beau demonstrated a great deal of motivation. They simply didn’t stop trying to get him until they were dead. That, also, is very strange.”
    Reverend McCamy merely nodded. He raised his right hand and stroked his fingers through his black hair. His hair was thick, long enough to tie at his nape, but he let it hang loose. Stroking his hair was a long-standing habit, Savich thought.
    Savich wished he had another pain pill. “Why do you suppose they did that, Reverend?”
    “I really have no idea, Agent Savich.”
    “When Clancy was at the sheriff’s house last night, he said something unusual to Mr. Kettering. He said that he didn’t necessarily believe it. Believe what, Reverend McCamy?”
    “I have no idea, Agent Savich.”
    “Clancy also admitted to Mr. Kettering that someone had hired him.”
    Reverend McCamy shrugged. “Then it seems that someone was paying them a great deal of money to get the child.”
    “That much is obvious. But the question remains: Why is Sam so important to the one who paid them? What is it about Sam that makes him so valuable, if you will? No ransom demands, no obvious revenge motive, no pedophilia that we know of, so it must be something else. Do you know what the motive could be, Reverend McCamy?”
    Reverend McCamy shrugged. “As I remarked, he is a precocious child, but I can’t personally imagine anyone going to all that trouble for a precocious child.”
    “Then it must be something more.”
    The reverend’s dark eyes rested on Savich’s face. “I have found that there is always something more, Agent Savich. It is a pity that men are given free will. There is endless abuse, don’t you agree?”

    “Why do you say it’s a pity?”
    “Free will allows men to make disastrous mistakes without end; what they should be focusing on is gaining God’s grace.”
    Savich said, “I think the reason for many of men’s endless mistakes is a direct cause of their search for God’s grace. Witness the history of Ireland, England, Spain, France—men’s disastrous mistakes litter the landscape, Reverend, especially in their efforts to focus God’s grace on themselves, and to deny all other men’s