"American barbecue," Mark said with a grin. "Yum."
"See? Mark's good with it." She slipped on her glasses, and the shape of them completely obscured the shape of her face. She tapped the lens. "No prescription. Just clear."
James kissed Melody's hand. "If you're sure."
People dining in the restaurant looked at Melody several times, but as she predicted, no one approached them. The beef ribs were tender and juicy, and they ate potato salad and drank iced tea that tasted approximately as sweet as maple syrup while they tried to talk above the din. James felt completely relaxed, and realized that this was the first Christmas Eve in a long time that he didn't feel a looming depression. He worried for Mark, though. He didn't want his personal happiness adding to his friend's sorrow.
"I know this didn't turn into the trip you expected," he said at one point.
Mark smiled and swirled the ice in his glass. "This has been the best Christmas I've had in years. Thank you for letting me be a part of it."
James nodded. "I had worried —"
"Brother," Mark said as he cut him off, "you know as well as I that life goes on despite the big hole in our lives that the death of a spouse brings. Do you even remember when we first met? You were crushed, sinking in despair, but reaching out to God to save you. I was the same and couldn't figure out why God had put a broken man in my path when I was so broken myself. But God in all His wisdom knew that the two of us would come together and heal together, strengthen each other with a bond of brotherly love."
He reached across the table and took James' hand in one hand and Melody's in the other. The couple had already been holding hands, and now the trio formed a circle. "Now look at you. Your love, your peace — those things give me a renewed spirit, encourage me for what God might hold in store for me in my future."
Melody blinked back tears. "You are a wonderful man, Mark. I believe that there is someone really special out there for you."
Mark squeezed their hands and released them, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe. Maybe not. There was someone tremendously special. Ah, my sweet Laney was so very, very special. I had special until sickness took it away. But, I do now know that it is possible to love so deeply again."
He picked up a French fry and popped it into his mouth. After he washed it down with tea, he said, "What you did today was fantastic. I hope you inspire others to follow your example."
Melody nodded. "I'm embarrassed to say that charity work was my mother's forte. She didn't do it for love, though. She did it for glory. I think that made me turn away from the concept. But, when I found out about the home, I didn't think twice about it. As I worked out the details and ordered the clothes and toys, I feel ashamed about all of these years I simply didn't do anything. I intend to make sure that never happens again." She turned to James and smiled, feeling a glow of love for her husband that just seemed to keep getting bigger and stronger. "Did you like your present?"
James opened a wet wipe to clean the barbecue sauce from his fingers. "I loved my present." He leaned forward and ran a finger down her cheek. "And I love you. Thank you."
"It will be hard to top next year," she said with a smile.
He laughed. "You know the best thing about next year?"
Melody cocked her head and said, "What?"
"We will be celebrating our first anniversary and the birth of Christ at the same time. I don't think a gift could top that."
Melody grinned. "Do you want to go to church? I think there's a service at seven."
After glancing at his watch, he nodded. "I think that's a great idea. If we leave now, we'll might make it a few minutes early." He looked at Mark. "You?"
"Absolutely." The two men stood. James held Melody's chair while she followed. "It's always nice to sit in the pew while someone else does all the speaking."
James reached for the bill, but Melody snatched it up. She went to the register by the door and pulled out her own credit card. The waitress ran it without looking at the imprint, and when Melody signed it, she wrote with a flourish, "Thank you. Merry Christmas. Melody Mason." She added a hundred-dollar tip, then grabbed James' hand and pulled him from the restaurant. She laughed and looked behind her as the waitress looked at the receipt. "Hurry up, Mark!"
They piled into James' car, Mark taking the back seat. As James peeled out of the parking lot, he said with a laugh, "Why in the world did you do that?"
"Why not?" She leaned her head to rest it on his shoulder. "Did you get me a Christmas present?"
"Of course," he said as he took her hand and laced his fingers through hers, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.
With a silly grin on her face, she reached back and brought the seat belt forward, latching it.
¯¯¯¯
CHAPTER 19
MELODY giggled as James opened the hotel room door. They'd gone to Christmas Eve services, then dropped Mark off at James' apartment.
"We made that waitress' night," she said as she breezed into the room.
"You're an awful lot of fun, you know?" James said, grabbing her by the hand and whirling her around and into his arms. He kissed her long and slow. As her thoughts melted and turned into one beautiful melody, she let her purse slip from her hand. James pushed the jacket off her shoulders. As soon as her arms were free again, she wrapped them around her husband's neck.
He cupped her cheeks with his hands and backed her into the bedroom, kissing her the entire time. Her head spun. She felt the bed hit the back of her legs seconds before she fell back against the mattress.
"Ouch!" She said. She tore her mouth from his and put a hand on his chest. "Something poked me." Pushing against his chest, she lifted her shoulder off of the bed. Something sharp dug into the skin on her shoulder.
"What?" James moved aside as she sat up and felt behind her. Nothing protruded out of her shoulder, but the look on James' face as he looked on the bed scared her.
"What is it?"
She whirled around and felt her blood turn to ice. A white rose lay on the bed, slightly crushed, a note attached to it. With a shaking hand, she reached forward to pick it up, but James stopped her. "Don't touch it." He took her hand and pulled her off of the bed while he pulled his phone out of his pocket like drawing a gun. From memory, he dialed Roberts' phone number. He initiated the call, ignoring the late hour on Christmas-Eve. "Roberts, James Montgomery. We got a gift today." He held Melody's hand and led her from the bedroom. "I'm at the Viscolli downtown, room 1216." He sat in the chair and pulled Melody into his lap. "Oh? I am very sorry to interrupt your party. Yes. Great. See you in ten."
Melody listened to his conversation with half an ear. How had he gotten in? "Can we move out of here and into your apartment?"
"Sure. I'll get Mark a room. I think it's a good idea." While he spoke he ran his hands soothingly over her back. His voice washed over her, calming her. In his arms, close to him, she felt safe. She knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her. "Roberts said the department is having a party across the street at Trader Vic's. He also told me he was bored to tears and glad I called."
"I don't understand what's happening," she said after several minutes.
"Neither do I. I feel like there's a piece of information missing." He squeezed her tight and shifted out from under her to stand. "It's like I'm trying to solve the puzzle, but all the pieces don't seem to match and I don't know what the final picture is supposed to look like." He scooped his glasses off of the end table by the couch and slipped them on.
Melody rubbed her arms. "I'll get some coffee going," she said, moving into the kitchen area.
As the coffee brewed, a sharp rap of knuckles on the door startled her. James went to answer it, looking through the peephole before opening the door to Detectives Suarez and Roberts.
Despite her fear and anxiety, years of politeness browbeaten into her had Melody smiling and stepping forward. "Detectives. So good of you to come so late on Christmas Eve."
"Ma'am," Roberts said, taking her
hand. "We were across the street. It's really no trouble at all. We hear that congratulations are in order."
Despite the fear and anxiety, she smiled. "Thank you." Melody shook his hand and then turned to Suarez. "And thank you all the same for coming. James insisted on calling you."
"He was right." Suarez pulled out his ever present notepad. "What happened tonight?"
"We were out all day," Melody started.
James interjected. "We left around nine-thirty and returned right before I called you."
"When we came back, there was a rose on the bed with a note." She rubbed her shoulder. "I landed on it and it poked me."
Suarez cleared his throat. "Landed on it?"
As heat flushed her cheeks, James explained, "We, ah, didn't see it until a thorn poked her."
Melody gripped her hands together. "We didn't touch it. It's on the bed." She gestured with her chin. "In there."
Roberts went into the bedroom and returned, gingerly holding the rose with a gloved hand. He set it on the table and gently opened the paper attached to the stem.
A ring fell out. He picked it up and held it up. "Is this significant?"
Memories flashed across her mind, of Richard kneeling on one knee on a busy Atlanta sidewalk, proposing to her without a ring. She remembered Richard slipping that ring on her finger after they picked it out and she paid for it. She had felt so special and so happy. Certainly, she had fancied herself in love with him. Then she remembered the terrible feeling of utter betrayal when she took the ring off and gave it to the airline attendant on what should have been her wedding day. "That was the engagement ring Richard Johnson recovered from the Atlanta airport four years ago," she said, barely above a whisper. "I gave it to an airline attendant at the airport right before flying to London. At some point that week, he must have shown up at the airport and claimed it."
Roberts nodded and unfolded the paper. It was a printout of a computer screenshot of a news story about Melody and James' marriage. The news screen was frozen on the photo of Melody kissing James outside of the children's home. In angry, black letters, he had written:
REMEMBER WHAT I SAID WOULD HAPPEN TO YOU IF YOU EVER FLAUNTED HIM IN MY FACE AGAIN?
Melody remembered lying on that driveway, fading in and out as Richard kicked her over and over again. Don't ever flaunt your lover in my face again, or you won't live long enough to suffer.
That was what he'd said. With a gasp, she covered her mouth. Sobs felt like they would burst out of her chest. "Why?" She wailed. "Why is this happening? What does he want?"
Her knees felt like rubber. She fell onto the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, getting into as tight of a ball as she could get. Cold shivers, deep bone cold shivers ran through her so that she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She rested her forehead against her knees and just started praying, a whispered prayer that barely had any words that made sense to her, a pleading prayer for protection, courage, strength, understanding.
She vaguely heard James speak more to the detectives, vaguely heard them say their good-byes. James sat next to her when they were gone and she shifted so that she curled up against him. The knees of her jeans were wet from her tears.
After several minutes of silence, James said, "I think you should postpone your tour."
Defensiveness sprang up from some unknown place inside. She pushed away and sat up, scrubbing her hands against her face to try to get rid of the tears. "I'm not postponing my tour."
"I really think you should."
Melody pushed off of the couch and stood, rounding to face him. "I really think it isn't up to you."
James raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I beg to differ."
Her back straightened so quickly she thought her spine would crack like a whip. "So that's it, huh? Married two days and you suddenly get to dictate what I can and can't do? Let me tell you something, husband, I decide what Melody Mason is going to do." She stuck her thumb in her chest. "Me and no one else. You have no possible idea what goes into planning and arranging a tour, or you wouldn't be so blasé about postponing it."
"So it's Melody Mason, now, not Melody Montgomery like a few minutes ago?"
"My name is a brand, James. You know what I mean."
"I'll tell you what I know. I know that a stalker is out there threatening Melody Mason Montgomery. Someone who threatened you with death, and alluded to having something to do with Angela's death. Therefore, I get to have a say in your actions. That's what I know." James stood so that they were face-to-face.
"If you really believe that," she waved her left hand in his face, showing him her ring, "then we seriously need to rethink this." Marching over to the table, she scooped up his keys. "I'm taking your car. See you later."
"Where are you going?" He was right behind her and grabbed her wrist, whirling her around before she could get to the door.
"Let me go," she said, ripping her hand free. "I can't stand to be here where he's been."
"Then I'll drive you."
"No. I'll send Kurt with it tomorrow. I love you. Merry Christmas." She slammed the door in his face and rushed down the hall, eternally grateful when the elevator doors opened right away.
¯¯¯¯
JAMES sent Kurt a text the second Melody left. Thirty minutes later, his friend replied that she'd arrived safely.
As soon as he knew she was safe at Morgan's house, he relaxed. A little. He didn't really understand what just happened, but somehow, the rug had suddenly been ripped out from under his perfectly steady feet.
He felt a little panicked, like he knew he needed to fix this but he didn't know how to even start. For a moment, he considered getting a cab and going to his apartment. But, Mark was there and he had no desire to face him after that beautiful speech about his marriage and love.
He wanted to throw something, but reined in the unexpected temper that surfaced, knowing most of the negative feelings had to do with circumstance rather than Melody. In all honesty, he was scared. Scared out of his mind that this madman would get to her and he wouldn't be able to protect her. He would kill her just as surely as he had killed Angela.
Fear. Fear paralyzed men, made them weak, useless. James froze in the midst of pacing the length of the room and thought for a moment, mentally thumbing through the verses in the Bible that dealt with fear. "Fear not." "Do not be afraid." "God has not called us to have a spirit of fear." "You are my strong tower. Whom shall I fear?"
Humbled, he sat down on the couch, took his glasses off, and pressed his palms against his eyes. How could he have been played so effortlessly? God constantly spoke about not being afraid, and yet here he was, pushing away his wife, his lover, the other part of his one, because he felt afraid of what a mere man might do.
He turned and slid off the couch, landing on his knees. "Dear God," he began, "I'm sorry I reacted with fear and without prayer. Please forgive me…"
At some point someone knocking on the door broke him out of his prayer. Momentarily disoriented, he looked around and found his glasses under the coffee table. He slipped them on as he went to the door. When he opened it, he felt astonished to find Kurt on the threshold.
"I brought your car," Kurt said, holding out the keys.
"Thanks." James stepped back and held the door wider. "Is she okay?"
"She is not really okay, no." Kurt came in and went to the kitchen and laid a hand against the cold coffee pot. He dug around in the cupboards until he came across the makings for coffee. "She's terrified, emotional, and very worried about you."
"Interesting." James scrolled through the messages on his phone while Kurt made coffee.
"Is it?" While the coffee brewed, Kurt said, "There's something about Melly you might not have picked up on yet."
James felt his lips thin. "I'm sure there's a lot about her I don't yet know."
"No doubt. But this is something that you really need to be aware of."
"What's that?" James se
nt Rebecca a reply to a text she'd sent him two days ago, then remembered that it was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and immediately replied again to tell her not to worry about it. He put his phone on the counter and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard.
"Melly's mother was a heartless, controlling woman."
James turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "And?"
"And, I'm not exaggerating when I say 'heartless'."
"What are you talking about?"
"She controlled every single movement those two girls made, everything they consumed, every emotion they publicly exhibited, everything they learned … everything. They did nothing without her express permission and criticism or approval, and they suffered terrible consequences if they did not comply."
James splashed coffee as he poured it into the cups. He grabbed a napkin from the coffee service and wiped the counter as he handed Kurt his cup. "Terrible consequences? What? Were they beaten?"
Kurt shrugged. "Only to an extent. She played mind games with them, locking them in their rooms, withholding food, taking away anything they considered precious. As long as they complied, they had peace. The second there was a perceived sidestep, she came down on them hard and without remorse."
James silently considered this information and when he had taken it in, said. "I understand."
"I thought you would." Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket and called for a taxi. When he hung up, he said. "Melody's band comes in town tomorrow evening to start getting ready for their tour that kicks off next week. That will take her away for nine or ten months. You've only seen her while she's been on vacation, and other than working out a few times a week to get ready for her dances, she's taken a complete break. Once her band is here, she will no longer be Melly Montgomery. She'll be Melody Mason. There's a reason she shot to the top as fast as she did, and the fact that she can sing like no one else on earth is only part of it. That woman is a workhorse that makes you look like some lazy fisherman living in Iowa drawing unemployment. She will eat, sleep, and breathe the branded commercial success that is known in Nashville as Melody Mason, Inc. On top of that, she's going to be on tour. If you don't fix this now, you probably won't have a chance any time soon."
A Melody for James (Christian Suspense) Page 18
