by DiAnn Mills
Shaking off the lack of sleep, Jacob snatched up his keys and headed to his assigned vehicle for the day. He didn’t talk to any of the other agents, and the last person he wanted to see was Danika. She and Barbara were in this thing together to discredit him to his family and peers. But he’d prevail. He wasn’t a loser. Not yet, anyway.
The morning wore on with the signs leading nowhere. His mood plummeted.
His cell phone rang, and when he saw it was Barbara, anger surfaced again. He’d have given both arms for it to have been Nadine.
“Jacob, we have a problem.” Her voice trembled.
“What’s wrong? Out of bread and milk?”
“Keep your sarcasm for another day,” she said. “Nadine has run away. She’s taken her clothes and left a note.”
This had to be a ploy on Barbara’s part. His daughter would not leave home. Would she? “What did the note say?”
“You’re not going to like this. But since you asked, I’ll read it to you: ‘Mom, I can’t live with Daddy any longer. I’m tired of waiting for him to change, and he just gets meaner. I tried to be patient and be strong for Kaitlyn, Amber, and Jake. But I can’t. I’m sorry.’”
“Did you put her up to it?”
“Why do you say such cruel things?”
He heard the belligerence, the disrespect. He should be used to it by now.
“Sensor tripped at 210,” the radio blared.
“I have to go.” He disconnected his phone and responded to his radio. “I’m on it.”
Jacob sped up his truck. He didn’t want any backup. What he needed was to sink his teeth into his job and forget the stacked-up garbage at home. He’d call Barbara as soon as this situation was handled. Perhaps they could discuss the whereabouts of their daughter without a fight.
A Border Patrol truck raced behind him.
Jacob cursed. “Go chase your own illegals,” he muttered. “These are mine.” He knew his attitude was wrong. That wasn’t the way the BP worked together; they were a team.
A woman stepped out from the brush, saw his truck, and disappeared into the thicket on the opposite side of the road. Jacob slid the truck to a stop. Grabbing only his keys, he took out after her. He caught sight of a man who grasped the hand of the woman. Together they ran, shoving aside tall grass and brush in an effort to lose the BP. If there were more illegals, they were well hidden. Adrenaline flowed, pumping through his veins more powerfully than the anger that had nipped at his heels all morning.
Jacob shouted the canned phrase for them to stop, hoping it would bring them to a halt.
The woman dropped a plastic bag. No doubt containing all of her personal belongings.
He closed the distance between him and the couple. With his chest heaving, Jacob allowed all his frustration to propel him a few more feet. He reached out and batted the woman’s shoulder, throwing the couple off balance and tumbling into the brush.
Jacob seized the man by the shoulders and sank his fingers into the thin flesh of both of the man’s arms. He yelped and tried to shake off Jacob’s hold. The woman screamed.
Jacob yanked the man to his feet and slammed a fist into his jaw. The sound of flesh grinding flesh should have alerted him. He knew better. He knew to stop. But he seemed to be fueled by the blood streaming from the man’s face and his own knuckles. Shouts from the two agents behind him startled him, but Jacob tuned them out and swung another punch into the man’s abdomen.
The agents seized Jacob’s arms and dragged him from the man’s body. Jacob struggled, curses falling from his mouth like an old man’s dribble.
“What are you thinking?” Bud said, a veteran agent who had attended the academy with Jacob. “Look at his face.”
Jacob’s gaze flew to the blood-covered man. Horror over what he’d done swept through him. In the sweltering heat, he shivered. What had happened to him? His record had once been impeccable—until two years ago.
“I’ll take him to the hospital,” Jacob managed. He watched Bud help the illegal to his feet. The woman clung to the beaten man and wept.
“Don’t think so,” Bud said. “We’re driving back to the station to report this.”
Realizing he’d beaten a defenseless man sent an acid cocktail to the pit of Jacob’s stomach. He’d violated this man’s rights as a human being. And his fit of rage may have destroyed his hope for salvaging his career. His failure to control his temper would slip right into place with his inability to lead his family.
“Nadine has run away.”
Jacob forced his attention on the distraught woman. She glared at him as though he were a rabid animal. Her dark eyes seemed to penetrate his soul. If he still had one.
Chapter 11
Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to poverty will be cursed.
Proverbs 28:27
Alex squeezed his truck into the elementary school parking lot’s last available slot labeled Visitors. This morning he’d be a part of a community project offering free medical checkups and vaccinations to all those elementary-age kids entering school in approximately one month. A number of free clinics in the city offered the same services, but his understanding was that here some of the teachers would be on hand to meet the kids and talk to parents. Other professionals had volunteered their time to administer dental exams and free hearing and vision screenings, and a local TV station was giving away backpacks filled with school supplies. Already the school’s entrance swarmed with kids and parents. The white Channel 5 TV van sat next to the curb, its microwave antenna raised high in the clear sky and pointed toward the station.
He smiled at the gray-haired woman sitting beside him in his truck, a retired nurse who worked harder as a volunteer than she had done for a paycheck. With her hair brushed back into a ponytail and tied with a red scarf, she looked like a picture of nostalgia, complete with a white blouse and turned-up pant legs on her jeans.
“We’ll work our tails off today, Nancy.”
“It’s not work when you’re helping families stay healthy.” She opened the passenger door and stepped down. “Get your stuff, Doc. We have a schedule to follow.”
He laughed and exited his side of the truck. “Have you thought about hitting the road with a motivational speaking tour?”
“Couldn’t pay me enough.” Nancy hoisted a shoulder bag and reached into the rear seat of the truck. She grabbed a plastic container that held the required forms, a blood pressure cuff, an otoscope, tongue depressors, a stethoscope, plenty of sharpened pencils, and a good supply of yellow smiley-face stickers. “I hope you have more balloons than the last time,” she said, then took off down the sidewalk at a fast clip without him, her typical pace.
He lifted an insulated refrigeration chest filled with vaccinations from the other side of the seat. Supporting that in one hand, he wrapped his fingers around the plastic box containing the all-in-one needles and syringes, prepackaged alcohol swabs, a red plastic container to hold used syringes, and additional balloons to please Nurse Nancy.
Balancing his supplies with both arms, Alex made his way up the sidewalk to the entrance. He focused on a woman and a little dark-haired girl who waited with the others to enter the school. She turned his way, and he saw it was Danika Morales—Agent Danika Morales, as Jacob had so pointedly corrected. Dare he try again to be friendly? Her rejection early Sunday morning had burst his balloon. Yet he wasn’t a quitter; he simply failed a lot when he approached women. Perhaps this time his devilish good looks and irresistible charm would persuade her to ask him out.
She waved, and he returned the gesture. That was a good sign. The closer he walked toward her, the bigger her smile. At least he thought so. She wore a light blue knit top and earrings to match. He had no clue why Danika Morales held him captive with just one look, but everything he’d seen in the way she handled herself and treated others spoke of integrity. When he and Toby used to talk, he bragged about his gorgeous wife and all the things she did for their family. Toby
used to worry about the danger, especially when she worked nights. He should have worried about himself.
“Good morning,” she said. “Are you our resident doctor?”
“Sure am. I’m armed with disposable shots and little vials of medicine.” He glanced down at the little girl. “Oops, I shouldn’t have mentioned those.”
Danika placed an arm around the little girl’s shoulder. “She’s hearing-impaired and doesn’t read lips yet, so you’re safe.”
Odd. Toby had never mentioned this. He set the boxes on the pavement and bent to the little girl’s level. After taking a moment to give himself a refresher in sign language, he signed, “Hello. What is your name?”
She raised her gaze to her mother.
“It’s all right,” Danika signed.
The little girl signed, “Tiana.”
“Beautiful child.” Beautiful mommy too. Alex met Danika’s gaze. He saw a spark of something that didn’t look like rejection to him. “The lines should go fairly fast.”
“She’s up-to-date on her shots. I’m volunteering for the morning.”
Alex stood. “What area?”
“Assisting moms to complete the school forms. Tiana is going to help me.”
“Have her come by my section when she’s finished being your assistant, and I’ll make sure she gets a balloon and a sticker.”
Danika smiled, and he felt his knees weaken. “Go ahead and tell her yourself. Looks like your signing is pretty good.”
He bent again to Tiana’s side and told her about seeing him later. The little girl’s fingers rapidly conveyed her enthusiasm.
As much as he’d have liked to stay and talk, he needed to set up inside. Standing to face Danika one more time, he reached for a handful of courage. “I’d like to get to know you, but I understand your hesitation.” He handed her a business card. “My personal cell number is on the back. When you’re ready, let me know. All of us need a friend.”
She tilted her head, the highlights in her hair picking up the morning sunlight. “Thanks, Alex. I’ll think about it.”
Hope. What more could a man ask for?
* * *
Danika entered the two-story professional building where Dr. Shannon Perry met with her patients. The marquee read Christian Counselor, but Danika referred to her as “counselor extraordinaire.” No sarcasm entered her thoughts. Shannon had dug deep into Danika’s heart and pulled up emotional trash that should have been deposited into the dump years ago. Returning nightmares and the old feelings of poor self-worth indicated the separation from counseling had been premature.
The tall, thin woman, who wore a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and designer jeans like a runway model, greeted her with a hug. “Missed you. I’m looking forward to catching up.”
Once seated, Danika took a deep breath. She began with Tiana’s behavior problems and moved on to Jacob and Barbara’s relationship and Nadine’s disappearance, then ended with her attraction to Dr. Alex Price.
“What about your job at the Border Patrol?” Shannon’s smile was meant to relax Danika, but nervousness had caused her stomach to roll.
“It’s what keeps me sane. It’s my purpose, my call of duty. I believe I’m good at what I do.” Thoughts about Felipe and his family’s immigration troubles had bothered her all day. Commitment to keeping the borders safe didn’t come with ifs, but that didn’t mean she lacked sympathy for the miserable lot of too many would-be immigrants.
Shannon smiled. “I’m breaking open a can of Diet Coke with that one.” She slipped from her chair and opened a small refrigerator. Handing Danika a can, she studied her for a moment. “Counseling is not just for those who are having problems managing the stress in their lives. It’s for the healthy too, a validation of how we can praise God through the good and challenging times.”
“I’m journaling and keeping a list of God’s blessings.” Danika flipped the tab on the can. “However, my relationship with Him is not what it used to be.”
“Still angry?”
Danika nodded. “Guess I need to get over it and move on.” For over a year she’d attempted to put aside the many times she asked why He had to take Toby from her and Tiana. By the time she stood face-to-face with God, why Toby had betrayed her and been murdered wouldn’t matter. At least that is what she kept telling herself.
Shannon leaned toward Danika. “Talk to me about your anger and grief. That’s the only way you’ll find the peace you so desperately crave.”
Danika agreed, but it was so painful to discuss the feelings she’d shoved to a remote corner of her heart.
“I understand the difficulty in talking about these issues, and I want to help. The nightmares will continue to haunt you until you are able to let it go.”
“And that’s why I’m here.” Danika heard the resolve in her own words and knew she must be transparent in order to heal. “I want to move on with my life.” She shivered. “I’m ready to take the next step.”
Chapter 12
There is nothing—no circumstances, no trouble, no testing—that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has come past God and Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.
Alan Redpath
Jacob had to get back to work. The flu had kicked his rear, and the drain on him physically and mentally only served to depress him even more. By Thursday afternoon he decided dying couldn’t be any worse than sitting on the toilet and throwing up in a trash can. He forced himself out of bed and drove to see the doctor. A prescription to stop the vomiting and a sleep aid helped, but it didn’t change what he had to face at the station or the problems at home. As he lay in bed and watched the late afternoon shadows creep across his walls, the situations crashing against his brain started his stomach to rumble again. He didn’t feel like talking to his kids, and he dreaded Barbara coming home from work.
Where is Nadine?
The whole discipline process at the station triggered paralyzing anxiety. Jacob refused to admit to fear. That was beneath him. But a veteran of the Border Patrol shouldn’t have to go through such humiliation for a minor infraction. The illegal man he’d punched had been interviewed, and the two agents who witnessed the incident had given their testimony. So Jacob had made a mistake. Write him up, stick it in the file, and let him get back to work. Except his supes viewed the day’s happenings according to the rule book. Before Jacob was dismissed for the day, he’d been given a report that stated the Office of Inspector General, the Border Patrol Internal Affairs, and the Office of Professional Responsibility would receive immediate notice of the incident. The ultimatum at the station came from Chief Patrol Agent Ed Jimenez—mandatory counseling and administrative work until his supes decided his future with the Border Patrol. This was his second offense, according to them. It could be the end of his career and certainly the end to any hope of a supervisor position.
Jacob had been an agent for twenty years, and he’d seen a lot of changes. Some he liked, and some he despised. All the new blood exiting the academy as a result of the former presidential administration’s request for more agents consisted of some kids filling a man’s shoes. The Border Patrol was a paramilitary organization, not a place for little boys to play army. The mentoring program with seasoned agents was a start, but Jacob hadn’t signed up to babysit. To keep the job he was so dissatisfied with meant going through a company counselor who wanted him to discuss his feelings. “Anger management” is what Jimenez called it. Jacob planned to fight it for as long as possible. He needed his spare hours to make extra money that would put Nadine through college, if she ever decided to come home.
The counseling aspect infuriated him the most. His wife needed counseling, not him. It was her fault his family and his job were falling apart. How ironic that his wife who had pledged her love to him nineteen years ago had forgotten her vows. She’d set out to destroy him ever since Toby had been killed, and now it looked like she was succeeding.
Jacob
glanced at the time. Barbara would be home soon. Strange how he could once love a woman and now wish she was out of his life. He needed to get back to work—face the repercussions of his actions and get on with his life. But the doctor had given him written orders to stay home until Saturday. One more day stuck at home in bed and he’d need intense anger management.
Chapter 13
I have known sorrow and learned to aid the wretched.
Virgil
By Friday, Danika had serious concerns about Jacob, and Barbara hadn’t called during the week. News about his abusing an illegal spread like a twenty-four-hour virus. He faced disciplinary action, and it wasn’t the first time. Danika would not have been surprised if he’d been dismissed on the spot. She heard the murmurings, but she’d witnessed his slow progression into a bitter man. He’d alienated his old friends and hadn’t attempted to make new ones. She realized the shock of learning about Nadine’s drug problem could have pushed him over the edge, but it didn’t justify beating a man. She wished she had free time during her shift to visit Barbara at the accounting firm, but that luxury was not for Border Patrol agents.
She punched in Barbara’s cell phone number. “I’m worried sick about Jacob and Nadine,” Danika said. “Not just them, but all of you.”
“I should have called you Sunday, and here it is Friday. The problems keep escalating.”
Solutions for Nadine must not have been found. Now they also faced Jacob’s problems at work. Home life for Barbara must tug on all her emotion strings.
“What can I do to help? The last time we talked, you were going to try to find someone for Nadine to talk with.”
“That’s minor compared to what has happened.” Barbara’s tone was flat, almost scary. Normally she bubbled with enthusiasm about life and all the happenings going on with her family—even while she lived in denial of Jacob’s bullying.
