“What choice do I have when God has made finding a liver for my son so blindingly difficult?”
“Hold on. Just hold on.” Matt wrapped his arm around her neck and drew her close. “I want to assure you that no one has any desire to make this public. Mr. Hamlin—”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, call me Andrew. We’re almost in-laws or something like that. Assuming paternity is proved.”
“If we need to,” Matt said, “we’ll post a bond or something to prove our word. A DNA test—I’m sorry, but that would take too long.”
“I need to see her,” Katie said. “You have a photo?”
Julia fumbled with her phone. Matt took it from her, scrolled until he found the photo she had taken when they arrived in Boston. “The dark-haired one is the eldest daughter. Chloe is the one with blond highlights and no piercings.”
Andy and Katie leaned over the photo together. They studied it for a long time. “She’s got your eyes,” Katie said, glancing up at Julia. “Otherwise, she looks like her brothers.”
“You have kids?”
“We don’t talk about them in the ministry. We have three sons,” Andy said. “They’ve got the same hair, same jaw line. I can’t believe this.”
“They have a sister . . . ,” Katie said. “Whatever will they think?”
“This doesn’t need to go beyond this room,” Julia said. “If it weren’t for Dillon, I would have kept this to myself.”
Andy stared at her. “And compound the loss?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Okay, the apologies are getting tiresome,” Katie said. “Let’s ask God to show us the next step, shall we?”
They prayed for a long time, some aloud, much in silence. Letting mercy rain and wash away everything but God’s grace.
Thursday, 7:30 p.m.
Destiny tried everything to calm Chloe’s hysteria. A long hug, rubbing her back. Stern words. Tender words. Walking her outside in the brisk air. Back in the suite, making her drink a nip of brandy from the mini-bar.
Rob Jones had titled his little production Heiress Unplugged and set it to a suggestive song that had been a popular hit a couple years ago. The creep should have titled it Heiress Unhinged. Because that’s what Chloe was now.
If this had happened to a Hollywood starlet, the press would be all over her. She’d end up on David Letterman, leaking some tears and making some jokes, and she’d become a pathetic victim. It would probably boost her career.
A rich girl—and a Christian—was another story. The press would have a feeding frenzy, going after her family and her faith. Any opportunity to show evangelicals as hypocrites was like crack cocaine to the media. It would actually be to Rob Jones’s benefit for that to happen. He’d probably get a six-figure book deal out of it.
Chloe lay facedown on the bed, shoulders heaving. The girl remained inconsolable.
She has a point. What a massive mess this was. Not that Destiny hadn’t seen something like this coming. No one brings a camcorder into a cheap motel room with a drunk—and probably drugged—girl without something nasty in mind.
It probably would have been better if Chloe had actually made a sex tape with this creep. Then they’d at least have Rob’s face on camera.
“Get up,” Destiny said, shaking Chloe’s shoulder.
She burrowed deeper into the down comforter. Destiny grabbed her sister’s shoulders and twisted her around until Chloe had no choice but to sit up.
“I can’t,” she said.
“I haven’t asked you to do anything,” Destiny said. “Just . . . stick with me. Okay?”
Chloe nodded. Her face was an unholy mess. Destiny grabbed her brush. She sat on the bed behind Chloe and slowly drew the brush through her hair.
“What are you doing?” Chloe said.
“Shush. Just shush.” Out of options, Destiny reverted to the tactic her mother had used to calm her. She brushed and brushed, and wished Luke were here because he would know in an instant what would take her an hour to reason through.
After a long minute, Chloe stopped those horrible noises in her chest and throat. She still breathed raggedly and swiped away tears.
“Funny how your hair feels like mine—the texture and thickness. You have the same curls at the nape of your neck.”
“I suppose.”
“You got our very dark eyes. These blond streaks are natural, aren’t they?”
“I suppo—yeah.”
“Andrew Hamlin is fair-haired. I googled him.”
“Oh,” Chloe said and collapsed into another string of sobs. “If this gets out, I’ll ruin his life too.”
Destiny lightly tapped her with the hairbrush. “Enough. Surely you’ve learned by now you gain nothing by freaking out.”
Chloe pulled away from her. “And surely you’ve learned by now you gain nothing by running away.”
“I gained a second father.”
“And you gave up on Luke.”
“Shut up,” Destiny said. “You have no right to lecture me about Luke.”
They stared at each other for a moment. And then Chloe burst out with a single snort that sounded like a laugh. “I guess we just had our first fight.”
Destiny smiled. “And we survived. So let’s figure out what we’re going to do.”
“How did you do it?” Chloe said. “Get out on your own. How did you have the . . . guts . . . to walk away from college and go all the way to California?”
“It wasn’t guts,” Destiny said. “It was pretty much foolishness. And it wasn’t all good. I got a job quickly, for sure. But I got in with some bad people, did some nasty drugs, and was on the edge when I met Luke. He was coming off the edge—onto the good side—and he kind of walked me through it. Even when I was being an A-1 jerk.”
“Don’t give up on him, then.”
“He gave up on me. Wanted more, found God. Amen and the end.”
“No. Let it be a beginning.”
“You’re giving me advice?” Destiny rested her chin on the top of Chloe’s head. So alike, yet so different.
“I could just disappear. Like you did.”
“I didn’t disappear. I felt like it, but my parents—somehow—always knew where I was. And when I needed something, they made sure it was available. Including rehab.”
“I can’t bear the thought of Mother knowing what I’ve done.” Chloe pressed her hands to her temples.
Destiny pulled her hands away and said, “I have an idea.”
Thursday, 8:05 p.m.
“I wish I could stay,” Matt said as Julia drove him to the airport.
“And I’m glad you’re going back to Dillon.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
She parked a little way from the drop-off area. “Not until I know you’re home. You?”
“I’ll be okay when you’ve worked this through with Chloe. And then they’ll get tested?”
“Both girls promised. If I can get them to agree to fly to Dallas and have it done there, I will. But I’m not expecting that.”
“Why?” Matt said.
Julia twisted in her seat so she could touch his cheek with her good hand. “Because they must know that if they meet Dillon, they won’t be able to say no.”
Matt leaned to her, his lips almost brushing hers. “This can’t go on forever. We need you home.”
“I know that, Mattie. You think I don’t know that every second of every one of these days? Each breath I take, I think, Is this Dillon’s last breath?”
“He’s stable,” Matt said. “That’s a miracle in itself. But . . .”
“We need a bigger miracle. I know.”
“Is either one of those girls inclined to be that miracle?”
Julia pressed her lips to his ear. “I don’t know. If only they knew him.”
“They know you, Julia. So we keep on hoping. Promise me you’ll hold on to hope.”
“What if it’s a no from God?”
“We’ll get our boy through it, ev
en if it means we’re . . .” Matt pressed his face to her cheeks to wipe away his tears. “. . . if it means we’re preparing him to go home. But we aren’t there yet. So we hold on to hope.”
Julia wrapped both arms around his neck. “You hold on to hope, Matt. And I’ll hold on to you.”
Thursday, 8:15 p.m.
Destiny scrolled through numbers on her phone until she found the one she wanted. Two-hour difference between Colorado Springs and Boston. Too bad.
After eight rings, the phone went to voice mail. She hung up and dialed again. This time Tom answered. “Destiny?”
“I need your help.”
“Are you all right? Julia’s son—what?”
Destiny heard Jenny’s voice in the background and Tom telling her he’d be back in a minute.
“Okay, I’m awake,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Some guy is blackmailing Chloe. Julia’s other daughter.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing illegal. Something incredibly stupid.” Destiny looked at Chloe, mouthed, Can I tell him?
She shook her head violently. Destiny put her palm against her sister’s cheek, made her stop before the girl rattled her brains away. “Let me tell him.”
Chloe gave the smallest nod. Destiny launched into the story as she understood it.
“I wasn’t bored,” Chloe said as the only correction she made to Destiny’s account. “I was selfish.”
“Whatever,” Destiny said. “Tom. What do we do?”
“Put me on speaker,” he said.
Destiny did and set the phone between them.
“Chloe,” he said. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet in Boston.”
“Me too,” Chloe said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have messed up like this if we had.”
“Welcome to the human race,” he said.
“I didn’t know how stupid I could be.”
“Tell that to Adam and Eve,” Destiny said. “Now let the man talk.”
“So you know nothing about this guy?” Tom said.
“I thought I knew everything.”
“Real name? Where he lives, what he does for a living?”
“He must live up north of Boston because he knew where to set up our meeting and that the motel was just a block away.”
“He could have figured that out from MapQuest,” Destiny said.
“But given the blizzard conditions, he couldn’t have gone back to wherever he came from,” Chloe said. “So maybe him having a buddy near the motel was true.”
“So you ask around up there?” Destiny said.
“Honey,” Tom said, “do you really think he told the truth?”
“He sounded like he knew what he was talking about,” Chloe said. “When he talked about the boat and all that.”
“To create this persona, he only had to watch Deadly Catch or Wicked Tuna and know enough about engineering to keep a conversation going. He’s probably more predator hacker than sailor.”
“Will that help?”
Tom laughed. “You know that saying more fish in the sea? Substitute ‘computer nerds’ and ‘Massachusetts,’ and you see the issue. You said you didn’t have a photo, Chloe?”
Chloe shook her head. Destiny poked her, pointed at the phone. “No,” she said.
“What about a car? Did you see his car?”
“No, he walked me to the motel.”
“Why didn’t he drive?” Destiny said. “Your rental was right out front.”
“Chloe may be right on that,” Tom said. “Maybe he is familiar enough with Gloucester to walk around and know where he’s going. Some of those streets are narrow and you have to fight for parking. Maybe he does live there. Though, if he’s a serial predator, he’s not likely to do his dirty work in his own neighborhood.
“I have to tell you some hard truth here,” Tom said. “The best way to beat blackmail is this: he can’t extort you if you have nothing to hide.”
“I have everything to hide.”
“From whom?”
“My husband, my mother—all her friends and her charities. Our church family, some of the missions we support. My horrible behavior and my humiliation would all reflect on them.”
“‘He was despised and rejected by men . . . ,’” Destiny said.
“Are you kidding me?” Chloe raised her eyebrows. “You’re quoting Isaiah?”
“Hey, I never said I didn’t know the Bible. Just said it trips me up a lot. So take the hit. If these really are your people, they’ll help you get through it.”
“Your sister is right,” Tom said. “You can’t undo this. You can’t give into it. You go through it, trust the people who know you, and find something good out of it.”
“They don’t know me,” Chloe said. “They know the person I try to be.”
“Stop putting it on them,” Destiny said. “You play poor me as if you had nothing to do with who you are, or what you’ve done, or what you could be doing. It’s easier to be their dress-up doll and then whine about it. Well, those clothes are off now, so isn’t it about time to be owning up to the bad? And the good?”
“You have a lot of nerve.”
“I do. And I’m a pain in the backside, but at least no one weeds me like a garden and mulches me to make me grow. You like the attention, like not having to take responsibility.”
“And you like to complain,” Chloe said, her voice rising.
Destiny laughed. “Yes, there is that.”
“Ladies,” Tom said, “back to the subject at hand.”
“Mr. Bryant, can’t we have him arrested?”
“We need grounds. Did you get a drug test so we can claim a dating assault?”
“No. The blizzard . . .”
Destiny groaned. Julia had begged for an ambulance, and she had said no. “That’s on me. I wish we had.”
“So what you’ve got is an embarrassing tape that he’s going to claim was consensual. And if you say he’s blackmailing you, he’ll deny it and just find some magazine or television outlet to air it.”
“God, help me.” Chloe rocked back and forth. “God, help me.”
Please, I know I’m a pain but please, show Yourself here, God. She tried to pull Chloe into a hug, but her sister resisted, catching her on the side of her head.
“Ouch.” The pain shot through Destiny’s jaw and down her neck. “Watch it.”
“Are you okay?” Tom said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said.
“Shut up with the apologies. You sound like Julia,” Destiny said. “Nothing, Tom. She caught me where . . .”
And then, out of nowhere, or perhaps out of the divine, she realized what they could do.
“Tom, we can’t have him arrested for what he did to Chloe if we can’t prove she was drugged or that she didn’t consent to the filming. But what if he committed another crime?”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have to Skype this.” Destiny ended the call, clicked onto Skype. She waited, smiled when Tom answered and she could see his face. His hair was a mess and he needed a shave, and the worry in his eyes was unmistakable.
“What am I looking at?” he said.
“This.” Destiny pulled back her hair and showed the dark bruise under her ear that stretched along her jaw. “That jerk kicked me in the head. He also knocked Julia down. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the bruises to show for it.”
“Whoa. Are you all right?”
“I’m in love with a stuntman. I know how to take a punch.”
Tom smiled. “Turn the phone so I can see Chloe.”
Destiny did and brushed back Chloe’s hair so Tom could see her face. “Hi,” she said weakly.
“Honey,” he said, “we’ve got him on assault. Make sure you get a picture of Destiny looking like that.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”
“But let me tell you something. I waited a year before I told my wife about Julia and the child we
had given up. It was the secondworst year of my life.”
“Second?”
“The first was walking away from Julia and Destiny. A lot of that was me being selfish and I knew it. I also knew we would be terrible parents and end up divorced with Destiny caught in the mess. Then I met Jenny at a blood drive. She wasn’t flashy or harddriven. She was just so genuine. Not a pushover either. Smart and kind and I didn’t want to lose her, so I sat on my past and trust me, Chloe, it was like being eaten by a tapeworm. I finally told her, we worked through it, and we’re in a good place. Not perfect because I am so not perfect. It’s good.
“If you sit on this, regardless of the outcome, it will eat you alive. Tell your husband, let him help you figure out how to get through this.”
“I can’t,” Chloe said. “I just can’t do that.”
“You’ve got two lovely ladies there to stand alongside you. I’ll help you, Chloe, but the very best advice I can give you is to tell your husband.”
She sat, silent. Not crumpled anymore but with her back a little straighter. That’s something. Destiny took the phone and smiled at Tom. “Thanks.”
“Anything,” he said.
“So how do we get this guy on assault?”
“First, get some really good pictures taken of that bruise. And go to a doctor so it’s not just them saying it’s Hollywood makeup. On the topic of pictures, if I had one, I could hire an investigator to go around the area and see if we can get his real name. Good thing you’re an artist.”
“Oh, Tom.” Destiny glanced at Chloe, cringed at the hopeful spark in her eyes. “I am not a good portrait artist. It’s the hardest thing to do.”
“Julia,” he said. “She is good at it. And she saw him, right?”
“Better than I did. Face-to-face. And Chloe can help.”
“Then it’s settled. We find this guy and get him for assaulting my firstborn daughter.”
“Thank you,” Chloe said. “Thank you.”
And thank You, God, Destiny thought. Thank You for finally showing up.
Thursday, 9:32 p.m.
Julia returned to an urgent message from Destiny. “The INSTANT you get this,” she said on voice mail, “you have to come see us. We don’t care what time it is. We need you NOW.”
She couldn’t think straight NOW, so she put on a pot of coffee and kneeled next to her bed. If only Matt were here. If only she didn’t have so much to be sorry about. If only she could remember how much she had to be grateful for.
To Know You (9781401688684) Page 26
