Shattered Justice

by Karen Ball

They moved to look through the windows. What Dan saw made his heart plunge. A raging man, gun in one hand, large glass vase in the other, screaming at a woman cowering against the wall. Even from the doors Dan could see her face was bruised, bleeding.

  “Domestic.”

  Dan nodded. Domestic disturbance. Lord, help us. Why couldn’t it have been a simple armed robbery? Crooks you could reason with, most of the time. But domestics? No way. People in these situations were flat nuts.

  And dangerous.

  Steve held a hand in the air then counted down with his fingers. Three … two … one … go!

  They burst through the double doors. “Police! Freeze!”

  The guy was so far gone, he didn’t even hear them. He just kept screaming at the terrified woman. He threw the vase at her, and she pulled herself into a ball as it hit the concrete floor next to her, glass shards going everywhere.

  The man was on her, grabbing her by the hair, jerking her to her feet. “I told you what I’d do to you if you ever saw him again, you stupid—”

  “Police!” Steve’s bellow practically shook the walls. “Freeze!”

  The guy heard that. He’d have to be dead not to. He spun to face them, the weeping woman in one meaty paw, the gun in the other. “This ain’t none of your business.”

  Steve and Dan inched closer, keeping their guns trained on the man. “You made it our business, pal, when you shot that gun off.”

  He shook the woman. “This is my store.”

  “Drop the gun.” Dan kept his voice low and even.

  “I got a permit for this gun—”

  “Drop it! Now!”

  He wavered. The gun started to lower.

  The woman’s trembling hands clawed at her hair, trying to pry her captor’s fingers loose.

  Stop! Dan tried to catch her eye. But it was too late.

  “Jimmy—” her broken words came out on a sob—“do what they say, baby—”

  Her voice was like gas on a sputtering flame. Jimmy spun, slamming the gun into her face. “Shut up!”

  “Drop the gun, Jimmy. Now!”

  Steve managed to keep his voice steady, but Dan knew his partner felt the same thing he did: Time was running out.

  As though he sensed it too, Jimmy jerked the battered woman in front of him, clamping an arm around her neck as he pinned her against him—and pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple.

  Shock sent Dan reeling as he realized the woman was pregnant. Oh, Lord … please … “Come on, Jimmy. Don’t do this.”

  Jimmy pressed his cheek against the top of the woman’s head, all but spitting his fury at her. “See what you did, Shelia? See what your whoring around got you?”

  Desperation glistened in the woman’s eyes as she looked at Dan. Her hands moved over her slightly swollen abdomen, as though to protect the child within her from what was happening. Terror held her mute, except for a pitiful whimper.

  God, please! Stop this guy! You can stop him …

  “Drop. The gun.” There was steel in Steve’s tone. If anyone could take this guy out, even hunkering behind his hostage, it was Steve. All he’d need was one opening.

  And as much as Dan didn’t want to see anyone die, he’d do everything he could to give Steve that opening.

  Father God, give me the words. Help me save this woman. His fingers tensed on his gun. This baby.

  He forced a friendly note into his voice. “Come on, Jimmy. It’s not worth it.”

  At the change in Dan’s tone, the man’s brow crinkled.

  Dan dipped his head toward Sheila. “She’s not worth it. No woman is worth dying over, man.” Should he mention the baby? Appeal to him for the baby’s life?

  “She betrayed me!”

  Dan licked his dry lips. No. Keep his attention away from the baby. Too much risk. If he thought the child wasn’t his … “I hear you. But she’s a woman. You know how weak they are.” He took one step forward. “They’re not like us, you know? Not strong.”

  “She’ll see how strong I am now.”

  Dan had to struggle to keep the anger out of his tone. “That’s right.”

  “Strong enough to make her pay.”

  “Sure. Make her pay. Let her see what she lost.” He forced a chuckle, amazed when it sounded authentic. “She had a real man with you, and she blew it. She doesn’t deserve you.”

  “You better believe she doesn’t deserve me.” His tone hardened. “Or my baby.”

  Dan’s heart sank. No escaping it now. “That’s right. Your baby. Forget Sheila. She’s nothing. But that baby, man. You gotta get it. Raise it right.”

  Jimmy’s lip trembled. “No way they’ll let me near it now.”

  Dan’s mind scrambled to interpret. “Who? The courts?”

  “They hear what I did, they’ll put me away.”

  Bingo. “Nah, they’ll understand. They’re men, too. They know what it’s like. They’ll see you’re a good man, and you’ll be a good dad.”

  Sirens sounded just outside. Backup was here. “Hear those sirens, Jimmy?”

  The man listened.

  “There’s an ambulance outside. They can check Sheila out. Make sure the baby’s okay. Just let her go, Jimmy. Let’s walk out of here together, and I’ll tell ’em you were a stand-up guy when it counted.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw Steve moving, angling for a shot. Dan shifted so that Jimmy had to turn his head away from Steve.

  “I tried.” Jimmy moved the gun away from Sheila’s temple, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I tried to be a man. Tried to make her love me.”

  “Sure you did. You did everything you could.”

  “I thought she loved me.” Jimmy ground his teeth, shaking Sheila. “You said you loved me!”

  Dan jumped in. “So she lied. What woman doesn’t li—?”

  “You said you loved me!”

  The anguished wail in Jimmy’s voice sent a chill ripping through Dan. “Steve! Now!”

  But even as Dan cried out, he knew.

  It was too late.

  The next few seconds seemed to take an eternity to pass. In simultaneous motions, Jimmy pressed the gun against Sheila’s temple, his finger convulsing on the trigger, and Steve took his shot. The two explosions mixed, as violent an assault on Dan’s senses as what he saw in front of him.

  Sheila’s head jerking. Red everywhere. Her body going limp. Falling.

  Jimmy’s cry as the bullet struck him. His hands grasping for Sheila as he fell. Her name the word that ushered life from his body.

  And then … silence.

  Cold, barren silence.

  Dan lowered his gun and went to feel for a pulse at Sheila’s neck. But it was no use. She was gone.

  The double doors burst open as police and paramedics came in. Dan moved out of the way, watching as they went to work. A touch on his shoulder drew his attention, and he saw a somber-faced Steve standing beside him.

  “You did your best, Dan.”

  He looked to the woman on the cold, concrete floor. Too bad his best wasn’t good enough.

  The paramedics shook their heads.

  “The baby?”

  One of the paramedics looked up at Dan’s hoarse inquiry. His eyes said it all. “The mother wasn’t far enough along. Baby didn’t have a chance.”

  Dan swallowed hard.

  “Let it go, partner.”

  Dan met Steve’s gaze.

  “We can’t save them all, Dan.”

  He was right. But that truth didn’t do much to stop the aching knowledge, deep inside, that Dan should have been able to save this one.

  They were the most beautiful eyes Dan had ever seen.

  Deep, endless blue. Wide open and taking everything in.

  Sarah had told him they probably wouldn’t stay blue. And as beautiful as they were, Dan hoped his wife was right. Hoped this little one’s eyes would take on the rich brown of her mother’s eyes.

  The baby gurgled, and Dan’s heart ached. For a m
oment, the image of Sheila lying lifeless on the floor—of another infant, one who never had the chance to live—haunted him.

  He’d barely gotten back to the cruiser when his pager went off. Steve drove him to the hospital in record time, red lights flashing, siren blaring. Just before Dan hopped out of the car, Steve offered this bit of wisdom: “You can’t let the loss get to you, partner. Go be with your wife and your new baby. Focus on life. Let death take care of itself.”

  Focus on life.

  He was trying. He traced a finger down the baby’s soft temple. “So what’s it like, kiddo? Being born? There you were, all safe and warm in Mom’s tummy, then bam! You’re shoved out into reality.”

  Reality. Cold. Dismal. A world where women love the wrong men. Where children die before they have the chance to live. Where no amount of prayer can change some people’s hearts.

  No wonder babies screamed when they were born.

  Stop it. Stop thinking about it.

  Sarah was still deep asleep. Well, she deserved it. She’d worked hard. And her work had produced a miracle. That’s what he needed to think about now. The tiny miracle in his arms.

  Dan cupped his daughter’s head, leaning close and drawing a deep breath, savoring the sweet fragrance of new life.

  His daughter. A tiny gift from God.

  Lord, please, help me keep her safe. Help me keep them all safe. Sarah. Our little boy, Aaron. They’re in Your hands, I know. But sometimes, Father … sometimes I get so afraid.

  Dan closed his eyes, unable to stop the images of Sheila. Jimmy. The paramedics shaking their heads. “Baby didn’t have a chance.”

  He cradled his infant close, felt tears slip down his cheeks. “Oh, Father, why the baby?”

  Deep within him, a battle raged as despair grabbed hope by the neck and wrestled it to the ground. Pinned it. Fear rammed into peace and joy, shaking them from what Dan had always believed was rock-solid footing.

  Jesus, Jesus …

  The name was a prayer from the depths of his spirit.

  Please, take these images away. Help me keep my eyes on You, Lord, not on the world. Help me …

  The tiniest sound caught at him, and he opened his eyes, looking down. His new daughter gurgled again, bubbles of baby laughter on her pink lips. Her wobbly head moved, and she looked right at him—Dan was sure of it—and smiled.

  Trapped under that blue gaze, Dan felt the battle within ease. Hope rose from the ground, brushed itself off, and raised its arms to the heavens.

  Tears choked Dan again, but this time they held the sweet taste of gratitude. No, he couldn’t help Sheila or her little one. But he could do everything in his power to ensure this tiny creature in his arms had a chance.

  More than that. He’d ensure she had a life full of love and faith and truth.

  Who is this child, Father? What shall we call her? Dan sighed, watching the baby blink as his breath caressed her face. What’s your name, little girl?

  He listened to the silence, drank in the peace that had settled over them. Leaning back in the rocker, he hummed.

  At the sound of his voice, the baby’s tiny hand came up, those perfect fingers reaching toward him.

  Dan smiled. “You like that song? I do, too. You know, my momma used to sing it to me.” He started singing it softly, letting the lyrics wash over them with their promise.

  “Be not dismayed whate’er betide,

  God will take care of you …”

  He lifted the soft baby blanket from the arm of the chair and tucked it around his daughter.

  “Beneath His wings of love abide,

  God will take care of you.”

  Dan smoothed the soft hair. The nurses couldn’t get over so much hair on a newborn.

  “God will take care of you,

  Through every day, o’er all the way;

  He will take care of you,

  God will take care of you.”

  His words slowed. It was as though a choir of amens resounded in the heavens, washing down over the two of them. Awe shivered up Dan’s spine as a certainty dawned in his heart.

  God would take care of this child.

  Of course, God watched out for all of them. For him and Sarah; for Aaron, their toddler son. But Dan had a powerful sense that she was special.

  That God had given this little girl a special touch of … of …

  He studied that little puckered face.

  Wisdom. There was an almost ageless wisdom in those wide eyes. He cupped his daughter’s face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Now there’s a picture I’ll always remember.”

  Dan turned his head and smiled. “Hi, Mommy.”

  “So—” Sarah yawned—“any closer to a name for the little angel?”

  “Funny you should ask. I do have an idea. Sort of.”

  Sarah pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Did you bring the names with you?”

  “You think I’d dare come without them?” He pulled a fat envelope from his coat pocket and upended it on the bed. A pile of napkins tumbled out.

  Sarah looked down at them. “You’re sure your mom did it this way, huh?”

  “And her mother before her. And her mother before her. ‘Dedicate a baby to God—’ ”

  “ ‘—through a name chosen by focused prayer—’ ” Sarah finished the familiar family credo for him—“ ‘that He may make Himself known in every aspect of that child’s life.’ ” She held her hands up. “Okay, okay. Far be it from me to break with tradition. So, where were we?”

  Dan peered over the baby’s head at the napkins from Sarah’s baby shower. Prior to the shower, his mother had asked all those attending to come with a baby name, complete with the meaning of the name. They wrote them down on the baby shower napkins, then gave them to Sarah before she left.

  “You do remember how this almost ended for you, don’t you?”

  Dan looked at his wife. “I assume you’re talking about when my parents named me?”

  “Well, they did name you Justice.” The teasing glimmer in her eyes made him grin. “Justice Justice, now there’s a name!”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what happened, and you know it, minx.”

  He’d heard the story over and over. How his mother and father had sorted through the name napkins from their baby shower. How his mother said to his father, “Wasn’t there a name that had something to do with justice?”

  Dan’s father loved this part. “I stared at her like she was just this side of nuts and said, ‘You think God is calling you to name our son Justice Justice?’ ”

  “And I said,” his mother always added, “ ‘Of course not. But what was the name?’ ”

  They looked through the napkins, then pulled one free. The name Avidan meant “God is just.”

  “I looked down at the sleeping baby in my arms,” Dan’s mother said, “and knew. It was perfect. Avidan.”

  His father’s agreement never wavered. “A strong name for a strong man. We knew that’s what our son would be. Strong of body, heart, and spirit. And we were right.”

  His parents were something else. Dan prayed he was as good a parent to his little ones. He plucked one of the napkins. “Here, this is it.”

  Sarah took the napkin and read it out loud. “Shannon. Wise one.”

  “Exactly.” Dan cuddled the baby.

  There was such tenderness in the curve of Sarah’s mouth. She laid a hand on his arm. “I like it. A lot.”

  Dan passed the baby to Sarah. Then he sat on the side of the bed and slid his arm around his wife and daughter. “Welcome to the world, Shannon.” He hugged Sarah close. “You’re going to love it here.”

  And as he gazed down into that face, Dan made a vow. He’d do his best to ensure that was true. To protect and shelter his wife, his children. To make their lives as happy and blessed as possible.

  Your best? Better hope it’s more effective than it was today.

  Dan pushed the dark thought aside.

&nbs
p; It would be. He’d make sure of it. Whatever it took, he’d make it happen.

  Or his name wasn’t Avidan Timothy Justice.

  TWO

  “We often think of great faith as something that happens

  spontaneously … used for a miracle or healing.

  However, the greatest faith of all, and the most effective,

  is to live day by day trusting Him.”

  RICK JOYNER

  “I will light in your heart the lamp of understanding, which shall not be put out.”

  4 EZRA 14:25, APOCRYHA

  TEN YEARS LATER

  “I STILL DON’T SEE WHY WE CAN’T GO WITH YOU.”

  Dan looked up from where he was double-checking his day pack to his daughter. Or what he could see of her from behind the family room couch, where she was sprawled. One hand and one foot lay along the back of the couch, and Dan could just see the top of Shannon’s head.

  Sarah often said their little girl didn’t have any bones in her body, and from the way she was lying there now, kind of like one of the throws draped over the back of the couch, Dan figured his wife was right.

  Shannon popped her gum, her hand waving. “Well, okay, I understand why you don’t want Aaron to go, but me? Why can’t I come?”

  “Shannon …”

  She peered at him over the back of the couch. “I mean, it’s not like you and Mom don’t go out together all the time just the two of you. Man. You’d think you guys were still dating or somethin’.”

  “Parents dating? Heaven forbid.” He didn’t even try to keep the chuckle from his tone.

  She pushed up to her knees and hung over the back of the couch, hands folded in entreaty. “C’mon, Daddy. Let me go with you.”

  “Shannon.”

  “You said I’m old enough to start learning how to shoot.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “And you will.”

  She grinned.

  “Just not tomorrow.”

  Her grin dissolved and a pout took its place. “You’re so mean.”

  Dan arched a brow at that but kept his tone pleasant. “Yeah, that’s me. Mean ol’ Dad. I mean, wow. I hardly ever spend time with you and Aaron. Just one night a week for family movies, and then there’s that dumb reading thing we do with the Chronicles of Narnia a couple times a week. Oh, and band concerts and parades and gymnastics …” He closed the day pack. “Yessiree. Mean as they come. That’s me.”