by J. S. Bailey
He quickly composed himself.
The room became quiet.
Joanna pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Bathroom.”
She slunk up the stairs, throwing a nervous glance over her shoulder, and a door clicked shut moments later.
Randy let out a sigh. “You’ll have to forgive Phil,” he said to both Carly and Bobby. “We’ve had a very long and stressful day, and Carly, I’d love to tell you about it, but that’ll have to wait until we can discuss it somewhere else.”
“I wasn’t aware that I need to be forgiven,” Phil said with a scowl. He popped another piece of lasagna into his mouth, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he chewed.
Carly lifted her eyes to Randy. “So if Bobby isn’t your replacement and he isn’t here to help us, who is he?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him that.”
“I am Randy’s replacement,” Bobby said. “At the church.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” Randy said.
Without warning, Bobby was struck with that now-familiar urge to flee. Go home. You don’t need these people. Charlotte and Jonas miss you. Go to them. Go home. Go home.
Shaking, he stood up and pushed in his chair.
“What are you doing?” Randy asked with a note of surprise in his voice.
“I need to leave,” Bobby said, even though most of his food remained untouched.
Randy checked his black wristwatch and frowned. “What for? We don’t have to be at St. Paul’s for awhile yet.”
“I’m causing too much trouble by being here,” he blurted. “If I leave, everything will go back to normal and you all can be happy again.”
“Come on, Phil’s just being cautious!”
Bobby hardly heard what Randy was saying. He started toward the entryway, feeling the walls closing in upon him. Randy reached out to stop him but Bobby shook him off. “Leave me alone. I’m going home.”
A TINY voice screamed at him inside his head. What are you doing? Get back in there with those nice people and finish your supper!
Bobby strode down the gravel driveway, hands clenched tightly at his sides. He didn’t want to go back to Ohio. He had to go back to Ohio. He wanted to get to know Randy and Phil and Carly better. He had to get away from them before something awful happened.
Shameful tears flowed down his cheeks. God, what was happening to him? He felt like a sheet of paper held in two separate hands that wanted to tear him into pieces.
When he reached the end of the driveway, he would either thumb a ride or walk all the way back to Autumn Ridge, whichever came easier. So what if leaving without a blindfold made him learn the location of the safe house? It wasn’t like he’d tell anyone about it. With Caleb gone, the only person he could talk to was himself.
The crunch of gravel behind him made him turn. Randy was following him at a fast clip. “Bobby, wait up!”
The part of Bobby that wanted to stay halted at the sight of the man, but the other part—the one that knew that getting out of there as fast as possible was the only real option he had—rapidly overcame his hesitation and made him break into a run, never mind that he was as out of shape as an unwound paper clip and would probably faint if he kept at it for long.
Bobby huffed and wheezed and nearly turned an ankle as his foot lost traction in the gravel, and he started to think he was actually covering some ground when bright spots that began to dance in his vision forced him to a stop.
His vision went gray the moment he bent over and put his hands on his knees so he could draw deeper breaths.
Something warm touched his shoulder. A faraway voice said, “Come back inside. Running away isn’t going to solve anything.”
Bobby tried to reply but he wasn’t sure if the words made it out of his mouth or not.
“What?”
“I’ll die if I stay.” Which, of course, was absurd, but right now it made more sense than anything else.
“What makes you think that? Are you okay?”
Bobby shook his head both as an answer and to dispel the grayness. A sliver of driveway emerged from the shadows, and the more he caught his breath the faster the rest of the grayness vanished. “Sorry. I get dizzy spells.” He blinked and straightened. “I used to pass out a lot in gym class.”
Concern etched lines into Randy’s face. “Why?”
“Bad heart, I guess.” He didn’t know why he was telling Randy this when he’d never even mentioned it to Caleb. “But I’ve got to go. Bye.”
His legs started to carry him away again but this time Randy seized him by the arm and didn’t let go. Bobby’s chest grew tight as if he were being squeezed to death in the grip of a giant fist.
“Bobby,” Randy said, his tone firm. “You’re not going to die if you stay with us. In fact, you’re probably safer with us than with anyone else.”
“A crazy guy tried to kill you. Do you really expect me to feel safe?”
“Graham doesn’t know where we are, and he doesn’t even know you exist, so I don’t see why you’re so worried.”
“I’m not worried. I’m afraid.”
A faint smile formed on Randy’s face. “Don’t be. Now I know I frightened you yesterday, and I apologize for that, and I know you’re upset about Phil. But try to understand that as long as you’re with us, you’re with friends.”
“I don’t even know why I’m with you. God knows we’ve got nothing in common.”
“I’m afraid you were ‘with us’ in part the moment you walked in on Trish’s exorcism. And we have more in common than you think.” Randy let go of him and let his arms fall to his sides.
Bobby rubbed his chest, unsure of what to say.
They stood like that for a minute or two. The trees near the house whispered a wordless chorus, and a mild calm came over Bobby once more.
Randy gave a sudden nod as if replying to someone Bobby hadn’t been able to hear. “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m going to go finish that dinner you threw together.”
With that, he turned and retreated to the house, leaving Bobby where he stood.
He stared at the man’s dwindling figure. Randy was neither stupid nor deaf. He had to know Bobby wasn’t following him.
A sea of conflicting thoughts churned in his mind. He looked at the house. Turned. Looked at the place where the driveway vanished around the base of a hill. Took one step in that direction and stopped.
A door slammed behind him as Randy reentered the house.
What should he do? Go home? What would he do there? Sit around reminiscing about his childhood dreams of becoming a superhero and lamenting the fact he’d grown up to be anything but that?
A terrible longing welled up inside him. As a kid he’d dreamed of actively helping strangers in need, but had he ever taken the time to actually do such a thing? No! Sure, he’d saved people he knew whenever a premonition told him they needed saving, but other than that he’d been too caught up with music and his odd jobs and his journey of seeing as much of America as he could. It seemed the only person he’d ever done anything for was one Robert Jackson Roland, and he didn’t even deserve it.
Rescue Man would be ashamed.
He thought about the story Joanna recounted to him. She’d joined a group of drug addicts so she could become part of something, and as a result she’d ended up in a hospital to have the lethal dosage of drugs pumped out of her body. But that didn’t mean all human company could bring about harm. People joined churches. They joined Scouts and sports teams and book clubs. Men and women joined together in their mutual attraction for each other and called it love. It didn’t matter what the uniting factor was. People did not wish to be alone because alone, they were nothing.
Bobby let out a sigh, and the wind riffled his hair in response. “I’m only staying with them because I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said, though he wasn’t sure to whom he spoke. “You hear that?”
&n
bsp; Yes, the whispering trees seemed to tell him.
It was as good a confirmation as any.
LUPE SANCHEZ went to work as usual, though the voice of reason tried to convince her she would be better off staying in bed after her emotional breakdown last night. Randy had even suggested she call in sick, but she had rent to pay and a wedding to save up for. The days of getting paid for staying in bed were over.
When she first came to Oregon, she found work in the kitchens of Mexican restaurants (the easiest jobs she’d been able to find). They didn’t pay much, so when she and Randy began dating she got a job as a server at The Manor House, a high-end restaurant that served seafood to the town’s wealthier citizens. She had been working there for almost five years now and had no intention of quitting.
Today, however, she could hardly focus on her work. Early in her shift Randy had sent her a text via Phil’s phone that she’d discreetly answered when no one was looking: “The best thing in life to hold onto is each other.” Will call you when I can. Love, Randy.
The message made her smile and respond in kind but it wasn’t enough to take her mind off of Graham. Twice she brought people the wrong food, and at one point she accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto a couple’s tablecloth. She apologized profusely while another server helped her clean up, and though the couple assured her everything was okay because accidents happen to everyone sooner or later, she still had a hard time not bursting into tears. Not once in her years of employment had she been this inept. She was losing her grip on herself, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to hold herself together in public.
When the couple had been given a new tablecloth and their plates returned to their respective places, Lupe excused herself and went into the restroom to blow her nose and regain her composure.
What a disaster. Her nerves were unraveling like threads in an old rag, and she knew she would be reprimanded or fired if she made another mistake before the end of her shift.
She had justified coming into work by saying it would be better to stay around people than to be alone at the apartment while Graham and his accomplice were still at large, but every time someone new sat at one of her tables, her suspicions kicked in. At least one person worked with Graham. It had likely been the faceless person sitting out in the parking lot last night watching her apartment. He would have reported to Graham that Randy and another man had shown up at her place at that late hour, and Graham’s suspicions would have been aroused.
Graham knew where she worked. He could send his buddy or accomplice or whatever you wanted to call him to the restaurant to harass her. If only she knew what the man looked like so she could protect herself!
Taking calming breaths, she left the bathroom and went back onto the floor. Well-dressed diners of all ages sat around talking and laughing and cutting into their beer-battered fish and popping butterfly shrimp into their mouths as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Could one of them be spying on her? What if she was attacked in the parking lot when she left to go home?
At least she’d done as Graham asked. She’d told Randy what Graham had instructed her to impart to him, and then some. Sharing the details of what Graham liked to discuss with her might not have been part of his instructions, and the overwhelming fear that he would find out and become enraged nearly made her ill.
The fact that none of the diners paid her special attention didn’t alleviate her fears.
She passed a table where a gray-haired gentleman was pulling a strand of white meat out of a crab leg, and she tensed up even though he looked nothing like Graham. At another table, a thirtyish man in a business suit spoke heatedly into a cell phone about errors he’d found in a profit and loss statement. He flicked his gaze her way when she walked by but didn’t pause in his conversation. Could he be Graham’s accomplice? He could have been speaking into the phone for show just to throw her off his trail.
She shook her head. She was seeing ghosts where they didn’t exist.
Her shift lasted from eleven in the morning to five. When she finally clocked out and gathered her things, she found she was reluctant to leave. Graham could have had his accomplice cut the brake lines on her car for the sheer joy of it. It would have been bold to do such a thing in broad daylight, but Graham was a bold person.
If only Lupe had the courage to share that trait with him.
Trying not to appear timid, she left the restaurant through the employee exit and made her way over to her white Prius, which nestled safely between her manager’s Lexus and a coworker’s Altima. She did a visual sweep of that side of the lot before unlocking her car door, eyeing nothing amiss behind the dozen-odd windshields gleaming in the sun. If someone watched her, she couldn’t see him.
Satisfied she was in no immediate danger, she climbed behind the wheel and started the ignition. She eased backward out of the parking space without trouble, then shifted into drive and tapped experimentally on the brakes a few times before leaving the lot. Yes. Good. Very, very good. Nobody had tried to sabotage her Prius after all.
She drove two blocks before noticing the slip of paper tucked beneath her left wiper blade.
Her heart leapt into her throat. On any other day she would have thought it was a flyer for an upcoming event.
This was not one of those days.
Lupe turned into the nearest gas station and pulled to the edge of the lot, leaving the engine running as she opened the door and snatched the index card-sized paper out from between the blade and the windshield. Blocky handwriting that she didn’t recognize spelled out her name.
She unfolded it and read.
I want to help you. Do you want to be helped? Yes, I think you do. I know what’s been going on, or at least some of it. If you’d like to find out more, meet me at 9:00 tonight in the parking lot at St. Paul’s. I promise I won’t hurt you.
P.S. Don’t tell anyone about this unless you want to get us both killed.
She read the note twice, but despite the sender’s reassurance that he or she meant no harm, a chill went up her spine. The note bore no signature. Was this a trick? The words were vague enough to have meant any number of things, and if it weren’t for the mention of her church and name she would have thought the note had been intended for someone else and placed on her windshield by mistake.
Did she want to be helped? More than anything! To finally be free from Graham’s twisted schemes . . .
She pulled her phone out of her purse so she could call Randy and ask his opinion of the matter, but the note expressly forbade her from doing so. She gritted her teeth. She couldn’t keep isolating herself like this. It had felt so good telling Randy she’d been in contact with Graham all these long months even though Graham had commanded her to do it, and it would feel even better telling him about the note.
But of course! Randy would be at St. Paul’s tonight with the kid he’d just hired, so if anything were to go wrong, he would be there to protect her.
Feeling somewhat relieved, she pulled back out into traffic. Today was a different day from yesterday. She wouldn’t let herself sink as low as she had last night. Randy had said they would get through this together, and that gave her hope. She would take charge of her life once more, and if that meant defying the rules of the old man who had threatened her, then so be it.
She kicked off her shoes as soon as she stepped through her apartment door. Standing for six hours every day could really take its toll on a girl’s feet. Maybe after she had a bite to eat she could go soak in the tub and—
A creaking noise in the direction of the kitchen made her freeze and lose her train of thought, and before the signal from her brain reached her legs telling them to run, Graham Willard stepped into view.
His hands hung limply at his sides as if to imply he didn’t intend to harm her. “It’s about time,” he said, his gaze cool as he stared at her.
“I—I get off work at five,” she stammered, wondering how in the name of heaven he’d gotten in here w
ithout breaking down the door.
“That was twenty minutes ago.”
“I had to stop at a gas station.” No need to tell him she hadn’t gotten any gas.
He took a few steps closer to her. “Do you have plans for this evening?”
Her heart thudded against her ribs. She couldn’t tell him about the instructions in the note. He would start asking too many questions and find out that she planned on being disloyal to him.
“No,” she said, and hoped her face didn’t betray her.
“Is Randy coming over?”
She shook her head. “He just hired someone to replace him up at St. Paul’s and I think he’ll be . . . how do you say it? Showing him the ropes tonight.”
This seemed to pique the old man’s interest. “Why’s he quitting?”
She just shrugged. Graham didn’t need to know how she’d been begging Randy to find a replacement for well over a year. If she’d been a more cynical woman she would have thought Randy was stringing her along all this time, but he’d at least agreed to quit his job so he could focus more of his energy on looking for a new Servant.
“You don’t know why your fiancé is quitting his job,” Graham said. “Is there anything you do know?”
She straightened her shoulders. “I know you’re here for something and have yet to tell me what it is.”
A faint smile played across his features. “Good call. I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“It isn’t here. You’ll have to come with me.”
Be brave, Lupe, said a tiny voice in her head. Be bold!
“I don’t want to come with you.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Graham had been conniving with both her and Randy, but what would stop her from doing the same to him? She would have to be subtle, though, or he would catch on too easily. Maybe he would catch on anyway.
She cast her gaze to the floor in an expression of defeat. “When are we going?”