Breaking Barriers (Love Is Book 8)

by Gail Pallotta

  Ann laid down the book and did as James asked. “What time do you think he’ll show up?”

  James pressed his lips nearly into a straight line. “Ordinarily, I’d say the middle of the night, but this creep is so unpredictable. He came in your unit in broad daylight and left that doll.”

  “You’re right. I wish he’d get it over with.” Ann couldn’t keep her voice from cracking.

  “I know it’s hard to sit and wait, but we’re prepared. Remember, I’ll hold him off, and you’ll dial 911 the instant he breaks in.”

  Ann peered at her phone. “Yes, I will.” After what seemed an eternity, the background chattering from the parking lot waned, and the walkway to the beach quieted. Ann crossed her leg and slung her foot. “What time is it?”

  James glanced at his watch. “Ten o’clock.”

  They sat like statues in the silent room. Crickets chirped, a door slammed, and the lapping of the ocean echoed into the night while Ann waited for terror to strike. Banging hit the wall beside Ann’s front door. She opened her mouth, but words stuck in her dry throat. She peered at James.

  “I’ll check it out,” he whispered.

  Ann put her forefinger on the nine on her cell phone.

  James tip-toed down the short hall and peered through the peephole as something outside crashed. He hopped back.

  Ann sprang up and charged to the kitchen window. She let out a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. It’s Roger Sims, a guy two doors down, emptying his trash in the dumpster. He must’ve bumped into my unit on the way.”

  James returned to the sofa and held his arms open. Ann rushed into them. He pulled her next to him and stroked her hair. “It’s okay. We’ll be all right. We know he’s coming, but he thinks he’s going to surprise you. We have an advantage.”

  “I don’t see how when he’s an experienced, hardened killer crafty enough to avoid getting caught.” Ann blinked back tears. She would not cry. She had to stay brave and hold up her end of the deal. How hard could it be to dial 911?

  James put his finger under her chin and gently turned her to face him. “His luck will run out tonight. He will be arrested.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Something scraped out back. Ann wrapped her arms around her stomach. If only she could make herself disappear. “On the patio. Listen.”

  James leaned forward as more scratching noises wafted inside. He rose and stepped to the sliding glass door. In moments he turned toward Ann and shook his head. “It’s a group of kids coming up from the shore. They’re dragging their beach chairs and coolers.”

  Ann nodded, but she stared at the glass door. It was only a door, but peering at it couldn’t frighten her more if it were a bomb about to explode. “No. There’s someone out there sneaking around. Don’t you see him?”

  James leaned his head closer to the glass. “Maybe. Your next door neighbor turned on his light. You’re right.” James’s voice rose. “There’s a shadow across the illuminated stripe on your patio. It shouldn’t be long now. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” It was all Ann could do to utter the word as she put her finger on the nine.

  The sliding glass door rattled, and Ann punched the numeral.

  “Not yet. Don’t call until he breaks in. We want him in the house in the act. I don’t see him or the shadow now. He must be at the other end of the patio.”

  Ann’s heart pounded against her chest.

  The rattling grew louder, then tapping.

  James tilted his head back. “Is he knocking?”

  “Surely he doesn’t think I’m going to let him in.”

  “Hello. Hello. Anybody home?”

  Ann put her hand over her mouth.

  “That’s not him. He wouldn’t call out to us, would he?” James put his fingers to his lips.

  Ann forced her body off the couch on legs that nearly buckled underneath her and trod to James. The figure moved into the stripe of light from her neighbor’s condo. A pizza delivery boy. “You have the wrong unit,” Ann hollered to the outdoors.

  The young man waved. “Sorry I bothered you.” He disappeared.

  James plunked onto the sofa.

  Ann dropped down next to him, her nerves racing as though someone had turned them to high. “What was the pizza guy doing around back?”

  James swiped beads of sweat off his forehead. “Somebody probably told him to come to the back door, especially if they were watching television and had it turned up high.”

  That made sense, but nothing else did. Ann couldn’t do this, but she had to. She put her hand on James’s arm. “What do you do when you can’t bear something?”

  “You let God take over.” James held her close.

  The truth of his words washed over her like warm, early morning sunshine. If only she could do that. It was harder than it sounded.

  The neighbor’s outdoor spotlight flicked off, and the patio grew black. Ann lifted her head and gazed at the sliding glass door. The only visible objects—the stars and the moon. Leaves rustled slightly from the breeze. The waves lapped the shore in the distance, and an occasional twig cracked. “What time is it now?”

  James checked his watch. “One o’clock in the morning. Let’s not talk in case he’s lurking outside. He must think it’s safe to do his dirty work.”

  Ann nodded, but she might jump out of her skin if The Worm didn’t hurry up.

  James tapped her shoulder and pointed to the front door. The hall light shone on the knob turning.

  Ann could hardly breathe. This was it. They hadn’t even heard him walk up to the condo. No wonder this guy was so hard to catch. He was as elusive as a black cat in the darkest night. Ann kept her gaze glued to the doorknob. It twisted back and forth but made no noise. How did he do that? Suddenly light from the lampposts in the parking lot seeped through a small crack between the door and the doorjamb. Chills ran up Ann’s spine.

  Footsteps so quiet Ann wasn’t sure if she heard or imagined them grew closer and closer. A black, chunky boot appeared in the narrow stream of light shining from the cracked door into the hall. Ann trembled like a leaf in a hurricane.

  James touched her hand, pointed to the phone, and rose up.

  She dialed 911 as a streak of light glinted—a knife. She shook like a blender. The Worm stepped in front of James.

  James tripped him, but The Worm bounded upright.

  “We’re under attack. Condo four in Bayside Villas. Yes, please hurry.” Ann dropped the phone and hopped off the sofa, dodging the knife The Worm slung around like a wild man.

  James grabbed hold of The Worm’s foot, slipped, and fell on the floor.

  The Worm raised the blade over him, but Ann pulled James out of the knife’s reach.

  The Worm plunged it into the rug, yanked it out, and sprang up like an acrobat. “Just give it up. You’re gonna die.” He growled, directing an angry, crazed look at Ann. “You Christians are so dumb.”

  James jumped up, grabbed The Worm’s arm, and shook it. The knife wobbled.

  “You don’t like the knife. I gotta gun.” The Worm leaned down.

  Ann snatched the gun from his ankle strap and pointed it at him.

  The Worm froze, his blue eyes as wide as egg yolks.

  Taps resounded from the front door. “Ma’am.”

  “Come in. Hurry,” Ann called out.

  “Put that thing down. The way it’s shaking it’s going to go off and kill somebody.” Fear lined The Worm’s voice.

  “Yeah, you—you creepy coward.” James glared at him.

  A policeman who entered with Derick marched to Ann and clasped the gun. “That’s good, ma’am. We’ll take it from here.”

  “Get those hands behind your back now.” Derick handcuffed The Worm, and James stepped aside.

  “She’s still a stupid Christian. I can’t believe she walked off at one of those clandestine meetings they have and left her purse. How easy was it to scan her keys into my iPhone?” The Worm’s sinister, guttural laugh made Ann’s skin cra
wl.

  Derick looked at Ann with compassionate eyes. “Come down to the station tomorrow.” He directed his gaze at James. “Both of you, to give your statements. Get a good night’s rest. You’ve earned it.”

  * * *

  Ann breathed in the fresh salty air, her muscles relaxed as she looked over the boats docked in the harbor. The sky met the massive ocean in endless blue, the afternoon sun glinting on the water like diamonds sparkling. She spread her arms, embracing her new freedom. In her mind she soared like the seagulls, squawking, flying over the weathered wooden seats on the deck at The Wharf, over the lagoon, and out to sea.

  James thumped his fingers on the table.

  In moments Freddie strolled across the floor, pulled up one of the tall bar chairs, and grinned. “We did it.” He glanced at Ann then James. “You didn’t tell them last night, did you?”

  James shook his head. “No, of course not. They think we called because we saw him entering the condo, which is true. We just didn’t say we’d laid a plan and were watching for him. We also couldn’t tell them we saw letters from Randolph Calvert.” James’s lips turned up on the corners. “But this morning when we were at the station, they told us The Worm gave him up. He wasn’t going to prison and not bring Randolph down with him.”

  “Good. I didn’t want to concoct a scheme to catch him too.” Freddie chuckled. “Now don’t get me wrong, I would’ve if I’d had to. Was The Worm following you on Randolph’s orders all along? The attack at the bank, that night in the parking lot, and the one in your house.”

  Ann grew queasy. “Yes.”

  “Randolph’s entire life has been a front for the evil one he really lives. He’s active in the community, a wealthy entrepreneur, and restauranteur who donates to charitable causes and supposedly promotes good will. Just goes to show you.” Freddie leaned forward. “But we got him.”

  “We did.” Ann glanced at the tranquil ocean then looked back at Freddie. “But more will come.”

  “I know.”

  Tears built inside Ann as she directed her gaze at James. Was he going to walk away again?

  “We’ll take care of them too. I’m coming to every single True Light Guardians meeting and protect you. I’ve been all tied in knots when I should have had more faith. God called you to your position, and He’s called me to stand by you.”

  Ann tingled from head to toe as though she’d found her pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, a gentle, kind love, not one that hurt like the type her father offered. According to what Paul said in I Corinthians 13, verse five, love was “not easily angered.” Sad. Apparently, her father didn’t know love.

  She blinked back tears of joy that nearly exploded from so many blessings. She’d pray for Beau and Dad, maybe have Dad, Eunice, and Beau over for dinner, and Freddie. Oh, she had so much to make up to him.

  She’d judged him so poorly, and it wasn’t her place to judge anyone, but she’d learned her lesson.

  “Count me in.” Freddie’s lips turned up on the corners. “For keeping True Light Guardians alive. And for the wedding too, when you plan it.”

  Heat rushed up Ann’s neck. “Freddie.”

  James puffed out his chest. “Spoken like a true friend. You’re included on both counts, Freddie.” He pulled Ann close and gave her a squeeze.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Gail Pallotta is a wife, mom, swimmer and bargain shopper who loves God, beach sunsets and getting together with friends and family. She’s been a Sunday school teacher, a swim-team coordinator and an after-school literary instructor. A former regional writer of the year for American Christian Writers Association, she won Clash of the Titles in 2010. Her teen book, Stopped Cold, was a best-seller on All Romance eBooks, finished fourth in the 16th Annual Preditors and Editors readers’ poll, and was a finalist for the 2013 Grace Awards. She’s published short stories in Splickety magazine and Sweet Freedom with a Slice of Peach Cobbler. Some of her published articles appear in anthologies while two are in museums.

  Please enjoy this excerpt from Evidence Not Seen by Carlene Havel,

  the next book in Prism’s Love Is series.

  “This is the last of the Christmas decorations,” Jeffrey Galloway announced as he stacked boxes on the floor of his mother’s living room. “Let me fold up the attic stairs and put your car in the garage. Then I’ll put the tree together.”

  “Thank you.” Rosemary opened a carton and began to unpack strings of lights. She turned each tangled strand over several times before setting it aside. Biting her lip, she shook her head and sighed. “Imagine. Next year, your father will be here to trim the tree with us. I believe nineteen eighty is going to be a great year for the Galloway family.” Her hands caressed the lights as she gathered them into a jumbled pile. “They could have released him years ago. But he never got a break. They wouldn’t even let him go a few weeks early, to be home in time for Christmas this year.”

  Jeff put an arm around his mother and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “It won’t be much longer now.”

  “Every year I’ve prayed for compassion from the parole board, but it’s never happened.” Rosemary stared out the front window of her living room. “But, on January twenty-fifth his sentence is up, every last day of it finished. Over with at last.”

  “Perhaps Aunt Ruby will quit campaigning for you to divorce him.” Keys rattled as Jeff took them from a wall hook.

  “Yes,” Rosemary answered. “Everyone who said Keith was never coming home can go chew on a sour pickle. Your Aunt Ruby included.”

  “Do you ever think maybe she’s on to something?”

  “Of course not!” Rosemary’s eyes swung to her son’s face. “How could you say such a thing?”

  Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. “That was an attempt at humor, Mom. Apparently ineffective. Truth is, I hardly know my father.”

  “That’s not his fault. I hope you realize that.”

  Jeff nodded. “I’m not placing blame, simply stating a fact. He’s been gone a long time.”

  “That’s for sure,” Rosemary said. “They parole thugs and murderers and put them back on the streets, but they’ve made Keith serve his entire sentence.” She sighed. “Maybe I should have moved closer to the prison farm when you were a child, where we could have visited him more often. If you knew him better, you would understand what a good man he is. I thought about doing that so many times.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “There was no guarantee they wouldn’t transfer him somewhere else. Besides, this is his home.” Rosemary glanced around her, left and right. “Your grandfather built this house. Keith grew up here.” She folded her hands and looked away once more. “He dreams of coming home, living here again. After all he’s lost, I couldn’t bring myself to take that away from him, too. And on top of everything else,” she added after a brief silence, “I can’t stand for anyone to say we were run out of town. Keith Galloway is the finest man I’ve ever known, and I won’t have the local gossips whisper he’s afraid to face them.” Rosemary rested a hand on her forehead. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No, thanks,” Jeff answered, shaking his head. “I’m required to put in an appearance at Mr. Wilcox’s annual holiday reception this evening. It’s a command performance, you know.”

  “I think it’s nice Mr. Wilcox gives a party every Christmas.” Rosemary began to remove newspaper balls from a cardboard box, gently placing each wad on the dining table.

  Hurrying through the chilly garage, Jeff folded the spring-loaded attic steps into the ceiling. We have to talk about this situation, he thought as he pulled his mother’s auto into its customary space. Mom has sidestepped any in-depth discussion of Dad’s crime my whole life.

  Coming in the side door, he rubbed his hands together. “It’s getting cold.” He hung up his jacket and returned his mother’s keys.

  Rosemary continued to unwrap an assortment of Christmas decorations. “Of course it’s cold. It’s December.”


  Within a few minutes, Jeff had the four-foot aluminum tree assembled. He stood back to admire his work, but the view was unsatisfactory. “Mom, why don’t I get you a new tree? This one sags to one side no matter what I do. It must be as old as I am.”

  “It looks fine to me,” Rosemary replied, without so much as a glance toward the Christmas tree. She held up a tiny teddy bear. “Here, you can put the Charlie decoration on first.”

  “Good old Charlie.” Jeff smiled, turning the faded ornament over several times. He fastened the metal hook to a branch near the top. “I may as well start straightening out the lights.”

  Rosemary stuffed the used newsprint into a plastic bag. “Good idea. Are you picking up Stephanie for the reception, or is she meeting you there?”

  “I’m going by myself. Steph is still in Washington.”

  “Oh?” She placed a red glass ball on the tree. “I thought you told me she was coming home the day after Thanksgiving.”

  “She changed her mind. She has a job interview lined up next week.”

  “In Washington, DC?” Rosemary stood with a gold snowflake suspended from her hand. “Is she planning to move there?”

  “She won’t have a choice if she gets the job.” Jeff kept his eyes on the knotted string of multi-colored lights. “Why don’t you throw these lights away and I’ll buy some new ones? It’s going to take forever to figure out which one of the bulbs is burned out.”

  “The lights will be all right. You’re not planning to move to Washington, too, are you?” The gold snowflake still dangled from Rosemary’s hand.

  “No, I’m staying put.” Settling on the floor, Jeff plugged in the string of lights. When nothing happened, he unplugged them and replaced a bulb.

  Rosemary hung the snowflake on the tree and sank to the sofa. “Is this going to be a long distance romance?”

  With a sigh, Jeff repeated the bulb replacement process with no success. “No, our romance—if you can call it that—has run its course. Stephanie has political aspirations. If she doesn’t get this job, she’ll line up another one.” Deciding the best way to avoid questions he didn’t want to answer was to change the subject, Jeff asked, “Are you concerned about living here with Dad?”