“Oh, yeah. With blood on their hands. Literally.”
Maybe I took one too many blows to the head, but I’m having a hard time visualizing how it all went down. Did Malachi lead the police there, too? Or did Drew and Malachi take down a seasoned FBI agent and his accomplice on their own?
I can’t see either of them subduing Strand.
“So what happened? After Malachi said God would show you?”
“Well, we got in his car and he started driving. It was something else, let me tell you. He’d drive for a bit, then slow down, wait, then make the turn. Kind of like God was his GPS or something.”
A chill dances down my back.
Does God really talk to people like that?
Well, they found me, so obviously so. Unless Malachi was in on it.
No.
He didn’t know where I was being held. He led Drew to me. And by all accounts, he saved my life. There’s no way he was in on anything.
Besides, Malachi’s about as innocent as they come. I doubt he could con anyone. He doesn’t have it in him.
And I’ve known some pretty good con artists. Including myself.
I clear my throat. “So God gave him turn-by-turn directions. Then what?”
“He stops in front of this warehouse. We get out and start walking around and there’s this guy hanging out by a busted window. Malachi walks up to the guy and touches him and the guy just goes down.”
“He touches him?” I must still be unconscious because this is the craziest story I’ve ever heard.
And I’ve heard some pretty crazy stuff over the years.
Especially in the past week.
“I know.” Drew shakes his head. “Must’ve been one of those pressure point things. I don’t know. But the guy was out cold. We go through the window and find you attacking that guy and then…”
Drew’s Adam’s apple bobs. A few deep breaths flare his nostrils. “…And then he stabbed you and you collapsed. There was a lot of blood.”
“I remember Malachi being there. Where were you?”
Drew rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, I was making sure that guy wouldn’t come back for round two.”
As his puts his hand back on the bed, I notice some bruising and a few small scrapes across his knuckles.
“You hit him?” I can’t see Drew hitting anyone, much less an FBI agent who is proficient in hand-to-hand combat. “He’s FBI. How did you take him down?”
“You drove him against a machine. He was a little dazed. A few hits and he was out.”
“A street-fighting pastor. Who’d have guessed.”
“I hope my fighting days are over.” The corner of Drew’s mouth quirks up. “Unless you plan to make these life or death situations a habit.”
I sure hope not. These last two weeks have been more than enough for me. “You just never know about me.”
“Sounds like I’ll need to keep a close eye on you.”
I get the feeling there’s nothing casual about that statement. “What I don’t get is how they found me.”
While it wouldn’t have been hard for someone with access to track Stormy Jones from Charleston to Reno, my identities are pretty well guarded. Strand only knows one of my aliases, not all of them. And not Stormy Jones.
“That’s my fault, I’m afraid.”
My heart trips as a voice comes from behind me. Whipping around, I find Vic Evans standing inside the door, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his creased pinstriped pants.
“You called him?”
Evans lifts his shoulders in a small shrug. “Try to see it from my end. There’s a missing persons’ report on you, you’re a person of interest in a homicide, you deny everything but were obviously hiding something. ‘Course I called him.”
I hear the logic behind his words, understand it even, but that doesn’t make it better. “He almost killed me!”
“I didn’t foresee that. Obviously.” He runs his fingers through his fluffy hair. “Look, I’m sorry. If I’d known… well, I woulda handled things differently. You shoulda come clean when I asked you about it.”
“I didn’t know all the details myself.”
“Still, you shoulda said something. Then none of this would’ve happened.”
If he wants me to say everything’s fine, he’s going to be disappointed.
But I can understand the position he was in and can’t honestly say I would’ve handled things any differently. “At least now we have sufficient evidence to hold him.”
Something we wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t attacked me.
“True story.” Evans settles into a chair next to my bed. “You up to giving your statement now?”
Not really, but I know he needs it. The sooner, the better.
I nod.
Funny how much energy it takes to simply recount the events of the previous evening. By the time I finish answering Evans’ follow-up questions, I’m drained. It’s a relief when he puts his recorder away and walks out of the room.
“Wow. I had no idea… you’ve been through a lot.”
I turn back to Drew. I’d like to say it sounds worse than it is, but that’s not true. It was all pretty awful. I manage a smile. “There’ve been some good things, too. New friends, for one thing. And it could’ve been much worse.”
“Thank God for Malachi, huh?”
He’s right. Thank God He sent Malachi, and Drew, to help me. Otherwise…
“Where is Malachi, anyway?”
“I don’t know. He was here earlier, but didn’t say when he’d be back.” Drew pulls out his phone. “Might be at work, I guess. I can’t remember if he was working today or not.”
Work.
I’m not a waitress. I’m an FBI Agent.
I have to go back. Not only did I leave a lot of things hanging when I left like I did, I need to make sure that Strand and his accomplice go away for good. I need to see that there’s justice for Saul’s murder.
My eyes find Drew’s.
Leaving is going to be harder than I thought.
“So what happens now, Audra Parker?”
It’s like he read my mind. Maybe my face gave me away. “I have to go home. There are things waiting for me there. Probably people looking for me.”
“Someone special?”
Ryan’s face flashes to mind, but he probably doesn’t even know I’m gone. And if he knows, he certainly doesn’t care. The whole relationship was nothing but a sham.
And really, I’m not too disappointed about that. Compared to Drew, Ryan comes up short.
Really, really short.
“No one special. But my job is there. My family. My whole life is there.”
Although I don’t know that I necessarily want it to be any longer. Charleston has been home for almost my whole life, but this… this feels right.
How hard would it be to transfer to the Reno office? I bet there’s lots of undercover work to be done here.
Or maybe it’s time to give up undercover. It’s not the easiest on relationships.
I have other options. I could be a field agent. Cybercrimes might be a good fit. I’m pretty handy with computers.
“Well.” Drew clears his throat. “They need pastors in Charleston, too, right?”
What?
He picks up my uninjured hand like it’s made of crystal and tucks it inside his own. “I, uh, I feel like we’ve got something here. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong.” I love the way his hand swallows mine like a glove. But I shouldn’t get used to it. I can’t. Not when I know deep inside that this won’t work out. “But… you can’t come to Charleston. I mean, leaving all this…”
“I’m used to leaving all this. Honestly, I’m not in Reno all that often so it won’t be a big change.”
He’s talking like it’s a done deal. As much as I want to have him around, I think it’ll bring nothing but heartache to both of us. After all, how can he trust someone who deceives people for a living? “You don’t re
ally know me.”
A small chuckle comes from his curved lips. “I don’t know. It’s been a pretty intense ten days.”
Has it only been ten days? Somehow it feels like I’ve known Drew forever. “You know Stormy the bartender. Not me. Not Audra Parker.”
And I’m a liar.
My eyes burn and my throat clogs.
I’ve never questioned the morality of my lifestyle before. Not even when I’ve helped take down people who have treated me decently. I lie and trick people and do it really, really well. I may not know much about God and the Bible, but I’m pretty sure lying isn’t something God approves.
Although I’m doing good work and bringing justice. That has to count for something.
But do the ends justify the means?
Either way, one thing is certain. Drew deserves better. He deserves someone who is honest and trustworthy.
And no matter how much I want to be that person, I obviously am not.
A warm trail burns down my cheek. I look away.
“Hey.” Drew’s fingers feather across my cheek, brushing away the tear before turning my face back to him. “I do know you. And the things I don’t know, well, I’m looking forward to figuring out.”
It’s too good to be real. He’s too good to be real.
His face blurs. “But how? How can you trust me? After everything?”
“It’s pretty easy. Think about it. After you figured everything out, have you lied to me?”
“No.” Blinking sends more rivers down my cheeks, but brings clarity to his features. I don’t try to wipe the tears away.
“Then you’ve given me no reason not to trust you.” He sifts his fingers through his hair. “I won’t pretend to understand all you deal with in your line of work. And I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. But as long as you’re honest with me, I’ll let you and God sort the rest out.”
Amazing. I don’t know if we have a future together, but I want the chance to find out.
Still, there’s the issue of Charlie.
“Then I’ll move here.”
His lips part. He stares at me for a few seconds. “But… but your job.”
“They need agents here, too.” I haul in a breath. “Besides, you said you love this town. And you can’t leave your dad. He needs you.”
“And yours doesn’t?” He arches an eyebrow. “How is it any different?”
A breath huffs from me before I can stop it. “It’s different, believe me. Honestly, I’m not even sure my dad knows that I’m gone.”
Okay, that was harsh. And not exactly true. I’m sure he knows and that he’s worried. Whether or not he’s let anyone see it is another story.
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t. But my father is not big on relationships.”
“You know, you haven’t told me much about your family.”
“That’s because it’s hard to talk about what you can’t remember.”
His thumb rubs the back of my hand. “Is it just you and your dad?”
“And mom. I know she loves me, but she’s too busy buying everything in sight to really want to spend quality time doing anything that doesn’t involve shopping. I spent more time with nannies growing up than I did with my own parents.”
“Nannies.” Drew repeats, staring at me for a few seconds. “What does your father do?”
“He runs a computer software company–”
“Parker Industries.” Drew’s jaw slackens for a few seconds. “I never made the connection.”
“I don’t know why you would have. Parker isn’t an uncommon name and I certainly haven’t been living the high life down here.”
“Still. You’re used to fancy restaurants and black-tie parties, things like that.”
“You trying to warn me that pastors don’t make that much?” I inject the question with a teasing tone, but I’m so tired that I think it falls flat.
Either way, it doesn’t appear to reassure him.
“Not usually. I’ll probably always lead a much simpler life than you’re used to.”
Does he really think I care about money? “I work undercover for the FBI. I’m used to drug deals and meth labs and people who would kill their own brother for a hit. Believe me, simple sounds great.”
“But you grew up with–”
“I would’ve traded every last cent my father made for the connection you and your dad have.” My eyes feel heavy and my hand is now completely limp in Drew’s hand. “Happiness is worth more than money.”
His thumb gently rubs the back of my hand. “Well, Reno or Charleston. I think I’ll be happy wherever you are.”
I don’t know that we reached any conclusions on who’s going where, but I’m too tired to think about it any further right now.
“You should rest.” Even though he’s right in front of me, his voice sounds distant.
I know he’s right, but I don’t want to end this time with him. “But you…”
“I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”
I hope he’s telling the truth, because I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer.
With his voice echoing in my head and my hand securely encased by his, I succumb to the invading darkness.
Nineteen
“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.” Zak’s smile contains a sadness that makes me want to cry.
“I know. This place has started to feel like home.”
Well, except for the whole living in a hotel thing, but even that has gotten comfortable.
“You look tired. Maybe you should have Drew drive you back to the hotel.”
I am tired, but I won’t sacrifice my precious remaining time with my new friends. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
“Okay, but I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” Zak points at his eyes then at me before moving away to take care of some customers. I look around the bar and the now-empty restaurant.
Leaving isn’t only hard for me. It’s impacting others, too.
Since I’m in no condition to work, Charlie had to replace all my shifts, creating a heavier workload for everyone else here.
And I’m not the only one leaving.
By all accounts Malachi has vanished. He left Charlie a note saying his time here was done, as well as a few names and phone numbers of people Charlie might contact about working here, but no one has seen him since he walked out of the hospital.
Drew crosses the bar and sits on a stool nearby. From the look on his face, I’m guessing he had no success tracking Malachi down.
“Any luck?”
Drew shakes his head. “None. The address he put on his application is a church downtown, but no one there knows him.”
Weird. Why would Malachi use a church?
“Know what’s even crazier? His car was in the lot. I talked to the pastor, who said that someone anonymously gifted him that vehicle. Monday morning, in fact.”
Five days ago.
The day after Strand’s attack.
The last day anyone saw Malachi.
How could he so completely disappear? And without saying goodbye?
Malachi’s Mustang is pretty distinctive. No chance that it’s another vehicle. “Why would Malachi give away his car and leave town so suddenly?”
Drew studies me for a second in silence. “You don’t want to know what I think.”
“That he was abducted by aliens?”
“I think he might’ve been an angel.”
Funny. And Drew looks so sane, too. “What, like fluffy white wings and harps?”
He laughs. “That’s the Sunday School version. More like a messenger of God who knows how to fight battles we can’t even imagine.”
Could Drew be right? He knows more about this kind of thing than I do. “So why do you think that?”
“You mean aside from the car and his sudden disappearance?” Drew checks things off on his fingers. “He never cashed a single paycheck. The pastor said the
re was a stack of small bills in the glovebox in the car. I’m betting those were the tips he received. He showed up just when everyone here needed him, always seemed to know what to say and where to be, knew where to find you when you needed help, plus the whole healing thing with both Carina and you.”
“We don’t know that either of us was healed. Maybe it was just one of those unexplained medical mystery things.”
Drew tilts his head with a raised eyebrow. “And how is that different from a miraculous healing?”
He’s right. Whether or not God used Malachi to heal Carina, and me, is unclear, but the doctors didn’t think either one of us would pull through.
This whole thing is hard to wrap my head around. Malachi, an angel?
Well, it would explain a lot of his strange behavior.
And the maybe-healings.
But it seems so far-fetched. I mean, seriously. Angels? Disguised as people? Walking around, driving cars, working, singing…?
Then again, why not?
“Why? Why would God send an angel here, now?”
Drew arches an eyebrow. “You really have to ask? If it weren’t for Malachi, you’d probably be dead right now. Carina might still be in a coma. Sam might still be living with abuse. Seems to me like a lot of good things came out of his short time here.”
I can’t argue with that. “But why would God send him to do all that?”
“If you have to ask that, you haven’t been listening.” Drew’s tone is light, but I can tell he’s serious. “You really think that God, who sacrificed His own Son for humanity, wouldn’t do whatever it takes to reveal His love to you?”
He’s right.
And is the theory any crazier than anything else that’s happened these last two weeks?
Regardless of who Malachi is or is not, one thing is certain. My life is better for having known him.
“How’re you feeling?”
First Zak, now Drew. I must look really bad. “I’m alive and not in the hospital. I’m doing great.”
“Great, huh? You were almost murdered – twice – by another agent. You lost a lot of blood. And fought off an infection. It’s okay to be less than great.”
I touch his cheek, its prickliness somehow comforting under my hand. Funny how just holding my arm up can require so much strength, strength I don’t have. “I also have some really amazing people looking out for me. Trust me. I’m better than I should be.”
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