by Gary Parker
*****
Walking into the house, Connie rubbed her eyes and realized how tired she felt. The last few days had taken a toll on her, a toll marked by both physical and mental fatigue. Not accustomed to such emotional ups and downs, her body felt stretched—as taut as a high-wire with an acrobat on it. If anything stretched her one more inch, she thought she would snap.
Headed toward Daniel’s bedroom, she pledged she would tell Tick Garner the whole story the minute he and Tess came back from the lake. With Tick, she would go to Luke and from there to Wilt Carver. Wilt would know how to handle this, and it seemed, in spite of Sandra’s protests, going to him made more sense than anything.
Connie opened Daniel’s bedroom door. Behind her, the telephone rang. She hesitated for only a second, then turned around. Must be Sandra. She left the hallway and stepped back into the den. Picking up the phone, it startled her when she heard a man’s voice.
“Connie Brandon, we need to meet,” said the man.
The voice sounded familiar. Connie ran the sound through her mind for an instant, then remembered—the same man had called and told her Jack got what he deserved. Confused, Connie concentrated on his voice. “I’m . . . not sure what you mean,” she said.
“It’s a simple notion. We need to meet.”
“Who are you?”
The man laughed. “Oh, you know me. Black Mercedes, Humvee in a forest glade, blond hair, snappy dresser, red Jaguar.
I’ve been around the last few days.”
Her neck splotching red, Connie squeezed the phone and tried to stall, give herself time to think. This man murdered Reed Morrison, probably Jack! Now, he wanted her dead too. She couldn’t meet with him!
“Who are you?” she shouted. “Who do you work for? . . .
It’s Cedric Blacker, isn’t it? Or Johnson Mack. They’re in this together, aren’t they? Both of them with the gamblers . . . you’re—”
“You think you’re a smart lady, don’t you? Well, maybe you are and maybe you aren’t.”
“I know it’s the gamblers! They—”
“I got no time for this,” interrupted Brit. “Just do what I tell you.”
His sullen tone slowed Connie’s outrage. But she didn’t dare do what he said. “I don’t . . . don’t think I can meet you,” she stammered, hoping to get help before this went any further.
“You have no choice.”
The man sounded awfully sure of himself, and the arrogance made Connie’s blood boil. How dare he barge into her life and try to harm her and the only relatives Jack had left! She wouldn’t meet with him! She would call Wilt Carver the minute she hung up the phone. She would tell Wilt everything, and he would start a search for this man, and they would find him and punish him like he deserved! Her anger fueling her courage, Connie minced no words.
“You can forget it!” she shouted. “I’ve had enough of this!
You think you can just . . . just terrorize someone . . . stalk them . . . stalk them and . . . try to . . . to murder them, then call out of the blue and expect them to do what you say? No way will I meet you. You won’t—”
The man laughed, and goose bumps sprinkled across Connie’s forearms. He sounded so cocky and sure of himself.
“You better calm down, lady,” he said. “Calm down and listen to me, if you know what’s good for you.”
Though not sure why, Connie did what he commanded.
She forced herself to calm down so she could listen. Something in his voice told her he had the upper hand and knew it. Biting her lip, she waited for him to continue.
“You’ll meet me at midnight,” he said. “No cops, nobody but you. At the Katy Trail, by the overpass where the trail runs under the highway. You know the place.”
More confused by the second, Connie wondered how the man knew of her familiarity with the Katy Trail. “I know the place,” she said, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt. “But I can’t meet you. I have kids here, I can’t leave the house.”
The man laughed, and a pang of fear shot through Connie’s guts. Dropping the phone, she sprinted into the hallway and popped open Daniel’s bedroom door. His still form, lanky and quiet, lay stretched out on his bed. Relieved, but only momentarily, Connie backed into the hallway again and sprinted toward the last room on the left. Praying she had jumped to the wrong conclusion, she slowed down, then stopped at the door.
Her heart thudding so hard it almost hurt, she popped open the door and took three quick strides inside. There, on the bed, she spotted a Tabasco Beanie Baby. Beside the stuffed animal was an empty spot. An empty spot where Katie normally slept!
Pushing back the scream in her throat, Connie hurtled back through the hallway and into the den. Grabbing the phone, she shouted into it, “You hurt my baby and I’ll kill you! I’ll . . . ” Her voice failed as anger and fear snuffed it out.
“Easy, lady,” said Brit. “The little girl is fine. What a pretty thing. So much like you. You should feel proud.”
His arrogance prodding her, Connie found her voice again.
“Okay!” she shouted. “You want your meeting. You’ve got it!
Midnight. Just make sure you bring my baby.”
The man laughed again. “Good,” he said. “You make sure you’re alone. I see any sign, and I mean any sign you brought company, and you’ll never see your girl again. You got that?”
“Don’t you hurt my child!”
The line went dead. The phone still in her hand, Connie sagged against the counter and started to tremble. In little more than an hour, she had to figure out a way to save her life and that of her baby girl. Tears began to roll down her face, and she wondered where to turn. Tick and Tess were forty miles away at the lake. Sandra had to stay with Justin. Who could she call? Wilt Carver? But the man had warned her to come alone. Would calling Wilt jeopardize Katie’s life?
Though uncertain, she turned to pick up a phone book to find Wilt’s number. She saw Daniel standing in the hallway in his gym shorts, his sleepy eyes wide with fear.
“Mom?” he asked. “Is someone going to hurt Katie?”
Opening her arms, Connie stepped toward Daniel and embraced him.
“How much did you hear?” she asked.
“Enough,” he said, his voice firm. “Mom, what’s going on?
You’ve been gone so much lately. I haven’t said anything, but I’ve wondered . . . Is there something . . . something about Dad’s death I should know?” He stared straight at her, so mature and caring, she wanted to cry. She realized he deserved the truth.
Though she hated to disturb his young world with such painful news, the time had come to tell him what was happening.
“Get dressed,” she said. “Then come back in here. I’ll tell you on the way.”
“We’re going somewhere?”
Connie hesitated, not sure what to do. Leave him home?
But look what happened to Katie when she did that. Who knew what this man might do next? If she didn’t stop him somehow, he might come back to her house, take Daniel like he did Katie and disappear.
“Just get dressed,” she said. “We’ve got to hurry.”
Without another word, Daniel disappeared down the hall.
Connie leaned against the counter and breathed deeply. She knew she couldn’t handle this alone. Since Jack’s death she had discovered reserves of strength she never knew she possessed.
But this situation demanded more than she could possibly muster. Her hands at her sides, she tried to figure out what to do. Go it alone? Call for help?
Feeling faint, she stepped to the breakfast nook and opened the door leading to the back deck. She eased onto the deck and stared past it to the river below. A sheen of silver moon raked over the water.
A passage of Scripture popped into her head. “Trust in the Lord in all your ways and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.”
For several seconds, she pondered the
words. Goose bumps appeared on her forearms, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her ears seemed to prick higher, and her eyes widened. A sense of God’s presence flowed through her in a way she had never before experienced.
“Trust in the Lord,” the words repeated. “He will direct your paths.”
She inhaled deeply. The smell of the river rose up to her, the smell of water flowing, yet always constant. The river—so much like God, always moving, but always there.
As if drawn by an invisible magnet, she raised her hands from her sides and extended them toward the sky.
“I’m listening,” she whispered.
Trust in the Lord. He will direct your paths.
Her palms tingled, and a light touch of night breeze fingered her face.
Trust in the Lord.
Goose bumps played on her neck and her hair fluttered in the breeze.
He will direct your paths.
Just like that, she knew who to call. As the name flashed into her head, she almost rejected it.
“No way,” she thought. “What can—?”
Trust in the Lord.
The moon played with her eyes. She stood on tiptoes, her hands open heavenward.
Trust in the Lord.
She couldn’t deny the message. She knew who to call.
Her palms suddenly felt normal. The hair on her neck lay down again. She dropped her arms, and the sense of awe disappeared. She lowered her hands and looked around. Everything appeared normal.
For another few moments, she stayed still, not sure what had just happened. Had God truly spoken? If so, the message made little or no sense. But nothing else did either. The time to act had come, the time for faith.
Walking back into the kitchen, she closed the back door, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. Daniel suddenly appeared beside her, his blue jeans and Cardinals jersey loose and his tennis shoes untied. She motioned him closer. She placed one hand around his shoulders, the other on the phone.
“Listen in,” she said. “That way I won’t have to say this but once.”When a voice answered on the other end, Connie immediately began to talk.
“This is Connie,” she said. “I know it’s late and I hate to wake you up with this, but I need your help.”
“No bother about the time. You know I’ll do anything I can.”
“Then listen to this. It’s complicated and it’s crazy, but it’s the truth.”
“I’m listening.”
With a sigh of relief, Connie poured out the story, abbreviating where she could to save time. As she covered the gist of what had recently happened to her, leaving out what was already known by them both, a sense of peace overwhelmed her.
She had held so much to herself—to release it felt liberating, as if removing a stone from her back. Her listener didn’t interrupt, just let her speak without comment or question. Within ten minutes, the account came to a close, and Connie relaxed even more.
No matter what happened now, she wouldn’t face this by herself. “So I’m meeting him in about an hour. He told me to come alone.”
“But you called me anyway.”
“I didn’t know where else to turn. I’ve got an idea, thought you could help. Tell me if you think I should do something else.”
“I’m listening. And you know I’ll tell you if I disagree.”
Her gaze on Daniel, Connie began to speak, her brown eyes lit with a strange glow. Her idea seemed ludicrous as she said it, but somehow it seemed right, too, as right as anything she had ever done in her life.
Daniel tilted his head as she talked, and a line of concentration appeared on his young face. She smiled, knowing what she suggested sounded bizarre. But Daniel had missed the instant of inspiration when God spoke to her. If he had experienced it, then he would most certainly understand that ideas like the one she had didn’t come from anywhere but above.
CHAPTER
29
Glancing at her watch, Connie ushered Daniel through the emergency room and asked a nurse where to find Justin Longley.
“Three-oh-one,” said the nurse. “They just took him up.”
Connie hurried Daniel to the elevator. In less than an hour, she had to be at the Katy Trail. The whole thing seemed unreal to her, but she knew just how real it was. A maniac had Katie, and she had to save her. She punched the button to the third floor and rested her head momentarily against the wall.
“This man is my great-granddad?” said Daniel, his eyes big.
Connie raised back up. “Yes, your dad’s granddad. He talked about him from time to time, but not that much.”
“I thought he was dead.”
“So did I.”
The elevator slid open, and Connie followed Daniel out.
Grateful Justin had stabilized enough to go to a regular room, she hustled to the room and knocked. Sandra answered immediately, and she and Daniel quietly entered. Sandra greeted them with her arms open.
Connie opened her arms, too, and the two embraced, stayed together for a second, then stepped back. Daniel waited, his gaze scanning the room, his blue eyes intense as he focused on the man lying in the bed.
Connie faced Daniel. “Daniel, this is Sandra,” she said.
“Sandra, this is Daniel.” She pointed to Justin. “Daniel, that’s your great-granddad.”
Daniel stared at Justin, taking in the tubes and machines attached to him.
“Is he all right?” he asked.
Sandra extended her hand to Daniel, and he shook it.
“He’s comfortable,” Sandra said. “Out of danger for the time being.”
Daniel said, “Mom told me about you on the way over here. Said you and Daddy were cousins, knew each other a long time ago.”
Sandra laughed gently. “Maybe not that long. But yes, I’m your dad’s cousin. We knew each other back in Miller.”
“Dad never took us to Miller.”
“Maybe I can take you someday.”
Daniel nodded, apparently satisfied with his new relative.
Connie put her arm around his waist. “I wish we didn’t have to rush this,” she said, urgency in her tone. “But we’ve got trouble.” Sandra started to speak, but Connie held up a hand and stopped her. “Just listen,” she said.
She rushed through the story, telling Sandra about the call and the demand for a meeting. Though anything but calm, she kept her tone even as she told her the man had taken Katie.
Sandra’s mouth dropped open, and she started to interrupt, but again Connie refused to let her speak.
“Let me finish,” she said. “I’ve called for help, the only person with the power to do something about this, I called—”
“You didn’t call Wilt Carver, did you?” Sandra broke in this time before Connie could head her off, her voice shrill and panicky. Confused by her reaction, Connie hesitated. Why did Sandra show such a violent reaction to a politician? It didn’t make sense. What did she know—?
Wait a minute! Carver went to school with Jack! That meant he also went to school with Sandra. But what did that matter?
Did Sandra dislike Wilt so much she would refuse his help, even in a desperate situation like this? Connie didn’t know, and she didn’t have time to find out. Less than a half hour remained for her to get to the Katy Trail. Less than half an hour separated her from knowing if her scheme came from God or heaven only knew where else.
“Look,” she said to Sandra, “there’s no time to argue this.
Don’t worry about who I’ve called. I did what I had to do, you’ll have to trust that. I’ve got to go. I want to leave Daniel with you.”
“No way, Mom!” argued Daniel, his hands on his hips. “I’m going with you!”
“I am too,” said Sandra, apparently willing to put aside her concern about Wilt Carver. “Justin is stable. He’d want me to go.”
Connie stared over at Justin. His breathing appeared steady. But her plans didn’t call for company.
“You can’t,” she said. “Neither
of you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Sandra. “I’m coming.”
“Me too,” insisted Daniel.
Connie stared first at Sandra, then at Daniel. Their jaws were set, their eyes narrowed in determination. But she couldn’t give in on this. She stepped to Daniel, put her hands on his shoulders, and stared directly into his eyes.
“Look,” she said, her voice shaky. “I’ve already lost your dad. And this man now has Katie. I just can’t take a chance that anything could happen to you. Do you understand, Daniel? I want you to stay here with Sandra, stay here and pray as hard as you’ve ever prayed in your life. Can you do that for me? Can you?”Daniel’s eyes trickled tears. “But I don’t want you to go by yourself, Mom,” he sobbed.
“I won’t be by myself,” she soothed. “You know that. God is with me. You pray. That’s what I need. You stay safe and pray.”Daniel nodded, and she turned to Sandra. “Stay with him,”
Connie said.
Sandra nodded, then reached behind her back and pulled something from the waistband of her jeans. “Take this,” Sandra said. “It’s Justin’s. You may need it.”
Connie bit her lip and studied the gun. Its coal-black barrel looked comforting, much more so than the crazy plan she had concocted in a matter of seconds standing on her deck. She started to take the weapon but then drew back. Taking the gun meant she had no faith in what she thought God instructed her to do. Taking the gun lowered her to the level of those who killed Jack. Though she felt foolish, she shook her head and refused the weapon.
“I can’t go that way,” she said. “No matter what happens, I can’t go that way.”
“But what about Katie, Mom?” asked Daniel.
Connie stared at Daniel and saw the anguish in his face. A gun made more sense than her scheme, no doubt about it. But she knew nothing about guns. Even if she carried it, she probably couldn’t hit anything, not even if her life depended on it.
Which, of course, it would.
