I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but I want you to remarry. Jay needs a mother, and you need a wife. Right now, you are curled next to me, Jay is in his bassinette, and we are a family. But if I have to go, I don’t want you left all alone.
I watched you sleep for long time before I wrote this letter—studying your face, looking at the way your hair falls down over your brow, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe—you know—just loving you. I don’t want to leave you, and I don’t want to share you, but if I must, I want you to have the best. You’ve always joked about me being a matchmaker, and this is going to be the most important match that I’ll ever make. I’ve thought about it long and hard, and I know a woman who will make you a good wife. After my funeral, and after you stop feeling so sad, I want you to start dating—
Making a harsh sound in his throat, Dan tucked Gil’s letter back in her Bible—he didn’t want to see the name of the woman she thought could replace her. Gil was the only woman for him, and she always would be. Standing to his feet, he took a deep breath. He needed to hold their son, and he needed to pray. Gil was going to make it. He wouldn’t accept any other outcome.
* * *
Phoebe focused on her pinpoint of light. She was alone again…for now. She tried to pray but couldn’t gather her thoughts. She tried to think of a Bible verse—any Bible verse—but none came to mind. Finally, she began singing her favorite hymn, a song that had always soothed her in the past. As she sang, she concentrated on the words and made them a sacrificial prayer.
Suddenly, she felt a subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. She stopped singing. Chills ran down her spine. She knew she was no longer alone.
“If you can sing, I’ve been too easy on you,” a voice hissed in the blackness. “I can remedy that. When I am through with you, you’re never gonna want to sing again.”
As fear threatened to engulf her, Hebrews 13:5-6 came to her memory. For God has said, “I will never, never fail you nor forsake you.” That is why we can say without any doubt or fear, “The Lord is my helper and I am not afraid of anything that mere man can do to me.”
Phoebe repeated the verses in her mind as the blows fell. With pain exploding throughout her body, she looked at her dot of light and tried to smell the strawberries and tried to hear the birds sing.
* * *
In the surgical waiting room, Thomas watched as Dan held Jay and paced. He shuddered at the naked agony burning in his boss’s eyes. Dan was trying to hum a lullaby, but the notes kept wobbling.
Sue rose to her feet. “Do you want me to take the baby, Danny?”
Dan shook his head. “I need to hold him. He’s part of Gil. I need…”
As Dan’s voice broke, Sam grabbed Thomas’s hand. Together, they bowed their heads and prayed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The sun was setting as Peter slid his cartridge into Nicki’s PlayFest console and sank onto the couch next to Laura. He was physically and mentally exhausted. The whole situation was baffling.
“Peter, are you and Laura all right?” Thomas asked anxiously as contact was established.
“We’re fine,” he replied.
“What’s the status? Have you located Phoebe?”
Peter shook his head. “We retraced the cadets’ steps, but nothing was out of the ordinary. This assignment should have been safe and routine—nothing indicates anything else.”
“That’s puzzling,” Thomas muttered worriedly. “That’s not good at all.”
“Were you able to get in touch with Phoebe’s family?” Laura asked.
Thomas frowned. “She doesn’t have a family. Her parents died when she was nine, and she was put into foster care. She’s attending NSU on a Poppa scholarship. Did you know that?”
Laura shook her head.
Peter felt perplexed. Poppa scholarships were rare, and they always signified that more was going on than met the eye. “What about Drake?” he asked. “Did you contact his family?”
“The phone numbers in his file have been disconnected, but we’ll keep digging.”
“Please do. If Drake has relatives, we need to find them.” Peter shifted on the couch. “When you examined the photograph, did you discover any clues to Phoebe’s location?”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there just wasn’t anything with which to work.”
“In that case, Laura and I will start searching abandoned buildings tomorrow. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He turned his attention to the computer tech. “Zeke, did you find anyone with a grudge against TEMCO?”
Zeke rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. “Not so far, but GAP’s still compiling data.”
Feeling a rush of frustration, Peter slammed his fist against his knee. “None of this makes sense! Local people shouldn’t be able to see our cadets, much less abduct them!”
“Keep the faith, my boy,” Thomas said soothingly. “You’ll find Phoebe.”
“I just hate to think what she’s going through,” Peter replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
Laura squeezed his hand. “I know. Me too.”
As Peter tried to swallow the lump in his throat, Laura turned to the portal and asked the question that had been haunting him all day, “How’s Gil?”
Thomas smiled. “Her surgery was touch and go for a while, but the valve was replaced successfully, and the damaged heart tissue causing her heart to fibrillate was removed. The antibiotics have gotten the endocarditis under control, and now that her heart’s functioning properly, she should make rapid progress.”
“I’m so glad!” Laura exclaimed. “Were they able to repair the adhesions?”
“Yes.” Thomas cleared his throat. “Her surgeon believes the scar tissue was also causing…that is…” He blushed. “After this surgery, conceiving children shouldn’t be such a problem for her.”
Laura clapped her hands. “That’s marvelous!”
“How’s Dan?” Peter asked.
“He’s so relieved that he’s walking on air. During the surgery, he looked like a tightly stretched rubber band. I was extremely worried about him.”
“Did he and Gil accept our cover story?”
Thomas tugged at his collar. “About that. I…uh…had to do a bit of embellishing.”
“Oh?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”
“I told them Laura’s mother had an accident and that you were going along to help, but…well… Gil seemed so concerned that I had to turn her thoughts in another direction. You see, I was afraid to have her upset before her surgery.”
“That’s understandable,” Laura said. “Just what type of embellishing did you do?”
“I’m afraid I inferred that more than friendship was prompting Peter’s desire to be at your side.”
Laura gasped. “You didn’t!”
Thomas gave a reluctant nod. “The story just took on a life of its own. Gil was so intent on finding out how each of you looked, and what each of you said, that things got out of hand…”
“Go on,” Peter muttered, closing his eyes, “tell us the worst.”
“I’m afraid Gil believes you’re going to Alaska to…in a word…meet Laura’s family and ask for their permission to marry her.”
Laura gave a sputter of dismayed laughter. “Oh, no!”
Thomas tugged at his collar. “Gil spent the hours before her surgery planning a surprise engagement party. I’m ever so sorry. I simply don’t know what happened.”
Peter began to chuckle. “I do, and it can be summed up in one word—Gil. We all know what she’s like. Don’t worry about it, Thomas. You did better than most people would’ve done in your situation. And despite the personal complications, our ‘engagement’ will give Gil something pleasant to think about as she recovers.”
“Thank you, my boy. I simply didn’t know how I was going to face you. I wasn’t sure how you’d respond when you learned I’d given you a fiancée.”
“Well, it’s a bit of a shock.” Pet
er grinned, winking at Laura. “But I suppose there are worse fates.”
The corners of Zeke’s mouth began to twitch. “So, have you two lovebirds set a date?”
Peter picked up a sofa pillow and tossed it through the portal. It bounced off Zeke’s head.
“I take it that’s a no?” Zeke asked with a decided smirk.
“Stop giving me trouble and toss back Nicki’s pillow.” Peter laughed.
Zeke threw the pillow back to him. Peter caught it and tucked it behind his head.
Laura leaned forward. “Tom, when you see Gil tomorrow, tell her that a storm knocked down the phone lines by Mom’s cabin. You can also tell her that Mom’s giving Peter the third degree and that my brothers are planning on taking him snipe hunting. That’ll give her something to laugh about.”
“That’s an excellent idea…” He hesitated. “Do I have permission to embellish if need so requires?”
“Knowing Gil, you’ll have to,” Laura replied. “Just don’t embellish to the point where she believes we’ve gotten married. When we get home, I’d hate to go through a fake annulment.”
“I’ll try to keep the story in check.”
Peter chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
* * *
Crystal rolled over in bed and blinked at the clock. She’d slept the day away. Rubbing her eyes, she groaned. Phoebe was missing, Gil was in the hospital, and just to top things off, she’d lost her chance of cruising the Caribbean. There was no way she’d be able to drive down the coast fast enough to meet the boat—even if she was inclined to try while her friends were in danger. Sighing, she turned to look out the window. On the pillow next to her was a giant black spider.
Crystal shrieked and skittered out from under the covers. Grabbing a shoe, she swatted at the spider and missed. The force of her blow against the pillow made the spider trampoline into the air. Shrieking again, she slammed the shoe down. The spider rocketed back into the air. When it landed, it started running across her blanket. Crystal began smashing her shoe down with wild abandon. Eventually, after several more misses, her shoe hit her target.
Grabbing a tissue, she gathered up the squashed arachnid. As she threw it into the trash, God’s soft voice murmured, “Why will you work so hard to kill a spider and ignore the worse things crawling around in your life? I love you, but an unforgiving attitude is just as repulsive to Me as spiders are to you. You need to deal with your bitterness.”
“I don’t know how,” Crystal whispered, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to. Forgiveness is based in action rather than feeling. When you make up your mind to forgive, you refuse to think angry thoughts. You swat at them just like you did the spider. You refuse to let them dominate your thinking.”
“I’m just not ready,” she murmured, putting one bare foot over the other.
* * *
After the conference, Laura began preparing for bed. For security reasons, she was sleeping in Nicki’s room, and Peter was sleeping in the laundry room next to the front door. They didn’t want any unpleasant surprises from unexpected visitors during the night.
Laura unrolled her bedroll and looked through her suitcase. “Oh, bother,” she murmured.
“What’s wrong?” Nicki asked, mumbling through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“I forgot to pack a nightgown.”
“Would one of mine work?”
Laura looked at the petite teenager and laughed. “Only if I shrink several sizes. I’ll go see if Peter has a shirt he can spare.”
Yawning behind her hand, Laura went to the laundry room and knocked. Inside, she found Peter sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag. He was studying the enlarged photo, and the worried frown was back on his face.
Sitting beside him, she asked, “Find anything new?”
He shook his head. “Tom’s right. There aren’t any clues to Phoebe’s location.” He sighed. “I look at this picture and I could kick myself for delaying our search. Even twenty-four hours might’ve made a difference for Drake, and who knows what horrors Phoebe’s enduring. I should’ve acted sooner, but I didn’t think there was a need.”
Laura put a gentle hand on his arm. “It was a group decision to give the situation time to resolve itself. None of us thought the cadets were in danger.”
Peter took a shuddering breath. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to bolster me up, what can I do for you?”
“You called me a marvel earlier, but I guess I’m only half a marvel. I forgot something.”
A reluctant grin tugged Peter’s mouth. “Your toothbrush? I may be induced to share—but it’ll cost you big time.”
Laura laughed. “I didn’t forget anything as drastic as that. I forgot my nightgown. Do you have anything I can sleep in? Nicki’s clothes are too small, and I only packed a few shirts.”
“I think I can manage something.”
Going to his suitcase, Peter rummaged until he found a button-down shirt. Spreading it across her shoulders, he said, “This looks loose enough to be comfortable.”
“I think so too. Thank you, Peter.”
Standing on her tiptoes, Laura kissed his cheek and slipped out the door. As she walked down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder. Peter was standing frozen in the doorway. One of his hands was lightly stroking his cheek where her lips had brushed it.
* * *
In the gnawing darkness, Phoebe’s captor jerked a blindfold over her eyes. As he tied the cloth behind her head, the knot caught in her hair and pulled. Strangely, the pulled hair seemed almost as painful as some of the blows she’d received. Biting her lip, she remained quiet as photos were taken. Before her tormentor left the room, he removed her blindfold. It didn’t matter—it was so dark that she couldn’t see his face.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Early the next morning, Peter tapped lightly on Nicki’s bedroom door. When the teenager opened it, he started to ask where Laura was—and then he saw her. Laura was snuggled up in her bedroll, sound asleep. One shapely bare leg was peeping out of her sleeping bag in an extremely tantalizing way.
She looked scrumptiously lovely, but the thing that made him catch his breath was the sight of her unbound hair. Her auburn curls fanned across the pillow, and the morning light was making them shimmer with fire. The desire to kneel down and run his fingers through her hair was so overwhelming that he backed quickly out of the room and shut the door.
* * *
Laura stirred and began to move. When she opened her eyes, she saw Nicki giggling in a corner. Tossing her hair out of her eyes, she asked with a sleepy smile, “What’s so funny?”
“Peter was just here.” Nicki chortled. “He took one look at you and bolted out the door.”
“Oh, great!” Laura muttered in disgust. “Was I snoring? Drooling? How bad was it?”
“No, nothing like that. You looked fine.”
“Why’d he leave then?”
“He looked shocked.”
Glancing down at her shirt, Laura blushed. “Was I undone?”
“No, it wasn’t that kinda shocked. He looked like he’d backed into an electric fence.”
“You mean jolted—a good shocked?”
“Definitely a good shocked.” Nicki giggled again. “You did look kinda pretty.”
Smiling, Laura threw off her covers. “A good shocked I can handle. A good shocked I can even enjoy.”
* * *
Peter stumbled blindly down the hallway to the laundry room. Dropping onto his sleeping bag, he drew his knees up to his chest. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to get his breathing under control.
He’d felt sure that Laura’s hair would be lovely, but he had no idea how beautiful it actually was. He sighed. It wasn’t just her hair that captivated him. She was a stunning woman, and every part of her was gorgeous and desirable—inside and out.
With a sudden realization, Peter knew that if he had to describe the woman of his dreams, his description would be of
Laura. She’d been one of his best friends since college, but that friendship had slowly transformed into something infinitely more precious. He looked his feelings square in the face and recognized them for what they were—he was in love with Laura. Maybe he always had been, and he just hadn’t recognized love for what it was. He only knew that Laura was the one woman he could picture himself marrying. He blinked rapidly. Marriage.
As powerful emotions bombarded him, Peter ran a shaking hand over his chin. It was true. He wanted Laura for his wife. He wanted it more than he’d wanted anything else before.
He leaned his head against the dryer. He could easily picture himself having a family with her. Cute little girls with their momma’s sparkling emerald eyes, and mischievous red-haired boys who would roll summersaults across the living room rug.
Groaning, Peter bent his head to his knees. He still had no idea if Laura fit his prayer. He needed to find out, but he was almost afraid to try. If Laura didn’t meet the criteria, and if the life he was dreaming about couldn’t take place, he didn’t know if his heart could take it.
CHAPTER TWENTY
After breakfast, Peter sat with Laura at the kitchen table and studied a map of the city. As they tried to figure out where to begin their search, he saw Nicki slipping away to get the newspaper. Suddenly, he heard the teenager scream. Jumping quickly to his feet, he sprinted to the entryway where Nicki was staring in horror at photographs taped to her front door. While Laura hugged the trembling girl, he set his jaw like granite and examined the photos.
The first photograph was of a body bag in a dumpster. He assumed the bag contained Drake’s remains. The dumpster was sitting next to a brick wall that had a rainbow painted on it. On the back of the photo was written: #1. Too late.
The second picture looked like a blurry swirl of red, orange, and black. On the back were the words: #2. The truth shall set you free.
The last photo was of Phoebe chained by her wrists and ankles to a wood floor. It was obvious that she’d been brutally tortured. Peter’s stomach lurched. A deadly anger gripped him. Turning the picture over, he saw on the back: #3. Time’s running out.
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