I tried to phone her again, but still there was no answer. I’ll surprise her, I told myself again.
I was anxious to get there, and grateful to Sarah for taking responsibility for the children, for making sure they got back to their parents. I thought about the children. Will their parents accept them, once they know the truth?
If not, Lynne and I will become their parents. For as long as they remain children.
God willing…
“Lynne!” I called out as I entered the house. “Darlin,’ I’m home!”
There was no response.
I looked around, floored by the sudden realization that I was alone. There was no one there. Where could they have gone? Were they safe? I climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. The bed was made. Everything was in order. The bassinet still sat near the bed.
I opened the closet. It was empty. Their clothes were gone.
My heart sank. They were gone—and I had no idea where they had gone. I dropped into the rocking chair, the same chair in which I’d rocked my newborn son. I buried my face in my hands and cried openly. I was finally free, and they were gone.
“Tell me where they’ve gone!” I shouted. “Let me go to them!”
“Not yet.”
I looked up. Gabriel stood in the doorway.
“Where are they?” I demanded.
“They’re safe. Protected.”
“Where?” I asked again.
“You can’t go to them. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“You made a promise,” Gabriel reminded me. “You have an obligation—or did you only make that promise to be free of the cartel’s prison?”
“No, of course not.” I insisted. “But I didn’t know I wasn’t going to be allowed to return to my family.”
“You’ll see them again.”
“When?”
“After you achieve communion with God.”
91
Caitlin
“I just got a NOTICE from Interpol,” I told Jack. “Believe it or not, Andrew Stewart is alive and well and spotted at the airport in Christchurch, New Zealand.”
“Where do you think he’s been all this time?”
I thought about it. “Haven’t a clue.” I continued to stare at the NOTICE.
“What would he be doing in New Zealand?” Jack asked.
“That must be where he stashed his wife and kid,” I decided. “Now that he’s resurfaced, we have to bring him in. And unfortunately, there’s still the matter of the murder of Julian Marshall.”
“The evidence there is circumstantial at best,” Jack said.
“They still want him—and his wife—for questioning.”
“If he did kill Marshall,” Jack said, “he should get a medal for it.”
92
Darcy
I put my new digital camera in its case and began the task of sorting through my extensive photo files from the past. That was when I found the photographs I’d taken of Lynne and Connor Mackenzie’s—Andrew Stewart’s—wedding.
Were they legally married? I wondered now. Wouldn’t marrying her using a false identity constitute fraud?
I doubted that would matter to Lynne. I looked at the wedding photograph for a long time. Her eyes…the way she looked at her new husband…she’d never looked at me that way. She’d forgive him anything, I think. How had she put it? They were joined at the soul.
I put it aside and picked up the shots I’d gotten of Connor alone: at the little church in Jerusalem, waiting for Lynne; at the excavation site in the Sinai; out in the desert…always flanked by those two ghostly figures.
Spirits, I thought. What a nutty idea.
I knew Lynne was still alive, but I had no idea where she was now. I knew she’d want these photographs. She’d want them for her kid, so he’d at least know what his father looked like.
Her partner, Tim. He’ll know how to contact her, I thought, going to my computer. I’ll send them to him. He’ll see that she gets them….
93
Connor
I rented a camel and camping gear from a Bedouin guide. I didn’t understand what I was about to do, but that was, it seemed, part of the plan. I had to do this as a test of faith.
“Go to the summit and wait.”
“Wait…for what?”
“Your Father will tell you in his timing.”
“How long will I have to stay up there?” I asked.
“Your Father will tell you in his timing.”
“When can I see my wife and son?” I asked impatiently.
“In time.”
I was still struggling with this new reality. I had surrendered myself to God, but could I go through with it? Could I be the prophet I was supposedly created to be? Could I give up control of my life? All I wanted was to be a normal man with a normal life with my wife and child.
“There’s no turning back now,” I told myself.
I zipped up my jacket, pulled up the hood and mounted the camel. The wind was in my face as I began the climb to the summit….
I set up camp at the top of the mountain and filled my canteens from the natural spring there. “This is the only mountain in the Sinai that has a natural spring,” Lynne had told me. “The Bible says the mountain Moses climbed had such a spring.”
She had wanted to climb this mountain because she believed Moses had climbed it thousands of years ago. My wife wanted that kind of communion with God. I, who had never sought such a thing, had been summoned to receive it. Why? Why me?
I took the Bible she'd given me from my backpack and sat near the fire I’d built. I tried to read, but found I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lynne and Kiwi. Please, let me go to them, wherever they are. Let me put my mind at ease so I can focus.
“You can’t bargain with God, Connor.”
I looked up. Gabriel stood near my tent, a look of disapproval on his face. “I don’t understand,” I admitted. "I don't understand it at all."
“No, you don’t, but you will soon,” Gabriel assured me.
“Lynne and Daniel—I need to know they’re safe,” I said.
“They are quite safe,” Gabriel assured me. “Protected.”
“Where are they?”
“In time, you will be reunited with them,” the angel promised. “First, however, you must prove yourself to God. You must stay until He sends you back to them. You must accept the calling for which you came into this world.”
“I do accept it!” I insisted. “Am I wrong to want to be with them? It’s been a year and a half.”
“You will not have to wait much longer,” Gabriel told me.
But for me, even a day longer was too long.
94
Darcy
“I’ve decided to publish your spook photos,” Alberta told me.
I looked at her, trying not to laugh. “My what?”
“The photographs you took of Andrew Stewart, Connor Mackenzie, whoever the hell he is,” Alberta said. “He’s news, with the break in the GenTech abduction case.”
“You’re all heart,” I said, flopping into one of the chairs in her office.
“You never liked the man,” Alberta reminded me. “Why does it suddenly matter to you?”
“I would imagine Duchess—Lynne—won’t take it well,” I said, making it clear my concern was for Lynne.
Alberta softened. “Have you heard from her?” she wanted to know.
I shook my head. “Not a word since she and Mackenzie faked their deaths—not since I left their dig in Egypt, actually,” I said. “I don’t even know where she is. I did contact her former partner, Tim O’Halloran. I sent her copies of the photographs through him. Thought she might want them for her son. As I recall, he didn’t allow many to be taken of him.”
Alberta was leafing through the photographs. “Looking at these, I can see why.”
95
Lynne
“I’ve thought about it, but I can’t, Tim,” I said, cradling the
telephone on my shoulder. “Not yet.”
“It would be hard to be here without Connor, I know,” Tim said.
I was silent for a moment, thinking. “It would be impossible—for now,” I admitted. “It took me so long to find him, Tim. How do I go back to business as usual without him?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I know you’ll make it. You’ve always been tough.”
“We all have our limits,” I said.
“And you have that baby you always wanted,” he reminded me.
I managed a little laugh. “Not such a baby anymore,” I said. “He’s actually a miniature version of Connor.”
“Lynne, about that—I sent you a package. Forwarded it from Darcy,” he said.
“Darcy?” I asked, surprised. “Why would he be sending me a package?”
“I think you’re going to want this,” Tim told me. “It’s photographs. Of Connor.”
I sank into a chair. “The only one I had of him was taken at our wedding,” I said quietly.
“I know. That’s why I figured you’d want these.”
I had to struggle to maintain my composure. “At least Kiwi will know what his father looked like.”
I held the large cardboard mailer in my hand, not sure I was ready to see what it contained. It was labeled PHOTOGRAPHS: HAND CANCEL. How hard was it going to be to look at them?
I sat on the couch and carefully opened it, withdrawing the contents. The first photograph was of Connor at the church before our wedding. He was standing at the window, bathed in light.
From where? I wondered. We had a candlelight ceremony. At night.
Then I noticed the transparent figure behind him. At first, I thought it was a flaw. I examined it closely. The form appeared to be human.
Double exposure?
The same figures appeared in all of the photos. Is it possible? Could they be angels?
“Mummy?”
I looked up from the photographs in my lap. Kiwi was watching me, a puzzled expression on his small face. “What’s that?” he asked.
I smiled. “Come look,” I said, patting the couch. He climbed up next to me, and I showed him each of the photos. “That’s your daddy,” I told him.
He smiled up at me, and seeing his face next to the images of his father’s was painful. Kiwi really was a tiny version of Connor. I imagined my son at thirty, looking exactly like his father, and it broke my heart.
He frowned. “Don’t cry, Mummy,” he said, patting my arm. “Don’t cry.”
I wiped my eyes. “I just miss your daddy, baby,” I said.
“Daddy's coming home,” the child said.
I pulled him into my arms and held him close. When does the pain stop?
96
Connor
I didn’t know how long I’d been on the mountain. I’d lost track of time. I watched the sun rise every morning. I read my Bible. I prayed. I fasted when it was demanded of me. I slept—and I dreamed. Still, I did not understand why I was here or what was expected of me.
I dreamed of my family, of Lynne, of Kiwi, of Sarah, of my mother. And I talked to God.
“I know I should be able to forgive Edward, but I can’t. Not yet,” I confessed. “The man destroyed us, Sarah and me. He used my mother and let them kill her. He would have let them kill Lynne as well. How do I forgive that?”
“If you don’t forgive him, you’re the one who will suffer. It will poison your soul.”
“He’s dead now. He got what he deserved,” I said.
“Yes, he has been judged.”
“I hope he’s burning in hell.”
“You must let go of the past. Only then can you fulfill your calling.”
“I’m not sure I ever can,” I said, pushing the dying embers of the fire about with a stick.
“You must. You cannot let anything stand in the way of your mission.”
“Maybe you’ve got the wrong man, then.”
And the next day, the dialogue would begin anew….
97
Lynne
“I’m not sure I can stay here,” I told Tim, “but I don't know what I want to do or where I want to live.”
“Come back to work,” he urged me once again.
“Maybe one day, but not now,” I said with deep sadness. “I need to start over, I think.”
“But you’re not starting over,” he argued. “You say you’ve accepted that he’s really gone, but you still wait for him to come walking through your door.”
“I’ve been offered a teaching position in Baltimore,” I said then, trying to change the subject.
“You’re no desk jockey, babe.”
“I don’t know what I am anymore.”
“You don’t have to work at all,” he said. “Connor left you an obscenely rich woman.”
“That’s going into a trust for Kiwi,” I insisted.
“Think you’ll ever come back to us?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve lost the ability to think beyond today.”
98
Connor
I had reached the breaking point.
I had no idea how long I’d been on the mountain. I knew only that food had become scarce, I was dirty and smelled of sweat and filth. My hair had grown long, as had my beard. I was a broken man who was desperate to be reunited with my family, a man trying to be what was expected of me but afraid I could never measure up. On this mountain, my wealth meant nothing. My genius meant nothing. My education meant nothing. My past meant nothing. There was only now.
Please, just tell me what you want of me so I can go home, I thought.
“Where is home, prophet?”
I looked up. “I don’t know,” I realized. “I no longer have a home.”
“Yes, you do.”
“My home is wherever my wife and child are,” I said. It was the only answer I could give truthfully.
“Yet you have come and you have stayed as you were commanded to do.”
“I believe. Is that what I need to say? Is that what I have to prove?”
“Why do you assume you have something to prove?”
“I’ve spent my life proving myself.”
“You have accepted your calling. I will direct you and you will lead the nonbelievers from the darkness.”
“I don’t know what to do, what to say,” I despaired.
“You will not need to know. I will direct you. I will give you the words when you speak. You have only to surrender yourself wholly.”
“Kneel, Connor.”
I turned. Gabriel and Rafaela stood behind me. “What?” I asked.
“Kneel,” Rafaela repeated. “Humble yourself before God.”
I nodded, lowering myself to a kneeling position. I bowed my head. “I am your servant,” I said in a low voice.
There was no verbal response, but a disturbance in the heavens erupted at that moment—thunder, lightning, a meteorite shower that pelted the desert every few seconds. A cloud of smoke enveloped the top of the mountain. I remained kneeling, eyes closed, praying, trying not to give in to the fear that engulfed me.
“Rise,” Gabriel told me.
I got to my feet slowly. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was the most incredible light show I’d ever seen. I raised my arms as if to try to embrace my father for the first time. “Yes!” I cried out. I turned to face Gabriel and Rafaela. “Yes, Lord!”
That was when I discovered I was alone on the mountain.
I regained consciousness slowly. I opened my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. Where am I? I wondered.
“Ah, you are awake, finally.”
I looked up with eyes that wouldn’t quite focus. The man who stood over me was unmistakably Bedouin, tall and swarthy. He held a bowl in his hand. I didn’t know what was in the bowl, but it did smell good.
I tried to pull myself upright, but was too weak. I fell back against the pillow, frustrated.
“You must first regain your strength,” the Bedou
in told me. “Now that you are awake, you can eat.” He sat next to the cot on which I was lying. He offered me a drink.
I suddenly realized how thirsty I was. I felt as if I’d had a mouthful of sand. “Do not drink too fast,” the other man warned, but I couldn't help myself.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“Our camp is at the foot of the mountain, not far from where you came down.” The Bedouin spoon-fed me. “You collapsed. We have been tending you since.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks!” I tried to get up again, but the man stopped me.
“You must be patient.”
“My wife and son—I have to find them,” I insisted.
“Not until you are well enough to travel.” He put the bowl aside and studied me for a moment. “You saw the face of Allah on that mountain.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what happened up there.”
“He has sent you. For all of us. And we will tend you until you can go safely.” The man smiled. “We have been waiting a long time for this day.”
I stood on the side of the highway, arm extended, trying to hitchhike to Cairo. Car after car passed me by. I’d been there for almost two hours, and not only had no one stopped, most had hit the accelerator as they passed me.
Finally, a truck slowed to a stop. “Where you headed?” the man behind the wheel asked. He spoke in broken English.
“Cairo,” I told him.
“You’re in luck. That’s where I’m going.”
Chasing the Wind Page 28