A Melody for James (Christian Suspense)

by Hallee Bridgeman

  "Drop it!" Jen yelled. She had her gun trained on him. Roberts and Suarez did, too, keeping the man in their gun sights as they approached in a crouch. The uniformed officer jumped up with his pistol drawn and leveled it at the man's head.

  Rikard glared at Jen as he slowly lowered his arm. Then, his eyes shining, he just smiled. It was a look of total insanity. "The thing about you, Montgomery … that disgusts me so much … is that you always hide behind women. Never fight your own battles. Like a child."

  "You don't have to die today," James said, shocking everyone present.

  "I'm not afraid to die. I'm taking you and your new wife with me." Rikard spat.

  "You can drop the act, Richard. I know you're not insane." James' voice sounded so calm it was as if he were soothing an infant.

  "It's Rikard, you American dog." Rikard kept his eyes on Jen as he pulled himself out of the Jaguar. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his broken left arm dangled at his side. He never loosened his grip on the pistol he held in his right hand.

  "You know why I'm going to kill you?" He asked. "Because you're arrogant. You think you are so smart. I was going to take your first wife from you. Bet you didn't know that, smart guy. Want to hear about how Angela had a little crush on me? You know how easy it was to charm her and steal her research? All those seminars. All those nights she spent alone while you were in London -- those long, late nights in the lab. Too bad I had to kill her. She would have been a fun way to pass the time. Want to know how I killed your first wife? Wondering if she put up a fight, too?"

  James decided not to engage him on this topic and taint his late wife's memory. "That doesn't matter, now."

  Rikard snarled a self-satisfied smile. "Tell me something. Sweet little Melly ever tell you how in love with me she was? Maybe she still is. Yeah? You know that look she gets sometimes when she's with you? That look when her eyes get all soft and she gets that dimple in her cheek? That's when she's wishing she was still with me."

  James shook his head. "Your betrayal took it all away, Richard. And, sadly, Melody just hasn't forgiven you yet. She will, though. Why don't you drop the pistol? You can live through this."

  "Forgive me? For what? She should thank me. If not for me she would never have left Atlanta."

  James shook his head, his eyes never leaving the man's face. "None of that matters. She will forgive you. Just like I forgave you."

  Melody felt the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stand on end at her husband's words. His touch against her as he held her in his arms made her skin feel like pins and needles. In that moment, Melody knew with absolute certainty that she was in the presence of the Holy Spirit.

  A look of total incomprehension took over Rikard's damaged face. "You forgive … me? You forgive me? You think I need your forgiveness?"

  James nodded. "It doesn't matter whether you do or not. It's just the truth. For a long time I imagined all kinds of scenarios. What would happen if I ever came face to face with Angela's murderer? Honestly, for a long time all I wanted was revenge. It kept me up at night. But the truth is, God even had a purpose for everything you did. In His own good time, He turned it all to good after I let go of my hatred for you. And I assure you, sir, I no longer hate you."

  Jen Thorne turned her head to stare at James Montgomery. Though her expression remained largely unreadable, the look broadcast her disbelief that such a conversation could take place given the present circumstances. She calculated whether James might be stalling, trying to get Melody away from the madman with the pistol, but could not reconcile the sincerity in his voice as he spoke.

  Rikard propped his back against the Jaguar and laughed. "You're a fool, Montgomery. A weak fool. Any kind of real man would kill me with his bare hands right now."

  Melody whispered, "He's an animal."

  James gave his wife a reassuring squeeze and shook his head in answer to Rikard's accusation of weakness. "That isn't what defines me. You don't define me. My Father in heaven defines me. The blood of His Son defines me. The Holy Ghost defines me. Killing you now would be as easy as hating you for all those years was. It would be the weak thing to do. It has taken all of my strength to forgive you.

  "But imagine this. If I can forgive you, can't you understand that God can forgive you, too? You have a choice to make. You can spend the rest of eternity in hell, unrepentant, or you can accept that gift of forgiveness that Christ offers. You can be forgiven, redeemed, and live forever. The choice is yours. Just make the right choice. Put down the gun."

  Rikard smirked at Melody then met James' stare again. "You think I'm going to hell, Montgomery?" Before James could answer, Rikard said, "You go to hell."

  Melody stood, frozen, while time came to a stop. In slow motion she saw Rikard scowl at Jen and the detectives, then look back at her with a sick grin as he started to raise his pistol again. As the sound of the first gunshot reached her ears, her eyes slammed shut. She screamed and covered her ears. She heard several gunshots after the first, the sounds coming to her ears as if from a great distance and through a thick fog.

  James looked back over his shoulder and Melody slowly turned and saw Rikard lying on his back on the hood of the Jaguar in a pool of his own blood. Suarez kicked the gun that had fallen near the driver's front tire away and kept his own pistol trained on Rikard while he checked the man's pulse. He straightened and his eyes sought James out. Shaking his head, he reholstered his weapon. "We're good," he announced.

  Seconds later, Jen stood in front of her. "It's okay, Melody," she said, holstering her weapon. "It's over."

  James watched the ambulance pull up, saw the paramedics get a stretcher out of the back and come toward him. When they reached him, they tried to take Melody out of his arms, but she held on tight. "I'll do it," he said, and walked Melody over to the stretcher and convinced her to lie down. She looked panicked for a moment, but he took her hand and squeezed. "I'm right here," he said, brushing her hair off her forehead. "We'll go to the hospital and let them check you out, then we'll go home."

  She nodded, and lay down. The paramedic immediately covered her with a blanket. Melody started to close her eyes. "It's over now, right?" she whispered.

  "It's over," James said as they secured her on the stretcher. "It's all over." He followed the paramedics as they pushed her to the ambulance.

  He climbed into the back with them, staying out of their way. Taking his wife's hand, he put it up to his cheek and closed his eyes, praying to God the most sincere prayer of thanksgiving he'd ever prayed.

  ¯¯¯¯

  THEY sat in a private room in the emergency room and waited for the doctor to come back. Melody had stopped continually shivering, and now just lay still and stared at the wall, a deep shudder passing through her body occasionally. Morgan and Kurt were there as well, but Hal was still with the police. There was a lot to muddle through at this moment.

  Morgan opened the bag she'd brought with her, and pulled out some clothes. "Melly, honey, do you want to get dressed now?" Melody didn't respond. Another shudder went through her body.

  "Let her lay there right now, Morg. She's still in shock," Kurt said, pulling Morgan back into his lap.

  "I feel like I should be doing something," she said quietly, laying her head on her husband's shoulder.

  The door opened and the doctor stepped in, followed by Hal. "It's becoming a circus out there," Hal said. "The press is out there in a frenzy. Jen's having a field day trying to keep everyone at bay."

  "I've called security, Mr. Coleman. They're sending some people to help." He turned to James. "She's absolutely fine. She could definitely be a spokesperson for the use of seat belts and airbags." He wrote on a pad, and ripped the paper off and handed it to James. "She'll probably wake up really sore tomorrow. This is a prescription for some mild pain killers and some muscle relaxers if she feels she needs them." He pulled a card out of his pocket, and cleared his throat. "This is the office number to my wife's practice. She's a psychiat
rist, and the only person I can personally promise you who will offer absolute discretion."

  James looked at the card, but didn't take it. "She won't need that," he said. The doctor didn't say anything, just set the card on a table.

  "She's free to go. I've signed her release." He started out of the room, but stopped with his hand on the door. "Security will be here any time."

  Kurt lifted Morgan off his lap and stood. "We'll go wait outside while you get dressed, Melody." He walked to the door, and Hal and James stood to follow him.

  As soon as James stepped out of her line of vision, Melody panicked. "Please don't go!" she said, sitting up.

  James went back to the bed. "I'll stay right here," he said. Kurt and Hal left, and James helped Morgan get Melody dressed.

  They were putting her shirt on when she brushed their hands away. "I can do it," she said. She got out of the bed, stood there for a moment to get her balance, then slowly got dressed. She sat down in a chair to put on her shoes but ended up laying her head on her knees and crying. James knelt in front of her, but didn't touch her. "He was so evil," she said. "Why am I so upset that he's dead?"

  "It's just real fresh right now, Melody," James said. He took her hands. "Will you pray with me about it?"

  Melody's lower lip trembled, and she hesitated, but she nodded. Instead of waiting for him to speak, she was the one who did the praying this time. "God, I don't understand these circumstances. But, I'm so thankful they're over. Thank You for bringing me and James through it. If we did something wrong, something sinful, something not noble in the course of the last few weeks, I beg You to forgive us. We did our best to live for You. Amen."

  James felt pride flood his chest at her courage in that prayer. He brushed her hair off of her forehead. "Let's put your boots on and get out of here."

  She sat up straight and wiped her face. "You know, I promised myself years ago that he would no longer control me." She slipped her boots on and stood, surprisingly steady. "I meant it."

  She grabbed the bag from Morgan and looked through it until she found a brush. She brushed her hair. As she brushed her hair, little particles of glass from the shattered windshield fell out of her hair and clicked into the sink. She grabbed some lipstick out of the bag and applied it to her lips, then turned to James. "Let's go."

  James grabbed her to him and hugged her a little harder than he intended. "I love you," he whispered.

  She pushed him back and put her hands on either side of his face and kissed his nose, like he'd done to her so many times. "I love you, too. Let's go battle the crowds out there."

  ¯¯¯¯

  CHAPTER 36

  HAL sent the limousine and Jen hurried Melody through the hospital to the waiting car, not stopping to talk to the press. They had agreed that Hal would issue a statement as soon as they got her out of there. He shut the door of the car behind Kurt, the last one in, then pounded on the roof, letting Peter know to go. Then he straightened his tie, and turned to meet the reporters.

  Several cars remained parked outside of Morgan's house. Guests at the party waited to hear any news. Morgan and Kurt kissed Melody, then got out of the car to go answer the questions. Then Jen turned the car to take them to their apartment.

  They remained quiet on the drive, each lost in his and her own thoughts, but Melody stayed curled up against James, his arm around her. They pulled in front of the apartment building, and the doorman met them to let them in. Melody glanced at the empty sidewalk, abruptly realizing the lateness of the hour. She suddenly felt very tired.

  James stopped at the guard's desk and handed the prescription slip over. "See about getting this filled for me, please. I'll need it first thing."

  "Yes sir, Mr. Montgomery. I'll take care of it," the guard said.

  Jen stood in the lobby. "I'll go to my hotel now. You don't need me anymore."

  Melody went to her and, despite Jen trying to take a step back, wrapped her in her arms. "Thank you."

  "Please don't thank me, ma'am." Jen Thorne begged, her voice thick with stifled shame. "I failed."

  "There's no telling how many times you succeeded," Melody said. "I owe you my life and I appreciate everything you've done for me. Thank you."

  Jen stepped back and stiffly nodded. "Thank you for the work."

  She shook hands with James and, looking him straight in the eyes, she said, "You're an extremely blessed woman, Mrs. Montgomery. Your husband is one of the strongest men I've ever met. Take good care."

  Jen looked like she wanted to say more, say something to him or ask him a question. Instead she stoically pulled her lips into a tight line and turned and left without another word.

  James guided Melody to the elevator, and accessed his floor with the key. "How are you feeling?" he asked as the elevator started its ascent.

  Melody rolled her neck on her shoulders. "I'm starting to stiffen up. I have a feeling I'm going to have a hard morning."

  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Ramming a wall at sixty miles an hour will do it to you every time."

  She laughed as the elevator opened. "Remind me of that next time I decide to do something so foolish."

  Inside the apartment, James threw his keys on the table, slipped off his suit jacket, and started to loosen his tie. "I'm going to fix you a warm drink. You should get in a hot bath, as hot as you can stand it, to help your muscles relax before they really start tightening up." He turned and walked into the kitchen.

  "Okay," She said, staring at his back. His voice sounded a little off, a little formal. She frowned as she went to the bathroom and started the water running, getting it as hot as she could stand. She turned and looked in the mirror, and grimaced at the sight reflected back at her. Her swollen face was already starting to bruise, and her temple was an angry dark purple bruise with bright yellow edges where Richard hit her with the butt of the gun. She knew more bruises would appear by morning and she sighed as she turned from the reflection to start to take off her clothes. Vanity wasn't attractive, she knew, but she couldn't help feeling thankful it wasn't worse.

  "James?" She called above the water filling the tub.

  "Yeah?" He called back.

  "What's your favorite color?"

  He didn't answer for what felt like a long time. "I like blue, I guess."

  "I'll buy you a blue Jaguar tomorrow."

  She eased into the water, and felt the sting of the cuts from broken glass on her hands and fingers. She held them up in front of her face and stared, and considered how much harder that would make playing the piano for at least the next few days. She rubbed her right hand, thinking of the bullet that Rikard had threatened for it, then shook off the dark feelings that started to creep up on her.

  Taking a deep breath she let herself slide completely under the water. When she came back up for air, she found James sitting on the side of the tub offering her a cup of herbal tea.

  "Thanks," she said, taking the cup from him.

  "Want anything else?" he asked her, standing up to leave.

  "Wash my back?" she asked with a smile.

  "Why don't I go find you something to put on when you get out?" He walked out of the room.

  The headache that had lurked in the background suddenly pressed forward, and Melody had to close her eyes against the pain. She ducked back under the water and stayed there until she needed to breathe. She drained her tea, then got out of the tub, too restless to lie in there and soak. She wrapped herself in a big towel and went into the bedroom. James had laid a T-shirt and a pair of shorts on the bed for her, but the man himself was nowhere to be found.

  She threw the clothes on, rubbed her hair with the towel until it wasn't dripping anymore, then went into the living room. She wasn't surprised that he wasn't there. He wasn't in the office, either. The only other place he could be was the kitchen, so she pushed open the door and stopped short when she saw him. He was leaning with both hands on the counter, his head bowed, his shoulders stiff. He looked up when she
walked in, then turned and straightened.

  "Do you have an appetite? I can fix you something to eat," he asked.

  "No," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "I want to know what in the world is wrong with you."

  He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. "What are you talking about?"

  "You're acting like you can barely tolerate having me near you."

  He uncrossed his arms before dryly observing, "I didn't realize the blow to your head was so severe. Shall I call the doctor back?"

  She walked up to him, and stood as close as she could. "Then touch me."

  He reached an unsteady hand out to her face, but before he touched her he fisted his hand. "I let him take you," he said hoarsely. "I even handed him my car keys. How can you stand me right now?"

  It suddenly dawned on her what was wrong with him. Perhaps he was the one who needed to be held. She framed his face with her hands. "There was nothing else we could do. We had to get him away from all of those people."

  He traced the bruise on her temple with a finger, barely touching her. "I stood there while he hit you. I didn't do a single thing when he took the butt of his gun and hit you in the face with it."

  "What were you going to do James? Die rescuing me?" She gripped the front of his shirt with both hands. "We didn't have any other choice in the matter. He was in control then." She spoke a little too loudly, a little too desperately, trying to get through the removed look in his eyes.

  "I could have tried. I didn't even try," he said, pushing her away.

  She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, flinching a little when she hit a bruise. "I never would have gone with him if I hadn't known you'd come after me," she said.

  "What do you want me to do, Melody? All I can think of is what he could have done to you," he yelled. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of soda, started to open it, but threw it against the wall and watched it shatter.