Line of Duty

by Terri Blackstock

  She couldn’t believe she had shot him. And she couldn’t believe she had missed.

  Rage still rippled through her, but the sorrow was deeper, more intense. Her mother had died because of a disgruntled employee with a messed-up idea about who had been responsible for his problems.

  And to think she had helped save his life.

  “It’s okay, honey. It’s all over,” Jill said.

  “How could he do it?” she whispered. “How could he do that to my mother? To all those people? How could he let us help him when he’d caused it all?”

  “I don’t know.” Jill laid her head over hers. Ashley felt as if Jill’s arms were the only things holding her together.

  “He’ll say he was insane. They’ll probably put him in some institution, and he’ll never pay.”

  “Oh, no,” Jill said. “Trust me, honey. He’s going to pay.”

  Stan came over and sat on the coffee table across from them. “Ashley, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I never should have called you at Gordon’s. I thought I was getting you out of danger, but I wound up causing it.”

  It wasn’t his fault, she thought. He had been trying to do the right thing. If he hadn’t figured it out, they might still be pampering Gordon and bringing him food. “It was my fault,” she said. “If I’d been a better actor, I could have walked right out of there. But he knew something wasn’t right.”

  “I hope you can forgive me,” he said.

  “It’s okay. Really.”

  They hadn’t said anything about her pulling the trigger. She wondered if she was in trouble. She looked up at Jill as Stan went back to work.

  “Are they going to arrest me?”

  Jill looked surprised at her question. “I don’t think so, honey.”

  “Why not? I would have murdered him if I hadn’t been shaking so. It threw my aim off. I would have killed him in a minute. I didn’t even care what happened to me.”

  Jill closed her eyes, and Ashley saw the pain on her face. “You’ll be okay, honey. You’ve got a really good lawyer.”

  She heard a commotion outside, then Stan went to the door. After a moment, he wheeled Dan in.

  Jill let her go and sprang up. “Dan!”

  He reached for her, and she ran into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

  Clara clicked in behind him. “He made me bring him, Jill. He made me roll him right out of that hospital.”

  “Are you all right?” he whispered, not letting her go.

  “I’m fine. I told you on the phone I was.”

  “I had to see for myself.”

  Ashley watched them, wondering at the love they seemed to have for each other. She was glad Dan wasn’t dead. Jill didn’t deserve that. And he seemed like a good man.

  Clara came toward her, and Ashley’s defenses went back up. But this time, the woman didn’t look threatening. Instead, she lowered herself to the couch where Jill had been sitting.

  “Are you all right, dear?”

  Ashley was still shivering. “I’m fine.”

  “That was a horrible thing.” She set her hand on Ashley’s leg, patted it gently. “A very horrible thing.”

  The woman was about to cry, and as she struggled not to, she reached up and pushed Ashley’s hair back from her face. “We need to get you home,” she said. “We’ll start a fire to warm you up. I’ll make some hot cider. Maybe we’ll order some more Chinese takeout.”

  Ashley felt herself warming up already.

  She watched the men swarming through her mother’s house, taking pictures and fingerprints as if they didn’t already know that Gordon was guilty.

  She wondered if her mother was watching from somewhere, still praying for her. Someone was. She had come too close to death too many times in the last several days.

  Maybe her mother’s prayers really were being answered.

  Her gaze drifted back to Jill and Dan again. The fact that either of them were in her life at all was a miracle. Yes, God had answered her mother’s prayers. There was no doubt about that.

  She thought of Jill’s analogy of the bomb and Christ’s death. Gordon had built a bomb, but according to Jill, she had built one too, with her own sins. Today she would have committed murder if her hand had just been steady.

  Her mother had prayed for her salvation. It had probably been her dying prayer.

  And through the loneliest, darkest of her days, God had sent people to love her.

  It was a miracle, indeed.

  Thank you, Jesus. Maybe she did need to think about what Christ had done for her. Maybe she needed to let God answer her mother’s last prayer.

  Chapter One Hundred and One

  Jill sat on the side of the bathtub and stared down at the test strip in her hand. Three minutes was a very long time.

  She watched the second hand on the clock she’d brought in with her, shaking her foot with nervous energy.

  Please, God . . .

  It was Christmas morning, after all, and Dan had been released from the hospital yesterday. She had slipped out of bed while he still slept and pulled out the box she’d gotten at the drugstore.

  Thirty more seconds.

  She counted them down, thinking what a wonderful day it would be if the test was positive. But it would be a wonderful day, anyway, she told herself. She had spent the last week making sure that the morning would be grand for Dan, Ashley, and Clara.

  She had never expected this gift of her own.

  So much had happened since Gordon’s arrest. She had taken Ashley to her first counseling session and had hope that she could help Ashley heal over time. Gordon had pled guilty to planting the bombs, and everyone was certain he would get the death penalty for his crimes.

  Donald Merritt had also been indicted for his crimes committed before the bombing. He, too, sat in jail pending trial. No bond had been set, since he’d proven to be a flight risk.

  And she had watched Clara and Dan’s relationship blossom from one of strangers to that of mother and son. There might be hope for the woman, after all.

  As she’d rushed around packing Dan’s things to bring him home, it had hit her that she hadn’t had a period since midNovember. Had the stress changed her hormones, or did God have a special gift for her?

  Five . . . four . . . three . . .

  She refused to look until it was time.

  . . . two . . . one.

  She looked down at the strip. There were two pink lines.

  What had the instructions said? She launched across the bathroom and grabbed the box to read the directions again.

  She threw her hand over her mouth and burst into tears.

  Flinging the door open, she ran to the bed. “Dan, wake up!” she cried. “It’s Christmas!”

  Dan opened his eyes and sat up. “What? Did it snow or something? Are we having a white Christmas?”

  Jill started to laugh. “No, a pink one! Look at it, Dan. Two pink lines.”

  He frowned and took the test strip. “What is this?”

  “It’s your gift!”

  He grinned up at her. “You shouldn’t have.”

  She laughed again. “It’s a pregnancy test, honey. We’re going to have a baby!”

  The look on his face was enough to last her the next forty Christmases. “We’re what?”

  She touched his face. “Yes, sweetheart.”

  His amusement faded, and a sweet, poignant look came over his face. “Really?”

  She nodded and smiled through her tears. He pulled her into his arms as he began to cry, unashamed and full of joy.

  And she knew that everything really was going to be all right.

  Afterword

  As I wrote Line of Duty, America was preparing to go to war. Duct tape and plastic sheeting were top-selling items in the stores. Families were saying good-bye to their sons and daughters, their fathers and husbands. Yellow ribbons were adorning our streetlights, trees, and fenceposts. I looked ahead with uncertainty as I wrote, realizing that by the time
of publication, many of you could be grieving or suffering. The potential for nuclear disaster was on the horizon. The very air we breathed could turn into poison.

  But it strikes me now, looking back, that even though the worst part of the war is over, the threats remain. They’re the same threats we had on December 7, 1941. The same ones we had on September 11, 2001. The same threats we will have this time next year. Yet one thing is certain: though we may not know exactly how it will come about, God has given us the end of the story. He will prevail. And at the end of time there will be a separating out of God’s friends from his enemies. Have you decided what side you’ll be on? Are you sure?

  We in America live in a prosperous society. Most of us live in comfort. Many of us assign little significance to our acts of worship. We show up in church, sing our hymns or praise songs, bow our heads for public prayer, then go on about our lives, leaving our convictions and our Christianity behind, as if it’s something bulky that we can’t manage to carry with us. We tell ourselves that if push ever comes to shove, we will stand for Christ to the point of death. But will we really, when we don’t even stand for him behind the wheels of our cars or in our offices or as we do our taxes?

  What would we look like if we truly stood for Christ? Would we look like travelers laden down with heavy bags and awkward packages, unable to use our hands because they’re so full of the Lord’s things?

  Maybe not. Romans 13:14 says, “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (NASB). Put him on? Like a robe? Could this mean that when people look at us, they’re to see Christ? We’re to stand for him, bearing “fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matthew 3:8), and as Christ said in John 9:4, “We must work the works of Him who sent Me, as long as it is day; night is coming, when no man can work” (NASB).

  Night is coming indeed. But we know how the story ends. Whether you’re a pre-tribber or a post-tribber, a postmillennialist or a dispensationalist, or any of those other words that only theologians can define, anyone who’s read the Bible knows that this earth is a temporary home. It will come to an end. And we will be caught standing on one side or the other.

  Will we be caught wearing his robe? “And it was given to [the bride] to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.”

  Christ will ride in as the conqueror, with us, his army, behind him.

  “. . . and the armies which are in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, were following Him on white horses” (Rev 19:14 NASB).

  His clean linen.

  His righteousness.

  Mine through his grace.

  I can’t wait to be a part of that Army flanking the Lord as he takes what is his . . . and shares it with me.

  God bless all of you!

  Terri Blackstock

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  Books by Terri Blackstock

  Soul Restoration

  Emerald Windows

  Restoration Series

  1 | Last Light

  2 | Night Light

  Cape Refuge Series

  1 | Cape Refuge

  2 | Southern Storm

  3 | River’s Edge

  4 | Breaker’s Reef

  Newpointe 911

  1 | Private Justice

  2 | Shadow of Doubt

  3 | Word of Honor

  4 | Trial by Fire

  5 | Line of Duty

  Sun Coast Chronicles

  1 | Evidence of Mercy

  2 | Justifiable Means

  3 | Ulterior Motives

  4 | Presumption of Guilt

  Second Chances

  1 | Never Again Good-bye

  2 | When Dreams Cross

  3 | Blind Trust

  4 | Broken Wings

  With Beverly LaHaye

  1 | Seasons Under Heaven

  2 | Showers in Season

  3 | Times and Seasons

  4 | Season of Blessing

  Novellas

  Seaside

  About the Author

  Terri Blackstock is an award-winning novelist who has written for several major publishers including HarperCollins, Dell, Harlequin, and Silhouette. Published under two pseudonyms, her books have sold over 5 million copies worldwide.

  With her success in secular publishing at its peak, Blackstock had what she calls “a spiritual awakening.” A Christian since the age of fourteen, she realized she had not been using her gift as God intended. It was at that point that she recommitted her life to Christ, gave up her secular career, and made the decision to write only books that would point her readers to him.

  “I wanted to be able to tell the truth in my stories,” she said, “and not just be politically correct. It doesn’t matter how many readers I have if I can’t tell them what I know about the roots of their problems and the solutions that have literally saved my own life.”

  Her books are about flawed Christians in crisis and God’s provisions for their mistakes and wrong choices. She claims to be extremely qualified to write such books, since she’s had years of personal experience.

  A native of nowhere, since she was raised in the Air Force, Blackstock makes Mississippi her home. She and her husband are the parents of three children—a blended family which she considers one more of God’s provisions.

  About the Publisher

  Founded in 1931, Grand Rapids, Michigan-based Zondervan, a division of HarperCollinsPublishers, is the leading international Christian communications company, producing best-selling Bibles, books, new media products, a growing line of gift products and award-winning children’s products. The world’s largest Bible publisher, Zondervan (www.zondervan.com) holds exclusive publishing rights to the New International Version of the Bible and has distributed more than 150 million copies worldwide. It is also one of the top Christian publishers in the world, selling its award-winning books through Christian retailers, general market bookstores, mass merchandisers, specialty retailers, and the Internet. Zondervan has received a total of 68 Gold Medallion awards for its books, more than any other publisher.

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