Ten Plagues

“Because it does,” Paul said vehemently. “It does for me. My anger has always been Satan’s greatest hold over me. When I first gave my life over to God, I had to fight the rage in myself constantly.”

Paul looked behind them. Keren glanced in her rearview mirror and saw the reporters racing toward their cars.

Paul turned forward again. “I can hear the devil whispering anger into my ear. Anger is what ruined my marriage, it was what drove me to work eighteen hours a day. It was what made me turn my back on my daughter.”

Paul took a deep breath and Keren saw his clenched fists open. “It took me years to get a handle on it, even after I was saved. Now it’s like all that time spent training myself to control my temper and respond to people with love is just gone.”

O’Shea said, “Only a moron wouldn’t get angry over a maniac like Caldwell.”

“Yeah,” Keren agreed. “And those reporters spend time in college learning how to annoy stories out of people. They’re masters at getting under your skin so you’ll react without thinking. I wanted to deck them myself.”

“Anger is a sin,” Paul said firmly. “Anger is rooted in hate and that’s the opposite of love. I try so hard to love the people I come in contact with at the mission. They’ve all been arrested and assaulted and ignored. Love is the only thing that has any hope of working with them.”

Keren was free of the mob of reporters now and she drove out of the parking lot, picking up speed to head back to the precinct. She saw several cars fall in line behind them. “Anger in itself isn’t a sin, Paul. Jesus got angry. Don’t forget about Him knocking over tables and driving the people selling doves out of the temple. I’ve got Him pictured as furious.”

“Jesus had one or two episodes of purely righteous anger.”

“What are you talking about?” Keren asked. “You went to Bible college, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I went to Bible college.” Paul gave her an annoyed look, like he was tired of her interfering when he was busy beating himself up.

“So was that just a name, or did you actually study the Bible?”

Paul turned on her. She smiled.

“Yes, we studied the Bible,” he growled.

Keren pulled up to a red light. “So, I remember Jesus spending half His time getting in someone’s face—always someone powerful—and telling them they were blind guides, hypocrites, fools. He got angry all the time.”

Paul gestured in front of them. “I, on the other hand, want to throw a fit every ten minutes, because I have to wait in traffic.”

“That hasn’t been my experience with you,” Keren said. “When you get angry, you’ve always had provocation.”

“Big-time,” O’Shea said.

Keren started the car moving again. “You’ve handled all this with incredible grace and Christianity.”

“Yeah,” O’Shea added. “And besides, there’s a big difference between wanting to punch some mouthy newshound in the face and actually doing it.”

Keren sensed Paul’s anger ebbing away as she opened up some space between themselves and the reporters and that ugly autopsy.

He breathed slowly and seemed to relax. Finally, he said, “Thanks. I appreciate the support. But you don’t know what churns around inside me. The anger I’m fighting is sin. I can’t let it get the best of me, and you shouldn’t encourage me to let it loose.”

Keren opened her mouth to talk about her own anger and the struggle she, and most likely every human being, had.

O’Shea butted in. “Okay, feel guilty all you want.” He reached between Keren and Paul and offered them the list of Internet companies. “But do it in your spare time. We’ll track these down online, then we’ll go kick some doors in. They mostly sound like suppliers for laboratories, although one of them might supply fish bait.”

Paul looked at the list. “Lab experiments?”

“Sure, everything from medical research to insecticide testing to high school biology class,” O’Shea said, as if he’d known it all along.

Keren said dryly, “You don’t think a biology teacher had to personally go out and catch those frogs we had to dissect, do you?”

As if she’d known it all along.

Paul tightened his grip on the list. “I hadn’t thought of that. But it shouldn’t take long to track him down. How many orders can there be?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

There were thousands.

Most of the orders were massive and had shipped to well-known companies, so they could be eliminated immediately. But Keren was relieved to find there weren’t that many suppliers. Four in the Chicago area. Far more if the lunatic Caldwell had them shipped in from out of town.

“We’re going to have to go into these places with a court order.” Keren hung up from talking to the second bug mail-order house. “We ought to be able to get to all of them this afternoon. I guess they have more than their share of trouble with animal rights activists. They’re very careful with their customer lists.”

“Animal rights extend to gnats now?” Paul asked incredulously.

“Apparently.” Keren called and set the wheels in motion for four search warrants.