It was only a little after seven when she pulled the car from the garage. She was relieved to find nearly a full tank of gas, and after one quick glance at the list, she mustered up her courage and pulled the car into the street.
Her nerves were stretched taut like radio-tower guy wires. Every-thing seemed to startle her. The traffic was heavy. She’d forgotten it was Monday morning. Rush hour began early in Denver, and this day was no exception. She maneuvered the car onto Interstate 25 and merged with the oncoming traffic. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, and her hands began to shake uncontrollably. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she watched for her exit with an apprehensive eye.
Splash! A semi roared past her, spraying up water against her windshield. Cheryl let out a cry and swerved away, almost hitting the line of cars in the next lane. Fighting her fears, she steadied the wheel and signaled to move into the right-hand lane. Two more miles, she noted. Just two more miles and she would be at the appropriate exit. She tried to think about days gone by when she’d whip up and down the interstate like it was her own private drive. She’d been brave then. Brave and certain that nothing bad could ever happen to her. Well, that theory had certainly been blown apart.
She exited the freeway and made her way to the address on the list. The streets were waterlogged, and everything around her looked saturated from the early morning storm. The sky remained gray, lifeless, as though it couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain again or not. She hated days like this. She always had. They seemed to drag on in indifference to everyone, not really threatening, but neither did they signal comfort. It was rather a harsh reminder of her own life. She was on permanent hold, or so it seemed. Neither living nor dead. Just existing.
She turned off the paved roads and found herself on a gravel road heading even farther south of town. The houses and businesses were fewer here, although there were still enough to give her a sense of security. She hadn’t thought about anyone trying to harm her or approach her for an interview before leaving the house. What if someone had followed her? Someone from the paper or television! They might try to photograph her.
She glanced around, checking her side and rearview mirrors. There didn’t appear to be any ominous vehicle behind her, and no one seemed to give her the slightest attention as she drove past. Good, she thought and rested a bit easier.
Pulling up to a mailbox that marked a muddy drive, Cheryl noted that this was the first address on the list. A chain-link fence kept intruders from going any farther than pulling in off the street, and Cheryl decided to park and give the ring of keys a try.
Hesitantly, she got out and glanced around. No one seemed at all interested in what she was doing, and there didn’t appear to be any other traffic on the road. She played at the padlock, trying first one key and then another, and had nearly given up when the mechanism re-leased and the lock sprang open. Her mouth went dry. So far, so good. She swung the gate open and hurried back to the car.
Pulling down the muddy drive, Cheryl came face-to-face with a metal structure. It appeared to be some kind of storage building or small warehouse. Cheryl had the distinct feeling that she was about to unlock a great many secrets as she pulled the car around to the back. Wonder-ing what she should do, she sat for several minutes in the silence of the morning. It would seem, she reasoned, that maybe Curt hadn’t been so far out of line to believe that her father had played a much bigger role in the operation than anyone had imagined. After all, she was here, and the place looked deserted and seemed a very reasonable location for the exchange of drugs.
She got out of the car and walked around to the side of the building where a single door and window were located. She tried the handle and found it locked. Remembering the keys, she started back for the car just as she caught the sound of another car coming down the main gravel road. She froze. What if someone had followed her here? She ran for her car and watched from its safety as the other vehicle passed down the road. It had slowed just enough to make Cheryl aware that whether they were there for her benefit or not, they were definitely interested in what was going on. As soon as they were well out of sight, Cheryl flooded the gas, spinning mud everywhere as she made her escape.
Not even bothering to relock the fence gate, Cheryl hurried back into the city. Her heart was still racing when she made the street corner where her beauty salon was located. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to go home just yet, she thought. Maybe I should stop and talk to Michelle.
Pulling into the parking lot, Cheryl suddenly realized it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. The salon wouldn’t be open for at least two hours. Feel-ing rather foolish for her fears, she headed home and decided that she knew enough. She wasn’t going to make any more amateur sleuthing trips. She hit the garage opener remote and pulled the car inside.
For several minutes she sat behind the wheel and forced herself to calm down. Whatever the list represented, there was no way she wanted it to fall into the hands of the DEA. It was hard enough to realize that her father had been involved with the drugs, but the list seemed to make it clear—that, along with the money and the fact that Curt had spoken of her father’s confession. She’d never known Curt to lie, even when it caused someone else discomfort.
That, perhaps, was the hardest thing of all to realize. Curt probably had every reason to suspect her father, and he was probably right about Grant as well. Suddenly she felt very alone, and the image of Erik Connors came to mind. She wished he were there to offer her his impish smile and soft-spoken words of comfort. Maybe she should call him.
“Maybe I will,” she murmured. “There’s no reason I shouldn’t.”
twelve
Erik wanted to sing all the way to Cheryl’s house. She’d called him. She’d actually asked him to come to her house. Uncertain exactly what it meant, Erik tried hard not to get his hopes up. It could be anything. She might want to tell him to stay away from her. On the other hand… He smiled. It could be that she was healing enough that she desired companionship.
He wheeled Ole Blue into the circular drive and shut off the engine. “Lord,” he whispered before getting out of the truck, “please don’t let me say the wrong thing. This looks like a good thing here, and maybe Cheryl’s ready to accept that You really do care about her.” He glanced at the house and felt a twinge of emotion as he continued. “Maybe she’s ready to accept that I care about her, too.” He sighed and opened the door. “Just don’t let my feelings get in the way of helping her see that she can be forgiven. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
In the fading light, he noticed muddy tire tracks on the wet pavement of the driveway. It had drizzled rain off and on throughout the day, but not enough to wash away the evidence that someone had come to visit. Apprehensive, he wondered who was pestering Cheryl now. He ambled up the walkway and reached out to knock on the door just as Cheryl opened it and greeted him.
“I’m glad you could come over,” she said rather nervously.
Erik noticed that she was straining to look behind him, so he, too, turned to look around. “You expecting someone?” His heart took a bit of a nosedive, fearing that the only reason she had called was in order to have him strong-arm another unwanted visitor.
“No, just you,” she admitted softly.
Erik turned back around and smiled. “Good. I like the sound of that.”
She gave a shot at smiling and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
He followed her into the house just as the grandfather clock chimed seven. “So what did you do all day?”
“Nothing. At least nothing worth talking about,” Cheryl said, directing them to the family room in the back of the house.
“I saw muddy tire tracks in the drive. Did you have visitors?”
Cheryl stopped abruptly. Her face seemed quite pale. “Ah, well, CJ stopped by for just a few minutes. She wanted to make sure I was okay after my last encounter with the DEA. She still hasn’t managed to talk to Curt about it, but she intends to.”
“What happened
?” Erik asked, noting the agitation in her voice.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, waving him to take a seat. “Are you sure that you didn’t already have plans for the evening?”
The evening? Erik wondered to himself. She’d said nothing about spending the evening with her. He decided to play it cool and not let on how surprised he was by this turn of events. “No, I didn’t have anything planned. I had to work overtime. You called just as I got home from the hospital. It was absolutely perfect timing.”
“I tried calling earlier,” she admitted. “I didn’t know what your schedule was.”
“Well, it’s fairly simple—at least usually it’s fairly simple.
I go to work at five-thirty in the morning. Actually my shift starts at six o’clock, but I have to change into scrubs, so I need extra time. Then I work until two-thirty, shower and change back into my street clothes, and home I go. Today was extrabusy so they asked me to work over.”
Cheryl nodded. “What all do you do at the hospital?”
Erik laughed. “It’d be easier to tell you what I don’t do. Lab technicians hardly lead the glamorous life.” He plopped down on the couch, hoping she’d do the same. When she did, he continued. “I draw blood from patients, and then I take it back to the lab and analyze it. Some-times, the vampires do all the sticks, that is to say the lab assistants do all the blood collections.” He grinned. “We have our own language at the lab.”
“So you work with a microscope and decide what’s wrong with people?”
“Sometimes, but a lot of times I run the blood through a series of machines. We have great computerized testing these days, and it’s a wonder what you can learn about a person from blood. Your blood tells the story of your life.” He thought of how this might make a great way to steer the conversation toward Christ, but before he could speak, Cheryl was asking him another question.
“Do you have a…well…someone in your life?” She lowered her gaze, seeming quite shy about asking.
“You mean like a girlfriend?” She barely glanced up and nodded. Erik shook his head. “No, there’s no one at all.”
“Why not?” she asked, seeming less embarrassed.
Erik tried to keep the conversation very casual. He didn’t want to alarm her by bringing his new feelings for her into the picture. “I guess I just never found the right woman. For a long time I concentrated on school. I became a physical therapist before going back to college to become a lab tech.
Everyone thought I was crazy because physical therapy pays a whole lot better, but I wanted to have a broad scope of training.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’d kind of like to go into missions work,” he answered. He wondered what she’d think of this.
“You mean like to Africa or India?” She seemed horrified.
“No, probably more like South or Central America. There’s a large number of destitute people down there, and they need a great many things. It also allows me to get in some extra flying time. That way I can keep up my license.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Another pilot.”
Erik grinned. “Do you have a lot of us in your life?”
She seemed to grow sad. “Used to.”
Erik didn’t want to see her withdraw into the past, so he hurried forward with the conversation. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you? What are you going to do with yourself now that you’ve nearly recovered from the shooting?”
She shook her head and looked away. “I don’t know. Daddy always figured I’d come into the business. O&F Aviation business, that is. I guess he figured I’d make a good ornamental executive or something like that.”
“You didn’t see it that way?”
“Not really. I’m not cut out for much. I don’t have skills or schooling or training, and I certainly don’t have the interest.”
“What would you like to do? What are you good at?”
“Nothing,” she answered flatly. “Nothing but causing trouble… apparently.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Erik said. “But I didn’t come over here for a pity party.” Cheryl’s head snapped up at this. “I figure you have enough time by yourself to wallow in sorrow.” He smiled. “Am I right?”
Reluctantly she nodded in agreement. “I didn’t call you over for that reason, either.”
“Good. Why don’t you tell me why you did call?”
“I just thought some company would be nice.”
Erik thought she seemed to be hiding something, but he didn’t push her. Maybe once she relaxed and realized he was willing to go the distance with her, she’d open up and trust him to understand her fears. “Do you want to go out?” he asked softly.
“No!” she exclaimed so quickly that Erik was certain something was wrong.
“Might I ask why?”
She looked at him, her blue eyes wide with fear. “I’m not ready for that.”
“Okay. You want me to go rent some movies, maybe pick up some Chinese food again?”
“No!” She rubbed her arms as if chilled in spite of her long-sleeved blouse.
The desperation in her voice made Erik unable to remain silent. “Are you afraid of something in particular or just everything in general?”
“It’s just a bad day for me, okay? First the storm and then…” She fell silent.
“Then?” He reached out to touch her arm. “Then what?”
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
Erik was beginning to get a little frustrated. He wasn’t about to sit around all evening trying to pull conversation out of Cheryl. On the other hand, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings or to cause her more grief. He didn’t know what to do. Something was really bothering her, and he wanted to help. Then it dawned on him that maybe she’d changed her mind about having him over. Maybe she regretted it and just didn’t know how to tell him to go.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No! Why would you think that?” She seemed very upset with his question.
“I don’t know. I guess because you’re acting a bit strange. You’re obviously upset about something, but you won’t talk to me, and I thought maybe you were beginning to regret calling me over.”
“Not at all.” Cheryl let out a heavy sigh and seemed to search for words. “It’s my father’s birthday.”
Erik relaxed. That explained a great deal. Of course she was having difficulty with the day. “Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place? I would have understood.”
“I didn’t want to be a baby about it all. It isn’t the only thing that has me down, but it’s one of the biggest reasons.”
“So what do we do about it?”
Cheryl shrugged. “I’m not sure. Mary left some things to eat, and I could warm them up.”
“That sounds good.” He motioned to the television and video machine. “Do you have any movies you’d like to watch?”
“I don’t know. We have a whole cabinet of movies over there,” she said, pointing to a huge mahogany cabinet. “You could pick out something. Only…”
“Only?”
“Don’t make it sad. I don’t think I could take sad.”
“Okay. You go fix us up something to eat, and I’ll look for a non-sad movie.”
Cheryl smiled weakly, and Erik noticed that for the first time since he’d seen her in the hospital, she was wearing the lightest touch of makeup. She’s pretty, he thought. No, she was beautiful, and he knew that he was losing his heart to her. In spite of the fact that she’d warned him not to.
“Are you sure you don’t mind staying?”
Erik wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her over and over that he didn’t mind, but he was afraid that such a display of open emotion would send her running. So he played it as nonchalant as he possibly could. “I didn’t have anything better to do.”
She seemed satisfied with this and took herself off in the direction of the kitchen. After she’d gon
e, Erik let out his breath. His heart was pounding at ninety miles a minute. There was such a delicate balance to maintain, and he wasn’t sure he could keep up his appearance of disinterest for much longer. He really liked her, and he wanted to know her better—wanted to take her out and bring her into the world of the living. Knowing the kind of man Grant had been, he wanted to show her that some men were honorable and true. He wanted to prove to her that she could fall in love with a man and not get hurt.
And he wanted to be that man.
Walking over to the movie cabinet, Erik felt a burden on him like he’d never known before. This started out as a holy mission, he reminded himself. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love or have feelings other than those of a Christian brother for a lost soul. He opened the mahogany doors and stared in wonder at the vast selection of videos. There were old movies as well as new releases, and he had an endless supply of topics to choose from.
“Don’t make it sad,” she had said, and he could still see the pleading in her sapphire-blue eyes.
“Nothing sad,” he said, running a finger over each of the listed features.
He tried desperately to remember the plots and incidents of each and every movie. A love story might upset her because of what she’d lost. A movie with children, especially babies, might depress her because of the miscarriage. He reached for one, then remembered it had a shooting scene and bypassed it for the obvious reasons.
Comedy! That’s what we need. We need something funny. Something slapstick and nonthreatening. His fingers had just touched a tape marked “Three Stooges Marathon” when Cheryl’s bloodcurdling scream tore through the silence.
Erik thought his heart had stopped. He rushed to the kitchen and found her trembling as she pointed to the window with one hand and covered her mouth with the other.
“What was it?” he asked, rushing to the window. He looked out into the darkness, but saw nothing.
Wings Of The Dawn Page 9
