Grace in the Shadows

by Karon Ruiz

  “NO!” Grace screamed. Grace’s nails clawed through the skin on Samantha’s arms. “Don’t let him take me! Please, Mommy!”

  Samantha kept Grace behind her and took a step back. Steeling her voice, she said, “Matt … this is Grace, my little girl. Charity … your Charity … I’m so s-sorry, s-she … passed away. On Sunday. She was so sick, and then she couldn’t fight any longer. Do you remember Sunday?”

  His blinking eyes raced back and forth, wild and red with lined circles.

  “Where’s Dalton?” Samantha gentled her voice and asked again.

  Matt shook his head as if shaking off her words. “Give her to me and I won’t hurt you.”

  “No, Matt.” She straightened her shoulders and braced herself.

  “Let her go!” He leaped at her, reaching for Grace’s arm. Grace shrieked.

  Dalton appeared in the doorway. He leaped forward, looped a cord around Matt’s neck, then wrenched him to the floor. The Ruger flew toward the kitchen. Dalton cinched the rope. Matt coughed and clawed at his windpipe.

  “Get the gun, Sammy,” Dalton yelled.

  Samantha tugged Grace’s hand and dashed to the kitchen. “Quick! Get into the laundry room and stay put.” Her daughter obediently hurried to the smaller room and slammed the door.

  Crawling on the floor, trying to see in the darkened room, Samantha frantically scavenged the floor with her hands.

  It was so dark. She patted the area, her injured knee, screaming. “I can’t find it.”

  “Take this,” Dalton said, handing her his flashlight. Matt moaned, clutching his neck, moving on the floor.

  Seconds ticked by as she swept the light around the floor. Finally, there, under one of the stools at the counter. She grabbed it, thrust it at Dalton.

  Matt wheezed for air.

  “He’s having trouble breathing,” she said. “We don’t want him to die. Not like this. That would kill Carla.”

  Dalton eased the tension. Matt gasped, tugging the cord.

  “What can I do?” Samantha asked.

  “Check the trailer outside for something to tie him up with,” Dalton said.

  Samantha joined Grace in the laundry room and opened the back door. She pushed the girl through and told her to wait on the patio.

  “No, Mommy, don’t leave me, I’m scared.”

  Samantha’s heart broke at the fear in her little girl’s voice. She knelt before Grace. “I know, sweetie. I’m scared, too. But I need you to wait here for just a minute. You’ll be safe, I promise. I’ll be right back. Okay?”

  Grace met her gaze then nodded. “Okay.”

  Samantha hugged Grace for a quick moment, then released her and hurried toward the camper.

  When she made it to the driveway, she heard Gordy’s voice.

  “Dad? Mom? Where are you guys?”

  “Over here,” Samantha called.

  Moments later Gordy and his grandmother arrived near the camper, brandishing flashlights.

  “Gordy, Dad’s got Matt immobilized but he needs some rope. Can you find some?” Samantha pointed to the tent trailer.

  Gordy didn’t answer, but opened the camper and disappeared inside.

  “What happened? Where’s Grace?” Shirley asked.

  “She’s safe. Follow me.” Samantha led the way to the patio. When her mother saw Grace, she ran to her, planting kisses on her face.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “No …” Grace’s voice trembled and Shirley pulled her close.

  “Dalton needs my help.” Samantha took the car keys from her pocket and handed them to her mother. “Take Grace to the van. Lock it. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Shirley took Grace’s hand and rushed around the corner. Samantha went inside.

  ***

  Dalton clenched the gun, pointing it toward Matt’s back. Crumpled on the floor, Matt groped at his throat. Dalton had loosened the noose, so Matt wouldn’t asphyxiate, but refused to set him free.

  Sammy entered the room and strode to Dalton’s side.

  “Did you bring the rope?” Dalton asked.

  “Gordy and Mom showed up. He’s looking for it.”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She took Grace to the van.”

  “Good move,” Dalton said.

  Seconds later Gordy joined them with some coiled parachute cord.

  Dalton transferred the gun to Gordy’s hand. “Watch him.”

  Matt’s breathing seemed steady, though shallow. Dalton turned Matt face down, straddled his legs and sat on the backs of his knees. He grabbed his wrists and bound them, then removed the garrote from his neck. He helped Matt to his feet, then guided him to the couch, where he pushed him into the cushions.

  “Where’s Carla?” Dalton demanded.

  Matt glared at him, hatred oozing from his eyes and his sneer. “She left. Yesterday. Thanks to you.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know.” Matt shook his head. “One of her church friends, I guess.”

  “Why did you take our daughter?”

  “Your daughter?” Puzzlement flashed across his face. “I didn’t take your daughter.”

  “Yes, Matt,” Sammy spoke up. “You kidnapped Grace. Don’t you remember?”

  “Grace?” Matt looked from Dalton to Sammy, then to Gordy, as if wanting them each to argue the point. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course we’re sure.” Gordy scowled, waving the firearm. “You better not have hurt my sister!”

  “Calm down, son,” Dalton said. “She’s okay.”

  “When we couldn’t find her, we were terrified.” Sammy’s voiced hitched.

  Dalton got to within a foot of Matt’s face and glared. Matt stared back with unblinking eyes. Something must be wrong with him. Normal, sane men don’t kidnap little girls, then not remember it.

  “Why did you take her?” Dalton asked again.

  It was as if Matt suddenly recognized who spoke to him. A sadistic smile twisted his lips. “I wanted you to suffer.”

  “By stealing my daughter?” Heat climbed into his cheeks.

  “You stole mine!” Matt shouted. “You took the last hours I would ever have with her! You deserve to suffer. You deserve to lose your daughter!”

  Dalton’s mouth dropped open. This whole horrible night was his fault. “Matt … you’re right.” Dalton’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head as tears threatened. He collapsed next to Matt on the couch and wrapped his arms around him. Matt’s body stiffened as a rush of tears escaped, dropping across Matt’s back. Dalton let Matt go and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

  He searched Matt’s eyes. “You must be in hell right now. I can’t begin to imagine your pain.”

  How could he undo the havoc he’d created?

  What can I do, Lord?

  I give grace to the humble.

  An image formed in his mind. He knew what to do. He hadn’t assumed the position since his proposal to Sammy nineteen years ago.

  Dalton fell to his knees. Matt’s eye’s shot daggers over a scowl.

  “Can you forgive me, Matt? I was wrong and I’m so sorry.”

  Dalton watched as the hardened face ever so slightly shifted. Matt’s brows relaxed, taut lips loosened. “I … uh … don’t know,” Matt said.

  “I understand, Matt. You need some time.” Dalton got to his feet and turned to Sammy. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Is it okay with you if we don’t press charges?”

  “What? He took our child, Dalton!”

  Dalton pleaded with his eyes. “This will be quite a blow to Carla, Sammy. She’s suffered enough.”

  Her gaze softened. “I guess we could take him to the police station. If they decide to charge him, that will be their call.” She walked to the couch and stood in front of Matt. “Okay, Matt. We won’t press charges but we can’t leave you free, able to try again.”

  “Grams and I j
ust came from there,” Gordy said. “It’s locked and dark. There are no cops anywhere.”

  Dalton considered a moment, then made a decision. “We’ll take him to our house. I’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”

  “No.” Sammy crossed her arms. “He scares me. I don’t want him in my house, near my daughter.”

  “We can’t leave him here. I’ll guard him all night if I have to.” He gave Sammy his most encouraging look. “I won’t let anything happen.”

  “It’ll take two of us to watch him, Dad. I can help,” Gordy said.

  “Thanks, son.” Dalton retrieved the gun from Gordy, then fastened the safety before jamming it into his back pocket. They congregated in the kitchen, then filed outside.

  Gordy illumined a path through the dark carport as everyone followed. Dalton brought up the rear, walking behind Matt. When they’d reached the van, he helped Matt into the front seat. He used the lap belt to secure the ropes.

  “I’ll take Grace and ride in my mom’s car,” Sammy said as she swung open the side door. She tossed him the VW keys while Grace and Shirley climbed out. Sammy took her daughter’s hand and followed her mother to the Olds.

  Gordy scrambled into the back seat while Dalton jumped behind the wheel. He started the engine, wedging the Ruger between his thighs. From the way Matt hung his head and leaned against the window, Dalton doubted he’d try anything.

  Following Shirley’s sedan, Dalton drove on Desperado Lane. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. What a contrast to the street name. He’d never felt less desperate, more free, lighter. The lack of electricity or even a job, no longer mattered. He had his daughter back.

  After caravanning through their lifeless town, Dalton turned onto a desolate desert road that carved through the foothills toward their neighborhood. He floored the pedal, willing the van to go faster. He wasn’t worried about getting a ticket. Tonight they owned the road.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Night Watch

  _________________________________________________________

  3:27 a.m.

  Baxter Home

  Dalton entered the kitchen, toed off his sneakers. Of all the things he’d thought he may do in his lifetime, tying up his former drug dealer would not have made it to the list.

  “Where’s Mr. Connor?” Gordy asked as Dalton washed his hands.

  “In the pool house. He’s secure.” Dalton looked at Sammy who stirred a cup of tea. “It’s past three. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

  “I’m too wired. After Grace went to bed, I needed to think. Having Matt here makes me nervous. I don’t think this is a good idea.” Her gaze met his and his heart skipped a beat. Please don’t let him imagine it. She almost looked like she wanted to rely on him. Depend on his strength to keep them safe. She looked … hopeful.

  He spoke softly. “We talked it out. He’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “Trust you?” Her gentle expression turned skeptical. “Trust you that the delusional man who just kidnapped our daughter is now thinking rationally? Trust you that your drug dealer is sorry for terrifying a seven-year-old girl? Are you kidding?”

  Her question was rhetorical. Any response on his part wouldn’t serve him well. He deserved no one’s trust, least of all hers.

  “Find some pillows and blankets,” he told Gordy.

  When his son left, he scrounged through the pantry, retrieving a six-pack of water and some energy bars.

  “Not those.” Sammy pointed to the bars.

  “Why not?”

  “Perishable food only.”

  That made sense. “What do you have?”

  She rummaged under the drippy ice cube maker in the freezer. She handed him a package of cheddar cheese and a container of juice. She topped the cheese with two ripe bananas.

  Gordy arrived carrying the bedding.

  Both men took the supplies and left through the patio door.

  Dalton paused by the pool. “Get some sleep, son. I can handle this.”

  “Don’t you need my help?”

  “I’ll take it from here.” He took the bedding from Gordy, tucked it under his arm and made his way to the pool house. He untied Matt’s wrist rope, releasing him from the steel rack that held pool equipment. “Sorry I had to do that. Sammy’s freaked out.” He handed Matt a blanket and a pillow, then stuffed the rope into his pocket. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

  Matt nodded but didn’t say anything. Dalton closed the door behind him.

  Gordy had apparently ignored his suggestion about going to bed. He sat on a lawn chair gesturing proudly to the bed he’d made on the chaise lounge next to him. One of Gram’s quilts covered it, a pillow was perched at one end.

  “Thanks, son.” Dalton repositioned the chair to a sitting position, then sat down. “Get some shut-eye,” he told him again. “I need you awake tomorrow.”

  Gordy reached for Dalton’s hand and squeezed it tight, dropping something hard into it. “If something happens, blow this and I’ll be right down. I’ve got your back, Dad,” he said as he stood. Gordy turned and walked to the house.

  Dalton held up the metal object and smiled. Attached to a nylon lanyard was Gordy’s scout whistle from the time he’d been a Cub. A lump climbed into his throat. Those days of father and son innocence seemed so long ago. He remembered his prayer, asking God to restore their relationship. Gordy seemed different tonight. Less angry.

  Maybe this was the beginning.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Morning Fellowship

  _________________________________________________________

  Samantha kept a vigilant ear toward Grace’s room. She’d already been up several times helicoptering over the seven year-old. Each occasion she felt her daughter’s breath, whispered a grateful prayer, then planted a gentle kiss on her face before going back to bed.

  Surrendering to sleep proved impossible. Her eyes burned and her body ached as she stared at nothing on the ceiling. Her mind whirled with scattered thoughts and sleep eluded her.

  Hours later, a sliver of morning broke through the window. The old Timex on her wrist told her it was almost seven.

  Samantha got out of bed, and after a quick sponge bath, she climbed into some Capri’s and a tank top. She padded down the staircase to the kitchen to begin breakfast.

  The freezer still held a tinge of chill due to the slushy cubes rapidly melting under the icemaker. Samantha pulled out a mixture of meat that included bacon, steak, and hamburger patties, then quickly shut the door. She doubted what was left would be any good tomorrow so cooking the remaining chicken drumsticks and thighs should be done today before the church meeting. Sharing the remaining perishables with congregants would be better than tossing them in the trash.

  Samantha stacked the meat on a cookie sheet and retrieved a box of biscuit mix from the pantry. She eyeballed the measurement into a glass bowl, then grabbed the last two eggs from the freezer. After cracking them into the bowl, the yellow yokes stopped her. Such ordinary ingredients would be hard to find from now on. It might be a very long time before she had a fresh egg again. After whisking the batter together, she grabbed her cooking utensils and some oil and headed outside.

  Twenty minutes passed and a pot of coffee steamed on the Coleman while the meat fried in a large pan nearby. Her last batch of pancakes sizzled on the griddle. The sun hung low and she guessed it was approaching nine. Her morning routine certainly slowed due to the lack of power.

  She’d been so busy preparing food, she hadn’t noticed Dalton sitting on a chaise lounge near the pool until he coughed. Samantha plopped down the spatula and potholder and headed his way. As she came up behind him, she paused. His Bible lay open on his lap.

  Her eyes filled at the memory of how he’d wept in Matt’s arms hours earlier. He now seemed lost in thought, guarding the pool house. Just as he promised.

  “Breakfast is ready,” she announced.

/>   He startled, looked up at her and smiled. “I didn’t hear you come.”

  “Have you checked on Matt?”

  “I loaned him some clothes. He’s getting dressed. I’ll bring him inside.” Dalton stood, set the Bible down and headed to the pool house door. He cracked it open stuck his head in.

  She picked up the Bible and flipped it over, discovering his last reading.

  Psalm 51, a Psalm of David, one of her favorites.

  She shouldn’t be surprised he gleaned strength from the Psalm’s author. David had done some unthinkable things too. He’d been broken too. She shoved away the follow-up thought: God forgave David fully and completely and promised his descendants would always be king of Israel. God restored David to his position of honor and called him a “man after My own heart.”

  She replaced the Bible and headed to her make-shift kitchen where she stacked the steaming food on a cookie sheet. When she looked up, Dalton and Matt approached. Her husband had an arm draped over Matt’s shoulder. Whatever they’d talked about during the night had all but closed the gap between hatred and forgiveness. She shook her head, unsure if she could forgive either of the men who would sit at her table.

  Grace had been up since eight, playing in the den with her rescued Barbie. The last time Samantha checked, the doll sat in a pink car, dressed for the beach with her beloved, Ken, in the passenger seat. Their plastic smiles seemed to mock what was going on in the real world.

  “What’s cookin’, Mom?” Gordy appeared on the patio.

  “Hopefully a good breakfast that’ll keep you all satisfied for awhile.”

  He looked at the empty chaise lounge in front of the pool house.

  “I saw Matt at the breakfast table. Where’s Dad?”

  “Probably upstairs getting dressed.” Hearing Matt was alone downstairs only feet away from Grace spurred Samantha to action. “Help me, would you?” She handed Gordy the trays of meat and pancakes, then grabbed her supplies and a pot of coffee before hurrying inside.

  When they arrived in the kitchen, Matt and Dalton were already seated at a long folding table Gordy had dragged in from the garage. She gave Dalton a hard, questioning stare. Was it really a good idea to eat with Matt? Dalton returned a silent it’ll be okay look before she left to find her mother and Grace. Please God, let him be right.