by Nancy Moser
Jinko shook his head, incredulous. “I am not going to go into the roots of my name. This is neither the time nor the place.” He pointed the gun at Cal. “Now. Where are the coins?”
Annie's insides churned and threatened to do something nasty. Amid all the talk, all the tension, one word kept coming to mind: Avi! All she could think about was their daughter up in her cubby. Stay there, sweet-apple! Stay there. Lordy help her stay put and keep quiet.
Was it proper to thank God for her ability to come up with the lie about the room belonging to a stepdaughter? The lie had been pure instinct—a mothers instinct to protect her child. Lord, forgive me, but keep Avi safe.
She couldn't believe Cal had brought this on. Bragging about something he didn't even have. How stupid. And spending her inheritance on coins when he knew so little about them? When he'd talked about the auction, she'd never imagined…
He was over the top. The fact he would stoop to such a thing made her even more determined for him not to invest in Bailey's restaurant. Bailey was a bad influence, making her husband focus on money and wanting more.
Bailey. She looked at Jered, Baileys son, right here in their kitchen, nonchalantly sitting on their counter like a teenager waiting to be fed a snack.
No, that wasn't quite accurate. She studied him until he looked in her direction, then away. Even though his legs were dangling, his body was tense, his hands gripping then ungripping the edge of the counter. His eyes flitted from Jinko to the floor and back again. Rarely did he look at her or Cal. How had he gotten hooked up with a gun-wielding criminal? What other crimes had they committed together? Obviously Jered's music dream had never panned out. But how had he moved from point A to point B?
Jinko and Cal were rambling on about coins. She knew she should listen, but she couldn't concentrate. How would this end? How could this end when there were no coins? What would appease Jinko and make him leave? She looked around the room, trying to think of any valuables she could offer him. They had a nice set of china that had been her grandmother's, but Jinko would laugh at that. Rightfully so. Antiques were probably not easily turned over for cash.
Cash. Cash would do it. But of that, they had none. So what could she offer them?
She offered up a plea: Father, I'll give up anything to make this go away. Anything!
Jered wanted out of here. He was trying to act casual, act the tough guy, but it was hard. He wasn't in the same class as Jinko. Jinko acted like waving a gun was old hat. He must have done it before. Jered thought of Vasy's comment about the boy who'd disappeared. If Jered had known Jinko had a gun, he wouldn't have come today. He would have left long ago.
But was that the truth? He'd had plenty of nudges to get him to leave Jinko. Plenty of hints of the danger. Plenty of chances. And yet Jered stayed. What was wrong with him?
He rubbed his forehead, then realized it might be taken as a gesture of weakness. He forced his hand back to the edge of the counter. If only he knew what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to act. This was Annie, a woman who'd served him countless burgers and fries, always giving him a cherry in his Coke since the first time he'd asked. She was a nice lady. Why'd that Cal guy have to belong to her?
Speaking of… He wasn't impressed with Cal. He reminded Jered of his dad, all talk and brags and acting like a big shot. Served him right to get in trouble for it.
But what Jered didn't get was why Jinko was hanging around. Why not just grab the coins Cal had bought at the auction and take off? Didn't every minute they spent in the house increase the chances of getting caught? If he could get Jinko alone, he might risk asking him that same question. Might. Maybe.
He wouldn't have to.
“Here's what I want you to do,” Jinko said to Cal. “I want you to call up your friend who does have the Barber collection and tell him what you bought for him. Invite him over and tell him to bring the collection with him, saying, as partial payment, you want to witness him popping those last three babies in their proper place. Then we'll help ourselves and be on our way.”
“I don't want you messing with Scott, too.”
Jinko extended the gun at arm's length, aiming at Cal. Then Jinko cocked his head. “No, this is better,” and moved the aim toward Annie. “I've heard the most powerful threats are not made toward ourselves, but toward those we love. Am I right?”
Cal's eyebrows nearly touched. He extended a hand. “Put it down. Don't point it at her—at anyone, okay?”
“That's up to you.”
“I'll call him. I'll call Scott.”
Jinko lowered the gun. “Do it.”
Cal's eyes wouldn't focus on the small typeface in the phone book, and he'd left his reading glasses in the truck. Was that a three or an eight?
“If you'll excuse my pun—what's the holdup?” Jinko asked.
“I…I can't read the small print.”
“Jered, hop down and help the man.”
Jered did as he was told and dialed the number, handing the receiver to Cal.
“No funny stuff. Keep it light. One friend helping another.”
Cal cleared his throat and wished his heart would stop ricocheting off the wall of his chest. He tried taking some deep breaths, hoping his voice wouldn't sound stressed.
The phone rang and rang. And rang. “No one answers.”
“Wait for the answering machine to pick up. Everyone has an answering machine.”
That wasn't true. Cal knew quite a few people who hated the things and had shut them off. The phone kept ringing. Cal shook his head.
Jinko grabbed the phone away and listened himself. “We'll keep trying. You'll call every five minutes.”
“It's coming up on nighttime. A lot of people go out Saturday night.”
“Yeah,” Jered said. “On Saturday nights it gets really busy at the restaurant. We—”
Jinko's glare cut him off.
Jered looked to the floor.
Restaurant? Jered worked at a restaurant? With Jinko? It couldn't be in Steadfast, that's for sure. So where? In nearby Winstead? Morrow Grove? Or maybe Eldora? If Cai had a chance to talk to Jered alone, maybe he could find out.
But then what? What if he did know where they worked? Cal's mind couldn't focus.
But apparently Annie's could. “What do you do at the restau-rant:
“Enough of that.” Jinko stepped between them to stop any further conversation. “Be quiet so Cal can call again.” He motioned to Cal. “Dial.”
Cal wasn't sure whether he hoped Scott would be home or not. Everything was getting way too complicated.
He had the awful feeling it was only the beginning.
Avi had been holding her breath. She let it out, then took another one as quietly as she could. Her heart pounded. Bad men were in her house! They had a gun! And they had her parents!
She curled onto the pillows scattered over the floor of her cubby. She'd heard the clomp-clomp of the bad man's shoes as he came up the stairs looking to see if anyone else was at home. She heard him come into her parents' closet. She was glad the door to her cubby was hidden by her mama's dresses and not her daddy's shorter shirts.
She remembered Mama talking about trading the clothes around in the closet so Avi wouldn't have to deal with them, but Avi had said she didn't mind parting the dresses to get to her special place. It was kind of like parting the clothes to get to the magical land through the wardrobe in her Narnia books. Parting dresses was much more exciting than simply opening the little door and climbing in.
Her daddy and a man were talking about coins in the kitchen below. She had a jar full of coins on her dresser she was saving for her parents' and Grandpa's Christmas presents, but the bad men could have all of it, if only they'd leave her family alone.
Mama had lied about her, saying she was a stepdaughter gone to stay with her daddy's first wife. At first she hadn't understood and had even wondered if Daddy had a first wife he hadn't told her about. After all, he'd kept Grandpa a secret. But then she fig
ured out that the lie her mother told had probably saved her from being found. That made her feel better about everything. If Mama would lie for her— and Mama hated lying—then Avi knew she'd do anything to keep her safe. She would protect—
Avi noticed the corner of a book hiding between the door wall and the stack of pillows. She pulled it out. It was Mama's pocket Bible. She'd seen her reading it often—but always when her daddy was gone. Nothing had been said, but Avi understood it was safer to do God-things beyond her Daddy's knowing.
It made her sad, but she went along, though sometimes she forgot and sang a God-song or said something she'd learned at Sunday school in her daddy's presence. At such times she'd see his face pinch up, but she also noticed he wasn't as hard on her as he was on Mama about such things. There were advantages to being Daddy's little girl.
Mama had been hiding her Bible in the cubby a long time and had asked Avi if it was okay. It made her feel kind of special that Mama trusted this special book to her special place. At least she had another book to read.
She got comfy and opened the pages.
Merry hung up her coat behind the library counter. “Thanks so much for filling in for me, Harold.”
“How did rehearsal go?”
“The fuzzy caps for the kids playing the sheep kept slipping down over their faces, and Jimmy Mayer fell into the manger, breaking it, but other than that…”
“Pray for a miracle tomorrow?”
“That might be nice.”
He straightened the stack of bookmarks. “I'll be going then. See you at the pageant.”
Merry settled in and was just changing her mental gears from singing to library business when she suddenly got the notion to call Annie to see how she was feeling. Was she truly sick, or was it stress? Merry wondered how many stomachaches she'd caused Lou over the years.
The phone rang four times until the answering machine picked up. That was odd. If Annie was feeling bad enough to leave rehearsal early, she should be home. Shouldn't she?
Merry would call again later.
Merry, I'm here! Help us, please help us!
Everyone in the kitchen stared at the answering machine on the kitchen desk and listened as Merry left her message: “Hope you're feeling okay. I'll call again later. Bye.”
The click of the disconnection and the subsequent click-whirr of the answering machine were like a knife to Annie's heart. A chance missed. If only—
“I don't know about you,” Jinko said, “but I'm hungry. Who's the cook around here?”
Annie raised a hand. Food soothes the savage beast. Cooking would be good. Cooking might help. Cooking would keep her busy. “What would you like?”
“I defer to you, little lady.” Jinko gave her a bow, which would have looked noble if it weren't for the gun in his hand. “What were you planning to make for dinner before we stopped by?”
Stopped by? She did a mental inventory of her kitchen. Monday was grocery day, and it was only Saturday. “I'd planned on ordering pizza.”
“Yeah. Pizza would be good,” Cal said.
“I'll take pizza,” Jered said.
Jinko rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure. Let's invite a stranger into the house so you two can pass him a note or yell for help. Nix the pizza. What else do you have?”
She pushed back from the table, then stopped. Should she have asked permission? Jinko did tense up. Annie pointed at the refrigerator. “I need to look in the fridge and pantry.” He motioned for her to move. She took a look. “How about chili? I make a great chili. And I could make some cinnamon rolls—not from scratch, but I could take some tube-rolls and add brown sugar and cinnamon and—”
Jinko held up a hand. “I don't need the recipe. Chili and rolls it is. Go for it. And plenty of it. I get mean when I'm hungry.” He grinned and caressed the gun. “And you don't want to see me mean.”
Avi smelled cinnamon rolls. Her stomach growled, but how could her mama get her some food without the men seeing? Would Mama get her some food? Or had they forgotten about her?
She turned back to the Bible. She'd flipped through it, reading the verses her mama had highlighted with a yellow pencil. But one stood out in the Psalms. (Avi had mistakenly called them the Palms once in Sunday school, and kids laughed. She'd never make that mistake again.)
She kept reading the verse over and over. She nearly had it memorized: “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings from the wicked who assail mey from my mortal enemies who surround me.”
Her mama called her sweet-apple because she was the apple of her mothers eye. And now, in this Bible, the writer was asking God to keep him like the apple of His eye—God's eye. Was she the apple of God's eye, too? She hoped so.
It was getting cold. There was no heat in the cubby, which was why she didn't usually stay in here long in the winter. She pulled a blanket over her shoulder, picturing it as a wing that God would use to keep her safe. Safe from the wicked men who surrounded her.
She repeated the verse again and tried not to think of cinnamon rolls.
I have to get these to Avi.
While Jinko and Jered ate seconds and thirds of chili and rolls, Annie picked at her food. She was consumed with the desire to check on Avi and get her some food. But even more than that, she was tortured by the thought that their daughter was afraid. She ached to give her a hug.
Annie suddenly got an idea and was immediately glad it was winter and she was wearing her bulky green sweater. In one motion she stood and grabbed the bread basket. “I'll get us more rolls.” Over at the counter she tucked two rolls under her sweater, blousing it over her hips, forming an inward gutter all around. She took a deep breath and brought the basket to the table. “Excuse me, but I need to go to the bathroom.”
Jinko looked up from his chili. “Where is it?”
“Upstairs.”
“There's no bathroom down here?”
She shrugged. “Its an old house.”
Jinko held up a finger, delaying her. “Jered, go upstairs and bring down any phones.” He blinked and turned to Cal. “You have a computer anywhere besides in here?”
“No.”
“Cell phones?”
Cal pointed to his jacket.
Jinko nodded to Jered and he retrieved it. “Now go get any other phones. Then stand at the bottom of the stairs guarding the front door and wait for her.”
Jered took a roll with him. “Let's go.”
Annie let Jered go up first. He came down with the phone from their bedroom. “Is this the only one?”
She nodded.
He sat on the bottom step while she went up. She tried not to run, but once in the master bedroom, she scurried to the closet. She tapped on the cubby door, then opened it. Avi was wrapped like a cocoon, her eyes wide.
“Mama!”
Annie put a finger to her lips and pulled out the rolls. Avi took them eagerly. “You stay in here no matter what, okay? They're bad men, but we'll be okay. They doht know you're here.”
Avi nodded. “It's cold.”
Annie's heart broke at what her daughter had to suffer. She grabbed her pink quilted robe from a hanger, one of Cal's bulkiest sweaters, and a pair of sweatpants. Then her fuzzy slippers and a pair of socks. All would be way too big for Avi, but they were warm.
Annie glanced toward the door. Time was up. “Do you have water?”
Avi nodded. “My sipper's here.”
“Good. Now stay put. I'll be back.” She reached in and hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.
As Annie backed out, Avi held out the pocket Bible. “I found it here. I've been reading it.”
Annies throat tightened, and she thanked God for giving her daughter comfort from a hidden Bible.
“Here,” Avi said. “You take it.”
“No, you can keep—”
Avi shook her head adamantly. “No, Mama. You take it.”
The certainty in Avi's voice made her stop the argument. Annie took the Bible. As she closed th
e door, Avi whispered, “I'm praying, Mama.”
Annie held back tears. She stuck the Bible into the back waistband of her jeans. Then she detoured to the master bath, flushed, and ran the water. She looked at her reflection and was surprised not to see fear. Not fear. Determination. These men would not win. They would not. They would not harm her family.
“What took you so long?” Jinko asked.
Annie sat on her chair. “I'm sorry, but it takes as long as it takes.”
Cal searched his wife's face for a clue as to what she'd done upstairs. Was Avi up there? Had she seen her? Or had Annie truly gone to the bathroom?
Their eyes met and she offered him the slightest nod. Then a wink. Cal wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but he was encouraged. She seemed to have things under control.
No thanks to you.
“Jered, help clear the table.”
He didn't argue but took dishes to the counter where Annie rinsed them.
“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate the help.”
Jered was embarrassed to feel himself blush. You'd think he'd never gotten a compliment before.
Actually…that wasn't far from the truth. His dad wasn't big on “Thank you's” or “Attaboy's.” But he was big on “You missed a spot” and “Can't you move faster?” Sometimes Jered liked to play psychologist and think about where he'd be right now if his dad had said thank you once in a while. Been nicer. Cared about anything other than his stupid Bon Vivant.
On a trip back to the table he looked at Jinko. He owned a restaurant, too. From what Jered could see it had tons more customers than Bon Vivant ever had, but Jinko wasn't obsessed with it. Jinko thought of other things.
Like stealing.
Okay. So Jinko wasn't perfect either. At least he paid Jered some attention. At least he understood Jered's dream of a music career and was doing something to help with it.
He stopped in midstep as a thought hit him. Or was he doing anything?
Jinko noticed him standing there. “What's with you, kid? Get zapped by a stun gun?”
Jered shook his head. Now was not the time or place to ask Jinko about the record producer and exactly when Jered was going to get an audition. Besides, Jinko would probably answer how he always answered: Soon, kid, soon.