A Silent Terror

by Lynette Eason

  “Where?”

  “At Mr. and Mrs. Luck’s house. He was in one of her pictures sitting on the sofa table. I remember picking it up to admire it.” Confusion tagged her. “So what’s the connection between Roland

  Luck, a dead man, and Gerald Chambers, a man who tried to kill me?”

  FOURTEEN

  Ethan thought about Marianna’s question the entire time he was being stitched up. She’d insisted on waiting for him to be discharged, quietly staying out of the way, but her ever-moving eyes told him she didn’t miss a thing going on.

  Such as the fact that he refused a painkiller. She frowned as if she wanted to say something, but resisted. He appreciated her restraint.

  There was no way he was going to cloud his thinking when he still had to interrogate a suspect.

  Leaving the hospital, he asked, “Do you feel like going to the station with me? Or do you want me to take you home?”

  “Is he there already?”

  “Yeah, released from the hospital and transported ten minutes ago. He’s on his way to being booked, but I asked the arresting officers if they’ d put him in an interrogation room so I could have a go at him.”

  “I’ll go with you. I want to know what he says.”

  “If you stand behind the two-way mirror, you should be able to see enough of the conversation as it happens.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You’d let me do that?”

  “Sure, you’re the one he’s after. Seems only right to me.”

  Ethan let her drive and breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived.

  Every bump jarred his wound, causing it to be one throbbing mass of pain by the time the station came into sight. It wasn’t Marianna’s fault; she’d tried to drive smoothly. Pulling himself from the car, he placed his good hand on her back and led her into his second home.

  Her warmth radiated up his arm and he remembered the feel of her sweet lips on his. He swallowed hard at the intense emotions she roused in him. Wishing he had time to examine them, he instead put them aside for later retrieval and study.

  Shrugging off well-wishing and congratulations on his collar, Ethan stayed the course and honed in on the last interrogation room on the left. Spotting a female officer, he asked, “Sarah, would you take Marianna up to the viewing room?”

  “Sure.”

  He turned to Marianna. “Just follow her. Stay there until I come get you, okay?”

  Marianna nodded and Ethan watched them disappear down the hall then around the corner. Placing his hand on the knob, he drew in a deep breath, steeled himself against the pain in his arm and opened the door.

  Marianna followed the officer to a small room not too far from the door Ethan had stopped in front of. When she entered, two other officers stood there. She recognized them as the arresting officers.

  Ethan had taken a seat at the lone table across from the man she now knew as Gerald Chambers.

  “Anything you want to say before your lawyer gets here?”

  The man’s eyes flicked contempt at Ethan before he looked back at the table in front of him. His arm in the cast lay across his belly; his good arm relaxed in his lap.

  Marianna could read body language as well as the next person.

  Probably better. This guy was not going to talk to anyone. He didn’t seem the least bit worried he’d just been charged with attempted murder of a police officer, resisting arrest and assault.

  Ethan tried again. “Why are you after Marianna?”

  The man sighed, shifted, and shut his eyes as though Ethan annoyed him.

  Marianna winced. If Ethan clenched his jaw any tighter, he’d need dental work. While the man’s eyes were closed, she watched Ethan struggle to let go of his anger, his tension, to let his muscles relax. He didn’t drop his guard, but he did gain better control.

  His next question was a common interrogation tactic, ask questions you already knew the answer to, to get the perp’s reaction.

  “What’s your connection with Roland Luck?”

  That got Gerald’s attention. His head snapped up, eyes locked on Ethan. Then he smirked. “Who?”

  “Roland Luck.” Ethan said the name slowly as though speaking to someone who didn’t quite have all his marbles.

  “Never heard of him.”

  Ethan slapped the table in front of him, causing the prisoner to jump. He wasn’t quite as relaxed as he wanted Ethan to believe. Good

  “Everybody who’s interested in politics has heard of him. Don’t give me that.”

  At this point, Gerald’s attorney bustled in, a short older woman named Helen Zanislowski, with eyes like steel. Sharp, intelligent. And highly paid. “Okay, zip it up, Gerald.” She zeroed in on Ethan. “You have no right to question my client without me here.”

  “I was just – talking out loud to myself, so to speak.”

  She snorted.

  Ethan filled her in on the things he’d talked about thus far. “I was just asking him about his connection to Roland Luck – who he claims not to know.”

  Gerald widened his eyes as though recognition had just hit him, and he spoke before his attorney could say anything. “Oh, yeah, that guy who died in the car accident. Had something to do with the governor’s campaign. Right.” He spread his hands, or at least tried to hampered only a bit by the cast, innocence personified. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “That’s what I want to know.”

  “Gerald, be quiet, don’t say another word.”

  Chambers ignored his attorney. “And why would you think I even know this dude?”

  Ethan leaned forward. Should he play this card now or keep it close to his chest? That was the thing about interrogations. Sometimes you just had to go with your gut. So he did.

  “Because Roland Luck’s mother had a picture of you, your father and Roland, all dressed in your army fatigues, sitting on an end table in her living room. Not to mention the fact that your DNA was found in Marianna’s house. And, you’re working with the same campaign.

  Come on, man. Get real.” He leaned forward. “You’re not doing this alone. Who’s pulling your strings?”

  Gerald’s jaw nearly hit the table; he was clearly shocked that Ethan had so much on him. This time his glance to his attorney was pleading, bravado draining away in the face of Ethan’s statement.

  She held up a hand. “Oh please, Ethan. There are so many people involved in the campaign that it wouldn’t surprise me that Gerald doesn’t know everyone. We’ll discuss the photo later. I need to talk to my client. If you have any more questions, we’ll have to set up a time.” Ethan gave a snort of disgust. “You do that. In the meantime, I’ll be gathering the rest of the evidence against your client.”

  Marianna let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  She’d gotten most of the conversation. Speech reading definitely wasn’t a perfected art, and she was better at it than most, but she still missed a word here and there, depending on the shape of the mouth, whether the person talked through gritted teeth or rubbed a hand across his mouth; or maybe as a stranger, she just wasn’t used to the way he or she talked. Things like that could mess her up, but for the most part, she’d understood Gerald amazingly well.

  And she’d understood that Gerald wasn’t talking. What could his connection be with Josh’s family? The picture in Mrs. Luck’s house gave a good indication that the relationship was more than merely one among acquaintances. It suggested friendship.

  Marianna decided that a phone call to Mrs. Luck was in order just as soon as Ethan could make it for her. Oh, she could always use the TTY, but Ethan would speed the process along, get the information faster.

  She watched the lawyer leave. The police used special cuffs on Gerald in order to accommodate his cast as they returned him to his holding cell. The charges against him were strong; she just hoped his family’ s influence wasn’t stronger.

  Ethan exited soon after, and Marianna turned toward the door so she would be able to see hi
m as soon as he opened it.

  Within a minute, the door swung inward. He filled out the entry, broad shoulders nearly reaching from one side to the other. Would he be different? Would he be able to accept her as she was? Hearing deficiency and all? Would he be able to handle her crazy family, including her juvenile delinquent of a brother?

  And why was she even going down this road of thought? He was a cop. A professional. Yeah, and one who spoke her language.

  Curt spoke it, too, and she remembered how well that turned out. She trusted too easily, too fast. She fell for his charming ways and smooth talk.

  All of these thoughts tumbled through her mind with lightning speed. Then Ethan was smiling, satisfaction gleaming. “I think we’ve got our guy.”

  “But we still don’t know what he was looking for.”

  “True, but I think in time he’ll spill it.”

  “What about his family? They’re pretty powerful here in the state.

  Won’t they have some influence?”

  He took her hand to pull her from the room. She followed, letting him lead her as she watched his face. “They’ ll try. In fact, Gerald’s father already has a call in, but with the evidence against him, plus our eyewitness accounts,” he said, flexing his arm, “not to mention the fact the man sliced me, I’d say we’re pretty good. The father can argue all he wants, but the fact remains, his son’s guilty.”

  Relief slowly eased its way through her. She was starting to believe it might finally be over. Life could return to normal. She gazed at the tall man beside her. But would life ever truly be normal? “Was he the man who made the call from the hospital?”

  “Looks like it. Same jacket, even with a piece of leather missing from the sleeve. Plus it was the same hat.”

  “Ar1d the one who attacked me in the gym?”

  “Probably.” A frown caught at his forehead. “Did you smell alcohol on the man from the gym?”

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to remember the incident but forcing herself to relive it. Walking into the gym, knowing someone was there, feeling his presence behind her, the breath-snatching fear, the agonizing moment when she thought she was dead. Her heart rate accelerated just thinking about it. She gripped the door handle, tuned all her senses into that moment. The smell of cigarettes, a sweet sickly, smell of…alcohol?

  Instead of pondering that thought, she asked, “No, I don’t think it was alcohol. It was more like cologne, a woodsy, yet sweet kind of smell. One I’ve smelled before and didn’t like.” She snapped her fingers. “Chewing tobacco! That’s what it was, I guarantee it.”

  “Tobacco?”

  “Yes. I’m sure of it. Alonso tried it once upon a time, and it stunk up the place.” She shrugged. “What do you think about calling Mrs.

  Luck and asking her about the relationship between her family and the Chambers family? I’m guessing Roland and Gerald’s father were involved in politics together and became friends. And they both had on military uniforms. Maybe they met in the army.”

  “And Gerald followed in his father’s footsteps.”

  “Yes, all three were in uniform.”

  “Makes sense. Do you have the number?”

  She grimaced. “Yes, but it’s in my classroom.”

  “Want to ride over there and get it?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Ethan walked her out to her car and opened the door for her. She climbed in and Ethan walked around to climb in the passenger side. He made only one painful face as he reached up to grab the seat belt.

  “Does it hurt that bad?”

  He shot her a rueful look. “Kind of like being dipped into a vat of boiling tar.”

  “Ack. Sorry.” Definitely painful.

  “It’s all right. It’ll pass.”

  The flash of Gerald with the knife, charging at Ethan, and the remembered terror. It was all still too fresh. She swallowed hard. The graze of his knuckles sliding down her cheek caught her, and she flicked him a glance. He said, “Don’t think about it.”

  She started the car. “It’s hard not to.” The path his knuckles traveled tingled. Her insides shuddered, and she realized she was very attracted to this man. What would happen when this was all over? And it was getting close to being finished…she hoped. She fingered her hearing aid and studied him. Could it be possible he was different? Could he truly accept her as she was? Hearing loss and all.

  Could it be possible she’d finally met a man who wouldn’t try to “fix” her?

  “Ashley would have liked you.”

  His out-of-the-blue comment startled her. She wondered if she’d caught exactly what he’d said. “Excuse me?”

  “Ashley.” He gave her a wistful smile. “She would have liked you. A lot.”

  “Well…thanks.”

  “You’re a lot like her, different in many ways but alike, too.”

  “How?” He was letting her in. Opening himself up and allowing her to see the hurting, vulnerable side of him. She remembered their dinner the night before Roland’s funeral, remembered his kindness, his willingness to be honest with her about his feelings. It made her want to reciprocate.

  For a moment he didn’t answer, and she wondered if he was having second thoughts about keeping the conversation on this particular topic. Then he took a deep breath, “She was an incredible girl. Had a deep faith in God you wouldn’t expect someone of her age to have.”

  “I think I remember her going on a mission trip when she was a

  student here.”

  A faint smile curved his lips. “Yes, her last one. To a deaf school in Jamaica. She loved it. And came back even more determined to make her mark on her world.” Then he frowned. “That’s why it’s so hard to understand how God…”

  “…could let her die?”

  His throat bobbed. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know, Ethan. But I think He understands why you would ask that.”

  Reaching over, he grasped her hand. “Thanks. I think so, too. I finally had to come to the conclusion that if God is who He says He is, then I have to choose whether I believe it or not. It was a long road, and I can’t fathom the purpose of her death, but…”

  “God is faithful and just.”

  He squeezed her hand, then pulled away. “Yeah.”

  And then there was no more time to delve deeper. And Marianna wasn’t sure what to think.

  Arriving at the school, she waved to the weekend security guard and drove through the gate, winding around the campus to reach her building.

  Two other cars sat parked on the side of the road, and Marianna’s heart sank when she recognized Misty’ s. Great. Often teachers worked on the weekends, but Marianna hadn’t even thought she’d run into the woman who continued to aggravate her. She glanced at Ethan, his strong presence a comfort.

  But not a necessity, she assured herself. She wasn’t compromising her independence by being glad he was with her. Was she? She’d come to rely on him…a lot. A niggling sense of discomfort pierced her. She’d fought long and hard to convince her family she could take care of herself. Even having a deaf mother hadn’t made a difference. The woman had married Marianna’s father right out of high school.

  Because Marianna was the first deaf child born, they’d been so protective. Overprotective. Smothering her. Especially Joseph. He’d driven her nuts before she’d finally gotten old enough to stand up for herself. Fortunately, she’d been blessed with a healthy dose of stubbornness that had done her well when it came to dealing with Joseph.

  But she didn’t need to be so antsy when it came to Ethan. He was here because she was truly in danger, needed someone to watch out for her. Keep her from harm. He didn’t smother her or make her feel as if she were incompetent. He didn’t try to change her, force her to be someone she wasn’t. He just…watched out for her.

  She could live with that.

  Using her key, she opened the door and stepped into the building.

  It smelled like…school. Crayons, markers, paper,
copies, glue, sometimes popcorn and cookies. She smiled. No matter what school she entered, they all had that same educational fragrance, one that Marianna loved.

  Ethan once again placed a hand at her back, and once again she shivered at the contact. Would his touch ever grow old? Would she ever not want to be with him? Breathe in his unique scent? Would the anticipation of waiting for him, watching him walk into the room, dwindle over time?

  All of these questions flittered through her mind as she walked to

  the door of her classroom – and found it already open.

  She paused. Ethan moved his hand from her waist to her shoulder turning her to look at him. “Should that door be open?’

  Marianna shook her head. “I always lock up when I leave on Friday. Maintenance people come in to clean, but they always leave the door locked when they finish. I don’t know why it would be open. No one knew we were coming up here, so…”

  He pulled her back a little, then stepped in front of her. “Let me just take a look.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she protested, but not too forcefully.

  “One way to find out.” He stepped into the room.

  Marianna followed in spite of his order to stay put.

  And found Misty going through her desk.

  Anger flowed and Marianna clenched a fist to keep it in check. The woman looked up with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face. Marianna watched her swallow, clearly incapable of speech, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two who’d just walked in on her.

  Ethan said nothing and simply looked at Marianna as he stepped

  to the side.

  And she realized what he was doing.

  Since there was nothing life threatening about the situation, he was deferring the handling of it to her. Something flowed through her at that realization. In the blink of an eye she realized she could love this man.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Instead, she focused on the woman still standing behind the desk. Help me say the right thing, Lord. Show me how to handle this.