“What time should I be there?”
“One okay?”
“I’ll see you then. Should I bring anything?”
“No, and come alone. We’ll be talking about things that must remain between us.”
CHAPTER 6
I left home around noon for my lunch date at Buddy and Sarah Daniels' home. It should not have come as a surprise their house backed up on a cemetery, but sure enough, it did. Saints Peter and Paul Cemetery, one of the biggest in the area. I wondered if being a Chaser meant I’d have to move next to a cemetery too.
I found the house at the end of the block and parked by the curb.
Buddy and Sarah lived in a small matchbox house, yellow with a white shingle roof and matching white trim. Two windows ran across the front of the house, one on either side of the front door, and each was shaded by a white aluminum awning.
The lawn was green and manicured, divided in two sections by a cement walk leading up from the street to the house. The only tree, a towering oak in the backyard, shaded most of the small house from the mid-day sun.
Getting out, I reached into the passenger seat to retrieve the flowers I’d brought with me. Mandy had insisted a good guest would not come empty-handed the first time he visited someone’s home. I talked to her last night and she was quick to make sure I was up on my etiquette.
Before I even had a chance to push the bell, the door opened and revealed Buddy in bright red, Bermuda shorts and a yellow t-shirt. No robe, no cross, no sword.
“Hi, Jack. Come on in.”
He swung the screen door open and I stepped in. I could hear Mrs. Daniels calling from the kitchen.
“Is that Jack?”
Buddy gestured to the kitchen, ahead on the right, and I followed him.
The kitchen was done in the same bright colors as the outside of the house, with white appliances, white countertops, and cabinets painted pale yellow. This might’ve been the cheeriest house I’d ever been in. I think the kitchen curtains may have had yellow smiley faces, but they were pulled back, so I couldn’t be sure.
Sarah Daniels turned and walked toward me. A tiny woman with white hair, a delicate nose, and bright eyes, her smile took up half her face. She wore an orange sundress with a white belt and radiated joy. Both of the Daniels were barefoot.
“Jack, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Buddy.”
Wiping her palms on her apron, she reached out and shook my hand. She had the grip of an ironworker.
“Thank you, Mrs. Daniels.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Sarah will be just fine. We’re not nearly so formal around here.”
“Sarah it is. These are for you.”
She took the flowers I was holding out, and her smile grew even larger, which I thought was impossible. I already loved this woman and I’d just met her.
“They’re beautiful! Thank you so much.”
While she went to put them in water, Buddy led me into the backyard. A small patio formed from randomly placed cement stones held a table and four chairs, and a pitcher of something cold sat on the table.
“Iced tea, Jack?”
“Yes, thanks.”
He poured me a glass and stepped over to the barbeque to check on lunch. I gazed over the back fence at the huge cemetery, row after row of stones among manicured greenery. I realized it was quite peaceful.
“Some view you have here, Buddy.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he flipped the steaks.
“Yeah. Some people would be creeped out living by a cemetery, but we find it quiet and serene.”
“Must make it handy when you’re chasing.”
Buddy laughed.
“You’d think so, but not really. Most Runners are trying to get somewhere other than a cemetery, and I almost never find them there.”“How long have you lived here?”
“Twenty-eight years. We bought the house when we got married, and never felt the need to move.”
I did some quick math in my head.
“So you married Sarah after you became a Chaser?”
The door opened and Sarah came out carrying a plate of cut-up watermelon.
“That’s right. He told me before we were married, but I didn’t see how it made any difference. We all need to serve God in whatever fashion the Lord asks, and Buddy had found his calling. What more could a Christian woman ask for than a man whose priorities are his wife and God.”
I took a piece of the watermelon and sat in a chair.
“What about the danger?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“God called him, so I let God take care of him.”
“Don’t you worry?”
“Sure I worry, I’m human, but I take comfort in prayer. Buddy has told me he can feel my prayers when he’s in a tight spot.”
Buddy nodded his agreement as he took the steaks off the grill.
“Prayer is powerful. In fact, it’s the Christians’ most powerful weapon against evil. Steaks are ready, let’s eat!”
*******
Lunch consisted of the steaks, homemade mashed potatoes, garden salad, and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
I groaned as I took my third cookie.
“That was fantastic! My microwave dinners just don’t measure up.”
Sarah was gathering the plates.
“I’m very pleased you liked it. I have dishes and a kitchen to clean up, so I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”
I started to get up.
“Let me help.”
Sarah wagged her finger at me.
“You’re our guest. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll handle it.”
There was no room for argument, so I retook my seat. She was gone, with her arms loaded, in less than a minute.
“You’re a blessed man, Buddy Daniels. If she was twenty years younger, I’d steal her from you.”
He looked at the door and back at me, a smile lighting his face.
“Yes, yes I am. You want more tea?”
I shook my head, and his smile vanished as his demeanor turned serious. “How’s it going?”
“You mean with the decision process?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know how I feel. I’m in awe of what you do, and I don’t know if I’m capable of the same.”
“God not only calls us, but He equips us.”
“I know, I know. One thing I was wondering about, do you have, like, a territory? I mean, how far do you go when you chase? I’m sure Runners aren’t limited to St. Louis.”
Buddy allowed himself to laugh before answering.
“No, I’m not the only one, and St. Louis isn’t the only city with Runners. There are many others called to chase, but we have very limited contact with each other.”
“Why? I would think you would want to support each other, or even pray together.”
“Like everything, God has a plan, and a regular meeting between Chasers is not part of that plan. It’s not that I avoid other Chasers, but more that God keeps me focused on what I must do, not what he is doing elsewhere.”
“Have you ever worked together with other Chasers on a case?”
“No,” his face clouded over and his eyes turned sad. “The only Chaser I’ve ever worked with was my mentor, and it didn’t turn out well.”
“What happened?”
Buddy hesitated.
“Justin was killed during a chase.”
I wanted to ask more about the events leading up to the death of a Chaser, but Buddy was not in the mood.
“I don’t want to discuss that tonight. Maybe another time. Tonight is about you.” He sipped his ice tea. “I have a Runner I’m working on, who I think I can surprise tomorrow. Want to tag along?”
“Sure, I’m in. Where and when?”
“I’ll call you in the morning with the details. I’ve still got a little research to do.”
“The research and how you find these Runners is something I need to know mor
e about.”
Again, he laughed. “You’re a P.I., aren’t you? You think that’s by accident?”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. God had guided me to this profession as a means of preparation.
“How do you find out who you’re chasing?”
“That is best learned by experience.”
Oh, great. Suddenly he’s going all ‘mystery answers’ on me again.
I decided it was time to head out.
“I guess I’d better go. This was a wonderful afternoon, Buddy. Thanks.”
He got up and I followed him into the house. Sarah was putting the last dish in the strainer, and turned to say goodbye.
“Nice to meet you, Jack.”
“Nice to meet you, Sarah. Thanks again for the meal.”
“Any time.”
Buddy walked with me to the front door.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yup. I’ll call with the time and place. Goodnight.”
He closed the door and I went to the Ranchero. I couldn’t decide which was more full, my stomach or my head. Whichever, both were feeling very satisfied.
CHAPTER 7
The next morning, and I use the term ‘morning’ loosely, the vibrating of my cell phone next to the bed roused me from a deep sleep. I picked it up and looked at the time before answering. Five a.m.
“Hello?”
“Time to go, Jack. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“I thought you said ‘tomorrow morning’.”
“It’s past midnight, that’s morning. See you in thirty minutes.”
He hung up before I could protest any further. Dragging myself out of bed, I showered and put on my standard clothes, including the black bomber jacket to cut the chill of early morning.
A bowl of cereal and half a cup of coffee later, the sun began to peak over the horizon, followed closely by Buddy pulling up in the driveway.
“You always up this early?” I asked as I climbed into the passenger seat.
He shook his head. “Nope. In fact, some nights I don’t go to bed. Last night was one of those nights.”
I glanced over at him and could see no perceptible signs of him being sleep-deprived. To me, he looked the fresher of the two of us. “What did you do all night?”
“I told you, research.”
“All night?”
“No, I spent several hours in prayer. You will as well, if you choose to become a Chaser. You must be as ready spiritually as you are mentally and physically when you go after a Runner.”
“Makes sense.”
Buddy’s car was a white late-model Chevy Impala. Comfortable and ordinary, not one that would attract attention. He backed out the driveway and headed east.
I’ve never been what you would call a ‘prayer warrior,’ and the thought of hours of prayer seemed impossible to me.
“Don’t get me wrong, but how do you pray for such a long time?”
He chuckled. “I asked my mentor the same question.”
“And what did he say?”
“He told me I wouldn’t notice the time because I would be talking with the Spirit. He said I would come to treasure prayer time.” He glanced over at me. “He was right.”
I looked up to see we were coming into the downtown area of the city. Getting off the Interstate loop, we drove down near the Arch and parked behind the Drury Hotel. The sun was fully up, but downtown was still quiet. Just a few cars coming and going in front of the hotel. The usual parade of tourists, filing from various spots in the area toward the Arch, had not yet begun.
Buddy hadn’t said anything since we parked, but I noticed he was staring directly at the hotel dumpster. I followed his gaze and spotted a man standing behind it, watching the back door of the hotel.
“Is that him?”
Buddy nodded. “His name is Stan Warren.”
The man looked to be a little less than six foot tall, balding but muscular. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, and didn’t appear to notice us. Buddy got out of the car, shut the door, and stuck his head back in the window.
“Follow, slightly off to the side, twenty feet behind me.”
I got out and kept my distance as Buddy approached the man, his robe and cross swaying with every step. I assumed the sword was in his belt. The man didn’t see Buddy until they were just a few feet apart.
“Stan Warren?”
Stan’s head swiveled to look at the Chaser, and anger crossed his face. “Who are you?”
“That’s not important. I’m here because it’s time for you to go.”
“I don’t know you, or how you can see me, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, come now. Let’s not be difficult.”
Buddy sounded calm, but I sensed a tightness in his stance, like a coiled snake. He watched Stan warily. The Runner tried to ignore Buddy, turning constantly to look at the back door of the hotel. Buddy stepped closer.
“I can’t let you follow through with your plan.”
Stan turned to face the Chaser.
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“You can’t get revenge from beyond the grave. Vengeance belongs to the Lord.”
Stan Warren suddenly transformed, his image taking on a solid shape, which had been absent before. He swung out and struck Buddy flush on the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. Before I could even react, Buddy was back up.
Sweeping his leg under the Runner, he knocked Stan’s feet out from under him. When Stan hit the ground, he returned to a spirit form, and Buddy pounced. With practiced efficiency, Buddy drew the sword and plunged it into the man’s chest. In a brilliant flash, Stan Warren was gone.
Buddy straightened up and put away his sword. A welt was coming up on the side of his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. My heart was pounding, and I was having a hard time grasping how quickly everything had happened. Buddy looked at me.
“You okay?”
“Me?” I was incredulous. “I’m fine. You’re the one who has the welt on his face. Are you okay?”
He reached up and touched his face.
“Oh yeah, minor bump. Get back in the car.”
I followed him back to the Impala and we got in. He pointed.
“Watch that door.”
A few minutes later, another man about the same age as Stan Warren, came out wearing the uniform of the Drury Hotel. Buddy sensed my confusion.
“That’s Jeff Deaver. He was best man at Stan Warren’s wedding to Judy. Fast forward twelve years, Jeff and Judy are having an affair. Stan found out and was on his way to confront his friend when he was killed in a car wreck.”
I watched Jeff Deaver get into his car and drive away.
“Stan came back to kill his former friend?”
“Yes. I’d been chasing Stan for several weeks, trying to get a handle on why he was running. It wasn’t until after I discovered the affair, and where Jeff Deaver worked, that I had a chance to confront Stan Warren.”
Buddy started the car as I tried to organize my thoughts.
“What happened right before he struck you? He changed somehow.”
“He went corporeal.”
“Corporeal? You mean physical?”
“Sort of. In order to attack me, he had to manifest.”
It was beginning to sink in how this job could be dangerous.
“You knocked him down before attacking him? Why not just run him through with the sword?”
“Remember, the wooden sword is dull. It’s a spiritual weapon.”
The light bulb went on. “So he had to be spirit when you stabbed him.”
“Exactly, and knocking him down caused him to lose both the focus and the energy necessary to manifest. At that moment, I was able to pierce him and kill his spirit, forcing him back into the light.”
My thoughts wandered to my encounters with Harbinger.
“So that’s what makes Harbinger so dangerous. He’s been around a long time, so he’s stronger than most Runners ever get.”
“I’m afraid so.”
We pulled up in front of a Denny’s and I realized I was famished. The hostess escorted us to a booth near the window. After the coffee arrived, I took a closer look at the welt on my mentor’s face. It was nearly gone.
“Your face is clearing up?”
“The Lord is our healer.”
“Guess that saves on medical bills.”
He laughed. “That’s one way to look at it!”
“Where did you get the speed you showed in the fight? You were lightning quick.”
“That’s one of the gifts a Chaser is granted. I know you’ve been trained to fight, but the Spirit will take it to the next level.”
I can take care of myself, but now that I’d seen the speed of the old man, I wasn’t sure I could take him in a fight.
After we ate, I looked at Buddy, my mind going back to the two run-ins I had with Harbinger.
“Buddy, how old is Harbinger?”
“You mean how long has he been running?”
“Yeah.”
“Steve Mason, the name he had when he was alive, died in the late eighteen hundreds and has been running ever since.”
“He’s been running for over a hundred years?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t call what he does now running.”
“Why?”
“He’s more powerful than most Chasers, and he’s more experienced at this than most Chasers ever get.”
The fact God didn’t have someone at the ready to take care of Harbinger irked me.
“So what makes him so special?”
Buddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“When a Runner kills a Chaser, which doesn’t happen often, he can draw in some of the Chaser’s power. It gives the Runner insight into a Chaser’s mind and the ability to anticipate what a Chaser might do next.”
“Harbinger has killed a Chaser?”
He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on his coffee cup.
“Two, actually.”
“And one was your mentor?”
Again, the slow nod. I felt bad for making him tell me.
“Sorry, Buddy. I shouldn’t have pried.”
He held up his hand.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll have to tell you eventually, and you need to know what you’re up against.”
CROSSOVER (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 1) Page 4
