Word of Honor

by Terri Blackstock

  “Okay,” Jill said, trying to understand. “So even though Frank Harper is a maniac and is going around targeting people at random, including your family, who is part of your covenant with him…you still have to keep your part of the covenant. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Now Jerry looked confused, and he slumped back in his chair. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. My covenant with my wife is more important than that. But I’ve talked to her and she sounds like she’s in good hands. And you know who blew up the post office, so I’m not keeping anything from you.”

  Jill rubbed her temples. They were beginning to ache. She was bone-tired, and her soul felt bruised. “All right, Jerry. Just a few more questions. I’m curious. You told me that you didn’t become a Christian until after Vietnam, when you were in jail. So how did you have such a strong feeling about covenant before you even knew God?”

  Jerry sat straight again. “See, Frank is a messianic Jew.”

  Jill frowned. “What do you mean? A Christian? Are you trying to tell me Frank Harper is a Christian?”

  “That’s right.”

  “No way!” She got to her feet and shook her head viciously. “Oh, no way! You’ve got some real distorted view of Christianity if you expect me to believe that a terrorist could be a Christian. A cold-blooded killer? The violent person who was chasing me on the causeway?”

  “He’s mentally ill, Jill. He’s not himself.”

  “So…before this…this mine or whatever it was…he was a real Christian? A Jewish Christian?”

  “Well, he was half Jewish. His mother was a Jew. He knew all about covenant. I did believe in God and I believed God punished people for breaking his laws. Frank taught me about the gravity of covenant, and about his covenant with Christ. He was very devout then. A great influence. He impacted so many people. I didn’t accept Christ then, but he laid the groundwork in me. Later, when things changed for him, I couldn’t forget that.”

  She didn’t want to think that the same Christ who loved her also loved Frank Harper. She didn’t want to think he had the same access to God that she had. “I’m sorry, but this is a little much.”

  “I don’t know how God holds the mentally ill accountable,” Jerry said. “All I know is that before he got blown up trying to save me, he loved Jesus. He hasn’t been right since, but I think God must make allowance for that.”

  She felt sick again. She rubbed her eyes, unable to comprehend all of this. Since she couldn’t grasp it, she decided to switch gears. She opened her briefcase. “Jerry, I’m going to do my best to represent you at the arraignment this morning, but they’re not going to release you.”

  “I realize that,” he said.

  “Unless you intend to tell them about Frank Harper. Then maybe there’s a chance they would be lenient…”

  “I’m sure you’ve already told them,” he said.

  “But it would mean so much more coming from you. If you could just tell them the truth about how things worked, how you wound up at the post office, how you wound up at the Flagstaff.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said.

  She slammed her hand on the table. “Why not? They need to know how Frank got you involved, Jerry. They need to know why your pickup was there, why you took a hostage, why he went after Cliff Bertrand.”

  “No, they don’t. They only need his name, and they didn’t get it from me. When he hears about it on the news, he won’t hear that I spilled my guts. Maybe he’ll realize I didn’t tell them.”

  “Jerry, what difference does it make if you did? He knows his picture and name are all over the news.”

  “It makes a difference because he’ll go after my family again if he thinks I broke covenant! He isn’t sane, Jill. He isn’t rational. I’m trying to protect my family!”

  As frustrated as that left her, she knew she couldn’t argue with his logic. She wasn’t sure that he wasn’t absolutely right. Unable to go on, she closed her briefcase, told him she would meet him in court, and left the room.

  While she waited for court to convene, she went into the bathroom, pulled her phone out, and tried to call Dan. But there was no answer. She called Allie to see if Mark was off duty yet and if he knew where Dan was.

  “No, he may be trying to get something worked out about replacing his car,” Allie said.

  Jill sighed. “We kind of got into a fight last night about my staying in the hotel. I just wanted to try to talk it out.”

  Allie was quiet for a moment. “Jill, there’s something I need to tell you. I’m your best friend and I’m not going to let you find out about this from someone else.”

  She fought the urge to hang up. She didn’t know how much more she could take. “Find out about what?”

  “Jill, last night, Mark said that Dan was so mad at you that he kind of went off the deep end. Lisa Manning asked him to dinner tonight, and he said he’d go.”

  “He what?” She swallowed hard, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her before she went into court.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but the man has so much pride. And apparently, you wounded it when you didn’t tell him where you were. So he’s going out with Lisa. He’s a jerk, Jill. That’s all I can say. Just a big jerk.”

  Jill didn’t know how to react. She felt tears pushing to her eyes, but she told herself she couldn’t allow it. Not now. Not when she had to go into court and defend Jerry Ingalls.

  “Well, I guess that speaks volumes,” she managed to say.

  “No, I don’t think it does,” Allie said. “Don’t give up on him. I’m sure it’s just an overreaction.”

  “You just called him a jerk. Which is it?”

  “Well, he’s a jerk that overreacts. Come on, Jill. I really like the two of you together. If you got married, we’d be best friends married to best friends. Don’t let this ruin my dreams.”

  She knew Allie was teasing her, trying to make her laugh, but there didn’t seem to be any mirth left in her. “You know, he can go out with anybody he wants. We don’t have an understanding or anything. We’re not engaged, for heaven’s sake. We’re not even going steady…or whatever they’re calling it now.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke, and she tried to steady it.

  “Jill, I know you’re hurt.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as tears pushed out. She wouldn’t be taking this so hard, she told herself, if she had slept last night. And she would have slept last night if she hadn’t taken her fight with Dan so hard.

  For a moment, she didn’t answer. “I thought we had something. How stupid.” She pinched her tear ducts, trying to stop the tears. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Look, I’ve got to go to court.”

  “Are you okay, Jill?”

  “I’m as okay as I’ve ever been. You know me. I always land on my feet. Knock me down, I bounce right back up.”

  “Like one of those Weebles? You wobble but you don’t fall down?”

  Allie was still trying to get a smile out of her, but she didn’t think she had one in her. “Yeah, something like that.” Her voice cracked with every word. “I’ll talk to you later, Allie.”

  She hung up the phone and leaned over the sink to splash water on her face. She tore a paper towel out of its dispenser and blotted her face as she looked in the mirror. Why had she ever believed she could hold someone like Dan Nichols? He needed someone like Lisa Manning, someone beautiful, young…

  Forcing her thoughts back to Jerry Ingalls, she grabbed her briefcase up and left the bathroom, determined not to think about Dan Nichols again for the rest of the day.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Stan got up early the next morning and drove to Jackson, to the Veterans Administration Hospital where Frank Harper had been a patient for so many years. Some of the FBI agents who were working with him on the case were waiting for him there. They had already cleared it with the administrator to search Frank’s room.

  Stan didn’t know what he had expected, but the men on the war
d looked relatively normal. He and the other agents came in, and an orderly pointed them to the bed Frank Harper had used. Next to it was a locker, and they opened it and saw dozens of articles taped to the inside walls, articles about Waco and Oklahoma City, and the Unabomber, ads for survivalist gear and articles about conspiracies in the government. They found handwritten manuscripts, pages and pages of the same theme. Frank Harper thought he was a prisoner of war, and believed communism had infiltrated the government. The FBI agents took the contents of the locker for evidence. As they tagged and bagged it, they ran across an address book. Jerry Ingalls’s name was written in red ink with several tally marks beside it.

  “Wonder what the tally marks are?” one of the agents said. The psychologist who had worked with Frank for years had led them to his bed, and he stood back, out of the way, as they worked. “Can I take a look?” he asked the agent.

  The agent showed him the marks. “That’s the number of times he visited him,” he said. “He kept score of who came and talked a lot about how only one of the men he saved kept in touch anymore.”

  The agent counted the tally marks. “He came fifteen times. Over how long?”

  “Years,” the doctor said. “There’s no telling how long. But he trusted this Ingalls guy because of that.”

  “Maybe that’s why he went to Newpointe and got Ingalls involved,” Stan said. “He was the only one he trusted.”

  “So now that Ingalls is locked up,” Stan asked, “where else could he be?”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Jerry had a tearful reunion with Debbie in court before he pled not guilty. The judge accepted the plea, but denied Jill’s request to send him home pending trial. It was as Jill had expected, but she still felt like a failure as they led him out of the courtroom.

  When Debbie had left, Jill went back across the street to the police station, and saw Stan driving up. He was beginning to look as tired as she.

  “Stan, have you found Frank Harper yet?” she asked.

  He shook his head and led her into the station. “We found his trail. We know he’s been in New Orleans, and there’s evidence that he’s been in Newpointe and Slidell, but we haven’t been able to find him yet. We think he’s driving a maroon Cavalier, but he’s changing cars every few hours, so there’s no telling.”

  “You’ve got to find him,” Jill said. “Stan, he’s ruining my life. Please.” Her voice broke off, and she covered her face, desperately trying to hide the emotion. “I can’t go home, I can’t go to my office…”

  He looked at her with surprise, then took her arm and led her to his desk. Urging her to sit down, he asked, “Jill, are you all right?”

  Jill realized she was losing her professionalism. She had never done this before. “Yes, I’m all right.” She wiped at the tears falling, and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just—”

  Stan handed her a box of Kleenex. “Jill, you’ve been under a lot of pressure. This would be stressful for anybody. You may even have a little touch of post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  “Give me a break,” she said, jerking a Kleenex out of the box and wiping her nose. “I’m fine, I told you.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Are you speaking as a detective? Collecting clues?”

  “No,” he said. He got up from his desk and came around to take her arm. Gently, he pulled her to her feet. “I’m speaking as your friend. Come on, let’s go to the interrogation room so we can have a little privacy, and you can tell me what’s got you so upset.”

  She didn’t object, just allowed him to usher her into the room. When he closed the door behind them, she sank miserably into a chair. Stan leaned on the edge of the table and looked down at her. “So what’s going on, Jill? I’ve known you to have all sorts of run-ins with danger, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. Is it Dan?”

  She shook her head, but her face belied her denial. Finally, she realized that there was no use denying it. She was as transparent as glass, and she felt that everyone saw clearly what was in her heart—good and bad. “Last night I had this great prayer time, and I came to understand God on a deeper level than I ever have before. And today, everything’s falling apart. This case is cutting into my relationship with Dan,” she said. “It’s ruining everything.”

  “What is?” he asked.

  “The fact that somebody’s trying to kill me. It kind of throws a wet blanket on my mood.”

  Stan smiled. “So you think Dan’s going to quit seeing you because of your mood?”

  “I’m not any fun!” she shouted. “I’m high maintenance. Too much trouble.”

  “Wait,” Stan said, holding up a hand to make her back up. “Has Dan told you this? Because he doesn’t seem like the party animal type to me, and he’s not that shallow. In fact, the Dan I know has been more interested in you since Jerry Ingalls took you hostage. I haven’t seen him backing off because it put you in a bad mood.”

  She got up and shook her head, as if he could never understand. “I’m constantly butting heads with him. It’s like he thinks I’m suicidal, like I’m going to throw myself in front of a bus, just to get that adrenaline rush.”

  “Dan is not that unreasonable,” Stan said. “Jill, have you and Dan had a fight? Have you broken up again?”

  She laughed hard, though there was no humor in it. “It’s worse than that. It’s gone past fighting to indifference. He’s got another date tonight.”

  Stan frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, believe it,” Jill said. “He’s going out with Lisa Manning.”

  Stan’s face went slack. “Lisa Manning? She’s not his type at all.”

  “Au contraire,” she said. “He obviously likes her better than me.” She covered her face, hating herself for exposing her feelings this way. “Oh, Stan, look at me. I’ve never acted with anything less than total professionalism with you, and here I am falling apart like some kind of lovesick teenager. It’s so stupid! I hate myself for this.”

  “Jill, you’re too hard on yourself. I’m not just a cop you butt heads with. I’m your friend. Your brother in Christ. And I do happen to be your deacon, so technically, it’s very normal for you to come to me with your problems.” He hesitated as she looked hopefully up at him, then he felt suddenly inadequate. “The thing is, I don’t have a clue what to tell you.”

  She couldn’t help laughing through her tears. Poor Stan. He’d never bargained for any of this. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “Have you tried talking to Dan?”

  “He’s not answering my calls,” she said. “And last night he was really upset. I think he’s finished with me.”

  “Then he’s not worthy of you.”

  “Right.”

  Stan looked down at the floor, as if racking his brain for wisdom. “Well…he’s not. If he takes off at the slightest little thing…”

  The door flew open just then, startling them both, and Sid Ford stuck his head in. “Stan, Celia’s on the phone. I think it’s an emergency.”

  “Excuse me,” Stan said and dashed back to his desk. Jill followed, wiping her face.

  “Celia?” he asked. “Honey, are you all right? Really? Are you sure? No, no, I’ll be right there. Can you wait? Do you need an ambulance?”

  Jill forgot her own problems. Her heart began to pound. Celia was in labor.

  Stan slammed down the phone and yelled out, “We’re having a baby!” Then he grabbed his keys and ran out of the building without another word.

  Jill began to laugh as she watched him. Then her laughter melted into more tears, as she realized that the whole world was rotating and moving and changing all the time. But it was all passing her by. Friends were marrying, having babies, buying homes, saving for college…And the only relationship she’d ever had with that kind of potential had just slipped through her fingers.

  She thought of going to the hospital with them to get her mind
off of Dan, but she knew it was no use. Celia would probably be in labor for hours, and she would just be in the way. No, she didn’t belong there. She didn’t really belong anywhere.

  Feeling safer in the police station than anywhere else, she asked to borrow the phone at one of the empty desks. She called Sheila for her messages, then spent the next couple of hours returning calls, realizing that she was just marking time, waiting for the minutes to pass.

  She wished with all her heart that she could go home, but she couldn’t. Mark and Allie’s was the closest to home she could go tonight. And as soon as she could pull herself together, that was exactly where she would go.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  A storm was moving in as Jill headed out to her car, and black clouds darkened the sky. Any minute, it would begin to rain. It would pound down on Dan and Lisa on their date, she thought, and if there was any justice, they would have forgotten their umbrellas. Lisa would get drenched and look like a wet cocker spaniel.

  With her remote key, she clicked “unlock,” and saw the light inside the car come on. She opened the back door and dropped her briefcase on the seat.

  “Jill!”

  She turned around and saw Nick standing in the truck bay at the fire station next door. She closed her door and headed across the lawn. “Hey, Nick. Don’t you ever leave this place?”

  Nick shrugged. “For some reason, we single guys are the ones they call when they want to trade shifts.” He bent down and looked into her red, bloodshot eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

  “No, I haven’t,” she lied. “Why do you say that?”

  “The Dan thing,” he said. “I’ve been praying for you.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I guess everybody knows. He didn’t even bother to tell me himself.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Jill. But if it’s any consolation, he’s a miserable man right now.”

  She looked up at her preacher. “Yeah, that is some consolation. He deserves to be miserable.”

  Nick gave her a wry grin, but she couldn’t seem to return it. “Don’t give up on him.”