John came back to the sofa, took her hand again. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry that men—especially Christian men—have mistreated you.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her gently then looked down at his hands. “I wish I could get hold of a few of them.”
“John.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Tell me why women stay with men like that. Why they go back to them.”
“I don’t know for sure, but for some it’s easier than being alone. You have someone. Or he supports you and your children. Without him, you would be on the streets. A lot of the women need help these days—a place to stay, transportation, an education, child care, food. When they don’t have that, a man—even an abusive man—looks good.”
“It’s beginning to sound like your homeless ministry.”
“Well, the abusive man or husband often does keep them from becoming homeless. That’s not a small thing, especially if they have children. And some women are kept by fear—fear of what he might do, especially if they try to leave. Women are beaten, hospitalized, even killed when they try to escape.”
John’s gaze went past her. A minute later, his expression changed; and his eyes focused on her again. “I know this is hard for you. Thank you for sharing.”
Sharee studied her hands, noting how his fingers, larger and darker than her own, surrounded hers. “No, thank you for being who you are, for not being a jerk.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. Sharee felt a lump in her throat. What was the problem? She wasn’t going to cry here, but before she could control them, tears pooled and spilled. She tried to catch hold of the emotions, tried to make sense of them.
“Hey.” He brushed the tears from her face. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.”
She pulled his head down to hers, wanting to forget everything that had happened. John’s arm slid down her back, tugging her close, meeting her kiss. A fire ignited deep inside her, the flame igniting dry timber.
Lord…
John pulled away. “Sharee…”
She drew him back. His arms tightened around her, and he groaned as he met her kiss again. Its intensity warmed and scared her.
Lord, I love him so much. I want him, and I have no control here. Please help me.
As she moved within his embrace, pain, like a bolt of lightning, shot up her back. She cried out.
His head jerked away. “What is it?”
“My back.” Her breath caught as the pain sharpened. She laid her head against the sofa, her breathing ragged. The swirling emotions, the flames that had started, died. A moment later, she started to laugh then gasped as pain shot through her again.
She giggled at his confused expression. “I think I just received an answer to prayer, but it’s not at all what I expected.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, as she pulled on her jeans, she stopped and drew a breath against the pain. Instead of leaning over to get her t-shirt, she bent her knees, and lowered herself the few inches needed to lift it from the lower drawer of the dresser. She let out a long sigh, slipped it over her head, and looked in the mirror.
You asked for help, girl. She shook her head and sent a look upwards.
Her eyes came back to the mirror, and she ran her fingers through her hair. No combing this mess. She took a pick from the dresser and picked at her mass of curls. Wild, John had said. He liked wild? She shook her head. Well, today he’d have what he liked.
As she finished her makeup, Sharee pondered the different ways that prayers are answered. She’d been saved from her own desires by a return of pain. And this morning, as if in reminder, the pain hung close to each move.
Tentative knocking came from the apartment door. Sharee rose, the tightening in her back immediate and strong. She walked to the door and glanced through the peephole. Ryann Byrd grinned at her. Sharee took a deep breath.
Sharee opened the door. Ryann, Abbey Somas, and Matthew Thornton entered.
“We’ve brought food!” Ryann’s grin stretched wide.
Sharee hugged her. No denying this teenager had been a favorite in the Bible study she’d taught two years ago. A bond had formed then that warmed her heart today. Abbey, her Goth look done to perfection, scooted past them.
“It’s good to see you all. Especially you, Ryann. Since you started college, I don’t get to see you much.”
“That’s what I told her,” Matthew slipped past, too.
Sharee smiled at the high school senior. His size and ruggedness gave him a much older look. He, like Abbey, had not reached the hugging stage yet.
“Lots of studying.” Ryann’s grimace followed a toss of her long hair. She handed Sharee a large bag. “We made the food ourselves. Didn’t we, Abbey?”
Abbey nodded and moved with quick grace into the living room, glancing around. Her all black outfit contrasted with the other girl’s multi-colored and layered tops. She slipped over to the large TV and grinned. “Hey, pretty good. When did you get this?”
“Last Christmas. Mom and Dad. Nice to have parents, huh?”
“Yeah, sometimes,” Matthew handed Sharee a second bag. He brushed blonde curly hair from his eyes and headed for the sofa, sprawling across it.
Ryann met his quick gaze before turning to Sharee. “Ms. J, how are you? We’ve heard a lot of stuff on the grapevine lately.”
Sharee lifted the bags into both arms and headed to the kitchen table. “You did, did you?” She lifted Tupperware dishes and other cookware from the bags. “Wow, you guys. Thank you lots! It smells delicious. Are you going to eat with me?”
“Naw,” Matthew said. “We made it for you. Try the chocolate chip cookies. I made those.”
She looked at each dish, then pulled the foil off a plate of cookies and brought them over. “So, Ryann, what did you hear?” She passed the cookies around.
Abbey bit one, took her phone from a small purse and began to text; but she glanced at Sharee. “We heard someone’s trying to kill you.” Her thumbs stopped. No one spoke, but three pairs of eyes focused on her.
Sharee straightened in her chair and glanced from one to the other of them. No one seemed surprised but her.
“Well, the church gossip line’s working well, isn’t it? Where did you hear that?”
They all looked away and then at each other.
“Oh, just around.” Matt pulled at the t-shirt covering his thin body, still not meeting her eyes.
Sharee assessed the situation, wondering how much she should say. “Well... you must have heard that a car almost ran me down, and I was in the hospital a few days. It happened again after church last Sunday evening.” She hesitated. All right. Lord, I am not going to lie to these kids, but you will have to take over and make good use of whatever I say.
“Someone did run me off the road.”
“But why?” Ryann asked.
“I haven't any idea.”
“I heard Mr. Jergenson talking with Pastor Alan today.” An embarrassed pause followed. “They were outside the fellowship hall, and I was inside, getting some of this stuff ready. They were talking about that guy named Dean. The one you dated.” Her eyes were a little wide.
Sharee compressed her lips. I am going to trounce them both. And they say women gossip. She picked up the plate of cookies and passed them around again. “Well, do you remember when I talked that Wednesday night to the youth group? About a year ago? I talked about abusive relationships.” She glanced at their faces. “I’m not sure who all was there. Anyway, I have to admit that a lot I talked about came from my relationship with Dean.”
“I told you.” Ryann looked around at the others. “Mr. Jergenson said Dean came here yesterday, and you had to call the police.”
Do these men ever think to see if anyone is around when they are talking?
“Well, Dean did come here yesterday. He even came to the hospital to see me when I was there. But when he showed up yesterday, he sounded angry. He scared me.
I called John, and John called the police.”
“Did he and Mr. Jergenson get into a fight?”
“No, they didn’t get into a fight. Dean was gone before he got here.”
“You don’t have to worry with Mr. Jergenson around. He’ll protect you.” Matthew voice had deepened. “He would fight him if needed.”
Sharee stared at him. Yep, that’s a guy for you. She started to smile when she realized that it was for that exact reason—for John’s protection—for which she’d called him. She gave him trouble sometimes for what she termed his overprotection. Yet, she’d called him right away when she felt threatened.
Lord, help me to appreciate what you’ve given John even as I want him to appreciate the gifts You’ve given me.
Sharee let her smile encompass them all. “Let’s talk about something else. How are things at school?”
She listened to what she knew was an abbreviated summary of tests and homework and tough teachers. In a few minutes, they turned the subject to the new things planned for the youth group.
Ryann rose when they finished. “We gotta get back. College has a lot of homework.” Her eyes went to Matthew, “Much more homework than high school.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He unfolded his body from the couch, his tone indicating they had discussed this before. “She thinks she’s hot now, going to college.” He brushed against her with his leg.
Abbey pulled the band from her long hair before running her fingers through it but didn’t rise.
“Come on, Ab, we’ve got to go.”
The teen pocketed her phone and stood. “Well, Ms. J, I’m glad you’re okay. You and Mr. J set a date yet?”
Startled remembrance went through her. What was wrong with them? They hadn’t. “You know what, we haven’t. But it’s going to be soon, I think.”
“How soon?”
“In about three months.”
The three of them looked at each other, and she saw slow smiles pull each face.
Abbey grabbed Ryann. “Well, okay, let’s go. Will that car of yours get us home?”
“Hey,” Ryann pulled the keys from her jeans. “It got you here, didn’t it?” They went out the door elbowing each other, laughing.
“Matthew,” Sharee called after them. He came back as the others went to the car.
“Yeah?”
“You and Ryann going out?”
His eyes seem to shut down, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yeah.”
Sharee nodded. “Okay. I just wondered.” Let it go, she told herself, let it go.
“Yeah, I know. Everybody’s against it. Mom and Dad have been all over me.”
“Matt, it’s not that everybody is against it…it’s just…”
“Yeah, she’s older and she has a rep. I know all that.” His voice was a mixture of anger and resignation.
“The only rep she has with me is a good one. She’s always trying to help people. Just like bringing the food over for me. Just treat her with the respect that she deserves.”
“I do. Other people don’t.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I care for you both.”
Something moved across his face. The line of his mouth tightened. “Everybody is so interested in us. But what about my mom? What about that guy that keeps calling her?”
“Huh?”
“She thinks we don’t know because we’re kids. But we’re not blind. We hear things. We see things. My dad’s the one that’s blind. I ought to wake him up.”
“Ted is calling your mom?”
“Yeah, and I heard that Pastor Alan asked him to leave the church.”
Lord, how do they know everything?
“And yet,” Matthew continued, “He called my mom again. I heard her talking to him.” Raw pain filled his voice.
Sharee shoved a curl from her face. Why is it adults think their children are deaf and blind? “Matthew, I don’t know what to say.”
He spun away from her, “Well, why don’t you say something to my mom?” He turned at the door. “And you know what? Ryann and I both believe what Mr. Jergenson said. Despite what happened before. So you can tell everybody that they ain’t got nothing to worry about!”
***
The door didn’t slam after him, but she felt sure that’s what he wanted. One thought after another flooded her mind. A minute later, she walked to the door and slid the locks, set the bolts. She went back to the couch, curled up, and began to pray.
A few minutes later, she tugged a blank sheet of paper from her printer and began to mentally review the times and dates of the accidents, including Dean’s appearance at the hospital and then again at her apartment. She jotted down the times and then wrote a list of suspects—Dean, Ted, George’s friends, and a question mark for any persons unknown.
Another list included motives. Greed, passion, self-preservation… No one could think they had any money, could they? Nothing worth killing for, anyway. Could they, in any way, be stopping someone else from obtaining money? No inheritance. Both their parents were alive. What about passion? That would include jealousy, revenge, hate, and other things. Her mind shifted to Ted. She had pointed out that his relationship with Marci was wrong, and he resented that. He had threatened Pastor Alan and the church. She had to consider him a serious threat. And what about Dean? She knew his anger and his jealousy from the past. A definite threat. And George's friends? She couldn't dismiss them.
Her head ached. She rubbed her forehead with both hands. Self-preservation? Were she and John a threat to anyone? How could they be? Something they didn't know? After a few minutes, she jotted down another question mark for unknown motives.
She threw the pen down, went to get an ice pack, and lay down on the couch. She let out a long breath, closing her eyes. The phone rang.
Groaning, she reached for her cell, glanced at the screen. The Sheriff’s Department? “Hello?”
“Ms. Jones?”
“Yes.”
“This is Detective Shepherd. How are you doing today?”
“Good today.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I talked with the officer who was there yesterday. I thought it might be a good idea for us to meet—for coffee or something—so I could hear your story first hand.”
“If you’ve read the other report, perhaps you know I was in the hospital for a few days?”
“Yes.”
“I’m supposed to be resting and icing my back, and I’ve been up a lot today already. I know that sounds like an invalid, but could we do this by phone?”
“I like doing a face-to-face, but if you want, I’ll get a few things down today. Can I give you a call tomorrow and see how you’re feeling?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. When Strasburg came to the hospital, was that the first time you’d seen or heard from him since the restraining order?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost two years. A little over a year since it was in effect. I don’t see why after all this time…” She let it trail off.
“How long have you and John Jergenson been engaged?”
“A week.”
“Was there an announcement in the paper?”
“No.”
“Who knew about the engagement?
“No one that I know of. I mean, John told my parents at the hospital, but no one else knew until we told my friend Lynn. Dean came to the hospital before that.”
“Strasburg came to the hospital before anyone knew about your engagement?”
“Yes, well…John sent the engagement ring from Indonesia to a friend.”
“The friend’s name?”
“Bruce Tomlin. But he’s in a wheelchair, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with him.”
“I’ll check with him. He might have mentioned it to someone else.”
“You think Dean heard about it and attacked John?”
“Let’s just say we need to check all possibilities. Then I might have a talk with Mr.
Strasburg. What about your work?”
“My work?”
“Yes. Is there anyone at your work who might have something against you? Is there anyone…that you have been involved with or anyone who might think there is some kind of relationship between you and him? I am talking about other employees or clients.”
“Employees?”
“Or clients. Is there anyone or anything you can think of? Take your time.”
“I’ve worked there for eight years.” Sharee threw her mind back and brought it forward. “No relationship stuff. There’s always someone along the way who doesn’t think we do enough for them. Right now, though, I only remember one over-the-top person. He had definite expectations that we could not meet.”
“Who was this?”
“A family came in—man, wife, two kids. He became upset because…well, because he wanted more than we could give him. They were living in their car at the time. I was a first contact, and he was upset that I couldn’t find a place for them right away, a place for free, until he could get a job. A very loud, angry person.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not that I remember. We keep files at Downtown Ministries. That would be in it if he did.”
“When was this?”
About two months ago.”
“Do you remember the name?”
“Paul…Paul Jenkins.” Her work? Why hadn’t she thought of that? She stood up, went to the kitchen table, and pulled over her list of suspects.
“Okay.”
“Detective?”
“Yes. I’ve been getting anonymous phone calls for about a month or longer.”
The tone of the questions changed as he took in this new information. It was almost twenty minutes later when she hung up.
She made a few notes before resting on the sofa again. If Dean knew about the engagement before she did, or if Paul Jenkins had decided to get even with her for some imagined offense then either could have attacked John. She bit her lip. If that was the case, she had increased the danger to him by accepting his proposal.
No wonder John had thought about breaking their engagement after talking with his neighbor George. She felt the same way now.
And what about George’s friends? Or Ted? Perhaps whoever attacked John was different from the person who attacked her.
As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 15
