A Love for Safekeeping

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “Really? That’s wonderful. I know Pastor Johnson well.”

  Feeling cornered, she swallowed and tugged out her honesty. “I’m afraid I don’t know him. I haven’t attended there in quite a while.”

  “No? Then Kyle will have to bring you over to First Community some Sunday. We’d love to have you.” He leaned toward her and grinned. “You can hear one of my infamous sermons firsthand.”

  Jane felt another white lie coming on. “That would be nice.”

  Her words lay heavy in her heart. She studied God’s word and believed in Jesus. But after years of struggling with the feelings about her father, she’d become frustrated. She’d broken so many commandments—in bits and pieces. How could she explain that to anyone?

  To Jane’s relief, before Kyle gave her another comforting squeeze or his father asked another question, Ruth bustled into the living room and halted the conversation. She headed for the low coffee table and set down a tray containing glasses of fruit juice along with a plate of cheese and crackers.

  “Help yourselves now,” she said. “I’m putting the final touches on dinner. Everything should be ready soon.”

  Jane liked the woman. Her dove-toned shirtwaist, accented by a perky bow, hung over her slightly plump hips, and darker gray hair curled softly around her pleasant face. Jane thought she made the perfect pastor’s wife: friendly, gracious and soft-spoken.

  Ruth pivoted and returned to the kitchen while Paul offered Jane a small plate. She felt obliged to place a couple of crackers and cheese wedges on the dish, though she preferred to save her appetite for the dinner she could smell drifting in from the kitchen: roasted pork, seasoned with rosemary, she guessed, and maybe apples.

  The tantalizing aroma aroused her hunger. Pleased that the snacks had suspended the conversation, she joined the others and nibbled a cracker.

  While Kyle filled his plate, he studied Jane’s reaction to his parents. Before arriving, she’d seemed nervous, but her demeanor had changed when she met them. He was pleased that she’d relaxed.

  He loved watching her…being with her. Something about Jane captured his interest. Captured him. His thoughts had been filled with her since they’d met.

  At first he thought it might be that he was a cop, concerned for her safety and intrigued by her vulnerability. But today he had no question. It was the spirited redhead herself. It was Jane.

  He was pleased he’d finagled a Sunday dinner invitation for her. On the telephone, his mother’s voice had raised ten decibels when he asked if he could bring a woman friend along. No doubt his imaginative mother was already planning their wedding. He’d recognized the eager sound in her voice. Kyle often wondered if his parents thought once he married that he’d find a safer career. He hated to disappoint them.

  Drawn again to Jane, Kyle tried to cover his stare, but he wondered if she realized he was watching her. Each time she glanced at him, his heart skidded over a speed bump.

  Surreptitiously he gazed into her misty green eyes, admired her satin skin brightened by her dress color, and marveled at her ginger-red hair. She reminded him of an Indian summer afternoon: warm, natural and inviting.

  When his dad had asked Jane about her church affiliations, Kyle had felt her body tense. He wondered why she was uncomfortable with the question. As Kyle’s thoughts drifted, his father’s words dragged him back.

  “…Terribly sad day when we learned our older son, Paul Jr., died in the Middle East. So you can understand how difficult it’s been for us to have Kyle join the police force. Different perhaps, but dangerous just the same.”

  Jane didn’t respond, but Kyle saw her nod.

  “But then a dad’s wishes don’t always weigh a lot.”

  Kyle’s heart sank. He knew he had to honor his father, but he also had to quiet him. “Dad, this isn’t the time to talk about this. We have company.”

  “Sorry, son.”

  Sadness weighed on Kyle’s shoulders as he watched discomfort fill his father’s face.

  Paul’s head lowered, and after a thoughtful pause, he turned to Jane. “Forgive me for grumbling. Sometimes my heart gets weighted with worries, and I forget we have guests. Like I said, Redmond’s been a safe community, but more and more the problems are finding their way into the suburbs, and I get fearful for our town.”

  Kyle flinched when he heard his father’s words. They were only half-true. His dad really feared for him.

  “Prayer, Dad,” Kyle said. “Put your burdens on the Lord. How many times have you told me to do just that?”

  Kyle’s comment did the trick.

  Paul flung his head back with a laugh. “I guess you’re right, son. I should heed my own advice.”

  Jane understood exactly what Kyle’s father meant. Her father’s life always seemed pressured by many things. She sensed her mother’s unhappiness so often, perhaps because of her father’s temper, but her mother seemed to love him and feared for him, no matter what. Jane never understood their relationship.

  “My father was a police officer, too.” Unbidden, the words exited her mouth and her pulse skipped through her veins. “I know my mother felt exactly like you do each day my dad went to work.”

  Paul’s attention sharpened. “Where did your father work?”

  “Right here in Redmond. He died a few years ago—”

  “No, don’t tell me.” He straightened in his chair, grasping the arms, and leaned toward Jane. “Red Conroy. Was he your father?”

  Dread filled Jane. “Yes. Did you know him?”

  He didn’t answer for a minute, as if his mind soared back in time. “I knew your father fairly well.” His head pivoted slowly from side to side. “Red Conroy. I can’t believe it.”

  Kyle edged forward in his seat. “How did you know Jane’s father, Dad?”

  Paul stared into space, then, as if jolted from his reverie, he looked at Kyle. “Oh, we served on a couple of…committees together. Involved in some community projects.” Paul stared at Jane. “Red Conroy’s daughter. Well, I’ll be.”

  An eerie premonition washed over Jane. A feeling that there might be more to the story. She curbed her speculation. Her imagination had gotten out of hand, and she wondered if she could tell fact from fiction. And deep inside, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.

  On the way home that evening, Jane fell silent. She wanted to tell Kyle about her meeting with Sam Malik, but she hated to ruin the wonderful day she’d spent with him without worrying about threats and stalkers. Before she decided what to do, Kyle broke the silence.

  “You seem quiet. I hope my dad didn’t make you uncomfortable with all his talk.”

  “Uncomfortable? No, I like your folks. They’re real people. Natural and unpretentious. They treated me great. Like I belonged there.”

  Kyle slid his hand up her arm. “You did belong there. I invited you.”

  “You know what I mean.” She gave him a teasing poke. “And both hands on the steering wheel, please.”

  When they pulled into her driveway, thoughts of Lena’s father were still troubling her. She hadn’t uttered a word.

  “Would you like to come in a minute?” she asked.

  He turned off the motor and opened his door. “I’d hoped you’d ask.”

  He hopped from the car, and before she knew it, he’d circled the car and opened the passenger side. “Madam,” he said, motioning for her to exit, as if he were a nobleman or knight. He was her knight, in so many ways.

  She stepped from the car and Kyle slipped into stride with her up the porch steps. Inside, Jane poured them each a soda, and they settled in the living room.

  “Okay. What’s up?” Kyle said.

  Jane’s head jerked upward, and she gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve had something on your mind all the way home.”

  His uncanny ability to read her mind gave her the shivers. Realizing it was useless to hide anything, she told him about Malik. “He said I was embarrassing his daught
er and I was prejudiced.” She told him her response and Malik’s reaction.

  Kyle listened, his forehead creased and his fingers tapped against his leg as if he were ready for action. “I don’t like the guy,” Kyle said when she’d finished.

  Jane frowned. “Me, neither, but he’s a parent. What can I do. I know one thing for sure. He doesn’t think much of women.”

  “How do you mean that?”

  “He said he’d hoped that this year Lena would have a man with some brains. Or something like that. I suppose he assumed she’d have Dale Keys.”

  “Who’s he?” Kyle asked.

  “The teacher I replaced. I learned his name from Celia. Skylar made reference to him the other day. He said he hoped I wasn’t as off-the-wall as he was.”

  “Skylar sounds like a great guy. I don’t like him, either.”

  Jane laughed. “You don’t like anybody, do you?”

  “Sure I do,” he said, his tender gaze gliding across her face.

  Jane’s chest tightened as he lifted his fingers and caressed her jaw. She remembered the fleeting kiss he’d given her, and tonight, a new longing jolted her. She wanted to be kissed. But this time really kissed.

  As if he heard her, Kyle leaned forward and without restraint, Jane lifted her mouth to meet his. The brief touch was soft and warm, but left her breathless.

  “Believe me?” Kyle asked.

  She knew she should understand, but she didn’t.

  “I like you…more than words can say.”

  A flutter rose in her chest and rippled down her arms. “I like you, too” was all she had the breath to say.

  Monday morning, Jane pulled the trunk latch near her feet, then climbed out of her car. Lifting the trunk lid, she hauled out the craft materials she’d purchased for her class, wondering how she’d get them all inside.

  She managed to gather the load into her overburdened arms and trudged into the school. Inside her room, Jane piled the packages on the desk, and as she stored away the supplies, thoughts of Lena occupied her mind.

  Jane was torn how she should treat the little girl: ignore her individual tutoring or continue as she had been. Thinking of the child’s needs after the class began, she threw caution down the drain and invited the two girls to work in the back of the room as usual.

  When lunchtime came, Jane hurried to the lounge, but hopes of a break were shattered. Before she could finish her lunch, Skylar’s secretary appeared and handed her a note to see him immediately. Swallowing the distress that overtook her, she headed to the office.

  When Jane left Skylar, she’d been stunned by their meeting. She’d been scrutinized from all angles without one saving grace. He’d berated her. He’d grilled her. Had she shown prejudice? Didn’t she know how much retesting would cost the school district? Next time, he said, he’d sit in on her meetings. She’d sat like a punished child, shocked and unable to respond with any intelligence.

  But his last comment topped them all. She could hear his voice. “If you see Dale Keys around your classroom, tell him I’d like to speak with him. I hear he’s in the building.”

  “Sure,” she’d said, hesitating. Was Skylar thinking of giving Keys back his job? She slammed her thoughts shut. She was getting paranoid.

  Following lunch, the students settled into their seats, and the afternoon began with her half-eaten sandwich churning inside her. While the children worked on spelling, Jane tried with little success to concentrate on paperwork at her desk.

  Pausing, Jane looked toward the door and saw a man watching her from the hallway. He saw her look and he signaled. Jane rose and tiptoed to the doorway.

  “May I help you?” she asked, stepping outside.

  “I’m Dale Keys,” he said, extending his hand. “This was my classroom.”

  “Jane Conroy,” she said, clasping his fingers. “I’ve heard.”

  “Really? Just thought I’d introduce myself.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Jane inched toward her room. The man seemed normal enough to her. Why did Skylar call him off-the-wall? Then she remembered. “Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you that Mr. Skylar said you should stop by his office.”

  “Really?” A long, deep exhale rattled from his throat. “I’m surprised. He and I didn’t get along.”

  “He can be rather opinionated.” She figured her comment was tactful.

  Dale tucked his hand in his trouser pocket, and Jane listened to the metal jingle while she waited for his next comment.

  He didn’t say a word, and hearing the children’s whispers, she glanced into the classroom and tapped against the doorjamb. The room quieted. “I’d better get back inside,” Jane said.

  “I suppose I should see what Skylar wants.”

  After they said goodbye, she reentered the classroom, thinking of Skylar’s negative attitude. The guy seemed okay.

  After the final bell, she stood by the door while the children filed out, when Celia gestured for her to wait.

  Jane nodded, then went inside to straighten her desk and gathered her belongings.

  “Ready?” Celia asked, standing at her doorway.

  “Just about.” She headed for the closet for her handbag, wondering why Celia had a silly smirk on her face. “So why the grin?”

  “Aren’t you curious?” She giggled. “I had another date with Len. I didn’t get to tell you at lunch.”

  “Great. One of these days I’ll have to meet him.”

  “I’m sure you will. When I’m more comfortable with him, maybe we can plan a double date or something.”

  “Sounds good.” Jane pulled her handbag from the closet and carried it back to her desk.

  Celia followed her. “I take it you survived your conference with Skylar.”

  “Barely.”

  “That bad.”

  As she relayed the details of her meeting, Jane searched inside her handbag for her car keys. They weren’t there. Concerned, she felt in her pockets.

  “Lose something?”

  “My keys. I always keep them in my purse.”

  She emptied the contents on her desk and rifled through them. “They aren’t here.” Anxiety rattled her as she ran her hands over her clothing again. “Not in my pockets, either.”

  Celia’s brow arched. “Did you leave your purse sitting out?”

  “No. It’s been locked in my closet all day.” She panicked, thinking someone might have her house and car keys. “I hate to ask, Celia, but could you give me a lift home and back? I have a set there. If—”

  “Sure. No problem.” She rested her hand on Jane’s shoulder. “I know how bad you must feel. I hate losing things.”

  “I’ve never done this before,” Jane said, gathering her books. “I feel like I’m losing more than my keys.” She pointed to her head.

  Celia grinned. “I lost my keys once in the lot of a strip mall. What a mess.”

  Celia relayed the story as they headed toward the exit. Passing the office, Mary called out and Jane waved goodbye, but before she got outside, Mary called her again.

  “I have your car keys,” Mary said, flagging her back to the office.

  Puzzled, Jane faltered.

  “Go ahead,” Celia said. “I’ll wait.”

  Jane hurried into the office and Mary pulled the keys out of her desk.

  “They were outside most of the day,” Mary said.

  “Outside? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Charlie just brought them in an hour or so ago. You left them in the ignition with the door unlocked. You’re lucky someone didn’t steal your car.”

  Lucky? Jane knew better. “Blessed,” she said, then realized she hadn’t given credit to God in a long time.

  Chapter Six

  Kyle was naturally suspicious. When Jane told him about the parent who gave her a rough time, he wondered if there might be some connection between Jane’s troubles and the man.

  When he checked Sam Malik in the police records, he found nothing except a few complaints he lodged
against his neighbors. Apparently teachers and neighbors were both on Malik’s list.

  He’d been anxious to tell Jane what he’d done, and as they sat together in her living room on Thursday evening, he remembered to give her the details.

  “Maybe he’s tired of complaining and decided to try some action…with me,” Jane said, her face strained with tension.

  “Could be, but the police need more than speculation.”

  She crumbled against the sofa. “That’s what I can’t stand. Nothing can be done until someone threatens me. Or worse.” She pulled her back away from the cushion and narrowed her eyes. “When they find my dead body somewhere, then they’ll do something.” Her disheartened sigh filled the air.

  He looked at her with his own frustration. “No one’s going to hurt you, Jane. I know you’re frustrated, but that’s the way the law works. The police need hard evidence. At least a suspect.”

  If he didn’t hurt for her—fear for her—his matter-of-fact answer would be exactly that, a fact. But he did care, and he had very little solace to offer her.

  As if she’d thought of a new idea, Jane’s voice buoyed. “What about the Dick and Jane primer?”

  Her persistence edged on his own jagged nerves. “I showed you what I found that day at the school when I returned the book. Remember?”

  “I guess.” She stared down at the floor.

  Her downhearted expression tugged at his guilt for being impatient. “All we found was the stamp from the Redmond School District and the name ‘Howard’ written inside. That’s it.” He tilted her chin. “And trust me, over the years, many students named Howard went to elementary school in Redmond.”

  “Did you check?” Her look pierced him.

  Kyle flexed his fingers, hoping to relieve his rising frustration. He spoke in a slow, calm voice. “The police department has real crimes to pursue, Jane. They can’t spend man-hours searching for crimes that haven’t been committed yet.”

  “That’s what I mean. I could be the next real crime,” she muttered.

  “I know how you must feel, but we need a legitimate threat of harm before we can really act. ‘See Jane run’ circled on a page isn’t it.”