“Are you there?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he quickly replied. “I’d be happy to forgive you, but there’s nothing for me to forgive. I acted like a jerk, and I’ve been sorry for it ever since. I hope we can be friends.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” she said uncomfortably. “But I promise not to ignore you anymore.”
“That’s a start.” He smiled. “Can we be more than acquaintances, at least?”
“Magis noti, quam acceptus.”
“Latin?”
“Sorry. Knee-jerk response to stress, remember?”
Marc grinned. “Did you at least say something nice?”
“I said that being more than acquaintances was acceptable—” Crystal suddenly gasped. “Marc, are you wearing a belt?”
Marc blinked. Her voice was dripping with excitement. “Yes, but what does that—?”
“How fast can you get here?” she asked.
“I don’t understand. Where are you?”
“Hawking Hall. I’m sitting on the marble stairs, and I just figured something out. I need help, and I need it fast! I know what happened to Wade Kingston.”
Marc hesitated. “We all know what happened to Wade. I’ve spent the last few days taking Jill around to hotels and bars. She’s decided to give up and wait for him to dry out.”
“He’s not drinking!” Crystal said firmly. “He’s in trouble, and I can prove it!”
“Wade’s unreliable. He has a history with alcohol, and—”
“I thought you were his friend!”
Marc nudged his duffle bag with the toe of his shoe. “I am.” He sighed. “But even his wife thinks he’s shacked up somewhere with a bottle.”
“That’s all the more reason to find him. Please come.”
Marc was silent.
“Fine,” Crystal said in frozen tones. “I’ll wait for Zeke to get off work. He’ll be happy to help. I don’t know why I bothered asking you.”
“Wait a sec,” he said quickly. “I’ll be right there.”
There wasn’t any answer. Crystal had already hung up.
* * *
Looking through the temporal portal, Peter asked, “Should we tell Dan what’s going on?”
Thomas shook his head. “I spoke with Gil’s doctor tonight, and he’s adamant she avoid stress. She’s still weak, and additional complications are possible. Besides, the hair around Dan’s temples is turning white. He doesn’t need to worry about anything other than his wife.”
“Do they suspect that something’s wrong at TEMCO?”
Thomas tugged his collar. “Quite the contrary. I’m afraid the story about your romance has continued to gain momentum. Gil had Dan buy some bridal magazines, and she’s making a list of things to do in preparation for your wedding.”
Laura glanced at Peter. “We’d better get home soon, or Gil will have my dress picked out and your tux rented.”
Peter groaned. “That woman’s a force of nature.”
“You can say that again.” Zeke chuckled. “She has you registered at McGuntry’s. Would you like me to buy you the silver tea set or the cappuccino maker?”
“How on earth did she manage to register us?” Laura sputtered.
Zeke’s lips twitched. “I’m afraid I’m partly to blame. She called me at dawn and had me walk her through McGuntry’s online registry process. As far as the gifts she chose, her taste is impeccable.”
“I can’t believe she’s picked out our wedding gifts.” Laura moaned.
“Only some of them,” Zeke replied. “She said there were essentials every household should have.”
“Just how many essentials are we talking about?” Laura asked in an apprehensive tone.
“Let’s just say she had me pigeonholed for several hours. If you receive everything she chose, you’re going to need to rent a warehouse.”
Laura fell back against the couch cushions and shook with helpless laughter.
Peter changed the subject. “We’ll start searching churches tomorrow. If we miss our contact time, don’t be alarmed. There are sixty-three churches to examine.”
“I understand,” Thomas said, “but try to make contact if at all possible. Although I’ll do my best not to worry, I’m afraid I will be concerned.”
“Aren’t worried and concerned the same thing?”
“Shadows of distinction, my boy, shadows of distinction.”
Smiling, Peter pulled the cartridge out of the PlayFest console. The portal swirled away. He looked over at Laura. She was still laughing.
“Oh, Peter”—she giggled—“what are we going to do if people start buying us wedding gifts? Leave the country?”
His lips twitched. “I suppose that’d be one way of handling things.”
“Can you think of another?”
“Changing our names and entering witness protection?”
Laura shook her head. “That wouldn’t work. Gil would track us down.”
“You may be right. That woman’s half bloodhound.”
Peter reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Laura’s face. Suddenly, his laughter stilled. Capturing one of her red curls, he wrapped it around his finger. He could see a rapid pulse beating in her throat and could tell she was holding her breath. Gently, he pulled her close and buried his lips in her hair. The scent of lavender rose from her in heady waves. Tightening his arms around her, he closed his eyes.
Peter could feel Laura relaxing into his embrace, but then, with a shuddering sigh, she pulled away slowly and said goodnight. Her bare feet padded softly across the floor as she went to Nicki’s bedroom and shut the door.
Flopping his head against the back of the couch, Peter groaned. He needed to get himself under control. He didn’t have any right to hug Laura until he knew she fit his prayer. He just wasn’t sure how to find out—it wasn’t as if a question of that sort could easily be worked into a conversation. But until he found his answer, he was just toying with her emotions and torturing himself. Rubbing the back of his neck roughly, he went to the laundry room to get ready for bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NSU’s campus was lit up like a Christmas tree in the moonlight. A cool breeze blew through Marc’s hair as he pushed open the door to Hawking Hall. His footsteps echoed as he hurried to the marble staircase. Crystal was sitting with her chin in her hand, rubbing a finger over a scratch in the marble.
Nervously cracking his knuckles, Marc stood in front of her. “So, how can I help?”
Crystal pushed at her owlish glasses. “I can’t believe you came.”
“I should’ve come the moment you asked. I’m sorry I argued. How can I make it up to you?”
She smiled. “By holding still for a second.”
“Sure. Why do—?” Shock rolled over Marc in a shivering wave as Crystal unbuckled his belt. “What do you think you’re doing?” he shouted, springing away.
Crystal’s face was full of confusion. As he rebuckled his belt, she began to blush. Jumping to her feet, she snapped, “Not what you think I was doing! I can tell you that! Sheesh! How deluded can one man get?”
Marc winced. It was pretty obvious he’d misread her intentions, but he couldn’t imagine why she’d grabbed his belt. “Cris, I’m sorry. I—”
“Oh, shush up! It’s been four years, and you’re still a raving egomaniac.”
“Cris, I—”
“Be quiet!” Crystal thrust her angry face toward him. “I called you a narcissist once, and my evaluation of your character was way too benign!”
Marc blinked, choked, and began to chuckle.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, you overgrown orangutan!”
Marc laughed even harder. “Oh, Cris, why do we always manage to get off on the wrong foot? I’ll admit to having an orangutan’s IQ if you’ll just explain what you were doing.”
Pushing at her glasses, Crystal mumbled, “I need a man’s belt to prove my theory. I thought you understood that. I thought that’s why yo
u came.”
“Let’s just say my mind works a bit slower than yours.” He unbuckled his belt and handed it to her. His lips twitched. “Do you need my pants too?”
Crystal’s blush deepened. “Stop being a cheeseball, and tell me your waist measurement.”
“About thirty-four inches, why?”
Crystal fastened his belt around her waist. “Wade’s bigger than you, isn’t he?”
Marc nodded. “His waist is at least forty inches.”
Crystal adjusted the belt. When she let it go, it sagged around her hips. Frowning, she bundled her sweater underneath it. It still sagged. Crystal gave a disgusted huff and tried to hitch up the belt. Marc watched with twitching lips and remained silent.
After several more attempts to stabilize the belt, she requested in a small voice, “Give me your shirt, will you?”
Marc began to grin.
“Don’t start!” she snapped. “You know I don’t have ulterior motives.”
“Didn’t say you had,” he replied in a voice tight with laughter.
After he unbuttoned his shirt, Crystal snatched it from his hand and rolled it underneath the belt. Giving him a glare, she sprinted to the top of the stairs and slowly leaned back.
“What the dickens do you think you’re doing?” Marc yelled, running to her side and grabbing her shoulder. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“I’m just trying to get the trajectory right,” she mumbled. “I’ve been doing the mental math, and Wade would’ve been facing backward for the scratches to start at the—”
“Will you talk sense?” he exclaimed.
Crystal gave an exasperated mutter. Lying down on the stairs, she began to roll.
“Be careful!” Marc bellowed, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop.
“I was right!” Crystal crowed from her prone position. “It all fits!”
“What fits? I wish you’d explain yourself.”
Crystal perched on a stair. “Wade always wears that big belt buckle, right?”
Marc nodded. “He won it in a rodeo. I’ve never seen him without it. Why?”
“Look at the scratches on the stairs. They match marks that would’ve been made by the intermittent trajectory of a belt buckle hitting at various intervals.”
“Cris, those scratches could’ve been made by anything.”
“Maybe so,” she said, pointing at the lobby, “but what about that four-foot gouge leading to the exit?” Bounding down the stairs, she threw herself to the floor. Matching the belt buckle with the long scratch, she began pulling herself toward the door. “See? It all fits.”
“You’re leaping to conclusions,” Marc replied, squatting beside her. “If Wade fell down the stairs, someone would’ve found him.”
Crystal pressed her nose to the floor and shuddered. “Not necessarily. Smell that.”
Marc leaned forward and sniffed. “Bleach? What does that prove?”
Crystal sat up and shivered. “It proves he was pushed. Someone cleaned up his blood.”
“You’re giving yourself the heebie-jeebies for nothing,” Marc replied. “The only danger Wade’s in is from alcohol poisoning.”
“Look, I saw Wade in church last Sunday. When we talked after service, he told me how grateful he was that God helped him stay sober and save his marriage. A man doesn’t talk like that on Sunday and throw it away on Monday!”
“Some do,” Marc said quietly.
“I don’t see why people aren’t giving him the benefit of the doubt,” Crystal grumbled, swatting at a stray blonde curl tickling her nose. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Is that why you forgave me?”
Crystal blinked. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to find Wade. He’s a big man. It wouldn’t be easy for someone to cart him around like a bag of potatoes. The parking lot’s pretty far away. If I was Wade’s assailant, I’d hide him in the building.”
“Okay.” Marc sighed. “I’ll play along. Where would you tuck a six-foot-three-inch man?”
“Smell the floor. If we follow the bleach, we’ll find the trail.”
Marc cocked a brow, but he obediently began crawling around the floor sniffing at random.
“Here!” Crystal exclaimed. “There’s a bleach trail leading down the hallway toward the Mandal lab. The geneticists shut down that part of Hawking Hall a few weeks ago for summer break. It’d be the perfect place to hide him.”
Before Marc could reply, Crystal took off running. He scrambled to his feet and followed. By the time he reached her, she was yanking on the Mandal lab’s door.
“You need a key,” he said. “If you’ll hold your horses, I’ll see if I can locate the janitor.”
“There’s no time! Don’t you understand?” Wrapping his shirt around her hand, Crystal plunged her fist through the window in the door.
“What are you doing?” Marc cried as glass shattered. “We’re gonna have to pay for that!”
Giving him a disdainful glance, Crystal unlocked the door and ran inside. “Wade!” she shouted. “Can you hear me? Wade!”
“See,” Marc said dryly, leaning up against the wall. “I told you he wasn’t here.”
Crystal sprinted across the lab and pulled at the door leading to the supply closet. It didn’t budge. She began throwing herself against the locked door. Marc shook his head. She was small enough that watching her was like watching a butterfly trying to knock over a brick.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he muttered, trying to catch her arm. “And you’re never gonna get it open that way.”
She glared at him. “Then why don’t you help?”
Marc sighed. He knew the money to replace the door was going to be coming out of their paychecks, but he couldn’t let her batter herself to pieces. With one mighty lunge, he threw his shoulder against the door. With a groan of splintered wood, the door swung open. His nose wrinkled at a foul smell.
Marc stepped inside the storage closet. “See,” he said patiently. “Nobody’s here.” Flicking on the lights, he caught sight of something wadded up in the corner. Getting a better look, he gasped. “Crystal, call 911!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gil asked Nicki to keep her company while everyone went to the cafeteria for supper. The teenager felt pleased at Gil’s request, but her pleasure quickly faded when Gil turned to her and said, “What’s going on?”
Nicki jumped. “Nothing.”
“You’re a horrible liar. I know something’s bothering you. Come on, spill.”
Nicki, deeply aware of her promise to keep the new mother in the dark about Phoebe, shrugged her shoulders.
“You’re gonna make me guess?”
“Everything’s fine, really.”
“No, it’s not. Are you upset that your parents left you behind while they went on a trip?”
Nicki became very still. Although Gil hadn’t guessed about Phoebe, she’d managed to put her finger smack-dab in the middle of an old, burning ache.
“I thought so,” Gil said softly, struggling up on one elbow. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told many people. When I was a girl, my parents loved to travel. When I got old enough to be left alone, they stopped taking me along. It happened so much that it hurt my feelings.”
Nicki took a shuddering breath. “Really?”
Gil nodded. “I began to think that if the people who were supposed to love me the most didn’t want me around, I must not be worth very much. Do you feel that way sometimes?”
Tears spilled over from Nicki’s eyes. “They’re gone all the time! Even when they aren’t traveling, they’re never home. I must be a washout for them to avoid spending time with me. I might as well not even exist. I might as well be dead!”
Reaching over, Gil squeezed Nicki’s hand. “I know those types of feelings—I’ve felt them too. But you’re very valuable. Your parents are just too busy. Mine were the same.”
“Did they ever change?”
G
il shook her head. “When I talked to them about how I was feeling, they said they loved me, but they continued leaving me behind. I was awfully hurt, but I realized that God would never abandon me like my parents had. I began cultivating a relationship with Him.” Gil leaned forward. “Have you asked Jesus to be your Savior?”
Nicki nodded. “I asked Him to forgive my sins years ago.”
“What have you been doing with that relationship since then?”
Nicki shrugged.
“Think of your relationship with God like a marriage. If I only talked to Dan when I had a problem, would that be good?”
Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Nicki whispered, “I try to pray, but it’s boring.”
Gil’s eyes twinkled. “You sound like you’ve just admitted to killing puppies. Believe me, I felt the same way until I learned that God wanted two-way conversations with me. The Bible says Jesus is the Good Shepherd and His sheep know His voice. Learning how to recognize God’s voice will lead you on an incredible adventure. Grab my Bible, will you?”
Nicki picked up a tattered Bible that was held together by packing tape.
“Take a peek inside,” Gil prompted with a smile.
Opening the Bible, Nicki saw verses marked in different colors. Some phrases were underlined, some were circled, and some had stars next to them. There were dates in the margins and notes on the pages.
“What you need is a Bible in an easy translation that you can feel free to mark up. The Bible is God’s love note. It’s a gold mine of riches, and it’s your privilege to look for gold nuggets every day. Lots of times, God speaks to me through His Word.”
“How does He do that?” Nicki asked, thumbing through the Bible.
“When I’m reading, some of the words jump up and grab me. Sometimes, the words comfort my heart. Sometimes, they smack me in the face and give me a wakeup call. When something speaks to me, I mark it so I can remember it.”
“But the Bible’s so big,” Nicki moaned. “I tried to read it once, but it was really dull.”
“Started at the beginning and got stuck in the last half of Exodus, didn’t you? Let me show you a secret. Take my Bible and open it in half.”
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