Silent is the Grave
Page 21
At Betty’s nod, he pulled a small notepad from his pocket and made a show out of fishing a pen from a pocket protector. The more he could look like some kind of nerd, the less threatening he’d seem. Which meant he should seem about as threatening as a mouse right about now.
If she only knew.
He thanked Betty profusely, added another comment about hoping it wasn’t too late, and shuffled toward the door. Once he reached the end of the block, he dropped the awkward gait and hurried down the sidewalk. He’d parked his car around the corner, not wanting anyone to be able to tie the vehicle to him.
As he reached the black SUV, he removed the glasses, shrugged off the jacket, and dumped both in the back seat.
He’d really hoped to be dumping a witness in the back right about now.
This was a minor setback. He’d locate Elly, extract information from her using any means necessary, then dispose of her body.
He could check out the various marinas, see if he could track her down that way. Getting people to talk to him wasn’t usually a problem and from everything he’d heard, this redhead would likely draw attention.
Also wouldn’t hurt to have someone keep an eye on the youth center. And he knew just who to call.
Monica couldn’t hide from him forever. He’d find her and deal with the problem.
Using terminal force.
Eighteen
Monica looked at herself in the mirror for what had to be the tenth time, hardly believing what she saw.
Herself. Clean, safe, and in new clothes.
The sweat pants, t-shirt, and hoodie Elly had bought weren’t high fashion, but she loved them. They were warm, comfortable, and allowed room for her belly to grow.
In fact, Elly had bought multiples of each, in various colors and prints, as well as some pajamas, socks, and undergarments.
When was the last time she’d actually worn pajamas?
She couldn’t remember, but she was excited to wear these. Funny how something as simple as pajamas could provide a sense of stability, of normalcy.
Which was something she hadn’t had in a very long time.
She exited the bathroom, her damp hair twisted up in a clip which Elly had also provided, and walked down the short hallway in stocking feet.
At the entry to the kitchen, she paused.
Josiah stood at the island, chopping something with a practiced ease. His head was only a few inches below the ceiling and his presence filled the space. Not that he actually took up all the space – the man was skinnier than she was – but something about him made it feel like he took up the whole room.
The knife never broke stride on the cutting board as he looked up and grinned at her. “Hey Monica. Feel better?”
She nodded.
Alone in this room with a man she didn’t know, she really shouldn’t feel better, yet she did.
More than that, she felt safe. Another thing she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Do you like to cook?” His words were colored by the same accent Elly had, something she couldn’t place but that had an almost musical quality to it.
She shrugged. “I’ve never really tried it.”
“I’m making a veggie and rice stir fry. Would you like to learn?”
Probably not a bad idea. She couldn’t stay here forever, after all. She’d need to know how to cook for herself sometime, so why not learn now, when she had someone willing to teach her?
Her single nod brought a wide, white grin to his face. “There’s another knife in that drawer by the fridge. If you grab it, you can chop the peppers.”
The knife felt foreign in her hand, but she mimicked the rhythm Josiah modeled and in a short time was chopping the peppers almost as quickly as he chopped the carrots.
“Do you hear God, too?”
Josiah’s knife stilled and he looked at her, his dark eyes the color of plums.
In fact, Elly and her brothers all had purple eyes. Different shades, but all in some kind of purple. She’d never seen anything like it, but it fit them.
“Not with my ears, but I do hear His voice.”
“Like Elly?”
“Yeah.” He set the knife aside and splayed his fingers across the counter. “Zeke can actually hear a voice, but Elly and I just get more of a sense of the words. Almost like an impression.”
“I want to hear Him.” The statement surprised her, but even more surprising was that it was true.
Josiah laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. But it takes time. If I called you on the phone, would you immediately recognize my voice?”
Would she? His voice was somewhat distinctive, especially with that accent, but unless she was expecting his call, she probably wouldn’t know who he was. “Maybe?”
“Someday you would. But right now, I’d need to tell you who I am or you wouldn’t know. It’s the same with God. His people do come to know His voice, but we all have to spend time with Him, listening for His voice, before we know it’s Him speaking.” He paused, his intense eyes holding her own.
At some point she’d stopped cutting vegetables. She didn’t remember doing it, but the knife in her hand was not moving.
“Are you one of His people, Monica?”
She shook her head.
“Would you like to be?”
The words were spoken softly, gently.
She could choose to be one of God’s people. She could follow Him.
Was that what she wanted?
Yes. The word resonated inside her head. Jessie had believed this. Elly and Josiah and Zeke were clearly all-in and there was something vastly different about them.
Something she wanted for herself and she knew that “something” was God.
“Ho–how do you become one of God’s people?” She waited.
Now came the lists. All the requirements. The ten step – maybe more – program to complete before you could take on the title of one of God’s people and hear His voice.
“Believe.”
She waited for the rest. But Josiah said nothing. “And?”
“And nothing. Believe a few basic truths and God does the heavy lifting after that.”
Too simple. Nothing came that easily. “Like what?”
“That God is perfect and we are not. That everyone sins and sin puts up a wall between us and God.” He ticked them off on long fingers. “That Jesus is God, lived as a man and died in our place and that His death alone breaks down that wall so we can know God. He rose from the dead so we can live forever. Acts 4:12 in the Bible says it best. ‘Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.’”
Did she believe that?
Well, she believed in God, so why not the rest? She’d seen Elly do some pretty amazing things. If she spent time around Josiah and Zeke, she’d bet they’d do the same. That had to mean God was behind them, right?
“I believe.”
“Then tell God.”
Tell God? Like He was standing right here?
Then again, she’d heard how Elly and Josiah and Zeke prayed. They talked as though God was in the room with them.
She looked up at the ceiling, as though she expected to see God’s face hovering in the plaster. “Uh, hey God. It’s me Monica.”
Dumb. If God was so smart, He already knew that.
“So, um, I guess I just wanna say that I believe. In You. And Jesus. And that You’ll save me just like You said.” It felt weird, talking to the ceiling, but she guessed that part of believing was believing that God was listening, too. “I know I’m not perfect and I’m gonna screw this up, but Josiah says you can save me anyway and I believe that.”
She waited for lightning to come through the ceiling. Or a booming voice like thunder. Or the lights to flicker or the boat to shake or the veggies to levitate. Something. Anything to acknowledge that God had heard her.
Nothing. Just Josiah grinning like a clown.
“Di–did it work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Luke 15:10 says that there is rejoicing in heaven when sinners repent.” His eyes glowed like amethysts. “You might not look any different. You may not even feel different. But you are different. You’re a child of God, loved by your Creator. No matter where you go or what happens, He will always be with you.”
Loved by her Creator. The words settled over her like a soft blanket.
She had a lot to learn, but she suddenly felt loved. God had brought her here, hadn’t He? Brought Elly and Josiah and Zeke, right when she’d needed them?
Her stomach gurgled, drawing a chuckle from Josiah.
“How about we get back to these veggies before your stomach really gets vocal?”
₪ ₪ ₪
The alarm called Zander from dreams of whispered warnings, glowing purple eyes, and hungry waves. Silencing his phone, he stared at the ceiling. A soft early-morning glow chased the shadows to the recesses of the room.
Why couldn’t he get Elly’s warning from his head?
Maybe because everything else she’d ever told him had come true. Still, odds were good that she’d miss the mark at some point, right? Why not now?
He swung his legs out of bed and waited for the headache or nausea to kick in.
It didn’t.
In fact, he felt alert. Ready to tackle whatever came at him today.
Weird. He wasn’t usually a morning person…
Then again, he hadn’t gotten wasted last night, either. Not that he hadn’t tried, but Elly’s warning had made him feel sick every time he thought about having a drink. He’d barely made it through the beer he’d had at the pub with Rafe.
He took a shower, stopped at a coffee shop for a triple shot and a breakfast sandwich, and still strolled into work ten minutes early.
Morgan glanced up and stared at him. “You caught in a time warp or something, kid? You’re never this early.”
“I’m fine, old man.”
Morgan pulled back, his eyebrows jumping. “Who’re you callin’ old?”
“Well, if you can call me kid, I figure I’ve got a right to call you old.” Why hadn’t he thought to try this tactic before?
A grin played at the corners of Morgan’s mouth. “We prefer youthfully challenged. And don’t you forget it.”
“Noted.”
“Seriously.” The smile disappeared and Morgan leaned back in his chair. “What’s up?”
A lot he couldn’t get into. Well, he certainly didn’t want to admit that his mood was because he hadn’t gotten drunk the night before.
“I’ve got a fresh lead on Jave’s case. In fact,” Zander rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in closer. “I think it might have ties to our current case. I think it might even be the same killer.”
Morgan stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. It sounded pretty nuts.
Then again, he’d been warned by a girl who had healed him, could breathe underwater, and claimed to hear from God. Crazy was a pretty relative term in his life right now.
“Kid.” Morgan sighed. “I know you want to close that one. I get it, believe me. But–”
“The ME confirmed that there are consistencies in the cause of death in both cases.”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed.
Yeah, he figured that would get his attention.
“Still, that doesn’t mean–”
Zander’s phone rang. He glanced at the unfamiliar number before accepting the call. “Salinas.”
“Zander? It’s Elly.”
His breath lodged in his chest at the sound of her voice.
“Zander? Are you there?”
Real smooth. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“I hope I didn’t call too early, but Monica’s ready to speak with you. I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”
“You know where Monica is?” Man, this was a good day. Now if only Monica held the clues that would break this whole thing wide open.
“She’s on the boat.”
So Elly had been hiding her. He shouldn’t be surprised, but part of him was. “How long has she been there?”
“About a day and a half.”
That explained why she didn’t want him boarding yesterday. And here he’d thought it was about him. How stupid could he be?
Of course, that was also good news. It meant she wasn’t afraid to be around him.
Maybe. Or maybe it just gave her a good excuse to shut him down.
“Okay. I’m on my way now.”
“I’ll be watching for you.”
He ended the call and glanced at the display. He’d have to save that number in case he needed to reach her again.
“You got a lead on Monica?” Morgan’s voice broke up his thoughts.
“Uh, yeah. Elly’s got her.”
A slow grin spread across Morgan’s face. “Elly, huh? Well what’re you waiting for?”
He didn’t correct the insinuation. Fact was, he was looking forward to seeing Elly. “You coming?”
Morgan waved him off. “Nah. I think you got this one covered.”
Snagging his keys off the desk, Zander shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong idea here, man.”
“Do I? Wouldn’t kill you to spend some time with a pretty lady now, would it?”
It might if the lady was someone who was seriously out of reach. Which he suspected Elly was.
₪ ₪ ₪
Tangy salt air teased his senses as he stepped out of his Mustang. How could he like the scent of the sea while wanting nothing to do with the water itself?
He crossed to the boardwalk and zeroed in on Elly’s boat. No sign of red hair. In fact, no movement at all.
Didn’t look like she was watching for him after all.
Maybe she was already at the gate.
He headed for it, only to find it locked.
Now what?
He eyed the set-up. The chain-link fencing was probably twice his height, topped with razor wire. A wooden partition with an electrical box blocked any alternate access on his left. On his right, the chain-link fence extended beyond the walkway several feet so he couldn’t go around it either. All in all, effectively designed to keep out people who didn’t belong.
He could always try gripping the fence and trying to climb around it, but that would require dangling over water…
Which was not gonna happen.
She probably didn’t even know he was out here. Why hadn’t he at least arranged a firm meeting time?
Wait! He had her number. Pulling up the call history, he selected Elly’s number and hit the call icon.
A phone rang nearby. Coincidence?
Or maybe Elly was close. He glanced around, then followed the sound.
A pay phone mounted to the outside of the marina office and visitor’s center rang insistently. As did the phone pressed to his ear.
He terminated the call. The pay phone went silent.
Figured. He didn’t know those things even existed any more.
How could anyone not have a phone in this culture?
Then again, she wasn’t really from this culture, was she?
“Zander.”
He turned. Elly stood at the gate, holding it open. Wind played with her hair and pressed her silk shirt against her body, emphasizing the curves the fabric hid.
The wind must’ve blown his words away, too, because his mind couldn’t conjure up a single thing to say.
Much as he wanted to deny it, Morgan didn’t have the wrong idea. Spending time with Elly was climbing higher and higher on his list.
“Zander? Everything okay?” She approached, the gate banging shut behind her.
Snap out of it!
He blinked. “Uh, yeah. I’m good.”
A smile stretched up to her eyes. So innocent. And completely naïve of what his heart was doing
at the sight of her.
Focus. He was here for a reason and it wasn’t to look like an idiot.
Although he was doing an excellent job at that one.
“Is Monica on the boat?”
It was a lame distraction, especially since she’d told him as much earlier, but if she noticed she said nothing. “Yes. I was a bit concerned she might change her mind, but she seems like she’s ready to talk.”
At least she couldn’t run away this time. Not unless she planned to jump in the bay and swim.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long.” Her comment snapped him back.
“Not too long, although I tried calling the number you used earlier and got that pay phone over there. Think maybe you could get a pre-paid phone so it’s easier for me to reach you?”
“Why would you need to reach me?”
So many reasons. Most he’d never put into words. “Well you kinda have my key witness with you so a phone wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll pick one up the next time I’m out.” Elly punched in a code on the gate.
As tempted as he was to watch, he forced himself to look away.
Her code was none of his business.
Funny how the walk to the boat, across the floating walkway, was a little less intimidating this time. Maybe it was the swim yesterday. Or the knowledge that Elly could easily save him if he fell in.
Even at that, he’d take solid ground any day.
“Why don’t you like the water?”
Elly’s question so closely mirrored his thoughts it was like she was in his head. How did she do that?
“Who says I don’t?”
She laughed, the sound bouncing off the yacht they’d just passed. “You did, although not in so many words. You tense up before we even walk through the gate and glare at the water more than you do at criminals. Then there was the panic yesterday.”
Okay, so he didn’t hide it very well. Didn’t mean he owed her any explanation.
Still, what would it hurt? Besides, she’d been really open with him, so maybe he did owe her.
“I can’t swim.” That and he’d watched one too many shark movies growing up. Few people knew that San Francisco was a hotspot for shark activity.