Greater Love

by Robert Whitlow

  Zach released me and I reached into the car for my purse. After I blew my nose, I looked at Zach. I wanted to return to the safety I had felt in his arms, but the moment had passed.

  “Thanks for coming,” I said.

  “I’m sorry this happened,” he said with a fiery look in his eyes. “If I’d been at your office—”

  I stared at him for a second, realizing that if he’d encountered the man who tried to break into the office, Zach would have tried to break him in two.

  “I’m okay,” I said, “but it scared me.”

  “What did the police find?”

  “Nothing. The lock was slightly damaged; however, it wasn’t strong enough to keep out someone determined to get in. If I’d not gone into the hall to take a break, I wouldn’t have realized what was going on. I screamed, and he ran.”

  I shuddered.

  “Did you see him well enough to give the police a description?”

  “No. You always hear people say things like this happen fast. It’s true. I couldn’t tell you anything about his face. He was wearing a baseball cap, dark clothes, and white surgical gloves. That’s about it. One of the officers recommended we install a bigger lock and an alarm system.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I called Maggie, but I had to leave a message. I didn’t phone Julie. She has enough to worry about with her father.”

  “Are you ready to go home?”

  “If you mean Powell Station, the answer is yes,” I said. “However, that’s not an option. If you could follow me to Mrs. Fairmont’s house, that would be great.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Zach mounted his motorcycle and followed me the short distance I’d walked to work the previous summer. Now, the thought of being alone on the streets brought a return of fear. I checked in the rearview mirror. Zach was directly behind me. We reached Mrs. Fairmont’s house and I pulled into the single garage. Zach stopped behind me.

  “Do you want me to see you safely inside?” he asked.

  “Yes. I know there wasn’t anything personal about the man at the office, but I’m having trouble convincing myself.”

  When I unlocked the door, we were greeted by the excited antics of Flip. Seeing the little dog turn in circles and wiggle every muscle in his body in welcome helped me return to a sense of normal. I leaned over and vigorously scratched him.

  “I’m going to look around the house,” Zach said.

  “Okay.”

  I took Flip into the den and, while holding him in my lap, told him about my visit with Mrs. Fairmont at the hospital.

  “She’s going to come home,” I said, stroking the dog’s back. “I’m just not sure when.”

  I could hear Zach’s footsteps on the second floor. There were windows in the den that faced the veranda and the courtyard below. Usually, I didn’t give them a second thought. Tonight, they looked like dark, unseeing eyes. I reminded myself that no one could see inside the house unless they were on Mrs. Fairmont’s property. Zach returned from his mission.

  “Everything looks fine,” he said. “You did a good job making your bed and the bathroom was clean. Do you always hang up your towel so it’s exactly level on the hook?”

  “Yes, it dries evenly that way,” I said, smiling.

  “I don’t have that problem. I only use a towel once before I wash it.”

  Zach stood beside Mrs. Fairmont’s chair.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m going to activate the burglar alarm. Mrs. Fairmont rarely uses it, but I’d feel better about it tonight.”

  I placed Flip on the floor and went to the closet that contained the control panel. I punched in the numbers to activate the system, but the indicator light stayed red when it should have turned to green. I entered the numbers more slowly with the same result.

  “Something’s wrong with it,” I said.

  “Operator error?” Zach asked.

  “Probably.”

  I checked the instruction sheet on top of the unit and repeated the process without success.

  “I’m missing a step but can’t remember what it is.”

  “Let me see the manual.”

  I handed it to Zach. As he slowly turned the pages, I thought again how I’d felt when he hugged me, and, I had to admit, I hugged back.

  “Let’s try this,” he said.

  He punched in the same numbers I’d entered and flipped a couple of switches. The light stayed red. Flip, who was close to my feet, suddenly started barking and ran toward the foyer. I left Zach and followed. The dog was directly in front of the door, yapping furiously.

  “What is it, boy?” I asked.

  I glanced through the side glass and didn’t see anyone. I opened the door and stood in the doorway. Flip joined me and continued barking. A pair of squirrels scurried up a nearby tree. I glanced down at him.

  “Squirrels have a right to be here,” I said, trying to sound more nonchalant than I felt.

  I stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it.

  “It has me stumped,” Zach said from right behind me.

  I screamed and twirled around.

  “Why did you sneak up on me?” I demanded.

  “I didn’t sneak up on you,” Zach replied calmly. “I followed you in here from the place you left me.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t shake the jumpy feeling that came over me after the attempted break-in.”

  “Was there anything unusual going on outside?”

  “Nothing except a pair of squirrels playing tag.”

  Zach eyed me for a moment. “Do you think you’re going to be okay here alone?”

  “Of course,” I answered, but my heart continued to beat at a rapid pace. “I’ll have Flip for protection.”

  “He’s as jumpy as you are. I’ll be glad to sleep on the sofa in the den.”

  Normally, I would have instantly turned down the offer, but in my present state of mind I hesitated.

  “You didn’t bring a suitcase,” I replied.

  “Which doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t change into pajamas anyway. Look, I can stretch out on the sofa and be fine. You know what the Bible says about the sleep of the righteous.”

  “The sleep of the righteous is sweet,” I said.

  “That describes me,” he replied with a smile. “And to prove it, let me do a good deed so you can rest. You’ll be fine tomorrow night, but considering what you’ve been through the past few hours, there’s nothing wrong in having a little extra security.”

  I tried to think how my parents would respond to Zach’s invitation. Mama would say no; Daddy would say yes. It rarely happened, but when I had to pick between my parents, one always won out.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’d like you to stay.”

  20

  Jessie’s plastic bottle of water was gone and, after two days without any food and very little water, life began to lose its grip on her. She’d yelled for help, begged for mercy, and shed a few silent tears. Nothing happened. Footsteps occasionally tapped on the deck above, but no one opened the hatch, even to curse or torment her. Jessie felt abandoned and forgotten.

  She wavered on the brink of unconsciousness. Huddled up against the hull of the ship with the stifling heat pressed like a heavy weight against her chest, she’d even tried to pray. But the mixed-up doses of religion she’d received in random churches and watching Sister Dabney preach didn’t produce much. She ended up muttering to God what she’d cried out for human ears a few hours earlier: “Help, help, help.”

  When the hatch finally creaked open, Jessie couldn’t leave the twilight world she’d slipped into. The first man who shone a flashlight into the hold saw her crumpled form and swore.

  “You guys are idiots!”

  “No, we were following orders.”

  “He didn’t say to kill her, not yet. Get her out of there.”

  “I don’t want to go down there. It stinks.”

  “Get her out or you�
��re going to spend an hour down there yourself.”

  “Tell Nick to do it.”

  “I sent him to shore while you were sacked out taking a nap and should have been checking on the girl.”

  The second man left and then returned to lower a short aluminum ladder into the forward hold. Too small for cargo, the hold was normally used to store supplies such as rope, paint, oil, and tools. To serve as Jessie’s prison it had been cleared of everything. The man lowered the ladder and tied a kerchief around his face.

  “She’d better not be dead,” the first man said. “It smells like death down there.”

  “I heard her a little while ago,” the second man lied. “She’s resting.”

  The second man climbed down the ladder and went over to Jessie. Shining the light on her face, he patted her on the cheek. She moaned softly.

  “She’s all right!” he called up.

  “I want her out of there,” the first man ordered.

  “Get up,” the man ordered Jessie, shaking her shoulders.

  She didn’t move.

  “If she’s too weak, you’re going to have to carry her out,” the first man said.

  “Get up!” the second man repeated, shaking her harder.

  Jessie responded by sliding over onto her side, her mouth gaping open. The first man swore again.

  “I’m coming in.”

  Jessie wasn’t heavy, but she was dead weight. The two men pulled her up the ladder and laid her on the deck in the fading light.

  “Turn the hose on her,” the first man said, “but not too hard.”

  When the water hit Jessie’s face and body, she sputtered and weakly moved her right hand to cover her face.

  “Give her a good dosing,” the first man said. “It won’t wash away all the stink, but it will make it tolerable.”

  Jessie opened her mouth and used her tongue to capture some of the water that ran down the side of her face. The spray from the hose stopped. She rubbed her eyes and saw two figures standing over her. One of them leaned over and placed a water bottle in her hand. She fumbled with the top, too weak to open it.

  “Look at that,” the first man said. “It’s a good thing I came on board to check on you. Unscrew the cap for her and prop her up against the bulkhead.”

  Jessie gratefully received the water from the bottle. After a few swallows her head began to clear.

  “Thank you,” she managed.

  “Are you ready to do as you’re told?” the second man asked. “If not, you’re going back down the ladder.”

  “No, no,” Jessie croaked, shaking her head. “I’ll do what you say.”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” the first man said, nudging her with his foot. “Look at her. She can’t walk across the deck, much less swim for shore. Take her into the utility room. It locks from the outside. Give her another bottle of water and something left over from supper to eat. She can spend the night in there.”

  I TOOK FLIP DOWNSTAIRS. BEFORE GOING INTO MY APARTMENT, I checked the windows I’d previously inspected with Jessie. The entire time I’d lived with Mrs. Fairmont I’d never considered the windows potential avenues for intruders, but within the past forty-eight hours, they’d become chinks in the house’s armor.

  The window farthest from my apartment provided the least light during the day because a bush on that end of the house covered most of the glass. A storage shelf in front of the window made it difficult to see the latch. I’d tried to make sure it was locked when Jessie asked me to do so, but now I had doubts. I dragged a chair to a spot in front of the shelf and stood on it. The latch appeared solid until I looked closer and saw it was broken. I leaned forward and pushed on the window, but it didn’t budge. It was either painted shut or stuck due to warping of the wood after countless years of nonuse. As I lowered my hands I thought I saw the bush move slightly. Cold chills raced down my body. I stared intently into the darkness but couldn’t detect any further movement. Zach was right. I was way too jumpy to be alone.

  Returning to my apartment, I found the metal bar Mrs. Fairmont had kept wedged under the handle of the French doors before I moved in. I’d never used the bar because it was so ugly and I didn’t want to trip over it in the night. Tonight, I lodged it firmly in place. Now no one could get into my bedroom without shattering the glass. As I got ready for bed, my nervousness remained. I hated how I felt but held on to Zach’s assurance that I would be better within twenty-four hours. Depositing Flip at the foot of my mattress, I crawled under the sheet. Instead of closing my eyes, I stared at the ceiling, much as I did as a little girl who believed keeping my eyes open would actually help me go to sleep faster. The next thing I was aware of was the first hint of dawn as faint light crept into my room.

  It took me a couple of seconds to remember the attempted break-in. When I did, I sat up in bed, startling Flip and causing him to bark. I looked to my right. The metal bar guarding the French doors was still in place. The events of the previous evening flooded through my mind, and the violation I’d felt then, while still present, wasn’t as overwhelming.

  I got up, dressed in my running clothes, and went upstairs. I wasn’t sure whether I should check on Zach but couldn’t resist peeking into the den. He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly open but not snoring. I smiled. The sleep of the righteous was sound as well as sweet. Zach didn’t move even when Flip trotted into the room and sniffed all the way down the sofa. Zach’s intentions were good, but he wasn’t much of a light-sleeping night watchman.

  I walked quietly to the front door and opened it. When I did, the siren for the burglar alarm started blaring. I slammed the door shut. Turning around, I encountered a wild-eyed Zach. He saw me and stopped.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I guess you fixed the alarm after I went to bed.”

  “Yeah,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “But I don’t know how to turn it off.”

  An authoritative voice came through a speaker in the hallway near the foyer.

  “Identify yourself.”

  “It’s Tami Taylor, Mrs. Fairmont’s caregiver,” I replied. “The security code is 6700. Sorry for the false alarm. I opened the front door without realizing the system was turned on.”

  “Let us know if we can be of assistance.”

  I turned to Zach. “That’s why Mrs. Fairmont and I never use it. I’ve talked to that guy several times. I’m not sure when he sleeps.”

  “It may be a girl pushing a programmed response.” Zach covered his mouth and yawned. “No one sounds that confident this early in the morning. Were you going out for a run without telling me? What if I’d gotten up and you weren’t in the house?”

  “Would you have gone to my bedroom to check on me?”

  “Yes, if Flip was roaming around the house without you.”

  “Let’s turn off the alarm before it wakes the neighbors.”

  Zach and I went to the closet. I deactivated the system. The house returned to early morning quiet.

  “How did you get the alarm to work?” I asked.

  Zach pointed to a button on the side of the unit. “It had to be reset after we entered wrong data.” He yawned again. “Have a nice run.”

  “Do you want me to start a pot of coffee?”

  Zach rubbed his face that was covered in dark stubble. “Or show me where it is.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  I went to the kitchen and tried to remember how strong Zach liked his coffee. I made it weak for Mrs. Fairmont but chose a darker mix for Zach. He came in while I was measuring it into the pot. He’d pulled together the stray strands of brown hair that had escaped his ponytail during the night.

  “Just press the button, and I’ll take it from there,” he said. “I like it black.”

  I placed an empty cup on the counter. “I don’t feel like a very good hostess.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  The way Zach said the words made me blush. I left the kitchen as the pot began making its first gurgling sounds.

&
nbsp; I thought about Jessie several times while running through the historic district, especially when I reached Forsyth Park. I prayed she’d come to her senses and come back soon. The wisdom of Judge Cannon’s decision not to issue a bench warrant made more sense in the light of a new day. The greatest likelihood for Jessie’s return was a change in her own heart and mind, not the remote possibility a police officer would apprehend her.

  When I returned to the house, Zach was sitting on the veranda with his back to me and a cup of coffee on the wrought-iron table beside him. Wiping my face with a towel, I poured a glass of water and joined him, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

  “Your face is red,” he observed.

  “It’s a run, not a jog. Do you want me to go downstairs?”

  “No, no. I’m impressed. Please stay. Where did you go?”

  I described my route, then said, “I couldn’t get Jessie out of my mind. I know she can take care of herself, but it’s a shame that someone that young is on her own.”

  “Did she ever admit her age?”

  “No, but I had an amazing plea deal worked out with the assistant district attorney. She ruined everything when she took off.”

  He sipped his coffee while I brought him up to date on the case.

  “Yeah, the plea bargain sounds like God’s mercy to Jessie,” Zach agreed when I finished. “We should pray that she’ll come back.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing, even during my run this morning.”

  Before I could respond, Zach stared out at the garden and started talking. The first few words he spoke left me slightly confused since he wasn’t looking at me. Then, I realized he was praying. I bowed my head and closed my eyes. Zach continued talking in a normal tone of voice, asking God to take care of Jessie and work in her life. When I peeked, Zach still had his eyes open. I quickly closed mine. Keeping my eyes closed helped me to concentrate. Apparently, Zach had a better ability than I did to shut out visual distractions. When he stopped praying, there was a moment of silence before he spoke.

  “Tami, do you want to pray?”

  We’d never prayed together, except a brief blessing before a meal. There was something intimate, yet pure, about his offer. I overcame my reluctance and stumbled through a very inarticulate request on behalf of Jessie. I paused for a second, but I didn’t end the prayer. Instead, I pushed aside my self-consciousness and let the deep concern and compassion I felt for Jessie rise to the surface. My words became more heartfelt, and the awkwardness caused by Zach’s presence left. I realized how desperately I needed to pray with someone for the teenage girl. A favorable plea bargain in a criminal case wasn’t Jessie’s greatest need. Every fiber of her silently cried out for a deep, healing, transforming touch from the hand of the God who made her. As I continued praying I couldn’t keep my emotions bottled up. My words were interrupted by tears, as I asked the Lord to have mercy on Jessie. Finally, I sniffled and said, “Amen.” I looked over at Zach.