I stare down at my hands. I am doing terrible at my people skills.
“So…why didn’t the hospital call Lauren, if you live a half hour away?”
“I’m Grandma’s emergency contact,” he says. “I mean, Lauren and Grandma are close, but I think Grandma feels guilty about the fact that her daughter gave me up for adoption, so we spend a fair amount of time together. Does that make me sound like a loser?”
“No, of course not.”
“I think she’s hoping I’ll hook up with one of her church friend’s daughters,” he says, shaking his head. He adjusts his sunglasses. “I’m sorry if this is too personal again, but isn’t your lack of religion an issue with Lauren’s Christianity?”
“Apparently, it is,” I mutter.
“Why don’t you believe in God?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense. An all-powerful, benevolent god would not allow the things to happen that I have seen with my own two eyes. The murder we’re working on right now was clearly done by a religious nut—how can you tell me that there’s any Holy Spirit in him?”
Peter smiles. “It’s a good point, though not everyone who says God’s name is a true Christian. I don’t think the same as you because I’ve felt God’s Spirit inside of me, but I’m sure God has a plan for you. However, I would like to say that my relationship with God has helped my relationship with everyone else in my life. Thinking about that might help with your issues with Lauren.”
“I don’t have a relationship with any god, so I don’t see how that would help me.”
“God loves us despite our flaws—and we all have some major ones. Our sins are like spitting in God’s face, but He still loves us. So, you should love Lauren despite her faults and love her without expectations. That way…you’ll be loving her like she is, not as you want her to be.”
I uncross my arms. “That’s not bad advice. It’s not the easiest to put into practice, though.”
“Well, just practice it every day,” he says. “Maybe at some point you won’t need to practice because it will come to you naturally.”
I lean to my right to look at Lauren in the hospital room. She is beautiful, certainly, but her face expresses every emotion she feels—compassion, concern, empathy, sadness. And no matter what she’s feeling, the love that churns inside her is expressed with every breath she takes. She is the only woman that I want to wake up with. I want to reach under the covers of our bed and grasp her hand until the day I die.
She looks up and catches my eye. When she smiles, I know my face must reflect more love than I could ever express to anyone else. Our faces are mirror images of each other and I want these feelings to reflect forever.
Chapter Eleven
Lauren
When Tobias and I return to the police station, everyone is staring at their computers, watching their copies of the kidnap video, hoping to find something in the video that will reveal where Mary is or if she dropped any hints in the words she used to tell the kidnapper’s message. I doubt they’ll find anything because although I admire Mary greatly for her music, she has never seemed intelligent enough to drop hints in a video, and her kidnapper does seem intelligent enough to be able to figure out if there was anything in the video that would indicate where they are or who he is.
“Should we go and ask all of the churches to burn their idols?” Romano asks Jack Hamlin, his new partner.
“You didn’t grow up going to church, did you?” Hamlin asks. “They don’t do anything they don’t want to do.”
“Yes, I did go to church and my congregation would have done anything to save a life,” Romano argues.
Tobias and I sit down at our desks. He rolls his chair over to me.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Even if the churches burn all their idols, the kidnapper could still kill Mary and we know from his last victim that it won’t be a pleasant murder.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “This guy is hard to profile. He’s either so crazy that he doesn’t have a core personality or he’s as sane as a ritualistic murderer can be and he’s doing everything to protect his ritual—including poisoning Jackson. I hope Jackson is okay—”
“Hey!” a young police officer in uniform runs into the room. “There are mobs gathering outside the churches. Half of them are demanding that the churches get rid of their Jesus idols and the other half are insisting that Jesus will take care of Mary, but He’ll be angered if His image is burned.”
Tobias stands up. “Okay, we need people on the streets, watching over those churches. When people gather in large groups—especially two groups who oppose each other—it just leads to chaos and violence. Everyone who isn’t a detective needs to get out there and try to keep the peace.”
There’s a scuffle of chairs scraping against the floor as several of the police officers leave. Tobias sits back down.
“This city is going to Hell even faster than it was before,” he mutters.
One of the police officers stops by his desk. “Detective Rodriguez, someone just called on the tip line and said that we should check out Riverbone High School yearbook in Detroit, year 2014 on page twenty-two,” he says. “I was initially going to ignore it, but since you’re here and the tip was so specific, I thought I should tell you before I go.”
“Thanks,” Tobias says, finding the school’s webpage on his computer. “It’s probably nothing, but I’ll check it out.”
As the police officer walks away, Tobias picks up the phone and dials the school’s number. He scrunches up his nose and makes faces at me until someone at the school picks up. His face changes to stoic professionalism.
“Hello, this is Detective Rodriguez from the Detroit police. This is going to seem random, but could you send over a photocopy or even just a photo of a page in one of your old yearbooks? Yeah. 2014, page twenty-two. Thanks.”
Tobias tugs on his dark hair as he states his e-mail address for the school to send the photocopy. He is truly a beautiful man, though I don’t think he knows it. I don’t know how he can’t believe in God when we found each other and we were surely saved by a miracle when the PVP Killer nearly ended our lives. It just seems too good and perfect for it all to be created by random coincidences.
“Thank you so much,” Tobias finishes, hanging up. “All right, they sent the page over, so let’s see if this tip has anything worthwhile or if it’s just a high school kid yanking our chain.”
I roll my chair over to his desk as the photocopy flashes onto the screen.
“Wait,” I say, leaning closer to the monitor. It’s a photo of the prom king and queen, and the boy is kissing the girl’s cheek. “Is that Mary?”
The girl is slightly chubbier than Mary is, wearing a sleeveless pink prom dress, but she has the same baby blue eyes and blond hair. The guy has short black hair and wears a suit and tie.
“Why do you think the person who left the tip thought it was important for us to see Mary’s prom photo?”
Tobias taps the caption of the photo.
The prom queen (Mary Fitzgerald) delivered a heartwarming message about friendship and youth beside her king (Jackson Belamonte).
Now that I look more closely at the boy, I can see the resemblance to Jackson. Jackson and Mary—prom king and queen?
“Are you kidding me?” I blurt.
Tobias shakes his head. “It looks like Mr. Belamonte has been hiding a lot from us. I think it’s a good time to see how he’s doing at the hospital.”
Chapter Twelve
Tobias
According to the doctor, Jackson’s health has plummeted and he doesn’t have long. This should make me feel more compassionate, but it’s hard to feel compassion when there’s a teenager who went missing after a maniac left a corpse on a cross in a church. There’s not a lot of room for compassion when I’m stressed and on edge.
I shove a printout of the prom photo in front of Jackson.
“Did you forget to tell me that you and Mary went to prom together?” I demand.
“Did that slip your mind when I was asking questions about what your relationship was with her and how you had her phone number?”
He stares at the piece of paper. His face is stark white and his eyes seem to have lost their light.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “We dated for the last two years of high school.”
“The last two years?” I hiss. “Are you kidding me? And you didn’t mention that?”
Lauren grips my shoulder, trying to signal me to lighten up. I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t do much good.
“We broke up the summer after our senior year when some guy at her camp converted her into a Jesus freak,” Jackson says, his voice dull. “We don’t have any relationship now. I truly did get her cell number from the Seven Servants of God spreading it everywhere. I didn’t think it was pertinent to the case, so I didn’t mention it.”
“How can I possibly believe you now?” I ask. “Everywhere I turn, clues lead back to you. I might as well save my time and sit here because I’m sure another one of your secrets will pop up soon enough.”
“Why would I poison myself?” Jackson challenges, some of his petulance returning.
“Because you felt guilty. Because you knew we were closing in. Hell, for all I know, that poison was meant for Mary and you drank it on accident.”
He grabs my arm with speed I didn’t expect and a grip that must drain all of his energy.
“I love Mary,” he growls. “I would never hurt her.”
“You write blog posts all of the time that condemn her and—”
“The woman she pretends to be now is not the Mary I know.” He lets go of my arm. “She used to be really different. I hoped that by criticizing her, she would return to who she used to be, but…I realize now I was wrong. I should have just let her go. Don’t let me die being seen as a murderer and kidnapper. Solve this case and find Mary.”
Lauren touches my arm. “Tobias, come on. He’s dying…and I think he’s telling the truth. The killer is meticulous. He wouldn’t make it so easy for us to find him.”
I step away from her and walk out of the room. Lauren is whispering reassurances to Jackson. I keep going down the hallway until I reach the elevators. As I press the up button, Lauren reaches me.
“We should go over all of our facts again. I have a copy of the medical report at my apartment. Do you want to spend the night?” I ask, turning to her. “We could order in some Chinese food.”
“I think it’s best if I don’t go over to your apartment,” she says. The elevator doors open and I step in. She doesn’t. “I’m going to go see my grandma. I’ll see you tomorrow at the station.”
The doors close, locking me inside. I should send the elevator back up, reach out, apologize, tell her that I love her, but I feel like I would be making the same mistake as Jackson: it would be loving her to a suffocating amount. I just need to give her some space. Whatever’s wrong between us, it will all be better after this case closes.
Chapter Thirteen
Lauren
Grandma is doing a lot better now, sitting up and trying to complete a Sudoku puzzle. She’s never really been good at it—there’s mostly just a mess of eraser markings and half of the boxes are filled with more than one number, question marks everywhere.
Then again, that’s how I feel about my life: half of it is badly erased and the other half is just chaotic confusion.
As I sit in the chair beside her hospital bed, she puts the book of puzzles down.
“Lauren,” she says. “You look upset.”
I force a smile. “How about now? Do I still look upset?”
“Yes,” she says. “It’s those Williams eyes. Now, your mother and I could hide emotion like soldiers, but your father seeped emotion all of the time. God bless them both.”
I bow my head, pressing my two clasped hands in front of my mouth as if I’m praying, but I’m not. I’m at a loss of words. I wouldn’t even know where to start—to ask for guidance? To ask for patience? To actually offer gratitude for once?
“Where’s Peter?” I ask.
“Oh, he just left a few minutes ago. He said he needed to work on a bed frame piece that a customer requested. That boy works way too much,” she says. “But don’t try to avoid the conversation. What’s wrong?”
“It’s just Tobias,” I say.
“Just Tobias?” she teases. “I don’t think that’s a way to talk about your boyfriend.”
“He doesn’t believe in God,” I say. “Do you think our relationship can survive when we see the world that differently?”
“I think you should stick to dating Christians,” she says, frowning. “How can you possibly understand each other when he doesn’t believe in the sacrifice that Jesus made?”
“But maybe together we could learn from each other,” I argue. “I could tell him about God and he could explain to me why he doesn’t believe. Didn’t Jesus dine with the worst sinners?”
“Jesus also walked on water. We weren’t meant to do everything He did. Lauren, sweetie, nonbelievers aren’t like us. God changes our lives in ways they can’t even imagine. It’s like if you had sight and he didn’t—”
“Peter doesn’t have sight and I’m sure he can love someone with sight just fine,” I say.
“I…I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. “I just mean…it would be hard.”
“I don’t mind hard,” I say. “I’m just wary about things being impossible.”
“Detective Williams?” a female voice asks. I turn to the doorway to see a nurse. “Mr. Belamonte wishes to have a word with you.”
“Uh, I’ll be right there,” I say, standing up. I turn back to Grandma. “I’m glad you’re doing well. I’ll be right back.”
As I walk from my grandma’s room to Jackson’s, I can’t help but wonder about the people who pass me by. Is the doctor Christian? Jewish? Buddhist? What about this patient, who is old and frail, having lived long enough to see all of the changes in the world and know if it’s more of a miracle or a disaster? Does she expect to die and go to Heaven? To be reincarnated? To become nothingness?
As I step into Jackson’s room, I wonder the same thing—except I know he’s heading to his death sooner than anybody else I’ve seen. In the next couple of days, he will know exactly what happens after a human’s final breath.
“Hello, Jackson,” I say, stepping up to the footboard of the hospital bed. “The nurse said you wanted to talk to me.”
“I thought of…one more thing,” he says, struggling to inhale enough breath to speak. “It’s probably not…important, but I figured I should…tell one of you before I…expire.”
I want to say something reassuring like he’s not going to die, but we would both know I’m lying and he would consider it a huge insult for me to lie to his face. “Okay.”
“Mary contacted me a…couple days before she was…taken,” he says. “She told me that I n-needed to…to change my ways, or more desperate measures would need to…to occur in order to save me. I think…it makes me think, that the Seven Servants of God…got to her, and they were trying to…get her to join their group. I know they stopped…protesting at her concerts…so maybe…she started joining them, and backed out. You have to…you have to save her. I just want her to know…”
His eyes close and a second later his heart monitor begins to beep frantically. I look over at it to see his ECG lead flatlining. Doctors and nurses rush in, and I instinctively back out of the room. As I get one last glimpse of Jackson, I think I see a tiny wisp of light drift out of his chest while the doctors and nurses are trying to bring him back to life, but a second later, I realize it must be a reflection off of the metal in the room.
If souls existed, someone would have seen it before me.
Chapter Fourteen
Tobias
It’s the end of the first day since the kidnapper threatened to kill Mary. As I drive through the streets, I see a couple of churches piling their Jesus idols out onto the sidewalk. It’s a s
trange sight to see—I watch one old woman grasping onto a figure of Jesus, tears in her eyes, and then placing it as carefully as possible on the cement. You’d think the churches were giving up their own children as sacrifices in order to please some angry god.
I finally stop in front of a white church building. A handful of people are bringing out likenesses of Jesus and placing them in metal barrels. As I get out, I notice that one large idol of Jesus’ crucifixion lies behind the barrels.
“We plan to take that one outside of Detroit to burn,” a man in a plaid shirt tells me.
“Why do we have to burn it if we’re taking it outside of Detroit?” a blonde woman next to him challenges. “You really think that this murderer is keeping watch outside of the city?”
“I think I’m not taking any chances when he has a poor, young woman in his grasp,” the man counters. The two notice me eavesdropping, and the man's eyes narrow in suspicion. I glance away. The last thing the police station needs is tips about a man hanging outside of churches that mysteriously sound like descriptions of me.
That's when I see Peter.
He's sitting at a bus stop, his black cane between his legs, and his head resting on the palm of his hand as he leans on the bench's armrest. I walk over toward him, hoping it will look like I was waiting for him this whole time.
“Hey, Peter.”
His head turns toward me. “Tobias?”
“Yeah.” He must have recognized my voice. I've never really known a blind person, but it's really unnerving and humbling at the same time. It reminds me of what I have to lose. It reminds me that everything I see every day—things I don't even notice anymore, like the color of cars or the facial features of strangers—would be a miracle to see for someone who's blind.
“What are doing here?” he asks. "Are you waiting for the bus too?"
Voice of the Spirit (A Trinity of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Page 6