On his way downstairs, Alex avoided eye contact with the guy who wanted pot and rushed toward the door. Just before he made it out, fingers wrapped around his arm and squeezed, pulling him to a stop. The person attached to the hand was a tall muscular guy sporting a torn leather vest and two armfuls of tattoos, most of which appeared to be prison designs.
“Can I help you?” Alex stepped back and yanked his arm away.
“What you so curious about?”
“Nothing you can help with.” Alex turned toward the door.
A fist collided with Alex’s cheekbone, exploding his face in pain. Dots and colors danced before his eyes. He stumbled back and turned toward the jerk. Alex narrowed his eyes and punched him in the nose. Blood gushed out. His nostrils flared and he shoved Alex into the wall. “Nobody hits me!”
“I think I just did.” Alex hit him in the eye and then bolted out of the building.
“Get back here!”
Alex tripped over a broken tricycle. He stumbled, but regained his balance before crashing into a guy who looked to be twice as fierce as the one already after him.
“Stop him!”
About a dozen people turned and stared at Alex. He swore and ran faster, digging into his pocket for his keys. He’d been smart enough to leave his car unlocked, but could he start it in time to get away?
Fingers grazed his back, but didn’t grab onto him or his clothes. Swearing again, Alex forced his feet to move even faster. The moist ground didn’t help, but he was ahead enough to keep from being caught.
He broke free of the alleyway and gasping for air, bolted for his car. He’d never been happier to see the beautiful beater. He flung open the door, jumped inside, and slammed it shut just as several ugly, burly guys reached it. Alex locked the door and stuck the key in the ignition. The men beat on the car. The back passenger window cracked. One man jumped on the trunk and wailed on the roof.
Heart thundering, Alex started the car and peeled away, not caring if he ran over any of them. They jumped out of the way just in time, all yelling and making obscene gestures.
Breakfast
Nick sat on the couch, typing on his laptop. Hanna snuggled next to him, holding a doll that looked like her and a new blanket his mom had given her the day before when Nick had made his road trip to visit Chester. Ava and Parker were both still sleeping, and would be for a few hours.
He kissed Hanna’s head and turned to the television. She was watching a cartoon with colorful kid vampires at a fair with normal kids, all of them eating ice cream and cotton candy together. He turned back to his laptop, trying his best to type with Hanna leaning against his arm.
Nick read over his notes from the missing persons cases and then checked to see if there was any update on his request to transfer the prisoner to a closer, lower-security facility. He didn’t expect any updates yet, but couldn’t stop himself from checking every so often. Normally, it was doubtful that the transfer would be considered much less approved, but with the massive case of missing people, there was a possibility. Especially considering Chester’s connection to everything. If he cooperated, it might prove to be the break they needed to crack the case.
After a while, Hanna sat up. “I’m hungry.”
He set the laptop aside and smiled. “I have all the makings for chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Oh, okay.” Her voice was flat.
“You guys love those.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Hanna…”
She looked to the side. “Well, on Saturdays Dave usually makes us soufflés with whip cream and a special strawberry sauce.”
Nick’s eyes widened and the room seemed to shrink around them as her words settled in. He took a deep breath. “First of all, it’s not Saturday. Today’s Monday. Second, I’m not Dave. I’m your dad, and you guys have always loved my chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Yeah.”
“And lastly, does your mom have him living with you guys?” Their custody agreement had been clear about that point.
“No, but he visits a lot.”
“Look at me.”
Hanna turned to him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. He visits a lot.”
That was the same thing she’d just said—word for word. Nick’s mouth curved down. “Did she tell you to say that?”
She reached for her doll. “I’m not so hungry anymore.”
Nick let out a slow breath. He had to give it to Corrine—she was good. She’d managed to find many ways to ruin his little time with the kids from clear across the country. Little jabs here and there. Given Dave’s job as a flight attendant, even if he did live there, it would be easy enough to convince Hanna that he was only visiting.
Hanna played with the doll’s hair. “Sorry, Daddy.”
He pulled her close. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing at all.”
“You don’t like it when we talk about Dave.”
She was observant for being so young. “What I don’t like is that you guys live so far away.”
“Mommy says you see us the same amount, but she’s wrong. We saw you a lot more before we moved.”
He kissed the top of her head and tried to ignore the lump forming in his throat. “I know, sweetie. I hate that.”
“So do I.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes while a new cartoon started. Nick sat back. “Do you want to help make the pancakes? You’ve always wanted to help pour in the chocolate chips. I think you might be ready now.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Go wash your hands, and I’ll get everything ready in the kitchen.”
“Yay!” She set the doll aside and bounced toward the bathroom.
Hanna skipped into the kitchen just as Nick pulled the bag of chocolate chips out of the cupboard. Her eyes widened. “Are we going to put all of those in?”
“Probably not. There wouldn’t be any room for the pancake batter.”
She giggled. “That might be fun.”
“I don’t think it’d cook very well. We’ll start with a cup of these. Maybe you can have a few extras while they cook since you’re helping.”
“Yummy!”
They laughed and had fun as they made the breakfast. Nick relaxed and enjoyed the moment, not letting anything interfere. At last, they had a tall stack of pancakes of varying sizes.
“Did I mention we have three kinds of syrup?”
Hanna’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Well, we do. And bacon. You don’t like bacon, though, do you?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, we should probably make that, then.”
“Yeah!”
Nick handed her a pancake while he cooked the bacon in the same pan they’d used for the pancakes. Just as they got the table set with everything, both Parker and Ava came out, rubbing their eyes.
“Have a seat.” Nick waved at the table. “I’ll grab the drinks. Do you want milk or juice?”
“Hot cocoa,” Hanna squealed.
“I can do that. How about the two of you?”
“Coffee,” Ava said.
“Yeah,” Parker agreed. “Me, too.”
“How about a round of hot chocolate?” Nick asked. “I’ll have some, as well.”
They grumbled, but sat. Nick was tempted to say something about them being too young to drink coffee, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He kept the conversation light and even got all three kids to laugh a few times. Maybe things were actually starting to turn around.
Once everyone was stuffed, Nick leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you get ready? We’ll go to the Seattle Center, and you guys can go on any ride you want.”
“For real?” Ava asked.
He nodded. “But you have to get ready.”
She and Parker exchanged an excited glance, and they scrambled from the table.
After Nick had gotten the breakfa
st cleaned up, he checked his laptop for an update on the transfer. He froze, staring at the words in disbelief. It had been approved. It would be a while before anything happened, but it had been approved! Once Chester was settled into his new home, he would finally tell Nick what they needed to know—assuming they could keep the news of Rebekah’s disappearance from him.
Update
Jonah stared at the future courtroom as if that could erect it faster. He took a deep breath, cursing the need to be patient. He’d always extolled the virtues of patience to his followers, but he much preferred other people reap its benefits. He wanted what he wanted right away.
Abraham came over and stood next to Jonah. “It’s going to be a magnificent building, Great High Prophet.”
Hopefully they would both be alive to see it when it finally completed. Jonah nodded. “It certainly will be. Any news?”
“Rebekah is going through the cleansing as we speak.”
“Good. How polluted by the world has she become?”
“She married a non-member.”
Jonah crossed his arms. “Chester isn’t going to be pleased about that.”
Abraham shrugged. “If you didn’t marry them, it doesn’t count. You married her and Chester.”
“Right. Any update on him?”
“Isaac went out to speak with his contact. He’s back and is going to talk to you as soon as he cleanses himself.”
“Good. You really think he’ll be able to pull any strings?”
“If anyone can, it’s my son.”
“He knows where to find me.” Jonah stepped away and headed for his home. Along the way, the residents stopped to bow or kiss his hand.
One woman paused, still holding his hand. She stared into his eyes as though wanting to say something.
“Speak, sister Sapphira.”
She smiled. “When does your lovely Eve return, kind Great High Prophet?”
He gave a friendly smile. “Not soon enough for my liking.”
She squeezed his hand. “We all wish for your happiness.”
Another man stopped after kissing Jonah’s hand. “When will we have the privilege of hearing about your latest prophecies, Great High Prophet? Will we return to the nightly meetings soon?”
“Eventually, yes. It will take time, however, to return to the blissful state we enjoyed before we were persecuted by the world and ripped apart from our community.”
“Understandably so, Great High Prophet. But it’s to your good grace that we are on our way to returning. We will certainly be blessed for our persistence and perseverance—and none more than you.”
“Thank you, Abel. It’s much appreciated.”
He nodded. “Blessed be.”
“Blessed be.” Jonah shook his hand and then managed to get to his home without running into anyone else. Once inside, he sat on his chair and took a deep breath. “Waiting will only make the payoff all the sweeter.”
He imagined the courtroom and gallows built to their full glory. All they would need to do would be to hold the trial and execute everyone who had led to the breakup of the community. Then they could bask in their new, improved group, the majestic courthouse and blood-stained gallows a perpetual reminder to everyone of what happened when someone breaks the rules. They may get away with it for a while—but justice always avenges.
A knock sounded on the door.
Jonah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Who is it?”
“Isaac, Great High Prophet.”
“Come in!” Jonah sat up tall in his chair and waited as the door opened.
The younger man, who was a spitting image of his father, came inside. “May I sit?”
“Of course.”
He pulled a chair over and sat in front of Jonah.
“I hope you have good news.”
The corners of Isaac’s mouth twitched. “I do, Great High Prophet.”
“Speak freely.” Jonah waved his hands at Isaac.
“Thank you. I spoke with my friend, but there’s a few things you need to know.”
“Okay.” Jonah stared at him and leaned forward.
“It’s practically impossible to break anyone out of the prison Chester’s in.”
“Even from the inside? Come on.”
“Would you like me to recount the security measures in place? I could bore you with the details, but it would take up too much of your valuable time.”
Jonah leaned back. “You’re convinced it’s impossible?”
Isaac nodded. “It is. Especially where he’s at.”
“Splendid. Now what? I thought you said there’s some good news.”
“It’s going to be tricky—dangerous, even. He’s not going to risk it without having some benefit.”
“Of course not. What does he want?”
“There’s also the matter of what I want.”
Jonah groaned. “What do you want?”
Isaac nodded. “A higher rank. I’m in the inner circle, but I don’t get half the respect you and the others do. Grant me the power to discipline the lower members, and I can get Chester back for you.”
Jonah narrowed his eyes.
“I can do it.”
It felt like blackmail, and Jonah hated that. He cracked his knuckles. “How about this.”
Isaac leaned forward, his eyes wide. “Yes?”
“If you bring Chester to me, you’ll get everything you ask for.”
“Thank you, Great High Prophet.”
“But…”
The younger man’s face paled. “But?”
“If you don’t, you lose your place in the inner circle.”
They stared at each other, Isaac’s complexion continuing to lighten.
“Deal?”
Isaac swallowed. “Okay.”
“Now, tell me the plan to free Chester from the impenetrable prison.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, we’re in luck. A policeman has played right into our plan by requesting Chester be transferred to a lower security prison.”
“Good. How is he going to break out of that one?”
“He isn’t.” Isaac leaned back in his chair, his color returning.
Jonah arched a brow. “Don’t leave me hanging like that.”
“Chester isn’t going to make it to the other jail. He’s going to be broken out during the transfer.”
A slow smile spread across Jonah’s face. “I like it. Good work, Isaac. Should this work, you deserve your promotion.”
Balance
Alex got off the phone with Dad’s editor and rubbed his temples. There was so much to do to help him get ready for his upcoming deadline, but there were things he wanted to do for his own blog, too. He was starting to generate more money with it, but he’d had next to no time to put into it. He really wanted to look more into the homeless camp—the people, not the place itself. That was one place Alex was more than happy to let the police deal with from here on out.
His phone rang. Alex answered without looking. “I told you he—”
“Alex, it’s Nick.”
“Oh, I thought you were someone else.”
“You sound stressed. Want to take Ariana to the Seattle Center? The kids and I are getting ready to leave.”
“I wish, but Ari’s not on spring break this week and Dad’s got a ton of work for me to do for his upcoming book.”
“Right. I forgot she’s in school this week. Oh, speaking of work, have you thought any more about the police academy?”
Alex held back a groan. “I’m not really sure it’s for me.”
“You have a knack for this stuff, I’m telling you. You really should consider it.”
“Maybe.”
Voices sounded in the background. “Hey, Alex, I’ve got to go. Think about the academy, okay?”
“Okay.”
The call ended and Alex took a deep breath. His mind wandered back to the homeless camp and his close getaway. He probably would’ve had better luck if he’d gone in with someone else
. Who knew? Maybe the police academy provided training that would help make trips like he’d made successful.
Alex shoved the thoughts aside and turned back to his laptop. There was a lot of data to enter for his dad. That was what he needed to focus on, not becoming a cop. He opened the two programs he needed and entered numbers back and forth until his vision turned blurry and his stomach was rumbling.
He went to the kitchen and warmed up some leftovers. Clementine walked in and rubbed against his legs as he got his food ready.
“Hey, kitty. You’ve got the life, huh? Eat, sleep, repeat. I could use some of that.” Alex grabbed his food from the microwave and sat. Clementine followed him and stayed under the table, probably hoping for scraps.
Mom came in, rubbing her eyes. “Hey, honey.”
Alex swallowed a mouthful of food. “Hi, Mom. How’s work?”
“Tiring. I had a full schedule this morning.” She scooped out some of the lasagna Alex had left on the counter.
“That’s great. I’m glad your salon is doing so well.”
“It’s doing better than I anticipated. Dad and I are talking about me moving it from the garage to renting a place.”
“Really? Wow. Where would you go?”
“I could either rent some office space and have my own salon, or I could join an established one, but I’m not sure I want to do that. I like being able to set my own hours.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She came over and kissed his cheek. “And how about you? How’s everything going as Dad’s assistant?”
He cringed. “If I’m going to keep doing that, I really need a better title. That makes me feel like a secretary.”
“If you’re going to keep it up?” She arched a brow.
Alex shrugged.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, there’s my blog—”
“That’s how Dad got started.” She beamed.
He nodded. “And Nick keeps bringing up the police academy.”
Mom stared at him. “Really? You’d be interested in that?”
“I don’t know. He seems to think I’d make a good cop.”
“I’ve heard there’s a shortage of officers.”
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