by T. K. Chapin
“Just tell me what you want me to do, God. Help me figure out Your will in all of this,” I prayed, eyes glued to the still ceiling fan. “Show me the way you want me to go.”
Turning on my side, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and checked the time. It was after three. Breathing a sigh, I turned my body to lie flat on my back. Just then, I thought of Kirk. He was an easier place to go in my mind. I thought of those big arms wrapped around me tightly, holding me through the night until dawn.
Closing my eyes, I pictured him at the coffee shop. He seemed so different from the man in my memories. His sadness didn’t scare me. It made me want to save him from it. I wanted to help him get back to the Kirk who couldn’t stop smiling every day on the road.
My eyes moved down his arms as I kept his image in my mind. Trying to picture his hands, I couldn’t. It was then that I realized I didn’t even check for a ring on his hand. Is he married? If he was, it wouldn’t surprise me, and it would be a justified reason not to call. He faded from my thoughts, being replaced by my stalker. Uneasiness surfaced within me. Opening my eyes, I turned over in bed. Seeing Isabella sleeping soundly, I envied her.
Our conversation from earlier crossed over my thoughts—the mention of a bodyguard. The idea didn’t sit well with me at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it grew on me. If I had a hired hand, at least while I was out reporting stories, I would feel safe. Maybe this creep would finally leave me alone if he saw a bodyguard.
Reaching over to the nightstand, I grabbed my phone. I started searching for bodyguard agencies in Spokane on Google.
Chapter 11-Kirk
“KIRK,” THE BARKEEP HOLLERED DOWN my direction from where he was standing, drying off a glass near the beer taps. He was a new guy at the bar, and he didn’t know me like Frank. The new guy wasn’t aware that Frank would allow me to sit on my stool while he did counts after the bar closed. I had to leave at closing time, just like everybody else.
Dropping a twenty on the bar top for my sodas, I stood and tipped the new guy a nod before I headed for the side door to leave. I don’t drink, but I used to. I wasn’t sure why I still frequented Benny’s. Maybe it was the stale cigar smoke and the smell of bad decisions being a good reminder of how far I had come in my life. Or maybe it just delayed the inevitable of going home to an empty house that had once belonged to a family, to my family.
The cold October air outside the bar brushed against my cheeks as I stepped out and headed down the alley. As I walked, my phone rang.
“Dekker.” My last name slurred across the cellphone air waves. It was my buddy and co-worker, Jax Martinez.
“Where you at, Martinez?”
“Quinby & First.”
“I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, I got to my SUV and headed over.
Parking alongside the curb, I pulled up just as I saw Jax and another man arguing on the sidewalk. “What are you doing, Jax?” I said under my breath as I undid my seatbelt, eyes glued on the two of them.
“Hey,” I said over the top of my hood, trying to get their attention.
The two of them ignored me.
The guy arguing with Jax made a bad decision. He pushed two fingers into one of Jax’s shoulders. Hurrying over to the sidewalk quickly, I pushed them apart from each other. Jax wasn’t the type of guy to take much of anything from anybody. He might only be five feet, six inches tall, but he was built like a small freight train and he’d railroad anyone who crossed him.
“Calm down, Jax.” I narrowed my look on his eyes, trying to pull his attention off the buffoon who was confronting him.
His eyes connected with mine.
“C’mon. He’s not worth losing your job over, man!” I said as I held Jax from leaping toward the guy on the sidewalk.
The mention of work immediately relaxed the mounting tension in Jax. He took a step back and relaxed his shoulders. “You’re right. Not worth it.” Raising an eyebrow, he let out a sigh and walked with me over to the SUV.
“You’re the cop who couldn’t even save his own child, right? And then your wife killed herself because you’re a failure.” The man’s words were a pair of daggers pointed right at the deepest part of my heart.
When it came to self-control, I had a lot of it—that was, unless it became personal.
With one quick motion, I leapt back over to the sidewalk and landed a clean right jab across the man’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. As he hit the pavement, I moved in to kick him in the side but stopped short. I had lost control. Adrenaline in my veins, I hurried back over to my SUV and left the scene with Jax.
Chapter 12-Jessica
THE NEXT DAY, I HEADED down to the offices of WIN bodyguard agency, a reputable company that had been in business for a few years. Arriving at their suite in North Spokane right when they opened, I was greeted by the owner, Winston Jones. He was friendly and talkative as he led me inside. We walked back behind the reception area and down a hall to his office.
Sitting down behind his desk, he wasted not another second and dove straight into business. “Have you ever had a bodyguard before?”
“Yes. I had one for most of my high school years back in Albany, New York.”
“Oh, neat. I have a brother who lives in Buffalo. Beautiful country up there.” He jotted a note down on his notepad and continued. “Anyway, everything went okay with your bodyguard?”
I nodded as I thought about the painful breakup with a man I had never even been dating. I felt dumb about the whole thing and wasn’t about to pick a scab and go into detail about what had transpired. I didn’t want him worried I’d distract his men from doing their job. I simply replied, “It went well.”
“Okay, good, so you’ll know what to expect. That always makes it a little easier. So, has anything happened that prompted you to contact us? Harassment of any kind, fear for your life?”
I gave him all the details about the stalker and the incident. He wrote more down on his notepad as I also gave him details regarding the poem and the flowers. I tried to remain calm but ended up breaking down at several different moments.
“I’m sorry I’m crying again,” I said, dabbing my eyes with a tissue.
He raised a hand and shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, Jessica. It’s a scary thing to have this happen. This is why we’re here, to help, to protect. It’s completely understandable.”
“Thank you.” It felt good to be heard, to know I was in the right place, and that I’d be protected. He set his pen down and leaned across the desk as he continued.
“I am an ex-navy SEAL and a retired police chief from Omaha. Not only do I train my own men, but I also send them all to Virginia yearly for training put on by the Secret Service. I assure you, you’re in great hands here.” His desk phone rang and he turned and glanced at the caller ID. Looking back at me, he said, “Sorry. Just a second. I have to answer this.” He answered and swiveled in his chair, his back to me as he took the call.
I didn’t want to eavesdrop on his conversation so I stood up and headed over to the bookshelf behind my chair. Pictures filled the top row. In one picture, Winston was exchanging handshakes with some guy in a suit. The two of them were standing in front of a military jet on a runway.
“Sorry about that,” Winston said, pulling my attention away from the photo.
“It’s okay,” I replied. Turning around, I once again took my seat.
“Did you see our rates on the website?” he asked, continuing our conversation.
“Yes. I’m fine with the price as I mostly need someone who can accompany me out when I’m doing a story.”
He nodded. “Okay. Great. Do you have cameras on the premises of your home?”
I shook my head.
“I suggest you look into it for an extra layer of protection for yourself and your home.”
“Okay.”
“When do you need our services to begin?”
“In a couple of days, if possible? I have a story I’d like to bring
someone along for.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Let’s get your paperwork started and I’ll get a bodyguard assigned to you.” He turned around in his seat and pulled a stapled packet off a pile of papers and brought it over to the desk. Flipping it around so it was right-side up, he began to go over the details.
Chapter 13-Jessica
THE WORRY THAT HAD PLAGUED me since the incident with the stalker was loosening its grip. Just walking out of WIN, I was more relaxed. That evening, I decided to call my father.
“Oh, dear.” My father’s voice was shaky on the other end as I finished telling him.
“You heard me say I hired a bodyguard, right?” I stood up from my couch and walked over to the hallway leading to my bedroom. Looking at the picture of him and my mother, Alice, I listened.
“Yes, yes, of course I heard you, but will it be enough, Jessica? Couldn’t this irritate the stalker to strike outside of working hours? You did say he left you flowers on your doorstep and gave you a poem. Those times weren’t during work.”
I was quiet. I knew my Dad was right. The thing was that I didn’t want to have a bodyguard around all the time, and I couldn’t afford a camera system like Winston had mentioned. Becoming increasingly frustrated, I lashed out. “Dad, I’m twenty-five years old now. You don’t have to treat me like a kid anymore.”
“Honey, I’m not saying you’re a kid. I just worry about you, and your mother does too. We love you and want you to be as safe as possible.”
Letting out a defeated sigh, I shook my head. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Dad.”
“Let me pay the difference for someone to be with you more than just on reports. Just for a while until the police can figure out who this stalker guy is. Or a PI or something! It’s a short-term solution, dear. Just for a while.” His voice was heavy with worry, laced with grief over his daughter’s welfare.
“I’m sorry. I know this kind of thing messes with your work.”
He let out a sigh. “I couldn’t care less about work at a time like this! Congrexal or whoever can get that big contract! Who cares? I care more about your being safe than I do about work.” He was quiet for a second, then continued. “I’m aware I wasn’t around much when you were growing up, but I always, always kept you protected. I love you and can’t handle the stress of worrying about you, my Lilly.”
Lilly was a nickname he gave me when I was four years old. There was a patch of wild lilies that grew out in our backyard, and I once picked them all and brought them in for my mother. My father was delighted by the sight of them in a vas on the table when he came home from a hard day at the office.
I was quiet for a moment on the phone as I tried to be comfortable with the idea of a bodyguard twenty-four-seven. Winston’s suggestion on cameras surfaced. That could put my father’s mind at rest.
“Winston, the owner of WIN, suggested security cameras for the apartment. The only problem with that is I can’t afford it. I really don’t want the full-time bodyguard, Daddy.”
“Deal. I’ll set up a guy to come do the security system installation tomorrow.” My dad’s voice was heightened as he appeared a little relieved. “You’ve worked so hard for your independence from your mother and me, and I want you to understand that we still see you as very much independent and we’re proud of all you’ve accomplished in Spokane.”
Smiling, I couldn’t help but feel loved by the two of them, especially my dad. “Thanks, Dad.”
Hanging up the phone a short while later, I felt good.
Later in the evening, as I removed my makeup in front of my bathroom mirror, I thought about cameras being in my apartment. Always on, always watching. The cameras might keep the stalker away, or better yet, help identify and capture him.
Chapter 14-Jessica
WINSTON SENT A BODYGUARD OUT to meet me Thursday morning at my apartment. His name was Jax. He wasn’t exactly tall, but he looked strong with his bulging muscles under a black shirt. He sat in my living room as I finished getting ready. Trying to focus, I thought about the story I had to work on today. It was about a small congregation struggling to get their church built out in Newport at Diamond Lake. They had several robberies at the construction site, a big problem when building funds were already low and they had a schedule to keep before winter. I knew in my heart that it’d be a wonderful inspirational piece for the readers. I had heard of Charlie and Serenah through Micah when he hired me on. Back then, they were hosting services at their inn on the lake, and Micah even did a story on them. I’ll be quoting pieces of his old article to highlight how far they’ve come with God’s will in their lives.
Leaving the bathroom, I returned to the living room. Jax stood up, hands behind his back. “You have an impressive setup with your security cameras.”
“Thanks. By the way, you can relax,” I said with a twinge of laughter in my voice as I walked over to the counter and grabbed my purse.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m on the job and that means staying alert and always ready to protect.”
“All right. If you insist.” We walked out of the apartment, and I locked the door behind me. As we journeyed down to my car, I went over the plan for the day with Jax. I told him we’d spend no more than a few hours on assignment and then he’d be free to go.
The car ride out to the lake was quiet. I tried to make small talk with my new bodyguard, tried to get him to talk about his life, but he rejected the notion. He was all business.
“What can you tell me of the suspected stalker?” he asked, redirecting the conversation back to security-related topics.
I shrugged. “It’s been going on for about six months. The first contact was the letter.”
“I read that in the report. Is there anything not in the report you can think of? Is there any connection with the events that link them back to someone or something in your mind?”
“Not that I can tell. It all seems random.”
“Just think about it and let me know.”
As we drove further out into the country, we passed by a road leading up to Chattaroy. It was easy to recognize because of the store sitting right on the corner. Smiling as memories of the story flooded my mind, I pointed it out. “Have you ever been out to Chattaroy?”
“My sister lives out there on a farm. About twenty acres.”
“It’s beautiful out in the country.”
He didn’t reply, but he nodded as his eyes stayed glued out the window.
Turning on the radio, I let the music fill the void of dead air between us. I didn’t like the fact that he wasn’t much for conversation, but it made sense. He wasn’t hired to be my friend. He was hired to protect me from danger.
Chapter 15-Jessica
ARRIVING AT THE ADDRESS FOR The Inn at The Lake, where Serenah and Charlie live, I pulled into the long-stretched driveway shaded by large pine trees reaching into the sky. As I parked, I saw a full view of the lake behind the inn. It was majestic in its beauty and like nowhere else I had ever been.
Undoing my seatbelt, I got out of the car and my eyes lingered a few moments longer on the lake.
“It’s gorgeous,” Jax said.
Glancing over at him, I laughed. “You do have thoughts.”
He grinned over at me.
Walking up to the front doors, they opened. Out came a beautiful woman with a little girl on her hip. “You must be Jessica.”
“Yep, and you must be Serenah,” I replied, smiling as I came down the small cement steps. We shook hands. Turning, I said, “This is Jax. He’ll be tagging along with me today.”
Her eyes met his and they shook hands. “Come on in and have a seat. Charlie’s just at the construction site now, assessing how much we lost last night.”
We started walking inside.
“You got hit again?” I asked, saddened by the news.
She sighed. “Yes, whoever is doing it is smart. They only come at night.”
“That’s so cruel,” I said as we followed behind her into
the living room. The little girl let out a gleeful smile, and I returned her smile.
“How old is your girl?” I asked.
“Three. Emma loves when people visit, which is pretty often with a bed and breakfast.” Serenah sat her down in a highchair in the living room and headed into the connecting kitchen. She was about in the kitchen as she asked, “Would you two like any coffee, water, or anything to drink?”
“I’m good,” I replied as I glanced over at Jax, who was standing near the end of the couch.
“I’m fine,” he said loud enough for her to hear.
Serenah returned a few moments later with Gold Fish crackers and splashed a handful onto the tray for her daughter. Setting the box on the ledge of the pass-through that looked into the kitchen, she came over and sat down on the couch beside me. Leaning forward, she grabbed a photo album from underneath the coffee table. Pulling it onto her lap, she rested her hands on it and looked over at me. “This is the journey we’ve been on so far with the church. It’s been a precious journey, but I know the Lord has more in store.”
She opened it up and I saw a picture of a platform stage in front of the lake. It was dated during last summer.
“This was our first service on the lake.” Her fingers glided across the picture as a smile broke across her face. “We only held it as a test run to see what God really wanted to do. It’s a funny thing.”
She paused for more than a few seconds, prompting me to ask, “What is?”
“God’s will in our lives.” She shook her head softly as she lifted her eyes up to meet mine. “We struggle to understand what God’s will is in our lives, but when we look back, we can see the brush strokes of His grace and handiwork at every turn. I remember being so worried in the beginning, but everything kept falling into place, one thing after another. We were getting donations without asking and God’s people desired to have this done. It was evident by how smoothly things were going. All along the way, I was worried we were going to mess it up somehow.”
