by H. L. Wegley
Katie couldn’t blink away her tears. They spilled onto her cheeks. Her arms circled Jennifer’s neck, and her voice broke. “I…never thought I would be thanking Trader for anything. But I’m glad he brought us all together.”
Lee joined the embrace. “What Trader meant for evil, God used for good. So, can we take it your answer is yes?”
Katie pulled her arms from Jennifer and slipped them around Lee’s neck. “You should have known it was yes. But I hope you won’t ever be disappointed.”
“Katie,” Jennifer asked, “why would we ever be disappointed?”
“I’m not perfect, not like you two.”
She cupped Katie’s cheek. “Remember our conversation over lunch? We’re not perfect, either. And we won’t be perfect parents. But Jesus already took care of our imperfections, so let’s not worry about them unless He shows us they need some attention. Now, let’s eat before our dinner gets cold.”
Lee winked at Katie. “You mean before our cashew chicken take-out gets cold?”
30
Monday Evening, November 11
Jennifer watched the large entryway door of Maplewood Community Church. When it opened, a group of teenagers exited, full of joy from their time of fellowship at the Monday youth-group meeting.
There was Katie. The tall, blonde girl was a stunning beauty who would stand out in any crowd.
Katie stopped and waved to a couple of friends before sliding into the passenger’s seat.
“How was the meeting tonight?”
“It was great. I’m starting to make some good friends. I think they actually like me. I mean me, as a person.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised. I liked you as a person from the first moment we met in—” she stopped.
“It’s OK, Jenn. That seems like years ago.” Katie paused and appeared deep in thought. “You know, before we went to see Granddad last week, you said he didn’t believe in heaven?”
“That’s right. Granddad is a good and honorable man, but he just—”
“Jenn, I’ve got something to confess.”
“What did you do this time, Katie?”
“I was reading the Bible you got for me. The book of John, like you suggested, trying to picture those things John wrote to prove Jesus was the Son of God. That’s when it hit me.”
“Hit you? I hope it didn’t hurt.” She teased.
“The word master hit me. Granddad is a master at Karate. He said he learned from another master. So, when we went to Granddad’s place on Friday, I left him a note, asking him to read about The Master in the book of John. Only, I think I lost the note at his house.”
“Granddad is meticulous in every detail about his house. If the note is there, he’ll find it.”
“That’s what I’ve been praying.”
“Granddad really likes you, Katie. Maybe you’ll have more influence than I have. I’ve certainly gotten nowhere with him on that subject.”
They were approaching her apartment. Jennifer glanced at the opposite side of the street. It was only yesterday the police car left that spot. “It’ll seem strange for a while not seeing someone over there watching our apartment. But since Trader left the country, well, we don’t have to think about him anymore.”
“No. But if it hadn’t been for him capturing me, my life never would have been this good.”
Jenn centered the little SUV on her parking space. “I’m not so sure about that. You’re a remarkable young lady. You would’ve made your mark.”
“Our Bible lesson tonight was about Joseph. I guess God really does make good things happen out of the bad things evil people do. My life was a little bit like Joseph’s, except Potiphar’s wife was Trader, in my case.”
“What God did wasn’t good only for Joseph.” She pulled her key from the ignition. “Joseph saved his family and many others. Much like you saved Mel, Kirsten, Lee, and me.”
“I feel bad, though. I didn’t even recognize that it was actually Him working to save all of us.” Katie’s voice quivered.
Physically strong, spiritually so tender. Who would have guessed? “But the important thing is you recognize it now. C’mon, let’s go inside. Lee usually calls about this time.”
“We wouldn’t want to miss that call, would we, sweetheart?” Katie mimicked Lee’s voice as they walked towards the door.
Jennifer unlocked the door, stepped in, and stopped. “That’s strange. I thought I turned on the alarm when I left. I must have forgotten.”
“Too many wedding plans on your mind,”
“That could very well be,” Still something felt wrong. Her gun. It was in her bedroom.
The sound of a door and the shuffle of feet spun her around.
A large hand slapped over Katie’s mouth. Another hand shoved a gun into the back of Katie’s neck.
“Well, well, well. Half of my merchandise, right here in one place.”
This wasn’t possible.
“Trader—”
“Silence! If one of you screams, I’ll kill the other one, or both of you, if need be. Old lady, you know the drill. Wrists together.”
“Not this time.” The words slipped out before she could control her emotions.
“Have it your way.” Trader cocked the gun.
The loud click froze her body.
“OK!” She glared at him. “But you won’t get away with this.”
“I must disagree, old lady. Your watchdog left yesterday. Wrists. Now!”
He couldn’t have her wrists. Not yet. Slowly she yielded them. There must be something she could try.
He kept the gun pointed at the base of Katie’s neck while his free hand slipped the loop over her hands. He yanked downward, pulling her to the floor.
When Jennifer’s knees hit the floor, Katie ducked under the handgun. She pushed Trader’s forearm up. Her strong right arm drove an elbow well below Trader’s belt.
Trader roared in pain and rage.
Katie landed on the floor.
He brought the butt of the handgun down on her head.
Katie lay still.
The red-hot energy of fury exploded inside Jennifer. It powered a vicious kick that landed where Katie’s elbow had pounded.
Grunting, Trader doubled over. His head bent forward.
Jennifer’s bound fists pounded down on the back of his neck. The blow drove him to the floor.
The gun fell from his hand. Trader reached for his gun.
She had to stop him.
Her powerful foot stomp hit him squarely in the face.
Trader’s nose flattened. Blood splattered across the carpet and the wall.
Jennifer drew back her leg to kick again.
He grabbed the gun.
The report slammed into Jennifer’s head like a fist.
She stopped. With her ears ringing, she focused on Katie’s head.
Please, God.
The gun pointed harmlessly towards the wall, where a hole appeared near the floor.
She turned to attack again.
Trader shoved the gun against Katie’s head. “Stop! Now! Or she’s dead, old lady!”
Heart racing, adrenaline pumping through her body, everything in her said action. Jennifer willed herself to stop. But what could she do now?
The answer came. With Katie unconscious, she had to take the brunt of Trader’s anger. It was a calculated risk, but no other choice remained.
“You’re really a tough old man. You let a bound, one-hundred-ten-pound girl nearly take you out. Maybe I should finish the job now.”
Trader leaped at her and drew back his gun hand. His voice roared out something undistinguishable. Before he could deliver the blow to her face, he stopped and took a deep breath. “I don’t deliver damaged goods. Lay down on the floor. Face down.”
She had to keep his attention away from Katie. She didn’t comply. “Do you think you can make me, you idiot? How do you like slashed tires?”
Trader’s face contorted. He took another deep breath and
exhaled slowly. “Sticks and stones. You know the rest. But a bullet to her head, that would seriously hurt her unless you lay down. Now! And keep your mouth shut, you…”
He couldn’t intimidate her with his string of vile words. She’d heard them from him before.
Had the gunshot alerted one of her neighbors? The gunshot meant Trader must do quickly whatever he intended.
She prayed silently for rescue, for strength, for wisdom, and for Katie.
Jennifer lay face down on the floor. Her body pressed her bound hands beneath her, trapping them. She was as helpless as Katie and with the nauseating knot in her stomach, she was near vomiting.
“Keep quiet or the girl dies.” Trader paused. “I saw your white wedding dress.” His voice changed. It now sounded devoid of emotion, devoid of life. “You won’t need it where you’re going, not ever. In fact, you’ll never wear white again.”
She needed some new plan of action, but nothing emerged from her jumble of fragmented thoughts.
“There’s a Gulfstream 650 waiting for you at the airport, old lady. You’re no sixteen-year-old, exotic beauty. Twenty-six years old. I wouldn’t pay two cents for you, but my fool of a client thinks you’re worth a million dollars.”
An involuntary grunt left her when Trader yanked her hair to pull her head up from the floor.
Then came the sucking sound of a sealed container opening. A sickening, sweet odor assaulted her, sending her nauseated stomach into spasms.
Then Trader pressed a box over her mouth and nose.
In order to breathe, she had to inhale. Couldn’t hold her breath. Panic only deepened her breathing. The sweet smell added to her nausea. Her head buzzed and her vision faded…
****
Lee’s men’s meeting had ended early. He wanted to see Katie, and he needed to see Jennifer. The wedding, still two weeks away, couldn’t come soon enough for him.
A block from Jennifer’s place, a man ran down the sidewalk, away from the apartment.
He was tall and his gait looked familiar. Trader!
Lee’s mind exploded into panic. He hit the accelerator. His car surged forward, and then screeched to a stop in front of the apartment building. He ran through the open door and into Jennifer’s apartment.
Blood on the carpet. More blood splattered all over one wall. His chest pounded out his rising panic.
He moved into the kitchen. Someone left the knife drawer open.
As his gaze took in one ominous bit of evidence after another, his thoughts raced towards a destination he could not let them reach.
God, please help Jennifer. Help Katie…and me.
He needed the FBI. He hit the speed dial for Peterson and explained the situation At least, he thought he did. Perhaps he’d spoken incoherent rubbish to an answering machine. Either way, Peterson would figure it out.
Across the street, a van sat fifty yards away. It appeared to have one or more flat tires. Flat tires were encouraging, and if that was Trader’s van, he couldn’t have gotten away. But where was Jennifer? He needed to check the vehicle.
When he reached the back of the van, a noise sounded to his right. He spun towards it, ready to defend himself.
A voice came from some shrubbery along the sidewalk. “Lee, we’re over here.”
“Katie, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m OK, but—”
“What about Jennifer?”
“She’s asleep. Trader drugged her. She let him do it to save me, so I had to think of a way to save her.”
“Where is she, Katie?”
“Here in the bushes. I hid her.”
“You carried her?”
“Only from the van. I had to. I slashed his tires and he was really mad. He would have killed both of us, so I hid Jennifer, and Trader ran away when he saw the flat tires.”
Jennifer lay in the grass between waist-high shrubs.
“She’s breathing, Lee, but it’s not normal. Something’s wrong.”
“Watch for Trader while I call for help.” He dialed 911 on his cell. Why had he called Peterson instead of 911? What was he thinking?
The call-center operator answered with her well-rehearsed questions. At least now he knew what to tell them about Jennifer. He could be thankful for that much.
Katie stepped close. He curled an arm around her while he relayed information to the call center.
“I hear the sirens, Katie. You flag them down. I’m going to watch Jenn.”
Her irregular breathing grew worse, but the operator said the ambulance was almost there.
A police car slid around the corner, siren wailing, red and blue lights flashing. It rolled down the street towards them.
He closed his cell and lifted Jennifer, carrying her in his arms to the edge of the street.
The lines in Katie’s face revealed an agony nearly as great as his own.
He kissed Jennifer’s forehead, and then looked at Katie. “I can never thank you enough. You saved her from Trader. You’re as amazing as Jennifer.”
At his words, tears streamed down Katie’s face. She stood beside him, one arm around his waist and her other hand lightly stroking Jennifer’s head. “He was going to sell her, Lee. I don’t think he would’ve intentionally hurt her. She’ll be all right. She has to be.”
Katie’s head. She wasn’t all right. “Is that a lump on your head?” He looked more closely. “There’s blood, too.”
“He hit me with his gun. It knocked me out for…I think only a few seconds. But real life isn’t like the movies. People don’t stay unconscious just because you hit them on the head. I faked it.” She paused. “You should’ve seen what Jennifer did to Trader’s face. I only caught a glimpse from the corner of one eye, but when she kicked him, she smashed his nose completely flat. Blood splattered all over the place. The blood in the apartment is all Trader’s.”
The first police car pulled to the curb.
An ambulance trailed closely behind it.
“When the ambulance gets here, I’m going to insist they check you out for a concussion.”
“I’m OK. I’m not leaving Jennifer. Not now. Not ever.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I’m sure you have no serious injuries. I think there’s a lot more about the war in Jennifer’s apartment I haven’t heard yet.”
“Some of it you don’t want to hear. What Trader said was awful. I don’t see how a human being can become that evil.”
The policeman jumped from his vehicle and approached them. “Are you Lee Brandt?”
“Yes, officer.”
“Agent Peterson, FBI, said to tell you he’s all over this. The guy called Trader, he won’t get away this time. We have his description and we’ve sealed off the whole area. Is that his van?”
“Yeah. The apartment where this started is the one down the street. The one with the door standing open. But we’ve got two injured ladies here. My fiancée has been drugged and she’s not breathing well. My daughter, Katie, was hit on the head. Can I ride in the ambulance with them?”
Katie’s mouth dropped open.
“I’ll talk to the EMTs. It’s up to them.”
The officer ran to the ambulance which had stopped behind the police car. The ambulance doors flew open. A man and a woman jumped out.
The officer returned with the two EMTs. The man checked Jennifer while the woman examined Katie’s head wound and launched into a series of questions.
Lee watched as a male EMT checked Jennifer’s vital signs. “How is she doing?”
“We need to get her stabilized. Since we don’t know what’s in her bloodstream, I can’t say more at this point.”
“May I ride to the hospital with you? She’s my fiancée.”
The man looked at Katie as if waiting for her to respond.
They were going to leave him here because of Katie. He had to remedy that.
“And she’s my daughter.”
“Mister, you don’t look old enough to—never mind. If you promise to sit
by your daughter and not interfere, it’s OK.”
“Thanks, guys.”
Katie put her hand in Lee’s and leaned on his shoulder. “What you said to the driver, it wasn’t—”
“You are my daughter. We’ve already committed to that. Just like the police and these EMTs, we do what’s needed and let the paperwork catch up.”
****
After the ambulance stopped in front of the wide emergency-room doors, two men unloaded Jennifer.
Doctors and nurses swarmed around the gurney when it passed through the doors.
Jennifer was in good hands, but the obvious concern of the medical staff gave him a sick feeling. He fought off the nausea. It wouldn’t do to let Katie see him throwing up.
In a few moments, they took Katie into an examining room, and he waited alone.
An hour later, Katie emerged with an ER doctor.
“She doesn’t have a concussion. But, as a precaution, watch for these symptoms.” The doctor handed Lee a piece of paper. “And you need to sign some forms in the office.”
A man in scrubs came down the hall.
“Are you Lee Brandt, Jennifer Akihara’s fiancé?”
“Yes. How is Jennifer?”
“I’m Doctor Pruitt. The reason we haven’t provided status earlier is it took some detective work to determine what drugs were used on her. There were things we couldn’t risk doing until we knew—”
“Doctor, please just tell me her condition.” His voice and stomach shook.
“Jennifer is in intensive care. We think she inhaled chloroformyle, a fast-acting form of chloroform. Then someone injected her with one of the benzodiazepines. We thought she was stabilized, but she slipped into a coma. Unfortunately, Jennifer is a small person. For her, the amount was an overdose. In addition, her body reacted badly to the drug. We are—”
“What’s her prognosis, doctor?” Any more delays and he would lose it.
The doctor’s expression said he understood. “We’ve started her on a reversal agent to counteract the overdose of the sedative and administered something for the allergic reaction. We should know soon how effectively the treatment is working. The coma…we have to wait to see if she comes out of—”
