“No, it’s because you think you’re so special and holy. Why don’t you get off your cloud and come live with the rest of us?”
And to think he came to me for help. Give me grace, Lord. “You’re right. I am special. I’m a child of God, and He loves me so much that He died for me. He lives inside me and helps me deal with”—she didn’t want to be spiteful—“deal with situations in my life that aren’t always pleasant.”
“Randi, look. I didn’t come to argue with you. I simply wanted you to testify that I’m a better parent for Tyler than Brenda.”
Randi chuckled. “I’m sorry, Cal, but I can’t do that. In my book, you aren’t.” She opened the car door and slipped inside before Cal could respond then rolled down the window. “Don’t get a court order, because I will not help your case.”
Cal stepped away from her car. Lord, please get through to him. He needs You. He needs to grow up.
She turned the key and started the engine. Putting the car in reverse, she backed down the driveway and onto the street then shifted into drive and headed toward work. She saw Mabel pushing her shopping cart out to her car and waved. The older lady smiled and waved back.
Randi clicked on her cell phone and auto-dialed Jordan’s number. On hearing the answering machine, she hung up and continued on to work. He couldn’t possibly be at the police station still, could he?
Jordan couldn’t thank his father enough for the quick response of finding him an attorney. To say the attorney was happy with how cooperative Jordan had been with the authorities was an overstatement. Legally, Jordan should not have given them so much freedom. Morally, he felt as if he had no choice. But with Agent Wilkes out to prove him responsible, an attorney was necessary to protect him. They spent a little over an hour reviewing the past two days; then the attorney excused himself, and five minutes later Jordan was walking out of the police station.
“Thank you.” Jordan extended his hand.
“My pleasure. Remember—if they call you in again, you call me. My office is in Ellsworth. But I’ve informed them that if they need to speak with you again, they are to contact me and I’ll get in touch with you. Don’t say another word. I understand your wanting to help them find the little girl. But Wilkes is convinced you’re guilty. Be very careful.”
“I will.” Jordan put his hand in his pocket to retrieve his keys and touched the business card the lawyer had given him. He hoped he would not have to use it.
He returned to the studio and went to work. Dena had everything in order, and tomorrow there would be an early morning studio appointment for a family portrait. He glanced down at the number. Ten people. He hoped they were older and able to listen to instructions; patience would be in short supply after the grueling time with Agent Wilkes.
It felt good to be working. Dena had covered for him, but he wanted to keep working for her. He prayed she still trusted him.
The next day the family arrived, and the session went very well. Dena came in and went over some of the bookwork while he finished up with the family. After the last person left, she spoke up. “You were good with them.”
“Thanks. I was concerned the weariness of the past few days would get the better of me. I’m just grateful the baby was sleeping most of the time.”
Dena chuckled. “I hear you. So what’s happened with the police investigation?”
“If they would leave me alone and try to find Lucy, it might help.”
Dena’s eyes widened. “They think—”
“Not all of them—just one,” he interrupted. “He thinks I must have been a part of everything and that my pictures were going to be used somehow for the ransom.”
“Oh, no. Why would he think that?”
“Because I unwittingly took another photograph of Lucy Tomisson.”
“What? When?”
“About the second week I was here. I was just out taking photos when I came across this mother and child at the beach. The girl was in her glory. The mother seemed happy, but something in her eyes seemed more distant. Looking back, I’d say she was thinking about what she’d done or how much time they’d be spending with the child. Unfortunately the photo does not capture the woman’s face. I can’t wait until the police find Lucy alive and leave me out of it.”
Dena settled into a chair. “Wayne and I were going on a shoot next week in Florida. Do you want me to find someone else to cover it?”
“May I?” He smiled. The getaway would be nice. “Joking. I know the sheriff wants me in the area.”
“Would you like Wayne to speak with the sheriff? They go a long way back.”
“No, I’m fine. I called my dad and had an attorney sent to the station after the second day of Agent Wilkes’s not bothering to look at any information, except to twist things so it looked like I was guilty. I gave them two days of my time without a lawyer to try to help. After that, I’d had enough.”
“I doubt I would have given them more than an hour.” Dena stood up and patted him on the back. “Hang in there, Jordan. The Lord will get you through.”
Jordan respected Dena’s faith and appreciated her confidence in him that he wasn’t a suspect in her eyes. He wished he could say the same for Miranda. Her suspicious, dark gray eyes from yesterday still haunted him. “He’s what I’m trusting in. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go over to the point where I took those pictures. It would be nice if the lady and child were there again.”
“Do you think it wise to go? Wayne and I have been on a stakeout before. Maybe we could lend a hand, as well.”
“You know, if we could set up a team to stake out the area—”
The phone rang.
“Hello,” Dena answered. A moment later her face paled, but she said nothing. She motioned for a pen. Jordan reached for one and handed it to her. She wrote something down then handed it to Jordan.
He read the note. FBI is listening. His temper rose another notch; then he told himself to settle down. Agent Wilkes believed him guilty. The man had to follow his leads. Unfortunately it wasn’t helping that little girl. He hoped Wilkes would move on and look for Lucy Tomisson’s real abductors.
“Sure, Sally, we can work that out. Tell Brad he can come to my place this evening. Wayne would love to see him.” Dena paused and gave Jordan a thumbs-up.
Something was going on with this phone call. Who was Sally, and how would she know the FBI was listening in on their conversation?
“Great. See you tonight.” Dena hung up the phone. “Jordan, on second thought, we probably should leave it to the authorities to investigate.” She scribbled down another message. Play along with what I say.
“You’re probably right. I just wish I could do something for that little girl.” Jordan read the next note. Tonight—my house with Sheriff McKean. Jordan nodded his agreement.
“I know. But we can pray.”
“I’ve been doing that since the first visit from the sheriff.” He wanted to say so much more but figured he shouldn’t.
“Well, I’ve done my bookwork. I need to get ready for Brad and Sally coming over tonight. Wayne and I will go to Florida as we’ve planned. I’m sure things will work out here.”
“I know they will. I’m innocent.”
“I know, and eventually Agent Wilkes will know, as well.” She smiled.
Jordan held back a chuckle. He could have so much fun knowing Agent Wilkes was listening. But then again, that would let Wilkes know he was exposed.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Sure.”
“Do we have any scheduled appointments for the rest of the day?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Why don’t you finish that painting today and take your mind off things?”
She pointed to the photograph on his computer of the abducted little girl.
“You know, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I could use the relaxation.”
Dena left after a brief hug and slipped her cell phone into his hand. Cell phones were one of th
e easiest devices to listen in on. He slid it into his pocket. He understood he was to meet the sheriff at her house tonight, but only after he spent the rest of the day out at the point, painting, waiting, praying that Lucy would show up. He grabbed his portable easel and paints and headed out the door. He loaded the Jeep, forcing himself not to look at the street. “Come on, Duke.”
“Randi, it’s Jess,” Randi heard on her cell phone.
“Hey, Jess. What’s up?”
“First, I’m wondering how you are after the other night.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, right, and you’re ready to run the marathon this week.”
Randi chuckled. “Okay. I’m okay. I’m trying to look at Jordan in a better light. I had a visit from Cal this morning.”
“Cal? What does that cad want?”
“He wants me to testify that he’d be a better parent for his child than Brenda.”
“No way.”
Randi checked the rearview mirror then glanced at the road ahead of her. “That’s basically what I said to him, as well.”
“I want to hear all the details, but I can’t talk long. You need to come to my house tonight. Something major is going on, and Jordan needs our help. Well, actually a little girl needs our help.”
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“You know Jordan was speaking with the sheriff, right?”
“Yeah, and they came to see me at the restaurant, as well.”
“Oh, man. Look—one of the FBI agents is out to get Jordan. The sheriff doesn’t buy it, and he wants to find this little girl ASAP. For her sake as well as to clear Jordan of any wrongdoing.”
Randi’s heart went out to him.
“Anyway, they’re listening to Jordan at his place.”
“They bugged the studio?”
“Not exactly. They have one of those listening devices where they can sit in the car and aim it at the area they want to listen to. It looks kinda like a gun with a minisatellite dish on it. The whole town is in a buzz over it. Jordan’s out at the point painting. We’re hoping they’re going to stop watching him after a few hours and start looking for the girl. Mom gave him her cell phone. She’s going to call him later on this evening and ask him to bring the phone by our place. The FBI can’t listen at our house unless they come closer in on the driveway. Sheriff McKean is coordinating this. Anyway, come to my place tonight.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Great.”
Randi wanted to ask more questions but kept it to one. “Is this all my fault?”
“Huh?”
“I put those pictures on his Web site. I thought it was a beautiful picture of a family’s emotional bond.”
“Randi, this isn’t your fault. Maybe it’s God’s way of helping this little girl. You and Jordan didn’t know she’d been abducted. This could be what saves her and returns her to her family.”
Randi’s eyes filled with tears. She pulled into a store parking lot to get a grip on her own emotions. “Can I call him on your mom’s cell?”
“No, they can listen in on a cell-phone call.”
Randi’s stomach flipped. How could they believe Jordan guilty? How could she?
seventeen
Jordan sensed that the car driving back and forth on the road behind him was probably Agent Wilkes. He forced himself to concentrate on the bluff in the foreground of the painting. He wanted to go to the beach where he’d taken the picture of the child but knew that if he did, the FBI would take him in for questioning again. So he settled on an area one would drive past to get to that beach. Dena’s phone weighed heavily in his pocket. He wasn’t sure why he had it but knew it involved something about the meeting with the sheriff tonight at Dena’s house.
Jordan put down his brush and set it in the jar with thinner. He wiped his hands and grabbed his camera. He clicked off a couple of shots from where he was painting then walked over to the water’s edge and concentrated on the various tidal pools formed from the outgoing tide. Inside them, he found baby shrimp, horseshoe crabs, and minnows. He had no reason to photograph these pools, but it seemed easier to get lost in photography than in painting at the moment. He knelt down and switched his digital to macro settings and worked his way down the beach. Each pool had its own unique characteristics. Two-thirds of the walls around the pool in front of him now were granite rock. The last third was thick, coarse, brown sand. Inside the pool, a row of snails lined a crack in the rock. At the other end of the granite edge, a colony of baby mussels held on to the rock’s edge with their brown, stringy beards. A small starfish wrapped itself around an even smaller baby clam. Just then a baby eel popped out and attempted to take the clam away from the starfish. Jordan clicked off some rapid pictures, hoping to catch the eel in action.
He watched closer as the barnacle on the rock face opened to catch the plankton that was also trapped in the pool. It always amazed him how creative God was when He crafted the various life forms on this earth. Not that he had a heart for barnacles, since they could tear the bottom of a person’s foot when walked on—not to mention the infection that could set in if the wound wasn’t cleaned well. But they served a purpose somehow. He didn’t know what that purpose could be, though, since barnacles were the bane of most boat owners. Jordan smiled and snapped a few more pictures. Then he added some different filters to see the difference they would make on the tidal-pool shots.
Eventually Duke got tired of waiting for him and came moseying down the shoreline, disturbing the tidal pools. Jordan chuckled and took some pictures of his four-legged buddy. He found a small piece of driftwood. “Fetch, Duke.”
Duke lifted his head and watched as the stick landed in the water. Slowly he ambled over to it and picked it up. Basset hounds weren’t known for their speed, and the years had taken their toll on Duke. He still loved to fetch, but one or two tosses were all the old boy could handle.
“Atta boy, Duke.” Jordan gave the dog a hearty rubdown. “At least you still love me.”
Duke slobbered kisses over Jordan. “All right, boy. That’s enough.”
An hour passed before he knew it. Relaxed, he and Duke walked back to his easel. Jordan knew he was boring Agent Wilkes, but there seemed to be some poetic justice involved. Jordan’s smile broadened as he dipped his brush in a blend of color that resembled the rock in the shadow of the bluff.
His mind drifted to Miranda. She was like that rock, hidden in the shadow of her past relationship with Cal. Lord, help her move on and trust me, please.
He hadn’t sensed Agent Wilkes for quite a while. He turned toward the road and glanced up and down. Not seeing anything, he returned to his painting.
A short time later, Dena’s cell phone rang. He checked the display and saw the word Home. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jordan, did you find my cell phone?”
“Yeah, I was going to drop it off later this evening. Need it sooner?”
“Nope. Later is fine.”
“I’ll bring it over as the sun starts to go down.”
“That will be great. Can I add you to our supper list?”
“Do you have enough? Can I bring anything? You know I won’t turn down a home-cooked meal.”
Dena chuckled. “Nah, Wayne will fire up the grill, and I have everything else under control.”
“Thanks for the invite. I’ll see you later.”
“Great. Bye.” Dena hung up the phone.
Jordan hoped Agent Wilkes would get the message. He’d been tempted to use the phone and call Miranda, but it wasn’t his, and he still hadn’t ordered a new service yet. He really needed to do that.
Plus, he wasn’t sure she wanted to talk with him yet. The haunted look in her eyes still caused a shiver to run up and down his spine. Lord, please help her.
Randi wiped the tears from her eyes and drove the rest of the way home. She passed Jordan’s driveway only to see his vehicle wasn’t there. At home, she opened her computer files to the job she was contracted to
do for Jess and the lobstermen co-op she had put together.
Dena had supplied some great photographs to go on the Web site. Randi tweaked the header of the Web page to be a collage of various shots of the lobster industry with a huge, five-pound, steamed lobster on a platter in the center. It made Randi’s stomach rumble just seeing it.
Remembering she’d been too upset to eat much for a few days, she raided the fridge. As she grabbed a lobster roll her mother had left the day before, she remembered the picture she’d put on Jordan’s Web site. The FBI had removed it, but she had her own copy. She opened the picture on the computer and stared at it. She knew exactly which beach Jordan had photographed. Grabbing the sandwich and keys, she headed for the point. As she approached the bend in the road out to the point, she noticed a dark sedan parked on the side of the road. Around the bend, she found Jordan’s Jeep and him sitting at his easel. She pulled over. “Jordan!” she called.
He turned and jumped up from his easel.
“Miranda, what are you doing here?”
“I know where you took that picture. I put it on the Internet. It’s the same picture, Jordan. I blew it up for the facial shot. I’m—”
Jordan held his finger to her lips. A shiver of joy spread through her. He leaned in closer and whispered, “I don’t know if I’m being watched.”
The dark sedan popped into her mind. “There’s a car around the bend.”
“Ah, I’m not surprised. I was hoping Wilkes would be bored by now.”
“I think he’s asleep.”
Jordan laughed. “Come.” He held her by the hand and led her down to the beach. When they were down at the water’s edge, he brushed her hair away from her face and gazed into her eyes. “I do love your eyes.”
Miranda blinked. His own hazel ones captivated her attention. She raised her hand and pulled the elastic band from his hair and wove her fingers through the long, wavy strands. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to do that ever since I’ve met you?”
Jordan held her tighter. “I love you. I’m sorry about what is happening. But, trust me, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Trespassed Hearts Page 13