Line of Duty

by Terri Blackstock

  Stan frowned and got up. “Well, you’ve got to have heat. I’ve been known to fix a few furnaces in my time. I could come by tomorrow and take a look.”

  “No, you’ve got enough on you, what with Merritt and all. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

  “The FBI just about has this under control. I can take a few hours tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile, I can get you some space heaters for tonight.”

  Gordon rubbed his mouth again, masking his emotion. “You people are good to me. I don’t deserve it. You’ve done enough.” He cleared his throat. “I was thinking how I’d like to give something to help with that fundraiser your church is having, where they’re donating money to the families. I don’t have money, but I was thinking that somebody might get some use out of my wife’s clothes. They’re worth something.”

  Jill was moved. “Gordon, are you sure?”

  He rubbed his mouth again. “I’m sure. I just don’t think I can clean out her closet myself. It’s just . . . kind of hard.”

  “I could do it.” Ashley’s words surprised them both.

  Jill looked at the girl, stunned. “Really, Ashley?”

  “Well, yeah. I could come tomorrow. I don’t have anything else to do.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?” Gordon asked. “Darlin’, that would be a godsend. That way somebody can make use of her things before the holidays. It might fill somebody’s needs like you people have filled mine. And it might raise something to help those poor grieving people.”

  Jill looked back at Stan. He was smiling gently at the girl. “That’s nice of you, Ashley.”

  She looked embarrassed. “I just know how it is.”

  Jill hoped that when Ashley had to clean out her mother’s house, she could help her do it. But for now, helping Gordon was a perfect way to pull the girl outside her own grief.

  As they got ready to leave, Gordon reached up to hug Ashley. “You’re a blessed angel. You know it? I don’t care if people are afraid of you. You look right nice today, though.”

  Jill caught her breath and shot a startled look at the girl. Ashley just grinned.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Ashley’s silence on the drive back to New Orleans worried Jill. The girl was still fragile, even more so than she’d been when she’d found her at her mother’s earlier. She feared leaving her alone again, yet she needed to be with Dan.

  Torn, she called Dan as they made their way across Lake Pontchartrain. It rang several times before Dan picked up. “Hello?” He seemed out of breath.

  “Hi, honey. It’s me. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, fine. How’d it go at the police station?”

  She had called him on the way there to let him know why she’d been delayed. “It went okay. I’ll tell you about it when I get there. Was therapy all right?”

  “It was fine.”

  She knew from his tone that it hadn’t been fine at all. “You sound out of breath. Are you all right?”

  “Everything’s all right, Jill. Everything’s fine. When will you be here?”

  Jill wasn’t sure if he was anxious to see her or just irritable about her being gone. “Soon. I have to take Ashley to get her car. I was . . . thinking I might bring her by to meet you . . . if you feel like company.”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  That was no help. She wondered if this was the time. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “Yes, I’m up to it.”

  There was no question about it. He was irritated. She hoped she wasn’t the cause of it. When she hung up, she looked over at Ashley. “He’s looking forward to meeting you.”

  Ashley wasn’t buying. “Are you sure? Because I could come another time.”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “I’m sorry I kept you away so long.”

  Jill squeezed her hand. “Don’t be sorry, honey. It was important.”

  The girl let go of her hand and gazed out the window at the concrete railing over the lake. Was she thinking of suicide again?

  “I’m worried about you, Ashley.”

  Ashley shrugged. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “You were going to take those pills. I’m afraid to leave you alone, but I know that I can’t be with you all the time.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ashley said. “I’ve found a new reason to live.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah. I plan to stay alive long enough to see Merritt fry.”

  Jill felt sick. “Honey, that’s no reason.”

  Ashley breathed a laugh. “Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.”

  Help me give her a reason, Lord. The prayer came from deep in her gut.

  “Ashley, your mother made a sacrifice that day. A big one. She gave her life so that others could live.”

  “It’s not like she had a choice. She didn’t wake up that day and decide to be a martyr.”

  “No, she didn’t. But when she saw that bomb, instead of saving herself, she alerted the building so they could evacuate. Jesus said, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friend.’”

  “It wasn’t love. It was responsibility. What else could she do?”

  “She could have run. Then there might be five hundred people dead instead of a hundred and fifty-three. She had a choice, and she did what she had to do.”

  “So my mother’s a hero. Nobody cares.”

  “I care. I would be one of the dead if it weren’t for her.”

  Ashley’s body language was closed tight—her arms crossed over her chest, her legs crossed at the knee.

  “Ashley, what your mother did was similar to what Christ did for you.”

  “So you’re making my mother a Christ-figure now?”

  The girl’s cynicism didn’t daunt Jill.

  “No, I’m just using her as an example. It’s like if Christ knew where the bomb was and threw himself over it, to keep it from killing the very people who’d built it. In a way, I built it with my sins, and you built it with yours. And he knew that, but he didn’t want us to be destroyed by our own actions, because he loves us.”

  Ashley pulled her feet up on the seat and hugged her knees. “My mother loved me. She’s the only one who ever has.”

  “No, she’s not, Ashley. Christ has loved you since before you were born. And he made me love you.”

  For the rest of the ride, Ashley didn’t say a word, but silent tears ran down her face.

  When they reached her mother’s house, Jill pulled in behind her car. Ashley didn’t make a move to get out.

  “Tell me something,” she whispered finally. “Tell me how you can keep trusting God. Your husband is paralyzed. A building fell on him. In my mind, that’s grounds for waving your fist at God.”

  Jill cut off her engine and shifted to face the girl. “Honey, my faith can’t depend on my circumstances. If God was good before the disaster, then does he stop being good because this happened? Isn’t he the same God he was before?”

  “Maybe he isn’t the God you thought he was. Maybe he never was. Or maybe he likes you better than me, and that’s why Dan didn’t die.”

  “Ashley, on September 11, a lot of people died while I sat in my living room crying, thankful that I was safe in Louisiana, where nothing bad ever happens. You could say that he loved the people in Louisiana better than the people in New York or Washington or Pennsylvania, but it wouldn’t be true. And last week, did God love the people who weren’t in the Icon Building better than those who were? Did he love Dan more than your mother? Did he love our friend Mark more than he loved Dan?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Honey, we all die. The time comes for every one of us. Not because God hates us, but because of that ticking bomb that we built with our sins, that bomb that’s guaranteed to go off someday. Jesus didn’t build the bomb, but it’s like he threw himself over it to keep it from killing us. Like your mom, he gave his life to save us. That’s love, Ashley. That’s the God who doe
sn’t change even when our circumstances do.”

  Ashley sat there for a moment, staring up at the house where she’d lived for most of her life. Jill saw the longing on her face.

  Finally, Ashley opened the door, slid out. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “Room 328,” Jill said.

  Ashley just nodded and went to get into her car.

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Sheer determination had kept Dan in the wheelchair for over an hour as he’d waited for Jill to get back.

  It was absurd, all this effort just to sit up. He had hoped his therapy sessions would focus on getting him to walk again. But he couldn’t even move his little toe. And staying in this chair took more effort than any physical conditioning he’d done in his entire life.

  “You look exhausted, dear,” his mother said. “Why don’t you get back on the bed and lie down?”

  “I want to be in this chair when Jill comes in.”

  “But she’s taking so long.”

  He grabbed a towel off of the bed where he’d flung it and wiped the sweat from his face. “She’ll be here soon.”

  It amazed him that such debilitating fatigue could overtake him. His mother got up and poured him a glass of ice water. He drank it gratefully.

  He heard the door opening, and he rolled the chair around.

  Jill’s joy made it all worth it. “Dan, you’re up. Look at you!”

  He tried to smile, but the relief of finally seeing her seemed to add to the pressing fatigue. “Been in the chair over an hour.”

  She bent over to kiss him, and he saw from her eyes that she had been crying. Her nose was red from wiping it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Had she been crying over their broken lives?

  “I’m fine.” She sat down on his bed and looked at him. “You look like yourself, Dan. Sitting up, wheeling around.”

  “He needs to get back in bed,” Clara spouted. “He’s utterly exhausted, but he insisted on being in that chair when you came back.”

  Jill’s joy faded, and she looked at him with those misty eyes. “Honey, if you need to lie down—”

  “No, I’m fine,” he lied. “Tell me about your meeting with the FBI.”

  Jill quickly filled him in on Ashley’s outburst with Merritt and her grief on the way back to New Orleans. His heart softened, and he saw in Jill’s eyes that she was grieving for her, too. He wished he could put his arms around her, hold her, and tell her that things would be all right.

  But he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be.

  He glanced across the room and saw that his mother’s eyes were moist, as well. She had come a long way in the last few days.

  “Ashley followed me here to meet you. She’s probably out in the hall already. Do you mind if she comes in?”

  He was glad he was sitting up. “Yeah, of course. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  Jill got up and went to the door, and he used his arms to straighten himself in the chair. Then he rolled around to face the door.

  “Come in, Ashley,” he heard Jill say.

  The girl stepped in.

  She didn’t look exactly like he’d pictured. Her face was washed clean of makeup, and her black hair was parted on the side and combed down. She had her nose ring in and several loops hanging on her ears.

  But she looked very young and fragile.

  He smiled and reached a hand out to her. “Hey, Ashley. It’s good to finally meet you.”

  Her hand was as cold as ice, and he felt her trembling. He wondered if she felt his, as well.

  “You, too,” she said.

  “I’m glad Jill found you. She’s been a wreck looking for you.”

  Ashley just looked up at Jill, and Jill stroked her back protectively.

  He felt it too, that protective instinct. That inexplicable anger at what she’d been through. That determination to make things better for her if he could.

  Clara stood up and came around the bed. “I’m glad she found you, too,” she said. “You’re coming back to the house, aren’t you? I’ve found I’m terrified to stay there alone.”

  Ashley looked surprised. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Good. I’ll follow you back when you leave. Maybe I’ll pick up a pizza or whatever it is you teenagers like to eat.”

  Ashley looked at Jill, as if to ask if Clara had hit her head or something. Jill just smiled.

  Yes, Dan’s mother had made great progress.

  He studied the girl for a moment, forgetting his own exhaustion. She looked as if she was ready to break and run.

  “Ashley, I want you to know that you have a home with us as long as you need it.”

  Her mouth trembled slightly. “Thank you.”

  “I’m serious,” he said. “You’re welcome for the duration. Two years, three years, five years, whatever. We have that big house, so we might as well fill up the rooms.”

  The look of gratitude on Jill’s face warmed him.

  He hoped Ashley would be warmed, as well.

  As Jill walked Ashley and Clara to the elevator, she said a silent prayer that they would get along tonight. Though they still seemed awkward together, she hoped they would both be on their best behavior.

  When she got back to Dan’s room, he had moved his chair next to the bed.

  She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you for being so sweet to her.”

  He tried to smile. “She seemed like a sweet kid. I don’t know what all my mother’s vampire talk was about.”

  “She looked a little different today because she wanted the FBI to take her seriously. I hope you’ll still like her when she’s in full makeup.”

  “I will,” he said. “And I meant what I said.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I’m in love with you.”

  His reaction to that startled her. His face tightened, and he looked as if the comment made him angry. She couldn’t imagine why.

  “I’ve got to get out of this chair,” he said.

  “Okay, what do I need to do?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I can do it.” He positioned it next to the bed and locked the wheels. Then he tried to lift himself.

  “Do you want me to go get someone to help?”

  The question only seemed to make him angrier. “I’m okay,” he said, as more perspiration broke out over him. His arms shook with the strain, and veins burst out on his forehead.

  “Here, let me help you.” She reached out, but he pushed her hands away.

  “I said I could do it.”

  The words were so hostile, so cold, that she stepped back, her arms at her sides, and watched him try again. When he failed, she could see that he was near tears.

  “Please let me go get someone to help.”

  “I don’t want help!” Dan shouted. “Don’t you get it?”

  She shrank back. “Dan, don’t yell at me. I don’t know what you want.”

  “I want to walk!” His voice whiplashed across the room, and she felt the impact of them. The words were like daggers, pinning her to the wall. Silence fell in their wake, and she stared at him through her tears.

  With herculean effort, he managed to move himself to the bed. She stood still as he pulled himself further onto the mattress, then lifted one leg at a time, dead useless limbs. When he’d gotten them positioned, he finally fell back on his pillows.

  She saw his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His face was red and soaked with sweat.

  She thought of grabbing his towel and wiping off his face, but would that be help where he didn’t want it? Could she get him water? Help him out of his sweaty clothes? Would he accept that or snap at her again?

  “I don’t know what to do for you, Dan.”

  He just stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I don’t want anyone to do anything for me. I just want to be left alone.”

  She stood there, hating the tears that rolled down her cheeks. This wasn’t about her, she told herself. His
rejection was not meant to hurt.

  Yet it did.

  Had she lost her husband, even though he’d lived?

  Finally, she pushed away from the wall and came closer to his bed. “I was talking to Ashley in the car before. She asked me how I could continue to trust God after all that had happened.”

  He kept his eyes on the ceiling. “What did you say?”

  “I said that our circumstances can’t determine what we believe about God. That he’s still good, even when bad things happen.”

  “Nice pat answer,” Dan said.

  “Was it? Don’t you think it’s true?”

  “It’s a little harder from where I sit,” he said. “After what God’s done to me.”

  Jill’s sympathy and hurt faded, and a slow anger began to burn in her chest. “What he’s done to you? Dan, what about what he’s done for you?”

  His face reddened again. “Forgive me if I’m not grateful for being a cripple.”

  “Well, are you grateful to be alive?”

  “No, I’m not!” he shouted. “I’d rather be dead!”

  Shocked silence fell between them, and Jill gaped at him for a long moment. Her confusion gave birth to anger. “How dare you!”

  It clearly wasn’t the reaction he’d expected of her. “How dare I what?”

  “How dare you wish you were dead after all the prayers that went up on your behalf! After the miracles God gave you when you were buried? When your lung collapsed and you couldn’t breathe without help?” She bent over him, pointing a finger at his face. “When you were lost, I begged God, pleaded with him, to save you. And he did. And then when you were lying in ICU unconscious, hanging by a thread, I made bargains with him, Dan! I told him that I’d take you any way I could get you, as long as he let you wake up! Are you telling me that was a foolish bargain?”

  “Yes,” he said through his teeth. “It was a very foolish bargain.”

  She straightened then and backed away. “So you’re saying that you wouldn’t have made the same bargain for me? If it had been me buried under that building? If I’d been the one dying in ICU?”

  He got quiet then, and his face twisted. Tears began to run down his face. She wanted to go to him, hold him, but she feared he might push her away.