Silence reigned for several seconds and they all stared at him.
“Wow. You are having quite the day,” Geanie finally said.
“We all are,” Cindy muttered, glancing at Jeremiah.
“Congratulations to Traci. If you need to talk or have questions, I’m here,” Joseph said. “Now, what’s this about the synagogue?”
~
An hour later they decided to call it a night. They were all tired and nothing more was going to get done or even decided at that point. Jeremiah dropped Cindy back at her house before heading home. She was really looking forward to the day when that wasn’t the case.
Blackie was already asleep in the middle of the bed and she thought about waking him up. He was snoring and clearly in the middle of some kind of kitty dream with his little paws waving about. Ultimately, she crawled into bed gingerly so she wouldn’t disturb him.
She wasn’t looking forward to the chaos the morning was going to bring but she still fell asleep in just a few minutes.
She awakened suddenly, heart pounding. Blackie was standing, back arched as he stared toward her closed bedroom door. Her breath caught in her throat as a feeling of dread settled upon her. She had no idea what had woken her, but she was sure that something was very, very wrong.
She stared intently at the closed bedroom door, thinking of her conversation with Jeremiah earlier. For the first time in her life she wished she’d slept with the door open. That way she could see if there was anyone lurking just outside her room. And really, a closed door wouldn’t stop anyone from getting to her. It just rendered her blind.
She got up as quietly as she could and crossed to the door. She put her ear against it and closed her eyes, straining to try and hear whatever might be happening on the other side. Blackie jumped off the bed and joined her at the door, leaning against her ankles.
She couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of her own heart which she’d become painfully aware of. Her mouth had gone completely dry and sweat beaded on her forehead.
She grasped the doorknob in her hand as she contemplated opening the door just enough to be able to peer out. If someone was out there, though, they might see the motion and know she was awake.
She moved swiftly back to the bed and picked up her phone from the nightstand. She texted Jeremiah, praying that he would hear the notification.
I think someone might be in my house.
She held her breath, waiting for a response. She didn’t want to have to make a phone call, because she didn’t want whoever might be out there to hear her speaking.
At last a reply came in.
Coming.
That was it, just the one word. She let out the breath she’d been holding. She calmed slightly. Maybe she should call 911, but she didn’t want to do that until she knew for sure that there was an intruder and that she and Blackie weren’t just being jumpy.
She sat there, clutching the phone and staring at her alarm clock. It was five minutes past two. Even speeding and with the streets mostly empty at this time of night it would still take Jeremiah several minutes to get to the house.
Still clutching the phone, she got back up and returned to the door. She tried listening again for any sound. For just a moment she thought she heard a whisper of something, but couldn’t be sure.
Blackie yowled loudly, startling her. She jumped, every muscle tensing even harder. She looked down at him and he stared up at her.
“Ssh,” she whispered.
He yowled again and started scratching the door.
She bent down and picked him up, holding him close. He struggled in her arms, wanting down. He meowed again, even louder than she would have thought possible.
She put him down and he immediately began scratching at the door again. She closed her eyes and prayed as hard as she could that there was nothing outside and that they would be safe. She grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it.
She opened her eyes, squinting, struggling to see in the darkness as she eased the door open a crack. Blackie pushed his head between the door and the frame, trying to force his way out. She finally opened the door just enough for him to squeeze through.
He ran into the darkness and she lost him in an instant. Fear squeezed her chest and she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. She stared into the darkness, trying to see or hear anything that might be out there.
A slight rustling sound came to her, but she knew it could well be Blackie making his way through the house or even going to his food bowl or litter box.
Wait for Jeremiah, she told herself. The words echoed around in her mind as her hands began to shake.
But somehow she was opening the door wider. She screamed at herself to stop, but it was as though an invisible force was compelling her. She needed to know if she was crazy or if there was a threat to her and to Blackie.
And to Jeremiah. What if he gets here and someone is waiting for him?
She didn’t know where the thought came from, but it terrified her. She’d come too close to losing him too many times and the last time was fresh in her mind. If there was danger and she could warn him ahead of time, it could make all the difference.
Her head told her that she was being an idiot. Jeremiah was trained for this kind of thing. There was no way that he’d be caught off guard.
Her heart was saying something else, though. It was afraid of losing him. She also knew that fear for her might make him reckless. She couldn’t risk that.
She managed to slip out of the room, and she closed the door behind her so that whoever was in the house might think she was still asleep. She padded down the hall as silently as she could until she could see into the family room. She stood, hugging the wall as she tried to probe the shadows with her eyes.
Just calm down. Think about where someone could hide if they wanted to, she told herself.
The hair raised on the back of her neck and she turned her head quickly to make sure that there was no one coming down the hall from one of the other rooms. There was no one there.
She turned back to the family room and forced herself to move forward, sliding one foot in front of the other. She mentally inventoried the room.
There’s not enough space between the couch and the wall for anyone to hide. I can see under the coffee table and there’s no one there. She focused in on the chairs in the room, trying to decide if they were big enough to be concealing a person hiding behind them. They were fairly new. She had gotten them to replace the chairs she had gotten rid of after the police invaded the house and an assassin had killed her former coworker while he was sitting in one of them.
Her stomach twisted in knots and she tasted bile in her mouth as those events flashed back through her mind. She tried to shove the memories back down to where she tried to keep all the terrifying things locked up in her mind. They didn’t want to go, though. They were vivid, almost replaying before her mind’s eye. She even smelled blood.
She wrapped the fingers of her free hand around the top edge of the couch and tried to steady herself. It was just a memory after all. It couldn’t hurt her.
But there might be someone here who could, she reminded herself.
The nightmare images faded from her brain.
But the smell of blood remained.
In horror she realized that was real and not a phantom memory. There was blood somewhere, a lot of it. Where could it possibly be coming from?
She stared wildly around the room, caution giving way to panic. She stepped forward and felt something wet and cold beneath her left foot. She jumped back with a shriek. She flailed wildly for a moment before her fingers brushed the switch on the wall and light exploded all around her.
She stared down at the wet spot on the carpet next to the coffee table. A water glass lay next to it.
Blackie must have knocked it over, she realized, relief flooding her as she realized that the wet spot was just water.
She looked aro
und the room. In the bright light there was nowhere for anyone to hide. She was alone in the room.
She forced herself to take a deep breath. No one had run to her or away from her when the lights went on. She was almost certainly alone.
But the smell of blood still filled her nostrils. Had Blackie hurt himself? She stooped to pick up the water glass, checking to make sure it wasn’t broken. It seemed intact.
Her phone vibrated in her hand, startling her. She quickly looked down and saw a new text from Jeremiah.
I’m here.
She quickly texted back.
She moved toward the front door but stopped when her phone rang. It was Jeremiah.
Puzzled, she answered.
“I’m sorry I dragged you out of bed. I’m not sure what woke me. I’m unlocking the door in a second.”
When Jeremiah spoke his accent was thick. “Don’t! Cindy, whatever you do, don’t come out here.”
9
“Why, what is it?” Cindy asked, fear filling her voice.
Jeremiah stood on her front lawn and struggled to find something to tell her. “It’s… somebody was sending a message,” he said at last. “I’m calling the police and then I’ll be inside in a minute.”
“No! The last time police came to my house-”
“I’ll call Mark or Liam,” Jeremiah said, cutting her off.
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you in a minute.”
He ended the call, then after a moment’s hesitation called Liam.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” the cop asked when he picked up.
“We’ve got a problem at Cindy’s house.”
“Did you call Mark?”
“No,” Jeremiah said. “I think he’s had enough for one day.”
It was true. Mark had seemed completely overwhelmed when they were all at Joseph and Geanie’s house earlier. There was also the fact that he wasn’t really in the mood to see Mark after their conversation earlier at the synagogue.
“I’ll be right over. Do you need me to bring backup?”
“Yeah, but Cindy’s jumpy about having the cops at her house again. Make sure you get here first.”
“Understood. What exactly are we looking at?”
Jeremiah stared at the front of Cindy’s house. “A hate crime.”
“What the hell?” Liam burst out. “A hate crime at Cindy’s? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said grimly before ending the call and shoving the phone in his pocket.
Somebody had painted words on Cindy’s house. He read them again, clenching his fists as he did so.
JEW LOVER BEWARE.
It was written in blood.
~
Cindy flew into Jeremiah’s arms when he came into the house.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice low and pained.
“What is it?” she asked.
He was silent.
“Please. I’ve been imagining the worst,” she said, pulling away so that she could look at him.
“Someone graffitied the house,” he said.
She blinked in surprise.
“Graffiti? Is it some kind of prank? I know the youth group kids have toilet papered Dave’s house before, but they’ve never written anything on it.”
“This wasn’t youth group kids and it wasn’t a prank.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
The look on his face frightened her. She’d only seen him like that a couple of times and she remembered Marie’s warning from earlier.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I called Liam. He should be here shortly,” Jeremiah said, not answering her question.
“What does it say?” she asked.
He just shook his head.
She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell her. She let go of him and pushed past him toward the front door.
“Cindy, don’t!” he said, urgency in his voice.
“Is there anyone out there?” she demanded.
“No.”
“Then I’m going to see what they painted on my house,” she said.
She turned on the porch light, threw open the door, and walked outside. The smell of blood hit her harder and she held her breath as she turned and tried to see her house.
The letters were each at least three feet tall. She backed up until she could see the entire front of the house. She stared in shock when she was able to read the message.
Jeremiah closed the front door and joined her on the lawn.
“Jew lover beware? What does that mean?” she asked, hating that her voice had started to shake.
“Someone doesn’t like that you’re fraternizing with my kind,” he said bitterly.
“‘Your kind’? What is that supposed to mean?”
He pointed to the writing. “I think they made that pretty clear.”
“This is insane! Who talks like that? Who thinks like that?” she asked, completely appalled and shocked.
“Unfortunately, a lot of people.”
“No. No. This is not 1930s Germany,” Cindy said, unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes.
Headlights flashed as a car turned onto the street. She tensed as she glanced toward it. Moments later it was slowing down and it stopped in front of her house. She recognized Liam’s car a moment before the detective got out of it. He came to stand beside them and slowly shook his head as he read the message.
“Liam, tell Jeremiah this kind of thing just doesn’t happen in present day America.”
“I wish I could,” he said quietly. “Unfortunately, I’d be lying. There’s over a hundred anti-Jewish hate groups in this country.”
“Six in California alone last I checked,” Jeremiah said.
Cindy felt like she was going to be sick. “Do you think whoever is behind the fires did this?”
“That’s a pretty safe bet in my book. After all, if it was someone who knew you, they had months and months to be upset about you being engaged to Jeremiah. I think you caught the attention of the arsonist today when you foiled his plan.”
“But how did he know I wasn’t Jewish? I mean, I could have been a member of that congregation,” Cindy said.
Jeremiah shot a look at Liam and shook his head.
Liam looked at Cindy with compassion in his gaze. “He probably followed you and saw that you worked at the Presbyterian church,” he said. “Then later he followed you home.”
“But I didn’t go straight home from church. I went to Mark and Traci’s. Then I went to Jeremiah’s synagogue before going home.”
“He was probably watching the synagogue when you got back,” Liam said.
Jeremiah was clenching and unclenching his fists and looked like he desperately wanted to take something apart with his bare hands.
Cindy shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Great, a stalker,” she murmured.
“It wouldn’t be your first,” Liam said.
“You know, you’re usually a lot more comforting than this,” Cindy snapped. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“No need to apologize. You’re right. I’m also usually a lot more awake when we’re interacting.”
Headlights flashed and moments later more police officers arrived. Cindy winced, realizing that it was unavoidable. She also hoped it didn’t wake up the entire neighborhood.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” Jeremiah said.
Cindy let him lead her back into the house. Once inside she went to the bedroom where she quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt before joining him and Liam in the family room. Jeremiah handed her a cup of tea and she took it with a sigh. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
~
Mark woke with a shout. He was drenched in sweat and shaking from the nightmare he’d just had.
“What was it?” Traci asked groggily.
“Nightmare.”
“No, rea
lly?” she asked sarcastically.
“It was bad,” he said.
Traci sat up and looked at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He nodded. Normally he would have said no and sent her back to sleep, but this one unnerved him. He wasn’t ready to be alone with his thoughts and he wasn’t ready to try going back to sleep.
“I dreamed as I was at the old folks’ home.”
“The one Darren’s adopted mom works at?” Traci asked.
“Yeah. I was talking to Darren.”
“That’s weird. You’ve never actually talked to him, right?”
“That’s right,” Mark affirmed. “We were actually playing chess and we were talking.”
“About what?”
“I’m not sure. Stuff. Life. I don’t know. It’s not important. I just know that we were playing the game. I lost. I said, ‘I lost’. Then he looked at me, really intense, like he was looking into my soul or something. Then he said, ‘You always lose’. And suddenly I knew he wasn’t just talking about chess. I just stared at him and he was smiling in that really maddening way Paul used to when he had really beaten me good at something. Then before I could say anything this giant of a guy came out of nowhere. He threw a hood over Darren’s head and picked him up like he was a doll. He carried him off.”
“He kidnapped Darren?”
“Yes. And I tried to get up and follow, but I couldn’t.”
“What did the guy look like?” Traci asked.
“I couldn’t see his face. It was in shadows. There was something terrible about it, though.”
“It sounds like you’re afraid that something’s going to happen to Darren.”
“I am,” Mark admitted.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t shake the feeling that whoever killed his mother knows about him.”
“If that’s true, then why haven’t they done something to him before now?” Traci asked.
“I don’t know. I think that’s what’s got me worried. I keep feeling like something’s going to happen to him, but at the same time it’s like if it was going to happen it should have happened already.”
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