by J B Hawker
“Oh, oh, no, thanks,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Guess I nodded off there for a minute.”
“No wonder,” Gideon said. “Would you like to freshen up before we eat? The powder room is just down the hall. I’ll bring in your suitcases after dinner,” he added, looking at Hope and seeking her approval at this surprise.
“I’ll just run up and make sure Shebana’s old room is all ready for your stay,” she said, frantically recalling the current condition of the room they had been using for storage since Gideon’s sister moved out.
Slipping up the stairs, Hope poked her head into Dawn’s room.
The girl was lying on her bed, still in her school clothes, listening to music on Hope’s tablet computer through earbuds.
“Dawn, I need you,” Hope said, shaking Dawn’s shoulder.
“What’s up,” she said, removing the earbuds and sitting up.
“The Millers are downstairs. Their home was broken into while they were away, and they are going to stay here tonight. We’ve got to get the spare room ready for them. Come on,” Hope said, disappearing down the hallway.
“I don’t know the Millers, do I?” Dawn asked, carrying an armload of fresh bedding into the room.
“They are the regular Youth Group sponsors. They’ve been away, that’s why I’ve been filling in, like for the camping trip. They just got back today and found their home ransacked.”
“Bummer,” Dawn commented. “How long are they going to be here?”
“As long as they need to, I guess. It’s the least we can do. Try to make them welcome at dinner, okay?” Hope said.
Dawn shrugged and nodded.
“Dinner!” Hope yelped. “I’ve got to get back down to the kitchen. Can you finish up here? Put the ironing board into the closet and slide this box of books down the hall to our room. I guess that should do it.”
Dawn laughed as Hope dashed out of the room. It was comical to see Hope, always calmly in control, so frazzled.
Dawn looked around the room, ran a cloth over the dusty bookshelf, straightened the handmade quilt on the bed, and plumped up the pillows, then walked out, sniffing the delicious aroma wafting up the stairs.
It seemed that Hope had salvaged the meal, after all.
…
Several helpings of comforting chicken stew with fluffy biscuits had their healing effect on the diners as they sat around the table, drinking coffee or tea and considering whether they had room for dessert.
Hope brought a dish of grapes and cheese slices, along with a plate of lemon bars to the table.
“Just in case,” she said with a smile, popping a grape into her mouth.
Dawn grabbed a lemon bar and slid her chair back.
“May I be excused? I’ve got homework I need to do,” she said, rolling her eyes at Hope.
“Please take our empty plates to the kitchen before you go,” Gideon said with a smile.
“It’s been good to get to know you, Dawn,” Mavis said. “I imagine we’ll see you at Youth Group on Sunday evening.”
“Sure,” Dawn replied. “Nice to meet you, too,” she added, after a look from Hope.
When Dawn was upstairs, Hope asked about the break-in.
“Do you have any idea what they were after?”
“No. We don’t have a safe full of money and diamonds, after all,” Barry said, shaking his head. “Maybe they got the wrong address.”
“We won’t know if anything is missing until we can get inside and begin to clean up the mess,” Mavis said. “We need to make a list of missing, damaged, and destroyed for the insurance.”
“We never had anything very fancy. The total loss probably won’t even hit our deductible,” Barry grumbled.
“I couldn’t have faced it tonight. Thanks so much for having us here. I’m sure we’ll be stronger after a good night’s sleep,” Mavis said.
“When I told our son what happened, he wanted us to come right back and stay with them, but this isn’t something we can avoid forever. Might just as well tackle it head-on and clean it up. No low-life crook is going to run me off my own home,” Barry said.
Gideon led them all in prayer and then he and Barry went out to the car to bring in the Miller’s luggage while Hope showed Mavis their room.
Standing in the doorway, Hope was proud of the job Dawn had done. The room looked comfortable and inviting. She was surprised Dawn had found the old quilt. It had been packed away in a trunk, but it was exactly the touch needed to make the room welcoming. That girl had great instincts.
The men brought the cases in.
“When you are ready to go home and start clearing up, let us know. We want to help,” Gideon said.
“In the meantime, consider this your home, for as long as you want,” Hope added before wishing their guests a good night and going downstairs to clean up the dinner things.
Gideon followed, putting an arm around her and pulling her close.
“You are amazing, you know that?” he whispered.
Hope just laughed and kissed him. She was beginning to think she might just be cut out for the “First Lady” job, after all.
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
Escaping to their car in the alley behind the Miller house, Beto and Dwayne jumped in and peeled out, spraying dirt and gravel behind them in their haste to leave the area.
Once across town, Beto drove into the parking lot behind an abandoned gas station on the outskirts of town.
Storming out of the car, he ran around it and wrenched the passenger door open.
“You idiot! That was the wrong house!” he screamed at Dwayne as he pulled him from the passenger seat and pushed him to the ground.
“But, but...” Dwayne sputtered as Beto stood over him, fists clenched.
“I should just kill you, now,” Beto snarled. “You’re worthless.”
“Hey, you told me to find out the name of the woman who takes kids camping from that church, and I did. Mavis Miller is who they said. And that’s where I was told she lives. You can’t blame me if people gave me the wrong info,” Dwayne said, crab-crawling on his back and getting to his feet a safe distance away from his enraged partner.
Beto snorted, then began stomping back and forth, throwing glares at Dwayne.
Getting a grip on his rage, he pulled out his phone and opened the Internet browser, looking up the phone number for Mount Zion Tabernacle.
Leaning against the trunk of the car, he punched the number, then stood up straight when his call was answered.
“Hello, can you tell me the name of the woman who took your kids camping recently?”
He listened with a grim expression as Cookie Dabis cheerfully gave him Hope’s name, adding how happy the congregation was with their new First Lady and what a great job she was doing with the youth.
Once he’d gotten the information he wanted, Beto interrupted Cookie’s flow of helpful chatter.
“She’s the pastor’s wife, you say? Uh, I thought she was someone I used to know, but I think I was given the wrong info. No, no message. Bye.”
Returning to the browser page, Beto saw that the church website also listed the pastor’s home address and phone number.
“Come here, idiot!” he commanded Dwayne, who sidled over, remaining just out of reach of his angry companion.
Beto stepped forward, grabbed the frightened man’s arm, and pulled out his knife.
“Don’t hurt me!” Dwayne squeaked, trying to jerk free.
Beto maintained his grip and using the tip of his knife, he scratched the pastor’s address into the flesh of Dwayne’s wrist.
Afraid to move, Dwayne watched the blood well up out of the shallow cuts and swayed, light-headed.
“Why’d you do that?” he whined, wiping his arm with the hem of his shirt when Beto released him.
“You’re lucky I didn’t cut your head off, you’re such a dope. Do you see how easy it was to find that address? You wasted our time and nearly got us caught with your stupidity.”
> “You never said to look it up on the Internet,” Dwayne muttered, cradling his arm and mumbling “You coulda used a pen or something.”
“Never mind. Now we have the right name and we know where the witch lives. Let’s get this over with and get out of this stupid town,” Beto said, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Dwayne got into the car and Beto pulled onto the highway, headed back toward town.
“Now, what’s the name of the street?” he asked. “Plug the directions into the phone’s GPS, so we don’t get lost tomorrow.”
Dwayne wiped the blood off his wrist and entered the address incised into his flesh.
…
The next morning, the Millers joined the Hopkins family for breakfast before going to their ransacked house to begin the clean-up. Gideon planned to join them as soon as he could, but he needed to take care of a few thing at the church first.
Hope was going to spend the day helping the Millers. She dressed in grubbies for the dirty work and trotted downstairs, calling out as she went.
“Hurry up, Dawn. You don’t want to be late for school!”
Dawn clomped down the stairs, struggling to pull on a new cardigan without dropping her book bag.
“Here, let me help,” Hope said, taking the bag.
“Thanks,” Dawn said, buttoning her pale green sweater against the morning chill.
The late fall morning was misty and cool, a harbinger of the winter weather to come.
“Can I come and help you guys after school? Or, hey! I could get out early if you really need me,” Dawn offered as Hope locked the front door behind them.
“That’s very generous of you,” Hope chuckled. “I think we can manage without such a sacrifice. If things are still a mess by the time school’s out, I’ll come to pick you up, though. Thanks for offering to help. I’m sure the Millers will appreciate it.”
“They seem nice,” Dawn said, sliding into the car and buckling up.
…
A few houses down the street, Beto and Dwayne were sitting in their car, watching. They’d had trouble following the directions on the map app on Dwayne’s phone and arrived after Gideon and the Millers were already gone.
“That’s her!” Dwayne blurted. “And she’s got that girl with her. The one who jumped you.”
“Shut up! Keep your voice down,” Beto growled, starting the car. “This neighborhood is too open. We’ll tail them until we find a better spot.”
Dwayne was jittering in the passenger seat in his eagerness to settle the score with the two women and redeem himself in Beto’s eyes.
Although it was the woman they were after, Beto would never let a stupid teenager get away with humiliating him as she’d done at the trailhead.
“At least that big black guy isn’t going to come to their rescue this time. It’s his fault we didn’t take care of these two before,” Dwayne said, referring to Gideon.
…
Hope drove through the early morning traffic, Bannoch’s version of a rush hour, arriving at Dawn’s school just as the first bell pealed.
“Have you got everything?” she asked as Dawn opened the car door.
“Yep,” Dawn said, and she hopped out of the car, just as Colton swaggered up.
He bent down to speak through the open door, saying, “Good morning, Mrs. Hopkins, karate-chopped any bad guys, lately?”
“Good morning, Colton,” Hope replied with a wry grin. “I’ve got my hands full dealing with sassy teenage boys, right now.”
“Sassy? Me?” he asked, wide-eyed.
“Come on, we’ll be late,” Dawn said, tugging at the boy’s arm.
“See you, Mrs. H.!” Colton said, taking Dawn’s book bag and walking with her into the school.
Hope was happy to see Dawn being so well-accepted, but she thought she’d better keep an eye on what appeared to be a budding romance.
With her mind occupied by thoughts of her new mother-of-a-teenager responsibilities, Hope didn’t notice the compact car keeping pace with her on the drive to the Millers’ home.
When Dwayne saw Hope park at the Millers’ and go inside, he turned excitedly to Beto.
“See! I wasn’t so dumb. Those old folks who live here probably work with the church kids, too. It was an honest mistake,” he said.
“A mistake’s a mistake,” Beto yelled. “And I’m sick of your mistakes! I’m sick of this whole scene,” he added, reaching across Dwayne and grabbing the gun from the glove compartment.
Dwayne cringed away from his angry partner.
“What are you doing?” he cried.
“What I shoulda done a long time ago,” Beto said.
…
Inside the house, Hope found her discouraged friends going through their mangled possessions.
Mavis wandered from room to room, sadly shaking her head.
Barry had been snapping photos with his phone for the insurance claim.
“I think I got pictures of everything,” he said as Hope entered the chaotic living room. “It’s hard to tell in all the mess, though.”
Hearing his voice, Mavis came from their bedroom. She held a broken picture frame in her hand.
“They’ve even taken Grandmother’s pillowslips,” she announced. “The ones she embroidered and gave to us for our wedding.”
Barry stepped over, took the empty frame from her hands and pulled his wife into his arms.
“It’s the little things that get to you,” he said to Hope as Mavis sobbed.
Mavis patted Barry’s shoulder and straightened up, wiping her eyes.
“Would you like coffee, Hope? Or maybe tea, if the housebreakers left us a teapot. I haven’t tried to use the coffee maker, yet. It may have been broken when it was knocked over,” she said.
“Nothing for me, thanks. Look, you have enough to do documenting your loss. Let me tackle the kitchen and then I can start hauling the broken things out to the trashcans in the alley,” Hope offered, going into the kitchen without waiting for a reply from the distraught couple.
Incredibly, the kitchen appliances appeared to have been spared. Once the mess of upturned canisters and ransacked cupboards was cleaned up, the Millers should be able to use their kitchen.
As she worked, Hope made a shopping list of items they’d need to restock the pantry.
She pulled a heavy-duty trash bag from the box she’d brought with her and began filling it with broken crockery and no longer viable foodstuffs. She needed to clear the floor and counters before she could begin to scrub them down. Hope didn’t want to leave anything to remind Mavis of this violation of her home.
…
From their location on the roadside, Beto and Dwayne saw the top of Hope’s head as she went through the back gate into the alley to deposit her first load of trash.
“You see that? She’s helping clean up. I’ll bet she’ll need to make more than one trip into that alley,” Beto said, opening his door.
“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, relieved that both Beto and the gun were leaving the car.
“I’m going into the alley. You be ready to pick me up as soon as you hear the shot. When she comes outside again, I’m going to pop her, so we can finish this job and get outta here.”
“Are you sure you need to kill her?” Dwayne asked, flinching away from Beto’s glare in response. “I mean, she’s a church lady. It doesn’t make sense. Why would she steal the money and drugs?”
“Don’t be stupid! We found that shirt at the cemetery, remember? And what kinda church lady can fight like she did? This church stuff is probably just a cover,” Beto declared. “And the boss wants her punished, so that’s that.”
Beto crouched down and hurried across the road to the alley entrance, then proceeded to find a good line of sight for shooting Hope the next time she approached the garbage cans.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dwayne moaned, sliding into the driver’s seat to listen for a shot.
He’d never thought much about
the harm done by his drug sales. Anyone stupid enough to use drugs got what they deserved, as far as he was concerned. But, killing a woman like this, and a pastor’s wife, without any real proof she even took their stuff, just didn’t sit well with him.
Dwayne felt sick to his stomach as he waited, ears pricked for the dreaded sound.
He was startled when a car swept past him and parked in front of the Miller house behind Hope’s Jeep.
Dwayne had seen that car before.
When Gideon got out, he remembered exactly where he’d seen it.
“That’s the big guy who broke Beto’s arm,” he muttered. “This is bad.”
With only a moment’s hesitation, he started the car and stomped on the gas.
Dwayne was never the brightest kid in his class, but he knew that Beto wanted to kill him, too. This whole situation was so much more than he’d ever bargained for.
He drove toward his apartment, fully intent on packing up and getting as far away as could from Beto and his bosses in the drug trade.
…
Crouched down behind a recycle bin, Beto heard Gideon’s car arrive followed by the sound of another car almost immediately roaring off.
He crept back to the road in time to see Dwayne drive away.
What the...?
Beto grabbed his phone and hit Dwayne’s number. The phone rang several times before going to voice mail. Beto redialed and this time the phone went immediately to the message, as if it had been turned off.
Beto couldn’t believe it. Dwayne was running away leaving him high and dry.
“When I get my hands on that slimy little creep, he’ll pay for this,” Beto promised himself, imagining all the ways he would drag out the torture before finishing Dwayne off for good.
The Millers’ back gate opened. Hearing it, he swung around in time to see Hope stuff another trash bag into the bin.
He took aim and then hesitated.
How could he get away on foot after a loud gunshot alerted everyone?
Still determined to finish Hope off, despite Dwayne’s treachery, Beto decided he needed to change his plan. This kill needed to be silent.
He pulled out his knife and began honing it on his thigh.