“How did you get my address?”
“You wrote it down on the business card you gave me.” Connie picked up a pillow off the couch. “What is this?”
Hewitt grabbed it out of her hands. “Don’t touch or move anything.”
“Okay.”
Hewitt went into the kitchen, placing the pillow on the table. “I’d offer you something, but I just dumped whatever wine that was left into the sink.”
“Good for you,” she said, joining him at the table. “There’s been far too much drinking lately anyway. How are you holding up?”
Hewitt gave her a puzzled look. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Anyone who has gone through what you have in the last few years has to be hurting.”
“I see you’ve been busy on the Internet.”
“The Internet helps.”
“I’m fine.”
Connie shook her head. “I know what fine looks like. Behind that tough FBI macho-man exterior is a heart that’s bleeding. You’re human like the rest of us.”
“We don’t bleed,” Hewitt said with a glare. He poured himself a glass of water from the sink. He raised it in a gesture of an offer.
“No, thanks,” she said.
“Are we done?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t understand where this conversation is going.”
“I’m no criminal investigator like you, but when I see an FBI agent digging up a grave, I know there has to be something funny going on. You may as well tell me before you lose your job.”
“I won’t lose it.”
“Come into the Twenty-First Century with me, special agent,” Connie said, leaning closer. “Your picture is about to be all over the Internet shoveling out a casket where a beloved preacher was just buried. Do you really believe you’re not going to be fired? There will be thousands of people sharing your pretty face all over the world. Or do you not live in the Twenty-First Century?”
Hewitt pushed away his water and stood, rubbing his forehead. He grimaced and looked at a picture of his daughter on the refrigerator door. He stared for several seconds and sighed.
“Are you having a breakdown?” asked Connie.
“No.” He took a quick glance at her. “But I’m not all right. I haven’t been all right since my daughter disappeared.” Hewitt walked into the living room and sat down.
Connie followed and joined him on the couch. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know about loss.”
“What would you know?” Hewitt asked. “You were never a parent, never lost a son or daughter like I did, like the parents out there who cry during the day and can’t sleep at night thinking about all the terrible situations their kids have gone through.” He turned to her. “Tell me, how do you truly know what I have gone through?”
“I may not know how your specific situation feels, but I’ve miscarried three times. I’ve had a newly painted room full of baby clothes and toys sit in my house for years because the child I thought I would have was never born. I’ve had a man who I thought would stay with me during my darkest times abandon me.”
Hewitt looked away and moved to the far end of the couch.
Connie continued. “I’m sorry you’ve gone through it. True, I will never know exactly how you feel. I do know for four glorious months, my ex and I were so happy, watching our baby grow on the ultrasounds, excited when the baby would kick. We were going to be a family.”
Hewitt turned to her. “Three times?”
“Yes.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I guess I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I was never the nurturing kind anyway. Look at me. I’m an absolute wreck. I’m chunky now. The hourglass figure is gone. Imagine me trying to carry a baby? I’d be a blimp.”
She laughed but Hewitt wasn’t sure how real it was. He shook his head. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Why do you put yourself down?”
Connie flinched. “I don’t know. I thought I would lighten the moment.”
“Do you do that a lot?” he asked.
“What are you, a shrink now?”
Hewitt moved closer. “No. But I know a good woman when I see one.”
Connie smiled. “You think I am?”
“Didn’t I just say so?”
“Why are you answering my question with a question?”
Hewitt sighed. “Why do I have to repeat myself?”
“Because a woman likes to hear she’s special over and over again.”
Hewitt waved his hands in the air. “Whoa, I didn’t say you were special.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Special Agent, you did say I was a good woman.”
“Yes, good. I didn’t say special.”
“Why does saying special scare you?”
Hewitt laughed. “Oh, you’re good all right. You’re good at twisting my words.”
“Ha. Men need to be told what they’re feeling. And I think you feel something for me.”
“Oh, no,” said Hewitt. “It’s not like that at all.”
“Oh, I think it is,” Connie said as she moved closer to him.
Hewitt leaned back on the couch and picked up a picture of him and his daughter off the side table. He gazed at it for a few seconds and looked at Connie. “She was special.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t protect her. Me. So big and strong. Mr. Macho. We had all the money in the world, the best security system to keep her safe.” He lowered his head and placed the picture back on the side table.
Connie touched his hand. “It’s okay to hurt.”
“I can’t take the time to hurt. Don’t you understand? Do you know how many parents and children rely upon me? I can show you cartons of letters from those parents, telling me about their suffering. There isn’t any time for me to rest and feel hurt.”
Connie squeezed his hand. “Maybe you don’t have the time to hurt but you should allow your heart to grieve.”
Hewitt shook his head. “I have too much anger inside me to grieve.” He tried to pull his hand away.
“I’m not letting go. I’m here for you. I wasn’t there for my brother when he lost his wife. I feel terrible about that. I want to help.”
“No one can help me. I’m broken.” Hewitt watched a drop fall from Connie’s eye onto her cheek. “Ever feel lonely?”
“Yes,” she said. “Every night.”
“Well, that we do have in common.” He pulled her close and shivered.
“What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath and sighed. “I’d better explain the picture to my boss.”
“Good luck with that,” she said.
He clicked his phone to call as he waved Connie away. I hope Wrightman won’t be upset with me. He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times.
“Why are you calling me at this hour?” Wrightman said when he answered his phone. “I told you I’m on vacation. I don’t want to hear from anyone. I’m only picking your call up because of the publicity in this case. Can’t you handle this yourself?”
“I’ve put the FBI into an awkward situation.”
“Awkward,” yelled Wrightman, his voice shaking Hewitt’s ear. “How much more awkward can it get? Do you know how embarrassing it is for the world’s top agency to have a middle-aged man elude us when we had the entire perimeter sealed off?”
“I know, sir. I’m working every angle.”
“Every angle? If you were working every angle, we’d know where he and his daughter are by now. Right?”
“Sir, he had some help. He had to. I’m working on those who could have helped him escape.”
“We’re wasting time. Who knows how far he’s gotten by now. Isn’t it about time we start pulling some agents away from that church?”
“No, sir. Not right now. I believe he made his
escape from inside that church, and we have to find the room or area he did it from.”
“We’ve been sitting in that crummy church for several days now. We’re looking like the biggest fools since the Keystone Kops.”
“I have some breaks in the case.”
“Then solve it. Immediately.”
“Yes sir.”
Hewitt coughed and glared at himself in the mirror. “No one makes a fool of me,” he said, forgetting he was still on the phone.
“Excuse me?” said Wrightman.
“Yes sir. I’ll solve this case.”
“All right, that’s my best Knute Rockne speech,” Wrightman said. “What’s the reason you called?”
Hewitt paced back and forth in his bedroom. “Sir,” he said, lying, “I just needed a pep talk.”
“You got it,” shouted Wrightman. “Now go solve this case and stick it to the media.”
The line went dead, and Hewitt dropped the phone on the bed. “I need a strategy,” he said. “I can’t let my feelings interfere with my work. Not anymore.”
Connie snuck into the room. “Are you just using me to help you find my brother so you can put him away?”
“What?” Hewitt said, turning around.
“Using me. Was all that heavy-hearted talk just a bunch of nonsense to get to know me so you can solve the case? I thought you cared. Do you care more about my brother and me or about being a hero?”
“I care about solving the case. I didn’t become the best in the business by letting my heart sob for everyone.”
“I don’t believe that,” Connie said, sitting next to him. Her cellphone rang. She held it away from her ear. “Yes, Dad. Is everything okay?”
“You didn’t stop by,” he said.
“I know. I’m sorry. I am trying to find Michael and Elizabeth. I’ve been busy with the search parties.”
“How’s that going?”
Connie stayed silent for a few seconds. “He’s not here.”
“I guess it’s been a waste of time,” he said.
“Yes, Dad. A waste of time. I have to go.” She hung up and shook her head.
“I know you’ve got your boss on your butt, Hewitt,” she said, “but do you really believe my brother would harm his daughter? Does he fit the profile of such a person?”
Hewitt stood and took a couple of steps to the door. He opened it. “Yes.”
Chapter 40
First-century Jerusalem
The workers began loading up the final carts filled with food and supplies. Michael stepped aside as a group of four Roman soldiers surrounded Paul and walked him up the pier and onto the boat. Michael ran to the captain. “I am looking for a girl this tall,” he said, holding his hand below his neck.
“The Romans have her below deck.”
“I need to get her off this ship. Please help me.”
“I cannot disobey orders from the Romans.”
Michael shook his head frantically. “I cannot let this ship leave with her on board. She will be killed.”
“Is there a problem?” yelled a Roman standing near the edge of the dock.
The captain turned first to the Roman and then back toward Michael. “We are almost ready to sail. There are no problems.”
The Roman walked away as Michael took a few more steps toward the ship.
“Michael, you must do something now,” said Aharon. He grabbed his arm and pressed it. “Act!”
“My God, Michael, do not just stand there,” said Leah.
Aharon reached into a pouch and gave him ten coins. “Bribe them. Save your daughter.”
Michael looked at Leah. “Save my daughter,” she said.
The captain joined him. “I am trying to do what I can. I am not able to get her off the boat. The Romans have her surrounded. I am trying to bargain with the caretaker to see how much silver will get her released.”
“If you cannot get her released, please let me take the journey,” Michael said.
“We leave from shore once all the carts are full,” said the captain as he made his way to the deck. “Do you have enough silver?”
Michael looked at Aharon and Leah. “I hope so.”
The captain picked up a supply cart and handed it to a worker. “This is important,” he instructed the man. “This stays below deck at all times. Surround it with the other boxes. Do not let anyone near this.”
The captain met up with a Roman on the boat and spent several minutes speaking. Aharon placed a knife in Michael’s side pocket. “Do not hesitate in using this. There will come a moment when you will have to kill to save your daughter.”
Michael nodded. “I will do what I need to do.”
“Good; do not grow weak in the face of death,” Aharon said quietly. The whispered words sounded devious to Michael’s ear.
The captain came back to them. “The Romans will not release her. There is not enough silver to convince them. You can come with us. I told them you are a friend of the preacher.”
“How am I going to get her off the ship?”
“You will have to wait until we get to Rome,” the captain said. “I will need to be paid.”
Aharon stepped forward. “Four coins should do.”
The captain shook his head. “You speak for him?”
Aharon glanced at Michael.
“He does.”
“Four coins is all he has,” Aharon said. “He will have to use what he has left to bribe the Romans.”
The captain turned and took a few steps toward the boat. “Please, sir,” Michael said, running to him. “Please, it is my daughter. My only child. She is all I have left in this world.”
The captain faced Michael. “I have much cargo to take with the Romans and their prisoners taking up half my boat.”
“Sir, I do not have much. What you have on that boat is all I have.”
The captain frowned. “Rules are rules. More freight slows my boat down. They want this boat to sail immediately to Rome as we have the wind at our backs.”
Aharon stepped forward and handed the captain a round, short cup. “This was handed down to me. I was told it was used by a king many sunsets ago.”
“What king?”
Aharon shook his head. “I know it has value. More value than the silver he can give you now.”
Michael shook his head. “How are you going to survive? You have given me all your silver.”
Leah grabbed Michael’s hands. “Elizabeth must be saved. We will find other ways to live.”
Michael looked down at Leah’s belly. “What about your baby?”
Aharon put his arm around Leah. “We will survive. I hope you can see our child some sunrise.”
Michael looked back at the boat and noticed the line of carts was short. “It is almost time for me to go.”
He turned to Aharon and Leah. “I hear Rome is a beautiful place to live. Free from tyranny and violence.”
“What Rome are you talking about?” Aharon asked.
Michael grimaced. “One from many sunsets, I guess.”
“This is our home, our traditions, our land,” Leah said. “Free Elizabeth and find your way back to your world.”
“I will take her somewhere safe,” Michael said.
Leah shook her head. “There is no safe place in this world.”
“I worry about you.” Michael watched her squeeze Aharon’s hand.
“I was born here. I lived here with Yochanan. Now, I have Aharon. I am as safe as God allows.”
Michael noticed she tightened her grip on Aharon. He looked down and then away, seeing the captain waving at him. “I have to go,” he said.
Leah let go of Aharon’s hand and moved closer. “Please protect my dear daughter.”
Michael nodded.
“When I lost my daughter
many sunsets ago,” Leah said, embracing him, “I thought my reasons to live had vanished. Your daughter was a gift from God to remind me during my grieving that I need not bear a child to have another.” She pulled back. “You will always be a part of my life whether you stand in front of me or not. You will be right here.” She pointed to her heart.
Aharon looked away as Leah hugged Michael again. “I love you.” She cried and tightened her hold.
“I know. I know. I have always known.” Michael dabbed his eyes with his sleeves. “I have to leave,” he said. “Be well.”
He stepped back, turned and ran up the pier. The boat pulled away from the dock, and Michael took a quick glance back. He watched Aharon and Leah holding each other.
Goodbye, Leah. He could see her body shaking, her face pressed into his chest. He knew he would never forget the night they had talked while sitting on the rooftop. He had come into her life as an angry man, bitter over what had happened to Vicki. He never thought he would be able to open up his heart to love again. You did this for me, Leah. No one else could have ever done it.
Their figures grew smaller and smaller as the boat created distance between him and the shore. He hoped Leah would find a lifetime of happiness with Aharon. He seemed to be a good man. She needed someone like that. His heart’s desire was for them to find peace. He hoped they would find a home somewhere to be a family and raise their child. He knew the child would give her great joy like Elizabeth had always given him. I know there’s uncertainty, but your love will prevail.
Goodbye, my love.
Chapter 41
Fifteen men on each side of the wooden vessel rowed in unison. The captain bellowed encouragement, demanding the men to pull and push their oars with more speed. Michael watched for a few minutes before descending a short stairwell. He saw Elizabeth leaning against a pile of carts filled with food and supplies.
“Dad!” she shouted.
“Quiet, Elizabeth. Where are the Romans?”
“They’re off somewhere drinking. How are we going to get off this boat?”
The Greatest Gift Page 16