She wasn’t needy. She’d been trying to convince people for years—Roxanne, Meg, Eli and Isabel—that she didn’t need a man’s love and protection to be complete. The Lord was enough. He had to be enough, as much as she loved Owen and wanted him.
Lord, it was good to get my walls broken down so that I could love somebody like that. Let the pain make me love You more. Let it make me love other people more. Help me bear it. Help me carry through with whatever You have for me tomorrow, and let Your will be done. Please help Owen, Jack and Johnny know what’s best to do. In Jesus’ name…
She relaxed, more at peace than she’d been since walking into that bloody, glass-strewn bedroom this afternoon. They had to make sure Ladonna’s killer paid the price. Jack was flying down from Washington tomorrow, and Owen’s old fraternity brother, Johnny Stapp, was coming up from San Antonio.
Surely they could figure out some way out of this mess.
“I don’t know where they came from and I don’t know where they went,” Briggs told the judge as he drove to the airport.
Contract or no contract, he was headed to South America today. He figured there’d be a contract on his head by tonight.
“But she was there in the house? She knows Zena’s dead?”
“It had to be her.” Briggs passed the interstate exit sign for Graceland. Too bad he didn’t have time to do the tour while he was in town. “After I lost them, I went inside the house and found bloody footprints tracked from the bedroom out to the screen porch.”
“What’d you do then?”
“Figured they’d head back to the airport, so I checked on that. No dice. The plane they came in on is still there. So they either left commercial or drove out another way.”
“Maybe she stuck around,” Grenville speculated.
“Nah. I heard her scream. She got out of there as fast as her legs would take her.”
“But if she was with the Border Patrol guy, no telling what she’s up to. After all, they got past you and made it all the way to Memphis.”
“I suppose.” Briggs hated having his nose smeared in it.
“Look, Briggs, lay low here in Memphis until I need you.”
“I don’t know, boss—”
“Briggs, I’m telling you, if you leave town right now, I’ll have you hunted down and snuffed like a cheap candle. You got me?”
“Yes, sir,” Briggs said unhappily. “I got you.”
Tuesday afternoon, the three law officers—Owen, Jack and Johnny—plus Bernadette met in a small conference room in a south Memphis hotel. They were joined by an African-American local agent named Duncan Osborn.
Owen studied Jack Torres with interest. He hadn’t seen Torres in three years and marriage had changed the guy beyond recognition. Gone was the edgy, cynical hothead who used to be first up for the most dangerous assignments on the Texas border. Though still tall and fit, Jack now wore his black hair clipped short and neat. He’d lost his earring and the scruffy beard that had characterized his undercover jobs, and he wore a black dress shirt with gray slacks and an expensive leather belt. Homeland Security apparently enforced a dress code.
The physical was only part of the difference, though. Torres greeted Bernadette with strong, brotherly affection, letting her cry a little on his shoulder before setting her back and handing her a clean handkerchief from his back pocket. “I’ve learned to carry one,” he said with a smile. “Meg cries all the time now that she’s pregnant.”
“Meg’s pregnant?” Benny’s face lit. “You’re going to have a baby?”
“Well, yeah, I’m sorta involved.” Jack grinned. “Did she not tell you? She’ll kill me because she likes to tell people herself.”
“How long have you known?” Benny clapped her hands.
“Congratulations, man.” Owen took a seat at the table, glad to see Bernadette so excited in spite of the trouble hanging over their heads.
“We found out a couple of weeks ago.” Jack sat down across from Owen. “She’s been pretty sick, so she may not have felt like making phone calls.”
“I’m going for a cup of coffee before we get started.” Osborn, the only one on his home turf, paused in the doorway. “Would anybody else like some?”
“I would,” said Torres.
“Me, too. I’ll help you bring it.” Bernadette followed Osborn out.
Stapp opened a file on the table and sat down. He glanced at the door through which Benny had disappeared. “Owen, are you sure she’s on the level about Judge Grenville? That’s a mighty wild tale she’s telling.”
Owen frowned at his college friend. Over the years, Stapp had evolved from wild frat boy to brilliant, hard-as-nails investigative agent. Dressed in the obligatory dark suit and tie, clean-cut and buttoned-down, he was seriousness embodied.
“Johnny, the guy tried to kill her yesterday.”
Stapp rubbed his forehead with two fingers. “So far we don’t have any connection between the attack on the Sherman woman and the judge. We’ve got guys down there right now collecting evidence and photographing the scene. But it’ll take time to analyze all that, subpoena phone records and go through them.”
“And in the meantime, Bernadette is a walking target!” Owen had trouble containing his frustration. “I need you guys to help me protect her.”
“We will.” Jack sat relaxed in his chair. “You know we don’t want anything to happen to her.”
Stapp nodded. “Isn’t there anybody else besides her who can corroborate what she says about the judge soliciting young prostitutes all those years ago? If we can nail him for rape, we’d have an easier time getting hold of the other records before he has time to destroy them.”
Listening to his friends discuss Bernadette in this clinical way was excruciating. “No, because he already murdered the other three girls who were involved. Benny says she’s the only one left.”
“Owen, I know this is hard.” Jack regarded him with sympathetic eyes. “But remember, we’re not the antagonists.”
Owen took a deep breath. “You’re right. I just, well, you know how I feel about her.”
Torres nodded. “Yeah. We’ll come up with something.” He smiled at Bernadette as she came in the room carrying a tray full of coffee cups. “Looks like you hit the jackpot.”
“There’s a nice espresso bar in there.” She helped Osborn serve the other men, avoiding Owen’s eyes as she set a cup in front of him. “I put sugar in yours.”
“Thanks.”
Her attitude today left him all off balance. She seemed to have left behind the catatonic state she’d been in right after they’d discovered Ladonna’s body and escaped the shooter. When he’d knocked on the church door this morning, she’d greeted him with calm reserve.
Why was she shutting him out, after everything they’d been through?
Maybe he’d been a little cool with her last night, but he couldn’t have taken a night spent in the same room with her, no matter what she said. He’d wanted to hold her so badly, he’d had to forcibly remove himself to the discomforts of the backseat of the car.
It had been a miserable, mosquito-infested night.
Bernadette sat down beside Jack and leaned into him. Torres put his arm around her; she seemed to absorb the comfort of her best friend’s husband’s shoulder.
Owen looked away. Bernadette deserved a little comfort in the situation. He just wished he had the right to be the one giving it.
SEVENTEEN
Bernadette could tell that Owen didn’t want to be here. He and Jack were friends, but something seemed to have happened while she was out of the room. He had gone quiet, and generally Owen always had something to say.
It wasn’t her fault if he had a crick in his neck. He was the one who’d insisted on sleeping in the car.
Hearing Johnny Stapp mention her name, she blinked, tuning back in to the conversation. Everyone was looking at her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I just spent fifteen minutes explaining my idea,” sai
d Stapp on a plaintive note, “and I’m going to have to say it again?”
“Please.”
“You FBI guys have a talent for beating around the bush,” said Jack dryly. “I can say it in one sentence. Benny, we want you to set up a meeting with Grenville and wear a wire.”
“Is that what he was saying?” Owen shoved back his chair. “No way.”
“Come on, Carmichael.” Stapp looked impatient. “You want us to catch the guy, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but she’s a civilian. She’s never worn a wire. She’s not trained for this kind of thing and she’ll get herself killed. No way,” he repeated.
“We’ll have her surrounded by our guys. She’s smarter than all four of us put together.” Jack winked at her. “Aren’t you, Benny?”
She jerked up her chin. “I certainly am.” The idea of facing Grenville after all these years, after everything he’d done, made her physically ill. But she wasn’t going to let Owen tell her what she couldn’t do.
“It’s not a matter of brains.” Owen folded his arms. “I’m well aware of her intelligence. This is about experience. And the fact that she’s afraid of this guy, which will make her nervous and create potential mistakes.”
“She is right here,” Benny fired at him, “and I can speak for myself. Don’t treat me like an idiot.” Echoing words he’d said to her not so long ago gave her a jagged kind of satisfaction.
As if against his will, his gaze clashed with hers. She suddenly saw the stark fear in the deep-water blue of his eyes. Her lips parted.
“I’m not treating you like an idiot,” he said before she could speak. “I’m treating you like the woman I love.” He looked at Jack. “You’ve gotta find another way to get this guy. You’re not sending my girl to meet with him.”
Stapp and Osborn both looked uncomfortable, but Jack shifted his shoulders and dug in. “Stapp’s right, Owen. If Benny’s the only living witness, then our best shot at nailing him is to get him on tape.”
“I’ve seen the hit man,” Owen said. “Use me.”
“We’ll let you be there to identify the guy if he happens to show up. But Grenville’s the one we really want. He wouldn’t talk to anybody but her.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jack’s expression was compassionate. He’d faced putting his wife in similar danger three years ago, before they married. “You know it’s the truth.”
Owen cracked his knuckles. Benny waited for him to look at her again. He didn’t have the right to command her one way or the other, and he knew it. Did he really love her, or was he just being stubborn and macho? She hoped she knew the answer to that question, but fear threatened to consume her.
Slowly Owen got to his feet. “Can Benny and I talk somewhere alone before she decides?”
“You don’t have much time.” Stapp checked his watch. “If we’re gonna do this tomorrow, I’ve got to get my guys lined up.”
“Bernadette.” Owen caught her eyes again. “Will you come talk to me for just a minute? I promise I won’t take long.”
She managed a jerky nod and looked at Stapp as she walked toward the door. “We’ll be right back.”
“All right, but Owen—” Stapp tapped the file on the table. “Hurry, man.”
The coffee room was empty. Owen shut the door and leaned against it.
Benny crossed over to a table against the wall and faced him. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I know it.” He looked miserable.
“This is my chance to put this criminal away for good.”
“I know that, too.”
“Then what is your problem? I’m not afraid of him.” She was, but Owen didn’t have to know.
“Bernadette, this is not about your ability, your bravery, your intelligence or any of that. It’s about the fact that if I lose you—” He pushed his hand through his streaked hair and closed his eyes. “Anything I say is going to sound melodramatic and stupid! How can I tell you what you mean to me? I love you more than life.”
When he looked at her again, she was shocked to see tears standing in his eyes, making them look like brilliant gems in his sun-browned face.
“Owen—”
“This isn’t the time or place to deal with this, but will you please think about that before you go throwing yourself to the wolves?”
Think about it? After everything she’d told him, after all the danger she’d put him in, he still loved her. But he wanted her to be a coward.
“I can’t.” She gripped the counter behind her. “I can’t think about it because I have to do what they say. I can’t let him get away with what he did.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
“No. Move out of my way, Owen. They’re waiting for me.”
He stood there for nearly a minute, feet planted apart, as she faced him down. Finally she walked right up to him, pushed him out of the way and opened the door.
And he let her.
Grenville scowled when Marjorie answered the phone in the middle of a Wednesday night bridge game with their next-door neighbors.
He had come home to Memphis for a fund-raiser scheduled for the weekend. The press conferences in Washington had gone well. Everybody in the White House was impressed with his record on all the important issues. His motto: Walk straight down the middle, with a slight lean to the right. And now it had paid off. He was a media darling at the moment.
Of course, it could all come crashing down if the McBride girl opened her mouth at the wrong time. Briggs was still looking for her, but Grenville wasn’t worried. Briggs had had a lot of bad luck, but he was good at tracking.
“Marjorie,” he said with a teasing wink at pretty young Daria Price, “tell the state troopers I’ll donate to the charity gospel sing, or whatever it is they’re soliciting for, but get off the phone. It’s your turn to bid.” Daria giggled as he picked up his iced tea glass and rattled the glass. “And bring the pitcher back to the table while you’re up, would you?”
Marjorie wandered over with the cordless phone pressed to her shoulder. “It’s not the state troopers.” She always took him literally. There was a puzzled frown between her eyes. “There’s a young woman on the line who says she knew you when she was a teenager. She wants to speak to you.”
Grenville felt his mouth go dry. “I’ll take the call.” He laid his cards down, jarring the table with his thighs as he jerked to his feet. “Be right back,” he mumbled to Marjorie on the way to the study.
“Hello?” He heard the extension click as Marjorie hung it up. Rage building in the back of his neck, he sank into his executive chair. “Who is this?”
“You know who it is,” she said in the honey-sweet tones of a confident, well-brought-up, young Southern lady. “You’ve been hunting me down for over a week.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not telling you.” She sounded nervous now. “But I’m someplace you can’t find me until I get ready to be found.” She paused, then blurted, “I have something that might interest you.”
“What’s that?” he asked through clenched teeth. How dare she call him at home and talk to his wife?
“Did you think you got rid of all the evidence when you murdered Ladonna?” Her voice got a little stronger with anger. “And Daisy and Tamika and Celine? I know about those three because Ladonna told me. And she warned me you might come after me.”
“You are crazy, you little—” He called her what she was. “I didn’t murder anybody.”
“You can call me names,” she said calmly, “but I’m not what I was before. I belong to Jesus now, and you can’t ever snatch me away.”
“I don’t care who you belong to. What’s this about evidence? You think anybody’s going to believe what you say?”
“As they say, seeing is believing.”
Sucker punched, he waited until he got his breath back. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ladonna had cameras in her house.
She left some tapes and I took one with me when I was there.”
“You’re lying.”
“Like I said, seeing is proof. I could hardly make something like that up.”
“I won’t be blackmailed, and I can’t believe you’d actually put yourself in that kind of media spotlight.”
“I don’t want money. You’re right—all I want is to be left alone. And all you want is power. We can both have what we want. I’ll bring you a copy of the tape so you can see I’m telling you the truth. As long I never see or hear from you again, the tape stays in my safety deposit box. You touch me again and I’ll make sure you’re exposed for the monster you are. How does that sound?”
“Interesting. You can mail me the copy.”
“No. I’ll hand it to you personally.”
“Why? Surely you don’t want to see me again that badly.”
Silence. Then she said slowly, “I’ll hand it to you face-to-face or not at all. I just want you to leave me alone, Judge Grenville.”
He sighed. “I’m in the middle of something important. When and where do you want to meet?”
“Tomorrow morning at Overton Park. There’s a public picnic area outside the zoo. Meet me there at ten o’clock.”
“All right. But don’t call me here again.”
“After tomorrow, I won’t have to.”
A dial tone buzzed in his ear.
“Did you get that?” asked Stapp. He looked at Osborn, who was operating the recorder set up on the conference table.
With a shaking hand, Benny put down the phone. Now that she’d set up the meeting, she felt like rushing for the ladies’ room to vomit. Hearing that deep, hateful voice brought back memories she had no desire to revisit.
“I got it.” Osborn adjusted his headphones and rewound the tape. “It’s not enough for a warrant, though.”
Stapp, seated beside Benny, patted her wrist. “You did fine, Bernadette. I’m proud of you.”
She glanced at Owen, who sat in a chair across the room. His fists were clenched between his knees, his brow knit as he watched her. Catching her gaze, he nodded stiffly.
On Wings of Deliverance Page 18