Chapter Twenty
Lori
I found Sam cleaning the mini-fridge in the back office.
“Hey, what’s up?” She set down her dirty dishrag and turned to look at me, mopping her face with one arm. “I saw Marshall pulling up; is everything okay?”
“Yeah, he’s great. It’s not him; it’s someone else.”
She stared at me blankly. I told her about the man in the suit and the official-looking papers he had shown me. “His name is Harry Wolfhard. From the moment he walked into the store, I had a terrible feeling. He says he needs to see both of us. He says it’s important.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” said Sam, though I could tell she was just trying to keep me from panicking. She tossed me a lemonade from the fridge. “Here, drink this, and you’ll feel better.”
“What do you want me to tell the guy?”
“You’d better send him in.”
I returned to the dining area, where I found Marshall and Mr. Wolfhard standing at the counter talking about designer shoes. “Marshall, this is probably going to take a few minutes,” I told him as I closed the register. “You don’t have to stick around if you’ve got other things you need to be doing.”
“It’s okay; I’ll go have a look at your bookshelf.” He wandered off in the direction of the back corner where we had nearly slept together a few nights ago. The girls from church had just finished their Bible study and were now holding hands, praying.
I turned to the stranger. “My sister is in the back room.” He grabbed his suitcase off the counter and followed me down the narrow hallway.
“I realize this may come as an unwelcome surprise,” he said when we were all seated. “Last week, South Carolina House of Prayer bought out this entire strip center, and within a few weeks, they’ll be making renovations to the site of the old Food Court. Their intention is to create what they call a ‘global headquarters’ for their prayer and worship movement.”
Sam and I glanced nervously at one another. SCHOP had a reputation, even among the more mainstream churches of Summerville, for being extremist and cultish. “Aren’t they the fanatics who think there’s going to be a third world war involving nuclear weapons?” I asked.
“I remember their pastor prophesying that two-thirds of the people in America were going to die.” Sam shuddered. “It freaked me out.”
“I’m not interested in the details of SCHOP’s religious beliefs,” said Mr. Wolfhard. “We’re not here to judge whether those beliefs are right or wrong. I’ve been asked to inform you that under the terms of their management, you’ll need to pay a certain sum by the end of the month or else relocate. Unfortunately, the terms of your lease don’t protect you.”
“How much do you want?” I asked, not wanting to know the answer. I felt a terrible tightening in my stomach as he reached for a napkin and wrote out a sum.
When he passed it over to us, I nearly yelled. “Seventy thousand dollars? By the end of April? Are they out of their minds?”
“Even if we could afford it,” said Sam, her face pale, “there’s no way I’m giving that man a dime of my hard-earned money. I’ve seen his rallies on TV. They terrified me. His followers are all brainwashed, and if he ordered them to kill someone, they would do it without hesitation. I’m not supporting his ministry just so I can continue to stay in this location. How is this even legal?”
“It’s perfectly legal,” said Mr. Wolfhard, opening his briefcase and pulling out a small stack of papers. “I’ll leave these here for the two of you to look over, along with my number in case you want to call me. My client will need to know within the next week or so whether you’re planning on staying.”
Judging from the look on Sam’s face, she thought his client could go stuff it. “We will look this over and get back to you,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just so you know in advance, we probably won’t be able to come up the money in the next couple weeks. So unless a miracle happens—” She caught her breath, gripping the papers tightly in both hands. “We’ll let you know.”
“See that you do,” said Mr. Wolfhard. Closing his suitcase, he rose and left.
Sam waited until he had gone before slamming her fist down on the table.
“Those idiots!” she shouted. “This isn’t even a subtle attempt to get money out of us. It’s bad enough that he treats his own followers like an ATM. If it were up to me, his ministry would have been shut down the day before yesterday. But if he can continue to extort money out of small-business owners, he can go preaching and terrorizing the community indefinitely.”
“It’s quite a racket,” I said angrily. “What choice do we have but to relocate?”
“Given that there’s no possibility of our being able to cough up the money before the end of the month, I don’t see that there is one. It might even be cheaper to relocate.”
“Which we had been talking about doing anyway,” I pointed out. “I just don’t like being forced into it. I don’t like that a pastor who’s gotten rich off of telling lies and stirring up hatred in his congregation and come in here and drive us out within a few weeks.”
“No, and I’ve done quite a bit of research on him and his teachings,” said Sam. “SCHOP is classified as a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center. Apparently, he tells his followers there’s going to be a violent revolution in which they kill all nonbelievers and take over the leadership of the earth.”
The thought of that stirred up a feeling of dread in my stomach—and not just because it reminded me of my mom. “Honestly, I think I’d rather move than have to live next door to those maniacs,” I replied. “You know, we’ll be able to hear their music blasting through the walls day and night. And they’ll be coming in here ordering drinks and starting fights with our customers.”
“God, I can already see it,” said Sam, running her hands through her hair. “Why don’t they just build their own coffee shop and leave us alone?”
I found Marshall sitting at the back of the coffee shop at the table that had just been vacated by the girls’ Bible study.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked with a look of concern. “I saw that guy storming out of here looking none too happy.”
“Apparently, our strip mall is under ‘new management,’” I explained, bile rising in my throat. I recounted our conversation in the back room and the amount that they wanted us to pay.
Marshall’s eyes widened in horror when I named the sum. “Can they do that?”
“That’s what I want to know,” said Sam. “Something tells me they don’t have the right. Just because they have money and a lawyer, they think they can push us around.”
“Not to mention a significant portion of the town would be on their side. I know the pastor is a sleaze, but a lot of people here really respect him. They’re not the kind of folks you want to piss off.”
“Great.” Sam threw up her hands in the air. “Just the sort of people I want to see coming into my store every day.”
I laid a hand on her shoulder. “For all we know, the law could be on our side. If what they’re doing is illegal, I’m not going to let them get away with it. There are ways of fighting this.”
“How, Lori?” Sam demanded, her voice rising. “We can’t afford a lawyer. We might as well just accept the fact that they’ve won and move on. I don’t see that we have any other choice.”
“Maybe not,” said Marshall slowly. We both turned toward him. “As it happens, my best friend has a degree in law. He was three years ahead of me at Clemson and went straight into law school after graduation. I could ask him to look over these papers and assess their legality.”
“Could you do that?” I asked, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude for Marshall and his friend.
“I was planning on going over there tonight anyway. I would say, don’t worry about this until we’ve had a chance to look over it. I’ll be back first thing in the morning to let you know what he said. But I’m fairly confident that it’s not as bad as it looks.”
I had a feeling he was just trying to keep us from utter despair, but at the moment I didn’t mind so much. “Thanks, Marshall,” said Sam. “If you can get that sorted out for us, drinks are on the house for the rest of the month.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said. “Y’all have both been kind to me, and I like doing favors for friends. Sometimes I don’t know how else to show my appreciation.”
“Well, you’re doing a fine job,” I assured him. I could sense he was trying to atone for the way our date had ended on Saturday. “I hope you know you’re always welcome in this store—regardless of where we end up having to move.”
Marshall beamed, looking quietly pleased.