by Pat Simmons
“I’m getting a daughter-in-law,” Laura Tolliver said in a sing-song manner, “and a pretty one at that.” She paused when a series of beeps blared in the background.
“What’s that?” He strained to hear.
She didn’t answer right away, so Rossi repeated his question. “These people are going crazy. There’s a shooter at Bank of America, and he has hostages.”
Not another shooting. His heart sank. Lord Jesus, help us. “Where is it this time?”
“Right here. It looks like the one in the Central West End on Lindell…”
Rossi stopped breathing—or maybe he was breathing. He couldn’t tell. Jet was going to the bank to get a cashier’s check for her closing. Not only was that her bank, but it was the closest branch to her hotel. He exhaled, not wanting to jump to conclusions and alarm his mother. He ended the call and called Jet—no answer. Okay, no big deal. If she was driving or conducting business, she wouldn’t answer, so he sent her a text.
Call or text me when you get a chance. If he said it wasn’t an emergency, he would be lying, because it was. If she wasn’t affected, then that would alarm her. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head in his hands. His heart pounded against his chest. Lord, help me not to be afraid.
Peace. Be still, God whispered.
After series of deep breaths to digest God’s Word, Rossi opened his eyes. Turning to his computer, he tapped in ksdk.com on his browser to see live coverage. The news chopper was in the air circling the bank and zooming in. As he was about to check his phone, a cameraperson caught a glimpse of the parking lot, and he spotted a blue car—the same model as Jet’s. If he wasn’t already sitting, Rossi would have collapsed to the floor. So many outcomes began to play in his mind. He pushed back from his desk, rushing to get to her. Instead of walking out the door, his knees buckled, and he cried out to the Lord, “Jesus!”
Levi stormed into his office, and their small staff trailed him. “What’s going on? I think the angels in heaven heard you.”
“There’s a standoff at the Bank of America. Jet may be there.”
His cousin froze. The color seemed to drain from his face. “You’re kidding?” A news junkie, Levi’s hand shook as he reached for the remote. He used his right hand to help his left one point it to the flat screen across the room. After Levi’s three failed attempts to turn on the TV, images finally flashed across the screen.
“Sources tell News Channel Five that the bank’s silent alarm was tripped. We know there are hostages, and at least one person has been shot. As you can see from Skyzoom 5, police have cordoned off the area. We’ll bring you more details as police provide them. Reporting live…”
When the chopper camera zoomed again, Rossi couldn’t blink. “Levi,” he said with a shaky voice. “Levi.”
“Huh?” He didn’t turn around.
“I’m pretty sure that is Jet’s car.” His voice echoed. He grabbed his phone and called her again. Voicemail. He disconnected without leaving another message.
This time, his cousin spun around. “Not again.” Levi rubbed the back of his neck. “Not again. I’m getting Karyn on the phone to start praying and to keep our daughter from the TV.” He hurried out the office.
Rossi nodded and called his mother back as he gathered his keys. “Are you still watching the breaking news?”
“Yeah, son, and it’s a shame. I’m praying to God that crazy man doesn’t shoot up those people. I don’t think we can take another mass shooting.”
He swallowed before delivering the bad news. “I think Jet may be one of those hostages.” His mother gasped and began to wail.
Rossi, of all people, had to be strong for everybody else, yet his faith was shaken. Once he calmed his mother down, he gave her instructions. “Call the prayer warriors.” He disconnected, shaking his head. “Not this time.”
Your God didn’t save the children, church folks, or homosexuals. This will be no different, Satan taunted him.
I am not a man that I should lie! God thundered before Rossi could walk out the door. Peace. Pray.
Rossi froze and waited for Jesus to say more, but the Lord had said enough. Hallelujah. It was a spiritual battle, and Rossi was on the winning team. He searched the scriptures for ammunition to fight the devil. Closing his office door, Rossi began to speak to God. Tongues of flames seemed to shoot from his mouth, emitting words in powerful phrases. No interpretation was necessary. It was a private conversation between him and the Lord Jesus.
Remember the promise I made to Abraham that he would be the father of many nations. Did I not show you Jesetta as the woman after your own heart? Did I not test Abraham’s faith when I told him to sacrifice Isaac? Is this not a test of your faith that Jesetta will live?
Immediately, Rossi repented and praised God. Once he composed himself, he walked into his private bathroom and freshened up. He had peace, and he was ready.
Levi passed him on the way to the elevators. “Where are you going?”
“To the bank. I want to be there when Jesetta and the other hostages are released alive today.”
***
Jet had plans for a busy day after the closing. She parked in the Bank of America parking lot just as her daily Bible in Your Ear podcast finished. The passage for the day was Jude. She was becoming familiar with that one-chapter book. Verse twenty seemed to stick to her bones: Beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost.
Grabbing her purse, she stepped out and almost glided through the bank doors. It was a good thing most of her furniture from her house was in storage in St. Louis. Painters would arrive in the morning and new carpet for the lower level would be installed on Monday.
Next week, she planned to take Dori shopping for bedroom furniture for when she stayed overnight. Also, next week held promise for a second interview with American Poolplayers Association. At least that was the timeframe the human resources manager told her during a phone interview. When she told Rossi about the company, he had joked, “How much do you know about pool?”
“Enough to be entertaining.” She had laughed, but in all honesty, what attracted her about the company was it was headquartered locally in Lake St. Louis.
Her mind was still on tasks when she got in line. She was two customers away from the teller when the hair on her neck alerted her something was afoot, then someone shouted, “He’s got a gun!”
In slow motion, she turned and saw a man in army gear exchange fire with a security guard. The guard went down. Amidst the screams, Jet prayed as a tear slid down her cheek. All her plans were for naught. She wouldn’t live to see them come to pass.
“Everybody line up,” the man shouted, pointing a large gun.
Jet couldn’t move as she stood frozen in shock. Someone shoved her, and she fell on the floor.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” the manager pleaded with his hands up. “Take the money, but please don’t hurt anybody.”
“Shut up.” The gunman’s laugh sent chills down Jet’s spine. Lifting his rifle, gun, or whatever the killing machine was called, he shot up in the air, causing debris to fall.
Sirens blared in the background, but by the time they would arrive, she and the others could be dead. Jet swallowed back her tears. Huddled with the others, she began to silently pray. God, why? Did you save me to die like my sister?
“Slide all purses and cell phones to me. If anybody tries to be a hero today, you’ll be the second to die,” the gunman ordered.
The security guard was dead? Was Diane taunted like this before she was killed? Did the murderer look her in the eyes before firing two shots into her chest? “Jesus, help us,” Jet whispered as a tear blurred her vision. The mass shootings at the North Carolina church; Newton, Connecticut grade school; and Florida nightclub didn’t have happy endings. “Lord, if this is my end, I thank you for saving me. I’ve forgiven all those who have trespassed me. She paused. Had she forgiven Karyn, really? Please take care of Dori…”
Her lip
s ceased from continuing as Miss Clara, the character in War Room, flashed before her eyes. Rossi had taken her to the cinema to see it, but he was so tired he had fallen asleep. Even knocked out, he would not let go of her hand. She smiled at the memory until a voice from the outside grabbed all of their attention.
“This is the St. Louis Police. Release the hostages and then we’ll negotiate.”
The man’s response was peppering the front entrance with a firestorm of bullets.
This deranged man wasn’t looking for a happy ending. Jet thought about Miss Clara again and how she called on the name of Jesus when confronted with the would-be thief. God had told her to build up her most holy faith. Was her faith big enough? Rossi, I hope you’re praying for me. He probably had no idea she was facing death.
Peace be still, God whispered. And just like the passage she read in Mark 4:39, the atmosphere around her seemed to literally freeze. Even the gunman stopped pacing, but the brief reprieve seemed to recharge him. He pointed his weapon at his hostages and fired.
The bullets ripped apart the walls above them and the floor in front of them. Jet cringed with every shot he fired, but she and the dozens of others were untouched. God had created a spiritual barrier that the robber couldn’t penetrate.
Oh that men would praise Me for My goodness, and My wonderful works to the children of men, God whispered. That’s My Word in Psalms 107:31.
Unbelievable. Jet blinked, not believing what she had just witnessed. Others appeared just as stunned as their shooter, although he seemed more frustrated. She would give anything to read her Bible at the moment, but she couldn’t, so she opened her mouth and began to praise God. It angered the gunman, and he pointed the barrel directly at her, yet she couldn’t contain the praise. More gunfire erupted, but this time, it came the SWAT team. When the gunman turned toward them, they fired away until he dropped.
Chapter 14
There were benefits to trusting God, Rossi reminded himself as the SWAT team entered the bank. If Jet didn’t come out alive, then God would be a liar, and He wasn’t.
With a clear view from a block away, he watched as hostages were escorted outside. One man, covered in blood, was wheeled out on a gurney. Some walked out on their own, others needed assistance. Where was Jet? He gritted his teeth, shifting from one leg to the other.
Peering through the crowd, he kept his eyes trained on the entrance for the woman who would be his wife. Another gurney appeared, but the woman lying on it was pregnant. He exhaled. What was taking Jet so long? He blinked. Paramedics were escorting her out on a stretcher. Losing it, Rossi took off across the street. Everything he’d mastered in track and field came rushing forth as his long legs leaped over the police tape like a hurdle.
He didn’t see any blood. Thank You, Jesus. Good sign. “Wait!” He forced the paramedics to stop as he peered over Jet. When her lids fluttered open, she appeared dazed.
“God,” she whispered as a tear streamed down her face.
Rossi’s thumb absorbed the moisture. “No,” he said, chuckling. “It’s me, Rossi.”
“Rossi?” she repeated and blinked.
He turned and looked at the medic for answers. “Is she injured?”
“More like in shock. She fainted.”
He felt like fainting from relief. Rossi smirked. They could be on stretchers together, holding hands. “Jesetta,” he called softly, holding up a couple of fingers. “How many fingers do you see?” Her eyes crossed before she mumbled two. “How many gray strands do you see?”
She blinked rapidly, then squinted. “Two on your mustache, one on your beard, and two in your hair.”
His eyes widened. “I had one in my head this morning. You gave me the other one.” He and the medic chuckled, Jet looked too exhausted to be amused.
“Rossi.” She sat up too fast and became dizzy. He gathered her in his arms and held on to her while she gripped his shirt.
The paramedic asked her a series of questions, took her blood pressure, and pulse. “We can transport you to the emergency room to get thoroughly checked out.”
Getting to her feet, Jet shook her head. “Can’t. I’m closing on my house.”
Rossi grunted. “Not today.”
“Madam, I would suggest you relax and take it easy the rest of the day. You could’ve been killed.”
“Yes, but my God said no.” She looked up at Rossi. “I was so scared. All I could think about was I was going to die like Diane…” she said as he guided her to his car across the street.
Once he helped her inside, she cried, and Rossi held her. Although he didn’t say a word to her, he silently praised God for her safety and increasing his faith a little more.
One moment, Jet seemed to relax. The next, she was in panic mode. “My phone, my purse!”
“I’ll go back and get them. I want you to stay here and lock the doors,” he instructed, hurrying back to the bank. He didn’t want to leave her too long. He called his mother. “I’ve got Jet,” he said with such relief. “Please tell the prayer warriors they are relieved of their duties and can now have a praise party.”
“Praise God. How is she?”
“In shock, but God gave her an incredible testimony. I do believe without the prayers of the saints, they all would have been dead.” He paused. “Mom, I don’t want her by herself, and I can’t physically check on her in the hotel. Do you mind if she stays with you and Dad a few days?”
“The invitation is always open. In the meantime, stay by her side.”
Rossi nodded. “For better or worse…”
“Richer and poorer,” his mother added. “Take care of her.”
“For the rest of our lives,” he said and disconnected, giving God a second round of praise.
***
“I saw evil today, and it wasn’t human.” Jet needed to hear herself talk. That was the only way she would know that not only was she alive, but she wasn’t dreaming. Sitting on a park bench in Lafayette Square with her head on Rossi’s shoulder, she stared at the Victorian house. If she had closed today, she would be on the inside, peeping out. The madman had ruined her plans, so the best she could do was look from the outside.
Rossi didn’t interrupt as she rambled on. Every few minutes he would remind her of his presence by squeezing her shoulder.
Jet was mentally, physically, and spiritually drained. She hadn’t been this shaken up since the night she got the call that Diane had been killed. It had been Rossi who kept her from a total breakdown then. Seven years later, Rossi was by her side again, and so was Jesus.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she sniffed. Rossi had cleared his schedule at work for her. She listened quietly as he called and asked another minister to fill in for him at a commitment that evening.
She whispered, “I appreciate you.”
“And I love you.” He kissed the top of her head.
He had loved her as a sister since the day they met. She understood that and appreciated it more and more. “I know.”
“I don’t think you do, Jesetta.” He shifted and forced her to look at him. “I’m in love with you, and if anything had happened to you…” He paused, and the horror on his face was unmistakable. “I think I would have been worse off than Levi.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Jet rewound the conversation. Did he just say he was in love with her? “You’re in love with me?” She blinked. “As in a romantic relationship?”
He nodded, but his expression never changed as he watched her. Then he reached inside his suit pocket and retrieved a velvet box. She gasped, but couldn’t speak. The day she almost died was the day he was proposing? Jet was about to faint for the second time.
As Rossi got down on one knee and opened the box, she regained her strength. She reached out and brushed her hand against his five o’clock shadow. “It’s beautiful.” The prisms of the diamond blinked as light touched it from different angles. She looked at him. “Of all the women you’ve dated, how do you know I’m
the one?”
He smiled and tilted his head. He began to finger comb her hair. “My sweet woman, because you love the scriptures so much, this is how I know. Just like Ephesians 4:5 says, One Lord, one faith, and one baptism, there is only one woman for me. The other women were only imitations. Just like Jesus is the real thing for salvation, you are real one for Rossi Tolliver.”
The man was stirring emotions that she had suppressed when she learned he was a minister and she wasn’t a churchgoer. Was he going to kiss her? Should she close her eyes and pucker up? She blinked to clear her head. “When did you buy this ring?”
“The day after you were baptized. So are you going to let me propose?” His dimples winked at her.
Her heart said, “Continue,” while her mind said, “Your timing is lousy.” She knew he was waiting on her. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.
He looked worried. “Babe, we’ve wasted time, and I want you to know my feelings are only going to get more intense. It’s hard to handle the attraction as a saved man.”
Wow. It just got intense, and no doubt Layla would smack her for saying this, but there was no stopping her now. “Can you propose to me on a different day?”
Confusion marred his face, then he stood and lifted her in the air as if she was a toddler. He barked out a laugh that seemed to echo through the trees. “My Jesetta is back.”
Not so fast. She loved Rossi, she really did and was flattered by his declaration, but at the moment, she needed some quiet time—alone. She had a lot to process. “I’m really drained. Do you mind taking me back to my hotel?”
He lowered her to the ground. “Didn’t Mom invite you to stay a couple of days there?”
Right. There were texts she needed to read and phone calls she’d sent to voicemail—one had been from his mother. Jet had been too drained to argue. “Yes, it was sweet of her to offer. Why don’t you come back and get me in a few hours?”
Rossi looked as if he was about to protest, but maybe she looked too tired, and he conceded. “Ninety minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.” Taking her hand, he guided her back to his SUV and drove away from the house that was almost home.
