“You’re gonna do great. We’ll all be there with you.”
“Men in Black, we got you covered,” said Stapp with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“What kills me is a guy like this gets in a position of power without anybody knowing who he really is.” Osborn listened to the tape. “What a creep.”
“It happens all the time.” Owen looked at the young agent, cynicism coloring his expression. “I had firsthand experience growing up with the ultimate heroic father, husband, lawman. Selfishness took over and he wouldn’t turn back to God. Ruined his life.”
“And lots of others.” Jack met Owen’s eyes. “But God can do His will and bring good out of the worst situations. Even this one.” He looked at Benny. “You believe that, Benny?”
“I do. I’ve seen it before.” She wanted to get up and go to Owen. He was clearly struggling to reconcile himself with what she had to do. But she had to leave him alone to wrestle this out with God. “I can trust the Lord to do what’s best for me.”
Owen stared at her, the connection between them arcing like an electrical current. She didn’t have to physically touch him; he knew her heart.
Wednesday morning, Benny woke up in the hotel room with a start. She’d been dreaming all night.
Nightmares about the little attic room at Ladonna’s house. Spiders building webs across the ceiling. The lumpy futon on the floor and the pitiful stack of Bibles in the corner.
The bars she used to frequent, scouting out tricks.
Ladonna’s ravaged, manipulative face and the little knife she kept in her pocket to keep the girls in line.
Sweating, she threw back the sheet and hurried for the shower. She was supposed to meet the FBI agents downstairs at eight. They were going to go over her instructions one more time and fix her up with the wire.
Maybe Owen would pray with her before she went to the park.
Dressed in Isabel’s sundress, which she’d insisted on giving her, she walked into the breakfast lounge. As if her thinking about him had conjured him up, Owen sat at a little table by the window, reading the paper. His eyes looked glassy.
She met his gaze for a second, then fixed herself a cup of orange juice before approaching him. She didn’t feel like eating.
“Want some company?”
Owen put the paper on a nearby table and sighed. “Sure.”
“Did you sleep last night?”
“Not much. You?”
She sipped her juice. “A little. Had nightmares.”
“You don’t have to do this, Bernadette.”
“Owen, don’t.”
“All right.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve been praying for you all night.”
“That’s good. Will you pray with me now?”
“If you want me to.” He looked around. “We’d better stay here in the open.”
Disappointed, she bowed her head. “Okay. You lead.”
Wearing a University of Memphis baseball cap and jacket, a camo T-shirt and disreputable jeans, Owen waited with another undercover agent inside the ticket booth of the Overton Park Zoo. On a beautiful spring day in the middle of the week, there was nobody here but day-care tour groups and a few senior citizens with season passes. He hoped they’d be able to keep civilians out of the action.
Through Osborn’s binoculars, he watched Bernadette get out of the little white rental car in the parking lot. All alone. In the yellow sundress and denim jacket, with her hair twisted into a conservative knot at the back of her head, she looked beautiful and vulnerable.
Why did I let her do this? Lord, if we ever get married…
If they got through this and got married, she’d have him wrapped around her finger. She could do whatever she wanted and he’d kiss her feet.
The thought almost made him smile.
Not if they got married. When.
But his stomach still roiled as if he were on a ship in a high storm. What if Grenville had a hit man somewhere and Johnny’s guys didn’t find him? What if the snake somehow slithered out of the trap without incriminating himself? What if Bernadette let something slip and Grenville discovered there was no tape?
They’d be right back where they started, with Bernadette in mortal danger—and with him over here so far away he couldn’t protect her. All he could do was pray with every breath. And worry.
At ten minutes to ten, Bernadette reached the zoo entrance, where a series of enormous concrete animal statues greeted visitors. She walked up to the lion and leaned back against it, absorbing strength from what it represented. More than just a tourist attraction or photo op. She closed her eyes.
Lion of Judah, holy Lord. My Father and protector. Please keep me safe in Your hands. Give me the right words and help me not give in to fear. Let Your will be done. Let justice be done.
She looked around, suddenly calm. Owen was here somewhere. Watching and worrying. She’d seen the love in his eyes this morning and that helped give her confidence.
What would I do without him, Lord?
She couldn’t think about that right now. Concentrate on your instructions. Get this over with.
The time for running away was done.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the picnic area, which was outside the zoo in an area shaded by huge, arching oaks. In a city as hot and humid as Memphis, the trees were an invaluable resource. Especially with all this concrete and pavement baking in the sun.
She chose the third picnic table past the parking lot. It was fairly clean, in spite of the bird population. This early in the morning there was little trash littering the grass. She sat down on the concrete bench, placed her new handbag in her lap and folded her hands on top of it. It contained the fake VHS tape the feds had given her.
Please, God, let him believe me. All those times he lied to his wife and his family. All the lies he’s told to people who trust him to be a fair judge. If You want to bring him to repentance later that’s fine with me, but right now, Lord, please do justice.
She looked up and saw him getting out of his car. It was a red convertible sports car with the top down.
He hadn’t changed much over the years. Still tall and slim—he’d bragged about being a college basketball star—with thick gray hair and expensive sunglasses. Well-fitted casual clothes. The look of power.
Why a man like that had been consumed with seducing teenage girls continued to mystify her.
It was a struggle not to look down at the tiny microphone lodged in the pocket of her jacket. Her hands clenched her purse. Where were the agents assigned to her? She’d been told they would sweep the area during the night and stay in place until her meeting with Grenville took place.
Defiantly, she sat where she was, refusing to rise in the judge’s presence as he approached.
He stopped a few feet away and let his gaze sweep her figure, head to toe. “You’re looking well.”
“I’m fine.” What did you say to the man who destroyed your childhood?
The Lord is the strength of my life. My light and my salvation.
She didn’t want to talk to him, but she had to get him to say out loud what he’d done.
He sat down at the opposite end of the picnic table. “Thank you for not saying anything to my wife last night.”
Apparently he was going to go for conciliation. Okay, fine.
“She didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t believe she never knew about you.”
“There’s nothing for her to know. I’m a good husband and father. I’m a generous provider.”
He hadn’t admitted anything, but in a flash, she realized that pride was his Achilles’ heel.
“You used to provide for me and Daisy and the others.”
“You were the prettiest one.” His tone was almost avuncular.
She wanted to scratch his eyes out.
“It hurt when you left me in the Peabody that day. That was the day I left Ladonna’s house.”
“Come on. Surely you had other providers.”
> “None like you.” Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it. “I was never going to tell on you. Why did you send that man to kill me?”
EIGHTEEN
Inside the ticket booth, Owen struggled with rage so deep he wondered if he’d ever get over it. Nothing could have prepared him to watch this: the man who had violated his love—his sweetheart, his Bernadette—sitting beside her at a picnic table, in conversation as if he were a long lost friend.
They hadn’t let him wait in the van with the sound equipment, where he could have worn headphones and heard every word. So he was stuck here watching through the binoculars like a monkey in a cage.
Unable to stomach the sight any longer, he moved the binoculars. Something crossed his vision, a tourist entering the plaza in front of the zoo. The glasses case jerked in his hands and he refocused. The man was gone, apparently disappearing beside the fence. Owen searched again and found him, a man in a fishing hat and unremarkable clothes: a plaid shirt, khakis and sneakers. Limping along the fence with his hands in his pockets, he looked toward the picnic area.
He had a large Italian nose, florid skin and heavy shoulders.
Owen’s pulse roared in his ears. “Stapp, the hit man’s here.”
“Where?”
“Near the fence. The guy in the fishing hat. I’m going after him.”
“Carmichael, we’ve got agents already out there. We’ll radio one of them to take the guy out.”
“You can do that, but I’m going, too.”
Before Stapp could do more than mutter a brief expletive and pick up his radio, Owen was out the door and rounding the outside of the ticket booth. Slouching along the fence in the direction he’d seen the hit man heading, he tugged his cap lower to hide his face. There was no way he was sitting tamely in a ticket booth when this guy was setting up to kill Bernadette.
“It was nothing personal,” said Grenville. He brushed a leaf off the table, then leaned an elbow on it. “The other girls had threatened to talk, so I assumed you would, too.” He gave her a thoughtful stare. “Apparently, you have a little more to lose in the way of reputation. I was…surprised to hear you’d become a missionary. I’ll have Marjorie send a donation to the orphanage.”
She gaped at him in utter revulsion. “I don’t want your money.” She pulled the tape out of her purse with unsteady hands and slid it across the table. “This is enough to convict you on any number of nasty charges if I ever decide to use it.”
“How enterprising of Zena to hold on to this all these years. I imagine she planned to blackmail me, too.” He sighed and placed perfectly manicured fingertips together. “It took me a while to find her. I’d almost given up. You might be interested to know that you led me to her.”
“Me?” Bernadette frowned. “Your man was there before me. I never—”
“You did. Leaving her e-mails on your computer at the orphanage—very naive, sweetheart.”
Bernadette had almost forgotten the wire in her pocket. Suddenly, she realized her victim had just given her every bit of information she needed. When were the feds going to jump him? Maybe they were waiting for her to get out of the way.
She stood up.
Then Grenville frowned. His gaze was on the zoo entrance. “That young man coming out of the ticket booth looks very familiar. I think you’ve brought your boyfriend, Bernadette. How very unwise.”
Owen kept his distance as the hit man continued to walk along the fence toward a brick-lined bed of shrubs. Surely Osborn’s men would take him out soon. But Owen was going to follow anyway, just in case.
A few feet farther down, a row of tall ornamental trees with dense foliage marched along the fence. The assassin melted behind them.
Why had one of the feds not already taken the shot? Now the shooter was behind cover and it would be that much more difficult.
Owen squatted in the deep shade of a tree hanging over the fence as if he were a tourist overcome by the heat. Adjusting his cap, he looked up at the roof of the gift shop, where Osborn had stationed a sniper. What he saw sent his heart banging around in his chest.
A hand dangling over the edge of the flat roof. The FBI sniper had somehow been taken out.
Owen had to get to Grenville’s guy before he could fire on Bernadette.
Slowly he rose and prepared to retrace his steps. So far the assassin hadn’t seen him. If he could go around to the other side of the fence and approach from behind, maybe he could catch the guy by surprise.
But before he could move, he heard a scream from the picnic area. His head jerked around in time to see Grenville grab Bernadette and jerk her back against him.
He had a split second to make his decision. Osborn’s men surrounded Bernadette. But there was nobody to take out the sniper. Nobody but him.
Tearing into a sprint, he launched himself behind the row of ornamental trees. The shooter crouched there, a rifle at his shoulder. Owen dove at him, knocking the gun upward just as he fired. Ears ringing, Owen swung a fist into the man’s face and yanked the gun out of his slack hands as he fell.
He stood over the assailant with the rifle braced in both hands. But the guy was out cold. Owen nudged him with his toe to make sure, then threw the gun to the ground and leaned down to flip him over and cuff him.
Shaking, Benny watched Johnny Stapp read Judge Paul Grenville his rights—as if he didn’t know them better than anybody else—and escort him toward the zoo’s entry plaza. Cops were swarming all over the place by now.
But what had happened to Owen? Just before Grenville had grabbed her, he’d taken off running toward the row of landscaping along the fence. Then her attention had been focused on fighting against Grenville’s hateful touch.
Thank God Stapp and a couple of other agents had quickly subdued her enemy, releasing her to back out of the way and gather her composure. Now that it was over, she felt as if she might collapse into a confused puddle of emotion. Relief warred with frustrated rage that she had been forced to listen to that arrogant jerk preen. But her overwhelming emotion was anxiety for Owen.
She was just about to approach one of the agents standing around with a radio at his mouth when she saw Owen striding toward her with a man slung over his shoulder like a sack of feed. The man’s hands were cuffed behind his back, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was the sniper who had killed Ladonna and chased her and Owen all over Mexico.
With a weary grunt, Owen dropped his burden none too gently at the feet of one of the agents. “Book this guy.” Dusting his hands off, he walked toward Bernadette.
Relief blasted away her lingering fear. Running toward him, she cast herself at him like a wild woman.
“Owen!” She flung her arms around his neck as he picked her up and swung her in circles. Giddy, she hung on. “Put me down, you’re making me dizzy.”
“Good. You’ve been making me pretty cockeyed for a good while and it’s about time for a little payback.” But he hugged her tightly and slowed until they stood close together. He released her until her feet touched the ground. “Are you okay? I heard him yell, but I was afraid our bozo from Mexico would shoot, so I had to tackle him first.”
“I’m fine. Shook up, but he didn’t hurt me.”
“Did they get what they needed on the wire?”
“I think so. I’m sure of it. He bragged a lot.” She shivered and Owen tightened his arms.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t want you to have to do that.”
“I know. But I’m glad I did. He’s gone for good now.”
He shook his head. “You’ll have to testify at the trial. But I’ll be there with you.”
She leaned back a little. “Will you?”
He smiled the killer dimpled smile she loved so much. “Just try getting rid of me.”
“Tell Dean to stick it,” said Owen, watching Eli carry Mercedes and Danilo on a tandem horsey ride across the backyard. Sprawled in a lounge chair on the deck with a glass of iced tea at his elbow, he was waiting for Isabel and Be
rnadette to come back from a shopping trip. Calling the Del Rio station to check in had been a mistake.
“Yeah, right,” said Kennedy with a loud snort. “I’d be circling want ads myself by tomorrow morning. He said if you had the nerve to call before Monday, he wanted you back here ASAP.”
“He already extended my leave. He can’t go back on it. Just pretend you never heard from me.”
Kennedy was silent. “Will you trade shifts with me for a week in December? I want to go deer hunting.”
“I’ll name my firstborn child after you if you’ll make sure I get the next few days off. I’m going to ask my girl to marry me this weekend, and I want to do it here in San Antonio.”
Kennedy let out a sigh. “I just lost a hundred bucks. Odds were you’d have dumped her by now and moved on to the next babe.”
“You’ll have to meet her. Then you’ll understand.”
“Man,” said Kennedy, “another one bites the dust.”
Owen got off the phone just as Eli plopped into a lawn chair, panting. Both kids were jumping on the trampoline.
“You got reservations all set up with the restaurant?” asked his brother, grabbing his own glass of iced tea. “Boat tickets?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “It’s a good thing you’ve got three other people to organize besides me now. Yes, I have the reservations and the tickets. And the ring.” He paused as a curl of anxiety hit his stomach. “Are you sure she won’t care that it’s not a diamond?”
“If I know Bernadette, she wouldn’t care if it was a gumball-machine prize. For some reason, she loves you, my brother.” Eli’s eyes were soft with affection. “You’ve earned her. Now quit worrying.”
“When do you think they’ll be back?”
Eli put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. “Umm, I see them leaving the mall right now.”
“Oh, shut up.” He laughed.
“Relax.” Eli winked. “All she can do is say no.”
Bernadette watched Owen give the captain/tour guide an exorbitant tip as he helped her off the boat. This time he’d treated her to a dinner cruise catered by one of the famous restaurants along the Riverwalk.
On Wings of Deliverance Page 19
