Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the earth. Trust in Me. I am the way, the truth and the light.
Moving forward, he kicked up some papers in the middle of the
path. He stepped over them, wishing he could see who he was
tracking.
Another slight sound from his left reached his ears, then a single word. “Here.” Slowly, he crept forward. One foot after the other until his foot came down on something soft. The yowling screech nearly took his head off, and the bite of sharp claws sank into his left calf.
Marianna knew if she moved a scant millimeter, the man would pull the trigger. Hardly daring to breathe, she watched his eyes. Knew when he’d made the decision. Knew she was on her way to meet face-to-face the God she loved. His finger curled around the trigger.
Lord, I can’t give up without a fight. Please let me live to love Ethan.
Her hand gripped the canister. She refused to sit obediently while he blew her away.
A fleeing ball of fur caught her eye just as his focus swung from her to behind him, his attention diverted, his eyes off her. Marianna dove to the left, pulled the Mace from her pocket and aimed it at his eyes, which were now back on her.
She held her breath and squeezed. Liquid squirted, covering his eyes and his nose, soaking the cloth still covering his face. As though she were in slow motion, she could see his mouth working, could see him stumble away, clawing his face with his free hand. The hand that held the gun jerked toward the ceiling, and she saw the flash of the bullet exiting the barrel.
Then she was back in real time, scrambling from her position on the floor, hurrying away from the man who wanted her dead, her mind looping a prayer: Please, Jesus, please!
With her heart thudding painfully in her chest, she moved fast, her elbow catching the edge of something hard, which sent shooting pains into her shoulder. Panting, she followed the trail she’d just walked with the man behind her. Any minute now, she expected to feel a bullet blast into her back. Still, she skirted the debris, maneuvered through file cabinets, boxes. The floor thumped behind her. A bullet pinged from the pole beside her.
She screamed and jerked sideways, tripped and fell.
SEVENTEEN
An agonized cry sounded and chilled Ethan’s soul. It echoed madness, fury, murder. Marianna had done something to make the man very mad. That was definitely not a good thing. Ethan’s heart nearly stopped when he heard the whine and clang of the bullet.
Marianna’s responding scream froze him for a brief second; then he picked up the pace and headed toward her. He wanted to hurry, to burst on the scene and grab her away.
Still, caution reigned. If he went and got himself shot, he wasn’t going to be much help for her. He had to get to her, had to save her.
The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders as his prayers to God continued.
As he swept the basement with his eyes, his senses, the acid in his stomach churned, ate at him. What if he couldn’t save her? What if he failed again? The what – ifs could haunt him.
But God was still in control.
If someone had landed a punch on his jaw, he wouldn’t have been more stunned.
It wasn’t up to Ethan.
It was up to God.
He swung the gun to the right. Someone still thrashed ahead. Another gunshot, the bullet grazing the ceiling above him. He ducked.
God was in control.
Ethan was only a tool.
Marianna’s life was in God’s hands. Not Ethan’s.
The realization scared him to death…and freed him all at the same time. What if God chose to let Marianna die at the hands of the man who had her, the man who still screamed obscenities and threats?
Please, Lord, use me. I believe prayer changes things. I know You don’t need me, but use me to save her.
Closer, closer to the noise. Where are you, Marianna?
A shuffle to his left. He whirled and stared into Marianna’s shocked, fear-filled eyes; then something hit him in the left shoulder, spinning him around to crash against a file cabinet. Again, Marianna’s scream echoed around him.
He looked down to see a small stain growing larger. Then searing pain hit him. Marianna grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the makeshift wall of shelves where she’d been hiding. Then the shelves parted, crashing to the ground, and the masked gunman stood, his weapon trained on them. Marianna squealed and Ethan thought she sounded more angry than scared.
The man’s blue eyes, rimmed in red, ran with tears – and glittered with rage. Ethan held his gun on him. “Drop it,” he ordered.
A guttural laugh scraped Ethan’s ears. Then to his horror and fury, the man turned his gun on Marianna and said, “You drop it.”
Cold fear settled in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. If he dropped the gun, they were dead. If he took a chance and shot the man, the guy might get a shot off and Marianna would be dead regardless.
Please, Lord, a little help.
Marianna knew Ethan would drop his weapon to save her. She couldn’t let that happen. He already looked pale, his breathing coming in shallow spurts, the stain on his shoulder growing by the minute. The gunman stared at her, and she swallowed at the evil emanating from him. She’d really made him angry with the Mace stunt. Terror washed over her, and she considered her options.
“Don’t drop that gun, Ethan.” She knew her voice shook but didn’t care. The look on his face said he felt he had to protect her, that if something happened to her, he’d never live through it. Not after what had happened to Ashley.
“Why?” Ethan’s simple question caught the man’s attention.
He blinked. “What?”
“Why? What do you want?”
A delaying tactic.
“I don’t have time to explain my reasons to you. Now either drop the gun or she dies.”
She blurted, “He wants Josh’s box.”
The man gritted his teeth. “Shut up.” His finger tightened on the trigger, then Marianna felt herself flying through the air, heard the crack of a gun. Fear cramped her as she heard another loud pop, then gave a grunt as she landed with a thump in a pile of files.
“Ethanl”
No sooner had his name left her lips than SWAT members and local police flooded the place. The gunman lay facedown, screaming his anger, with cuffs encircling each wrist, a steady flow of blood pumping from his right hand. Ethan sagged against a pole, pale, shaken, with a hand pressed against his left side. Blood seeped between his fingers. Marianna scrambled out of the files, ignoring the cloud of dust that hovered around her and scooted over to Ethan. “Ethan, oh, no. You’ve been shot again.”
He grimaced, reached for her and pulled her down to lay a kiss on her lips. When he moved back, he groaned. “I promised myself I was going to do that if you were all right. Are you all right?”
She nodded, tears clogging her throat.
“Then that’s all that matters. I can die a happy man now.” He gave her a weak grin and she shuddered.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I kissed you again. I can die happy now.”
Paramedics began easing him into a horizontal position. Marianna wanted to slug him…and kiss him again. “You’d better not die on me. You’ve got a lot to live for.”
He looked into her eyes, and she could see the emotion behind them. “I’m sorry for what I said in the car…about the cochlear…”
This time it was Marianna who leaned down and kissed him. “Don’t worry about it. I was just a little sensitive about the issue.”
Her heart hurt at the relief she saw flood his face. Then his eyes turned to the still masked gunman. “Who is he?”
She gave a shudder. “Steven Marshbanks, campaign manager for the man who’ll probably be the next governor of South Carolina.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide; then he passed out.
When Ethan wakened, the first thing he noticed was the ache in his shoulder and the fire in his side. The
second thing was the beautiful woman sleeping on the couch beside him. Shifting, he grunted at the shaft of pain, but Marianna didn’t stir. The door swooshed open and a woman in a white lab coat entered. “Hello, Mr.
O’Hara, and welcome back to consciousness.”
The stirring of the air must have swept over Marianna, because her eyes popped open and she sat up. Immediately her gaze darted to Ethan and a warmth he’d never felt before coursed through him as he saw the relief in her eyes that he was safe.
And would live.
She gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll wait outside if you like.”
The doctor glanced at the chart, then looked at Marianna. “That’s all right. Mr. O’Hara will be staying with us one more night. If all goes well, he’ll be released to head home tomorrow. The bullet in his shoulder passed clean through, causing only some minor damage. The bullet in his side just creased it.” She gave him a pointed look. “You are one very lucky man.”
He looked at Marianna. “The luckiest.”
Then the doctor said to Marianna, “He’s healing nicely, and as long as he doesn’t overdo it, he will be good as new in a couple of months.”
The doctor left and Marianna turned to say something to him, but before she had a chance, the door opened and Victor, Ethan’s boss, entered. “Ethan, glad to see you awake. I do appreciate you not dying on me as I need some details filled in on this blank report.”
A grin stretched across Ethan’s lips. “Good to see, you too, Chief.
Try to go easy on the sympathy, will you?”
Victor’s expression softened for a fraction of a second. “Glad you’re all right, man. We let your parents know what happened. They said they’ d stop by shortly.”
“Thanks.” He wondered if they would, though. Not wanting to dwell on that topic, he said, “So, fill us in. What was so important that Steven Marshbanks risked his career, his life and everything he holds dear to get his hands on?”
Victor nodded toward Marianna. “She gave us the box that he seemed to be after. Apparently, Josh snatched a flash drive with a lot of incriminating evidence.”
“Really? What was on it?”
“An entire list of campaign contributors, the amounts they gave…and where the funds went, a lot of personal spending, bank account numbers, investments – all kinds of stuff.”
“Whoa. Where did the funds go?”
Victor grunted. “A lot of places they shouldn’t have. And we played a little game with Gerald Chambers. When we told Gerald we had Steven Marshbanks in custody and the man was casting all the blame on him, the boy sang like Tweety.”
“What did Chambers have to do with Marshbanks?”
Victor leaned against the edge of the bed, and Marianna spoke for him. “The three of them were all connected, weren’t they? Roland Luck, Gerald Chambers and Steven Marshbanks.”
“Yep.” Victor nodded and Ethan tried to put it all together, but his brain felt a big foggy. He blamed it on the pain meds, not the woman who’d walked up and taken hold of his hand.
“So?”
“So,” Marianna said, thoughtfully, “Roland Luck came across the evidence. As the campaign manager, he would have to keep an accounting of the money, know where it was spent, and so forth.”
Victor nodded. “Right. Apparently, he noticed something amiss and did a little digging, trying to figure out what was going on. He copied the stuff to a flash drive and took it home with him on a weekend visit to his parents.”
Ethan chimed in. “That must have been what he was looking for when he went by his parents’ house in the middle of the week. And when he didn’t find it, he realized Josh must have snatched it and taken it to school.”
“He actually searched your classroom, Marianna,” Victor said, “but you never realized it.”
“I knew someone had messed with my desk that morning! It was the week after Suzanne’s funeral. I went back to work and my desk had been rearranged…everything was…off.”
Ethan’s lips tightened at the thought of the invasion of her privacy…her classroom, her home…her life. “When he didn’t find it there, he went to your house.”
“Suzanne,” Marianna said, breathing.
Victor nodded. “That was pure accident, we believe. Roland figured the house would be empty for a while, but Suzanne walked in on him. It scared him. She started screaming at him, she grabbed for the phone to call the police and he shoved her. She fell, hit her head and bled to death.”
Tears leaked down Marianna’s cheeks. “It’s all so needless. If she’d stayed at work, she’d still be alive.”
Ethan shook his head and squeezed Marianna’s hand. He looked at Victor. “So, I’m guessing it’s not a coincidence that Roland Luck died in that car accident.”
“Nope. We’re pretty sure that was a setup. Failed brakes on a steep, winding mountainous road.” He shook his head. “Steven Marshbanks arranged the meeting for the campaign coordinators and volunteers. At the top of the mountain. He cut the brake line. Luck got in the car, started down and ended up over the side. Poor guy never had a chance. He was just trying to figure out where the money was going and who was behind the theft of it. So he broke into Marianna’s house to find the drive, caused Suzanne’s death – and ended up dead himself for his efforts.”
“And Marshbanks is spilling all this?”
Victor shrugged. “Hey, we got him for kidnapping, attempted murder, and every other charge you can possibly think of. I think we can even get him for a terrorist act because of the bomb he brought into the school. Against his lawyer’s advice, this guy is talking faster than we can listen, trying to cut a deal.”
“Okay, Roland killed Suzanne by accident.” Ethan mused. “Then Gerald was the one in Marianna’s house that night she called me.”
“Yeah, the DNA evidence showed us that, plus, he finally confessed. It seems that Roland was so riddled with guilt about what he’d done to Suzanne that he went back and told Marshbanks all about it, including the fact that Roland suspected Clayton Robertson was helping himself to campaign funds.”
Marianna took over, thinking out loud. “But it wasn’t Clayton. It was Marshbanks – the very man Roland took into his confidence.”
“Which is why Roland ended up dead. Marshbanks realized Roland had the evidence but had lost it, couldn’t find it at your house…. So, Marshbanks had to get his hands on that flash drive – and fast.”
“Which is why he came after me – or rather, Josh’s box. He figured I’d put it where I always did. When I didn’t send it home as usual, he came after it. And he probably didn’t want to call asking for it because he didn’t want to draw attention to it. What if I’d been the kind of person who’d look at it? No, he couldn’t risk that.” Marianna’s shoulders drooped. “But how did Marshbanks and Gerald Chambers get together?”
Victor held up a finger. “That one took a bit of work. Roland Luck, Steven Marshbanks and Chase Chambers, Gerald’s father, were all in the army together and big buddies for years. Marshbanks knew he couldn’t have too many unexplained absences with all the campaigning going on, so he hired Gerald to do some of his dirty work for him. That kid’s been in trouble since he got caught with a knife in elementary school. Marshbanks knew this and was able to talk him into breaking into Marianna’s house by promising him big bucks and a huge political future. Gerald was dumb enough to fall for it. If he hadn’t been caught, I can guarantee you, Gerald would be dead right now.”
“At Steven Marshbanks’s hand.”
Ethan watched Marianna’s brain clicking, absorbing the information. He said, “So when Gerald was arrested and the flash drive was still missing, Steven couldn’t take a chance on hiring someone else and had to come and do the dirty work himself.”
Marianna shook her head. “Only he never expected to run into a campus full of people. But why not wait? Why take a building full of hostages?”
“Greed,” Victor said. “On that flash drive was vital information with a deadline
. He had to have it for some investment deal or he would have been out millions of dollars.”
“It wasn’t on the computer Roland Luck copied it from?”
“Apparently not. I think Roland realized to some extent what was going on and in a fit of pique erased a lot of the information, and Marshbanks didn’t know how to get it back. A computer forensics person probably would know, but he couldn’t exactly ask for help on that. So his only hope was that flash drive.”
Ethan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Exhaustion swamped him. He looked back up at his boss. “Thanks, Victor.”
Victor clapped him on the shoulder. “You did a good job, Ethan.
You called everything just right at the school hostage scene. You should feel proud of yourself.”
Emotion clogged his throat. “I’m just glad no one else got hurt.” Victor turned toward the door, saying, “I’ll see you when the doctor releases you back to work.”
“I’ll be back sooner than you think.”
“Hal” Marianna snorted. “I’ll add that to my list of things to discuss with you.”
Ethan raised a brow, loving the fire that lit her eyes from the inside. “My pleasure, ma’am, my pleasure.”
Marianna couldn’t believe everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Incredibly, she felt at peace. About everything Naturally, she felt sorrow at the death of her friend, the trauma her students had suffered and the destructive greed leading people to make decisions that would negatively impact so many lives.
But for her, peace reigned. God was in control. He’d protected her and her students – and used this wonderful man to do so.
“Mom wants you to come to the house when you’re released from the hospital.”
Ethan kept a grip on her hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her knuckles, causing shivers to dance along her nerves. The light in his eyes spoke about feelings he hadn’t allowed to cross his lips yet. She kicked herself. Why had she ever compared this man to Curt Wentworth? The two were as different as night and day.
A Silent Terror Page 18
