by Vicki Hinze
Near the front pew, he dropped down on the red-padded kneeler, folded his hands, and lowered his head, eager to lose himself in prayer.
Later, awareness tugged at him. He shoved it away but it persisted. He paused, listened. A scuffle outside the big doors, a muffled voice. The woman who’d greeted him.
He rushed to the doors, shoved, and pushed through.
She lay motionless on the floor.
Joe scanned, saw no one, then rushed over to her. Breathing. He gently turned her head to see her face. Her mouth was bleeding. Someone had punched her in the mouth. Her braces had sliced her flesh. Anger exploded inside him.
Something in his periphery flashed. He ducked, turned, and saw a masked man with a gun aiming for his head. His training kicked in; he swiped with his leg and knocked the man off his feet. The gun flew from his hand, and Joe attacked.
They fought hard. The man was no novice. He was a pro, as trained as Joe. “NINA.”
“Phoenix,” the man spat. “Know the man who kills you.”
“In a church?” Joe crowded him, let fly a series of rabbit punches.
“Wood and nails are for fools. I believe in me.”
Phoenix parried, landed a right jab to Joe’s ribs that stole his breath. He doubled back with a hard left hook that lifted the guy off his feet and shot pain up Joe’s arm to his shoulder.
A gunshot fired.
Joe went down and they fought no more …
15
Sara, it’s time.”
From the swing facing the cove, she looked up at Beth. “I don’t want to go.”
Beth didn’t either. “It’s one of those have-to-do things.”
Sara rocked the swing harder. “It’ll be easier for you.”
“Nothing that hurts you is easy for me.”
“I didn’t say easy. I said easier.”
“Well, of course.” Beth shrugged. “He was your husband. But you’ll get through it.”
Sara choked on a low, mewling sound. “I don’t want to get through it. I—I can’t stand all that could come now—and I don’t want you to have to stand it either.”
Fear crept through Beth. The warning. The hospital visits. Sara holding back on what she knew about Robert’s abduction and murder. “Grief is hard.”
“This time is different.” Sara stared at a flag on the back end of the docked boat. Wind-teased, it unfurled. “Things could happen.” She looked back at Beth. “And hurt in new ways.”
“I expect it will hurt in new ways. You haven’t lost a husband before.” Was she telling Beth the truth or just seeing grief differently? “But the very thing that makes you dread this is your weapon to get through it, Sara. You know something grief rookies don’t. Survival is possible. That’s half the battle, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” Sara thought a second, sniffed, then dried her eyes. “When my parents died, I wasn’t sure a body could hold that much pain and live. But I did.”
So this was about grief and not revealing secrets. Beth bit back her disappointment. The delay was best for Sara. She had plenty on her shoulders today. “And you will again.”
“Knowing you’ll live through it should help. But when you’re so deep in the grief abyss, it doesn’t. All you can think is, what’s the difference?”
Beth remembered those terrifying days. The hopelessness, the seeing no value or sense in living or in life. The bleak emptiness—oh, that awful, awful bleak emptiness—so strong and powerful and consuming it gnawed at the marrow of your bones and made everything seem insignificant. It had sorely tested Beth’s soul.
When you’re in the abyss and nothing matters, there aren’t any tools to help you crawl out. It’s scratch and claw every inch of the way—until you turn to God. Beth had, and finally so had Sara. It was hard enough to get out of that dark place with Him, but without Him? “I don’t pray anymore.” How would Sara make it?
“You know the difference. There’s a lot of good life on the other side of grief.”
Fear burned in Sara’s eyes. “What if it’s not just grief? What if other things are there too and it’s too much? What if I can’t do it again? What if I used all my strength the first time and I’m too weak to crawl out, Beth?”
“Then God will carry you out. He promised you’d never be given more than you could handle.”
Sara rolled her eyes. She didn’t want truth; she wanted Beth’s assurance.
“Okay, look. I don’t believe you can get in that deep. If you could, no one would ever say ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ But if it is possible, then I’ll stand in for you until you can take it on yourself. We’ll get you through this.”
Sara put her sunglasses back on, masking her eyes. “Even if it hurts you?”
Beth wished she’d left the glasses off. “Even then.”
“Because you’re my family.” Sara’s chin trembled.
Beth put a lilt in her voice. “You know the code.”
“Whatever, whenever.” Sara let out a shaky breath. “Thank God for the southern woman’s take on family.” She hugged Beth hard. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry we’ve been at odds.”
“We’re fine.” Beth pulled back and looked into Sara’s face. “We’ll do what we have to do, Sara.” She squeezed their clasped hands. “You’ll be okay.”
“I’d be lost without you.” Sara stood, looped their arms, and took the first step toward the house.
“Me too,” Beth confessed, certain now there had been times that even with her and the family Sara had felt lost.
Why was Sara shutting out her faith when she most needed it? What could be so bad it made her feel that unworthy? No one was worthy. Grace paved the way, and Sara knew it. So knowing she wasn’t strong enough to walk alone, why turn her back? It defied reason.
At the back door, Sara sniffled. The tip of her nose was red. “Do you have my inhaler?”
“Yeah.” Beth passed it over.
Sara tucked it in her handbag. “Don’t worry. I asked for it because you’ll be more at ease if I take it. I’m not going to need it.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. I’m through worrying you.” Sara tucked the crumpled tissue into her purse, then snapped it closed. “It’s a new day. I’m going to deal with it without any more attacks.”
What had gotten into her? Whatever it was, Beth hoped it took root. “Glad to hear it. I know I’m too protective and it gets on your nerves at times—”
“You promised my parents you’d look after me. That makes you mother and sister and friend.” Sara tapped Beth’s arm. “All that caring gives you lots of leeway with me.”
Beth never had told Sara about that promise. “How did you know—?”
“I know my mother and I know you. It was a given.” Sara’s smile was faint. “Listen, I know I’m fragile, especially compared to you, and my health issues scare you silly. I also know you’d like to slap me now and then and tell me to grow a backbone—and you would, but southern women just don’t do that.” Sara’s eyes twinkled. “You’re the consummate nurturer, Beth, and even when you disagree with me, you’re supportive. Don’t think I don’t know how hard that is for you at times.”
Beth stared at her, slack jawed. “Where’s Sara? What’s going on? This isn’t you.”
“Oh, but it is me. I’m just not hiding anymore. As close as we are, there are things about me you don’t know. Things at work in all this—but I won’t tell you what because I don’t want you to know. Not because you’ll judge me. I just want them kept private—and I don’t want to talk about why either.” Sara’s face flushed. “If I act weird, keep your distance and trust me, okay?”
Given little choice, Beth nodded. “At least tell me what the hospital visits were for. Are you really sick?”
“I’m not sick.” Resolve slid over her face, masking her expression. “What happened to me will never happen again and that’s all I have to sa
y. Please, don’t ask about that again. It’s over, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.” Sara blinked hard. “Now, let’s get this funeral over with.”
At the kitchen door, Sara grabbed the knob, then paused. “One more thing.” She looked Beth straight in the eye. “When the funeral is over, I want you to go home and stay away from me for a while.”
“What?” Inside, Beth reeled.
“I want time to myself to heal. I have to stand on my own. If you’re around, I won’t. I should have done this a long time ago.”
“But, Sara, the next couple months will be hard—”
“Yes, and if you’re around they’ll be harder. You’ll want to fix everything, and I’ll let you. That might be what I want but it’s not what I need.”
“Did you talk to Nora about this?”
“I talked to me about it.”
“Okay.” Beth felt deflated. Betrayed and deflated, though she shouldn’t feel either. She couldn’t wrap her mind around this. Medical secrets, cryptic warnings, admissions of being in trouble Beth couldn’t help with, shunning God, and now banning her. Just how much jeopardy was Sara in? With whom? And for what? This was about more than any Quantico and NINA connection. This was intensely personal … somehow.
Peggy met them inside the back door. One look at her pale face and Beth braced for bad news. “What’s happened now?”
“Kyle called from headquarters,” Peggy said. “Jeff wants us to stay here until he calls back.”
Beth lifted a hand. Sara was ready so naturally the world was not. God, could we please catch a break here? “But everyone will be at the cemetery.”
Peggy’s chunky white necklace heaved against her navy dress. “No, they won’t. Mark and Jeff found something out there. Something … dangerous.”
“Another NINA-type something?” Beth whispered.
“Kyle didn’t say, but they’ve requested a Hazmat team.”
“Oh no.” Sara’s hands went to her throat. “It’s begun.”
“What’s begun?” Beth grabbed Sara’s arm. “Enough of this. It’s NINA, Sara. Others are at risk. Tell me what’s going on right now.”
Wild-eyed, Sara gasped and fell into a full faint.
“Joe, answer your stupid phone,” Beth told his voice mail, angry and not bothering to hide it. Glaring at the water, she plunked down on Sara’s backyard porch swing. “I’m in crisis here. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it’s a crisis—and I trusted you. You said you cared. Well, prove it. Call me.”
She waited, and waited, but he didn’t call.
“So much for counting on you.”
Harvey and Lisa were in with Sara. She didn’t want Beth around, but she asked for Nora. Unfortunately she wasn’t answering her phone either. Beyond odd, that. Where was Nathara?
“Beth?” Peggy walked into view. The stiff breeze tugged at the hem of her navy dress. “Lisa says Sara’s okay. No attack.”
“Good.” Beth let out a staggered breath. “Is she talking?”
“Yes, but she’s not saying anything we want to hear. For some reason, she’s clammed up on anything but her medical condition. Do you have any idea why?”
“None.” Plenty of suspicions, but nothing she could share. Weary from the soul out, Beth swiped at her eyes. “Peggy, do you know what’s happening with the funeral site?”
“No, I don’t.” Her expression sobered even more. “But it’s bad or Mark wouldn’t have called Roxy to the cemetery.”
FBI involved again. Not a good sign. “Have you heard from Nora? I can’t reach her.”
“Nathara and Tack Grady are here, but Nora isn’t. She wanted some time alone.”
“Did Nathara say why?”
“Not really. But you know Nathara. She thinks grief lasts five minutes and it’s done. Nora probably needs a break from her.”
No doubt. “But she’s not answering her phone.” Nora never ignored Beth’s calls. An uneasy feeling nagged at her. “I’m going to check on her.”
“She’s probably just worn out with all this coming on the heels of Clyde’s passing.”
“No.” Beth stood. “It’s more. I feel it, Peg. No matter what she’s doing or where she is or what time it is, when I call, Nora answers. Something’s wrong.”
“I’ll ride with you. If something’s wrong, you shouldn’t go alone.”
Beth considered it. “No, you’d better play sentry for Sara. If Nathara or one of Robert’s friends gets around her right now, it could get ugly. But if you could get the prayer warriors busy on Sara, I’d appreciate it.”
“They’ve been praying for her since this started.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “She told me she couldn’t pray, Peg. Not that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t. I said I would until she felt she could, but I don’t think she believes she’s ever going to have the right to pray again.”
“Sara said that?”
“No, but I felt it. If you’d been there, you’d know what I mean.” Beth blinked hard. To go through tragedy alone … without God … it was too painful to bear.
“Whatever her trouble is, to have her feeling that way when she knows sure as certain it isn’t so seems odd to me. Grace—”
“Exactly.” Lavender scent. Beth glanced over and spotted the flowers.
Peggy frowned. “I’ll call Annie and Miranda Kent right away. This requires more.”
“Thanks.” An urgency about Nora that Beth didn’t understand flooded her. She rushed into the kitchen and snagged her purse. “Don’t tell anyone where I’ve gone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The special phone vibrated at Joe’s hip. Omega One.
Joe pulled off Highway 98 and onto the shoulder. Traffic noise was still too high. He whipped into a parking lot between two cars and answered the incoming phone call. “What’s up?”
“Secure?”
He checked the cars parked nearby—empty—and no one was close on foot. “Yeah.” The sun streaked down on his back.
“We intercepted an interesting conversation you need to hear. The voice is altered, but the content is of extreme interest.”
“Play it.”
“Stand by one.” A pause, and then, “Here you go.”
“Phoenix, this is Raven.”
“Mission?”
“Dead Game,” she said. “Code?”
“A72777,” Phoenix said.
“Verified. I just received a kill order with instructions that you’re to handle it yourself.”
“Who is the subject?”
“A former Shadow Watcher. Joe alias Thomas Boudin.”
“But the plan … I thought he—”
“The plan has changed and he is expendable—the sooner the better. This order comes from our European associate.”
“All right.”
“Be careful, Phoenix.”
“I’m aware of his special skills.”
“You’ll enjoy this, I know. Do I need to worry that your personal pleasure will outweigh your professionalism?”
“Absolutely not. You know I never get emotionally involved.”
“Counting on that.” She sighed. “Execute the order immediately.”
The tape ended. Joe swallowed hard.
“Did you get it all?” Omega One asked.
“Yeah, I got it.” Not surprised, but knowing you had a contract out on you and hearing it was two different things. “They’ve already made one attempt. I was in a church. The man said he was Phoenix.”
“Fatalities?”
“No. He punched a woman, we fought, and he dropped his gun. She found it. Fired at the ceiling and he took off. I was getting some distance before reporting it.” Joe gave Omega One a description of the man and his car, fed in other details, then stopped.
“Okay, then,” Omega One said. “Keep your gun close and powder dry.”
“Will do. Appreciate the cover.”
“We’re doing all we can, but you know who you’re dealing with. Watch your back.”
“Always.”
Joe stuffed the phone in his pocket, cranked up his motorcycle, and took off.
Leaving Sara’s house by the back door, Beth fished out her keys and headed for her car. When she stepped into the street, a man called out from behind her. “Beth! Beth, wait!”
Her heart beat hard and fast. She stopped and turned around. Thomas Boudin jogged toward her. Joe. His hair was darker, inky black and absent of gloss. She met him halfway, rushed into his arms.
Surprised by the contact, he stiffened. “Are—are you all right?”
Still unwilling to reveal himself. “No. I’m not all right. Where’ve you been? I’ve called and called—”
“You got my message?”
“No. Why haven’t you taken my calls?”
“I came as soon as I could.”
NINA? Beth looked up at him. “Sara’s banned me from being around her—something is wickedly wrong, and she’s trying to protect me … I think. I know she’s in trouble, but she won’t tell me a thing.”
He looked around. “But you think … what?”
“I think someone in NINA has been pressuring Sara for information. She won’t touch a Quantico file. She told Margaret to send everything from them directly to me and not to tell her a thing about hearing from them.”
“Did she have a dispute with someone there or something?”
“No. The only thing that makes sense is she doesn’t want to know because what she doesn’t know she can’t tell.”
“What exactly do you and Sara do at Quantico? I’m assuming it’s computer related.”
“I can’t say.”
“Information-type computer work?”
She didn’t answer.
“That’s our club-attack connection. The missing groom is Robert.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you on the phone.”
“I’m sorry.” He stroked her face, dropped a tender kiss to her lips. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“Kiss me again and I’ll forgive you.”