Brent readied himself for bed, still troubled by the visit to the cemetery and the stranger who’d clearly sought him out. The sad, forlorn look in her eyes had jarred him.
And what she said.
Proverbs 22:3.
He was no scripture scholar, though he’d once been a regular and dedicated church member. Not so much since Paula died. He wondered if his childhood Bible was still there, so he opened the drawer of the nightstand.
There it sat.
A gift from his father long ago.
He lifted the book out and opened to the page where his father had written,I PRAY THIS BIBLE WILL BE A BLESSING AND COMFORT TO YOU. DAD.
He gently caressed the page above the ink, as if somehow that would connect him to his father. Hard to believe he was gone.
He then leafed through the thin pages and found the cited passage.
A prudent man sees danger and takes refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.
He’d been around ten when his father had given him the Bible. It was an annotated study edition that contained a multitude of footnotes explaining the various passages. The notes on Proverbs 22:3 pointed out that
God in His mercy has denied man the knowledge of the future. In its place He has given man hope and prudence. By hope man is continually expecting and anticipating good. By prudence we derive and employ the means to secure it. There are many evils, the course of which we can neither stem nor divert. Prudence shows beforehand the means to be used to step out of their way, and hide oneself. The simple, the inexperienced, the headstrong, giddy, and foolish, they rush in without prudence to regulate, chastise, and guide them. Thus they commit many faults, make many miscarriages, and suffer often in consequence.
He considered the words and warnings.
What was the woman trying to say?
And why direct the message at him?
Both were good questions.
10:35P.M.
HANK NAVIGATED THE DARKENED STREETS OFCONCORD AND HEADEDfor the paper mill. He had one more errand to run before the night was done.
One he preferred to keep private.
Marlene Rhoden made no secret of her affections for him. She was a year older, a robust woman with curly crimson hair, ample breasts, and an unabashed personality to match them both. She was company management, in charge of Southern Republic Pulp and Paper Company’s thirty-two data entry clerks. Which gave her extraordinary access to an enormous amount of information. They’d quietly dated off and on for the past few years. She’d hinted often of her desire to formalize the relationship with a ring and a wedding. He preferred the current arrangement, since his one and only experience with marriage had not ended well.
No more wives for him.
He parked in the paved lot behind one of the administrative buildings. She’d left the rear door wedged open with a folded magazine. He found Marlene in her office. No one else was around. She routinely worked late and alone. What was unusual was his presence.
She released her hold on the keyboard and stretched her long fingers, wiggling out the stiffness.
“No kiss for me?” she asked.
He knew the drill and stepped around the desk, pecking her on the lips.
“That it?” she asked.
“I’m tired, Marlene. Just had a long meeting. I want to go to bed.”
“Great idea. Let me finish up here and I’ll join you.”
“Alone.”
She smiled. “Can’t blame a girl for tryin’.”
