by H. L. Wegley
“I think we need to change the subject.” Jennifer pulled out and headed towards the far end of town.
Lee grinned.
She was blushing.
7
When they walked into the office at the inn, Lee made eye contact with the tall man standing behind a small counter. He wore a plastic badge with the word Manger on it.
“What can I do for you on this beautiful evening?” The manager quipped.
“Manger, huh? Any room at the inn for two weary travelers, or do we have to sleep in the hay?”
“That depends. Is your wife pregnant?” The man grinned.
“No…she’s not. I mean she’s not pregnant, and she isn’t my uh…what have you got available tonight?”
That went well, you idiot.
Jennifer’s glare reiterated his sentiment.
“The badge gets a lot of remarks.” The manager pulled out a registration form. “I made the spelling mistake when I ordered the badges—all twelve of them. Since we had to pay for them, my wife makes me wear them. She’s a real penny pincher. But about the room…this used to be an apartment complex, so all we have are one and two bedroom suites, all completely separate units, lots of privacy.”
“We need a two-bedroom suite.” He glanced at Jennifer.
She nodded.
“You’re in luck. I have eight of them. Probably ten by tomorrow night the way the weather’s been going. All without any hay, just comfortable beds.” He met Lee’s gaze. “Name, please?”
“Lee Brandt.”
“Just the two of you for one night?”
“Yeah.”
Jennifer slid her left hand behind his back like she was hiding her engagement ring.
How would that help?
The manager looked at Jennifer then at Lee. He looked at Jennifer a second time and cocked his head.
The guy was obviously trying to decipher their relationship.
A couple of minutes later, they stood under the overhanging walkway sheltering the door to their suite.
As the door swung open, she stuck out a thumb and pointed into their room. “This wasn’t a good idea, was it?”
“You tell me.” He needed to do this right. He scooped Jennifer up and lifted her into his arms.
She gasped. “Lee?”
He carried her across the threshold.
She glanced out the open door, and her mouth fell open. “Lee, that man thought we were…”
“Jenn, I don’t care what he thinks about me right now.” He was still holding Jennifer and the door still stood open, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. What mattered were those brown eyes he could drown in and her full lips only inches from his, only millimeters, only sweetness when they met his.
Evidently, she forgot about the door. Jennifer returned his kiss with something far beyond mere warmth. When they followed the kiss with their ritual of peering into each other’s eyes—both pairs of eyes completely unmasked, revealing everything—he saw a lot more than he bargained for.
He lowered her onto her feet. “You were right. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Go lock yourself in your room. Put some of that white cream all over your face—the stuff old ladies use on TV—or something else repulsive.”
“Can’t do that. I didn’t buy any makeup. But don’t worry. You won’t be tempted beyond what you can stand.” Her smirk turned to a frown. “We have some important work to do this evening. We need to find a safe approach to the remaining mill sites. One of them will have people with guns…and girls who need us.”
For the moment, the evening took on somber overtones as they fled from temptation to reality, a reality where the stakes were high. Life and something worse than death.
****
The grocery bag. They had forgotten it.
Lee grabbed Jennifer’s car keys from the table and turned towards the door.
“No. I’ll get the stuff from the car.” Jennifer said as she tried to cut him off.
He stepped ahead of her and ran out the door to her car, grabbed the grocery bag, and scurried back inside the room.
Jennifer met him at the door. “Can I please have the bag with my things in it?”
“No, because it’s also the bag with my things in it.”
She grabbed for the bag.
He deftly moved it out of her reach.
“Lee, please give me the bag.”
“Flip you for it. Winner gets to take their stuff out first.”
Jennifer seemed to relax, and then lunged for the bag. She ripped it from his hand, tearing the bag and spilling its contents onto the floor.
He dropped to the floor and snatched his underwear.
Jennifer reached for her underwear, now fully displayed in front of him, including the tags. It was an interesting bit of information.
“Well, well, well. Jenn, I would have never guessed—”
Jennifer scooped up her bra. “That’s enough. So now you don’t have to guess.” She looked up at him.
“You know what?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.” Her cheeks displayed a deep rosy color.
“Well, you need to hear this. I think you’re a keeper.”
She avoided eye contact. “You think I’m a keeper based on my…based on the tag you read? What kind of a guy thinks like that?”
“A normal, red-blooded, American guy.”
“And that, Lee, is why we shouldn’t be staying here in—”
The game was over. He sighed. “There’s an important reason why we’re staying here. Let’s eat, then we need to plan for tomorrow.”
She took his hand. “After that, we need to have a serious talk.”
“A good serious talk or a bad serious talk?”
“Mostly good.”
Her face conveyed a different message.
“Are you OK, sweetheart?” He studied her face.
“Let’s eat. Then we can talk.”
8
Lee’s nagging worry about the developing storm returned. “While we eat I’m going to check out this storm. The wind shifted around 4:00 PM, earlier than I thought it would.”
He opened her laptop and waited for it to wake up. The WiFi connections showed only one router. He connected and opened a browser, pointing it at the University of Washington weather information web site, and then the forecast page.
On it, he found the link to NCAR’s research applications and perused the numerical model output charts, looking for deviations from the storm analysis he had performed on Friday for his company’s client.
Jennifer leaned towards him and looked over his shoulder. “You know, I worried about you switching career fields when we started courting. There’s always computer systems work, but right now I’m thankful that you’re back up to speed on weather forecasting.” She pointed at the lower left corner of the screen. “I see a lot of concentric circles to the south of us. That’s not good, is it?”
“No, it’s not. The jet was already structured for rapid cyclogenesis…uh, storm development. The embedded remnants of an old Western-Pacific typhoon have increased the effect. It’s so similar to the Columbus Day storm of 1962 that it’s scary. What we’re seeing here is called explosive cyclogenesis, and the results could be devastating to the entire peninsula.”
“It won’t stop us from finding the girls, will it?”
“Not if we get started early. My gut says we’ll see wind gusts up to one hundred fifty miles per hour in the exposed areas by tomorrow afternoon. I’m drawing a line in the sand. No matter what, we need to be well inland by noon tomorrow. Before the Pineapple Express transitions to a hurricane-strength storm, and before driving down a forest-lined highway, like 101, becomes deadly.”
****
After Lee’s news about the storm, half of her sandwich was all she could eat. They needed more preparation and part of that was creating a map of Braithwaite’s mill site.
“I’m going out to my SUV to get the map and satellite picture of t
he site we missed. It’s near Braithwaite’s mill. I think we can use them for both locations, all but the satellite close-up.”
When she returned, Lee was wolfing down the second half of her sub. He cleared the table and tossed the wrappings in the waste basket. “Here, spread the map out on the table.”
Jennifer folded the map in half, exposing the area from Kalaloch southward, and placed the satellite picture beside the map. She scooted behind the laptop and brought up a satellite picture of the area south of Kalaloch. “The mill Braithwaite told us about is three miles down the highway from the mill site we missed. I’ll zoom in on that location.”
She panned to the south. There was only forest.
She panned further. “Look, Lee. I’ll bet that’s the mill.” She zoomed further, but the picture lost resolution before the buildings became clearly visible. “Well, we know where it is. We’ll have to take Braithwaite’s word about its condition. What’s your gut feeling about where they’re holding the girls? The mill we missed, or Braithwaite’s?”
“If I was betting money, I’d put it on Braithwaite’s mill. His description fits the criteria better than any other mill site we’ve found out here.”
“I agree.” Lee’s hand was warm and comforting. She intertwined their fingers. “But we’ve got to be careful even at the other mill. We’ll be sneaking up on some dangerous people. I want us to think about all the contingencies tonight.”
Lee rubbed his chin for a few seconds. “Contingencies. How about this? If we’re spotted by anyone who takes an interest in us while we’re parking, we’ll immediately head towards the nearest cell reception and call Peterson.”
“That sounds good to me, but can we assume we’ve found the holding site if that happens?”
“Jenn, if they make any move towards us, I don’t think we have any choice but to make that assumption, even if we haven’t visually verified that the girls are there.”
Jennifer took a deep breath and let it escape slowly, preparing for Lee’s protest. “There’s another possibility I want you to think about. And I want an answer.” She paused. “It’s my turn to take the point at the first mill. What if they spot me, they shoot, and I go down?”
“I won’t let that—”
“You can’t say that. Tell me what you’ll do.”
“If you go down, I’ll carry you back to the car. Maybe I’ll use your gun to hold them at bay until we can get—”
“No, Lee. If I go down and don’t get up immediately, you’ve got to get away and notify the FBI.”
“A good soldier never leaves a comrade behind.”
“This isn’t like war. There are no reinforcements. If I go down, promise me you’ll get away and find help. We’ve got to stop this trafficking of young girls and make sure the girls being held are rescued.” Tears tickled her cheeks and spilled into her lap. “You’ve got to promise me.”
“You know I could never leave you behind. Why are you doing this?”
Now her eyes and her nose were running. She swiped at them. Would he understand or think she was crazy? “Because it’s necessary.”
“Tell me what’s going on.” He reached for her.
When Lee slipped his arms around her, the floodgates opened. The tears were driven by a voice inside that wailed like a frightened, orphaned child, lost and without hope. It shredded her heart. But no matter what she felt or what she wanted, she could never convince Lee to do something she wouldn’t do, to leave the other one behind.
“Remember this morning when I told you I felt terrible because it seemed like these people held my own daughter?”
“I remember. Is that what this is all about?”
“It’s like someone, a young girl, has been crying out for me to help today. Not an audible voice—I’m not losing my sanity—but someone needs me…desperately.”
“It’s me.” He laid his cheek on her head. “I’m the one who needs you desperately.”
“Someone else needs me too, and, Lee…” She looked up into his eyes. What was he thinking? Did he believe her and did he understand? “I think they need you, too.”
“Do you really believe God is laying this on your heart?”
“I wish I could answer that.” She wiped her eyes again. “I think so, but I’m not sure. I’m still learning things about my relationship with Him. Maybe my signals are crossed or something.”
He cupped her cheeks and pulled her face in front of his. “Here’s what we need to do. We’re a pretty good team, so I know we’ll find the girls tomorrow. With Peterson’s help, we’ll set them free. If God wants something more of us, He’ll show us. Remember that verse in Psalms about committing our way unto the LORD, trusting in Him and letting Him bring it to pass. I think it’s time to do some committing.”
****
Lee tried to cover all the bases in his prayer, but he ached inside when Jennifer poured out the agony she felt in her heart.
After she finished praying, he gently pulled her into his arms. “Too many things have happened for this all to be coincidence. Even the delays today may have been for a purpose. If God wants to use us, we’re already more than willing. Let’s put the outcome in His hands. He’ll show us if there’s a girl out there who needs us, and He’ll show us how to meet those needs.” He paused. “Now there are some things I need to say to you, if you don’t mind me changing the subject.”
“I don’t mind, but first—I know I’ve said this before—you are a very good man, Lee Brandt, and I love you more than I can tell you. No matter what happens tomorrow, please remember nothing can ever change that.”
No matter what happens tomorrow, she had said. Tomorrow he would take Jennifer into the domain of an intense storm. Storms he understood. He had respect for them. But tomorrow he would also take Jennifer into the domain of human traffickers. He had no respect for them and could not understand them. When the two domains combined, he could only wonder what he was actually taking her into.
Her forehead, beautifully tan and intelligent, was only inches from his lips. He kissed it. “Taking you into danger scares me to death. But please remember this, there’s no one I would rather have by my side when our lives are on the line than you. And there’s no one else I’ll ever have by my side in this life. I don’t have any more room for love. You filled it…completely.”
She was frowning now. “What about our children? We’ve talked about—”
“That’s different.” He managed a smile. “Whatever size house you live in, you always find room for your next child. Our hearts are like that when it comes to family.”
“Then you do have more room for love?”
“For family, it’s more like a shoehorn. You slip them in. Our kids will be partly you. Love for a wife and kids—it’s atomic.” He frowned. “Split it and you get a big explosion—E equals M C squared—divorce.”
“But if something did happen to me, something tomorrow, I wouldn’t want you to live your life alone. You should—”
He put his finger on her lips. “Maybe I would prefer to live alone, in that case. But why the morbidity? Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it, and I don’t believe God will, either.”
When Jennifer set the travel alarm clock for 6:00 AM, she felt a measure of peace in her heart for the first time since she discovered the trafficker’s message.
Their prayer time had calmed some of her fears, and Lee had drowned the rest with two kisses. Maybe he was right when he said with God and Agent Peterson on their side, Trader was toast.
She hoped so. But it took heat to make toast. Wherever that heat might come from, she didn’t want them to get burned in the toasting process, and tomorrow there would be many, many ways to get burned.
9
Sunday Morning, November 3
Jennifer sat up in bed.
The “William Tell Overture”? You’ve got to be kidding.
Her rule was no upbeat music before coffee and no exceptions. Where was the button to shut off the anno
ying thing? She randomly pushed buttons on the clock’s keypad until, mercifully, the tinny rendition of the classical piece stopped.
The clock read 6:00 AM, and they needed to be at Kalaloch by 7:30.
Despite the ominous unknown awaiting them, she had slept soundly.
Rustling noises and the sounds of footsteps came from the other side of Lee’s door. He was up.
“It’s 6:00 AM. I’m going to kill you for picking out that stupid clock. We’ve got forty-five minutes to get out of here, provided you live that long.”
“I love you too, Jenn. Make sure you leave me fifteen minutes of bathroom time to brush my teeth and shave.”
“Please do both. Yesterday you had some personal hygiene issues.”
“After leaving in a panic yesterday morning, we both did.” Lee stepped out of his room fully dressed. “You’d better get your clothes on unless you intend to wear those sweats all day.”
“They’re my pajamas. Just like yours, and I’m not planning to—”
“No, not just like mine. Mine are already folded and in my pack. I’m taking my bathroom time now while you get dressed.”
She shuffled back into her room to dress.
Today they would find the girls and possibly encounter some of the most evil people on the planet. A case of nerves was incubating. Buttons misbehaved in her trembling hands. So did her boot laces. It took several extra attempts to tie their ends into bows.
When she collected her things to take her turn in the bathroom, the clock read 6:20.
How were they doing for time? With a mouthful of toothpaste, she ran a mental timeline. Out at 6:30, coffee, prayer at Kalaloch, mill number one by about 7:35. They were still on daylight savings time, so it would barely be light when they approached the first mill.
What would their world look like in twelve hours? The nagging question wouldn’t leave her mind. It was a simple question to ask, but did she really want to know the answer?
The possibilities were exciting, but they were also frightening. Lee’s arms. She needed their strength, comfort, and security.
