Catee's Grace

by Keith Holmes

  Jahleel quickly scaled a building and watched the precinct. About five minutes passed before Sasha emerged, side-by-side with a detective. The man loaded Sasha’s bike into the back of his car. She slowly scanned her surroundings, but she didn’t lay eyes on the Vigilant. Still she smiled, knowing that, even with his exceptional speed, the chase was at an end.

  Jahleel chewed at his lip, knowing the same. He clinched his fist as Sasha climbed into the car and disappeared down the street.

  ***

  The setting sun did little to ease Ethan’s nervous stomach. He’d tried to lose himself in ritual, having already given Catee her supper and a bath. It was too early for bed, but both of them needed something familiar.

  Catee did her best to soothe her father’s mind as well, making each task as simple and entertaining as she could. She’d brought a smile to his troubled face a time or two but none of those smiles lasted for very long. The little one was on the couch, covered in a blanket and ready for sleep.

  Ethan made frequent visits to the window in hopes of spying someone's return, but so far no one had. With a sigh he wiped tiredness from his eyes when Catee called to him. She could never fall asleep without someone to cuddle with.

  “Daddy… are you gonna lay on the couch with me?” she asked.

  He turned and offered a grin before making his way to her, laying down behind her and draping an arm over her side. He’d lain down atop the blanket and should have known that it wouldn’t suit her. It never did. Sitting up, Catee tugged at its corner, trying to free it.

  “You needa be covered up Daddy. It’s cold,” she said. After a bit of wriggling the two were finally settled and in the quiet, Catee spoke, lowering her tone. “When is Mommy coming home?” she asked.

  “Soon baby,” he answered quickly, “Mommy will be home soon.”

  Though it kicked up the worry-sickness in his belly, it was enough to satisfy his little girl, her head twisting to rut out an indention in her pillow.

  “Love you,” she said softly. It brought a grin to her father’s lips as he tugged her closer to him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Salim arrived outside the Salon du Paris in less time than he thought it would take him. He often saw God’s work in things; in the traffic or lack thereof, which allowed for his quick arrival. Thanking his Lord silently with an acknowledging glance to the sky, he found a vantage similar to the one that his Vigilant brother had taken. But he barely had time to settle there before the very figure he’d searched endlessly for emerged through the front doors, Joli at her side. Excitement built in his stomach as he straightened himself and prepared to cross the street, questions running through his mind. Who was this woman? Intuition told him the answer though he didn’t want to believe it.

  The tinny hoot of a car horn caused him to leap back as an angry motorist sped by. He’d been so affixed on the duo that he nearly stepped out in front of the car. He took a breath and smoothed his shirt before moving once more. Just as he stepped up onto the curb outside the salon, his phone rang. JAHLEEL, it read. His Vigilant would have to wait. He shoved the phone back into his pocket before finding the pair again. They’d turned north toward a taxi corral. Salim lifted his arm, hurried his steps and called out to them.

  “Mrs. Moyer! Tara! Wait please!”

  Tara twisted around to look to the monk, Joli taking hold of her arm to keep her pace moving forward. “Move ahead Tara. Don’t listen to him; he’ll tell you nothing but lies. Think of Catee.” Tara’s brow furrowed as she faced forward and continued down the street. Salim ran to catch up and called out again.

  “Please Tara… you don’t know what’s happening here.”

  Salim’s ordinarily robust sense of his environment was clouded by his excitement and desire to catch up with Tara; to save her from a fate she hadn’t a clue was befalling her. He didn’t see the police officer step behind him, not until that officer leapt in front of him and placed a hand firmly in the monk’s chest.

  “Get out of my way. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Salim demanded.

  The officer stood his ground.

  Salim first tried to skirt the officer, then shifted left to right so that he could see around. When it became clear that they weren’t going to stop, he began to shout.

  “TARA! WAIT PLEASE! YOU MUSN’T GO WITH HER!” His shouting did little to soothe the officer's annoyance with the fact that the monk was ignoring him.

  “MONSIEUR! ECOUTE MOI!” he shouted, placing his hands on Salim’s shoulders roughly, taking hold of his shirt.

  But each step that Tara and Joli took pounded a growing urgency in Salim’s stomach. As the two began climbing into a taxi he became nearly hysterical, jumping now to get the young mother’s attention, pleading with her.

  “PLEASE TARA, PLEASE WAIT! PLEASE SPEAK WITH ME!”

  It was rare for the monk to lose his cool. Frantic, Salim began trying to break away from the officer’s hold. As he leapt, crying out, he inadvertently lifted his arms and felt the back of his hand meet the cop’s face with a pop. Before he could react he felt his body slam to the pavement, his chin meeting with the sidewalk, splitting wide. His arm was twisted behind him and felt the cold steel of handcuffs as they ratcheted over that same wrist. Tears of pain and sorrow filled his eyes, still trained on Tara and Joli’s taxi as it pulled away from the curb. Through bleeding lips he pleaded with the officer.

  “No! You must let me stop them, please!"

  Joli had an unpleasant look on her face as she turned to watch Salim’s arrest. Tara looked nearly as sick as Salim did. As Joli’s eyes found that look she touched Tara’s arm and comforted her.

  “I know it’s hard. Most likely that man treated you with kindness but I promise you Tara; he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  Tara nodded softly, acknowledging Joli’s words but discomfort never left her face. This was the first true time that she’d chosen a path that she knew Ethan wouldn’t agree with. The magnitude of her decision today would no doubt impact her life forever and she was as frightened as a child on the first day of school. Turning to Joli, she painted an uncomfortable smile on her lips.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Salim sat quietly in the back of the patrol car, defeated and bloodied. He listened to one side of a cell phone conversation as the officer before him made a quick, cryptic call.

  “I have him,” the officer said softly. Then he nodded into the phone. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Salim noticed that his own phone hadn’t been confiscated, nor his keys or any of the contents of his pockets; only his wallet. His head craned as the car approached the police station and then past it.

  “Where are we going?” he demanded, answered only with silence. “You’ve passed the police station you idiot,” he said, still turned to look to the old building as best he could with his hands cuffed behind him.

  “Just be quiet,” the officer finally offered. “You’ll know where you’re going soon enough.”

  What should have been a short ride grew as the police car headed toward the bowels of the city, into districts that Salim knew well; places infamous for their crime rates and seedy locales. After nearly a half hour of driving the car pulled into an abandoned warehouse and Salim’s stomach sank.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked, fearing that he knew the answer.

  “You’ll see,” the officer said, driving deep into the warehouse until the car’s headlights glossed against the side of a black car, an older man standing before its hood.

  Salim recognized the man. He’d made it a practice to know all of the city officials. In a moment he’d be speaking with the Captain of the Paris Police, Chaney Adele’. Salim was left in the car as the officer got out and spoke with the Captain. He watched as his wallet was given to the tired looking leader, his personal information inspected one card at a time. Finally both approached Salim’s door and it was opened.

  “Is this your correct address Mr. Malech?” Adele’ asked; not yet lif
ting his eyes to the Monk. Salim ignored the question.

  “Why have you brought me here? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Adele looked to Salim and smiled.

  “Are you comfortable Salim? No, of course you aren’t.” His manner was surprisingly friendly but Salim didn’t allow the sweetness of the words to lower his guard. Rather than wait for a reply Adele turned to the officer and instructed. “Take him out of the handcuffs.”

  Helping the aging monk to stand, the officer quickly complied. As Salim began rubbing at his wrists Adele’ gave the officer one final order.

  “You can go.”

  The Police Captain placed his hand on Salim’s shoulder and began strolling toward the other car, leaning against its hood. The two watched silently as the officer drove out of sight.

  “I am a Christian man Mr. Malech; a Catholic for many years,” he began, clearing his throat. “I have seen many terrible things in my years as a policeman… but as a Captain…,” he emphasized the word, marking a change in his life, “well as a Captain I have become privy to a world that I never knew existed before.”

  Salim’s eyes hardened, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

  “Do you appreciate beautiful women?” Adele asked, turning to Salim as though they were college buddies having a friendly conversation. “I know that you have vowed celibacy but do you still appreciate them? Their lines… their curves…” For a moment Adele’ became lost in his thoughts as he visualized.

  “Women have great power my friend. A beautiful woman, that’s one thing. But take a beautiful and intelligent and rich woman and there is no end to their influence.” Salim had heard enough of extolling the worldly virtues of the women Adele’ spoke of.

  “You speak of the Sponsas Draco,” he said rather coldly. Adele’ turned to him with a grin.

  “You say it with such distaste,” he replied. “I speak of a woman who stole my heart many years ago. As I said; I used to be a devout Catholic, praying for this thing or that; spending time on my knees and sacrificing and praying and praying and sacrificing and never truly getting what I asked for. Then I realized something. This woman, Joli', she made me realize that all that a man wants or needs can be had without the invocation of some heartless ‘god’. All a man truly needs lies in the body and upon the lips of a woman; in her purse, on her table and in her bed.”

  As Salim listened on, his eyes began scanning his surroundings, looking for an escape. He spied a distant gash in the factory's steel walls. It would be a long, dangerous run, but one he thought he could make.

  “What is this place? I spend my life catching those who break our laws but what are laws? Who is this “God” who provides us with strength and pleasure and then tells us that it is wrong to use them? If a man has the power, he should use it. He should take what he wants. And only those with the power to oppose him, to defend themselves, should get in his way.”

  Salim turned back to the Captain and pursed his lips.

  “God created all of these things and has not told us not to use them, but to use them wisely; to use them in aid of our brothers and sisters, to help the weak and the strong alike that all may enjoy a blessed life.”

  Adele laughed when he heard the reply.

  “Have you seen Salim, what man does to his fellow man? No, no my friend; at one time perhaps this was possible but man is too far-gone now. It’s best now; I think to simply look out for yourself. I am a man who has done much good but I have also done what some would consider evil. In no case was I rewarded or punished for either. I imagine the afterlife. That once I die, I will go to Heaven and find only the stench of the rotting corpse of a God that has died long ago.”

  The statement angered the monk who turned to defend his God.

  “I think rather, you’ll find a God that is crying for a child that has become so terribly lost. And then you’ll find the pit of Hell.”

  Again Adele’ laughed at Salim, this time with a deep guffaw.

  “Enough theology my friend. I am here today in the service of ‘evil’ I suppose. With your wallet I have all that I have been asked to retrieve and so I no longer need you.” Adele’ reached casually into his jacket and produced a pistol. Salim’s eyes widened as he backed a step away. “You needn’t worry my friend. I am very good at this. You won’t suffer long. Then you can go up to Heaven to your crying god.”

  Salim’s steps continued backward, slowly at first and picking up steam.

  “Who knows, perhaps you’ll be able to find some absolution for me while you’re up there. Goodbye friar.”

  As Adele’ leveled the pistol Salim turned and broke into a sprint toward the rusted steel opening he'd spied. The monk was certain he’d never moved so quickly, but that it felt far slower than he needed. The Captain was forgotten, all that existed in that moment was the distance between he and that passageway. A prayer burst through his mind when suddenly he felt a thud in his lower back. As if in slow motion he watched as a jet of fire and blood passed from his abdomen and through his escape route, then another and another. His legs gave out and he crashed to the ground. As though the warehouse had suddenly transformed into a barrel, all sound swirled around him, softened and distant. Somewhere in that vortex Adele’s voice mixed in.

  “You see? You can hardly feel it. I’ve shot you in the liver. You’ll be dead in just a moment. I am merciful after all yes?”

  Salim seemed frightened but not for the reasons most would think. He didn’t welcome death but he didn’t fear it either. His thoughts at that moment, his last here on Earth were of a little girl that he promised to protect; a promise he was slowly failing to keep. His dirty, blood soaked hands felt for his cell phone and with blurred vision, he dialed. The moment the call was answered he began to speak, afraid that he might not be able to soon.

  “Jahleel… they…. know.”

  Adele’s brow drew down when he saw the phone. Quickly he stomped toward the dying monk.

  “Where are you?” Jahleel demanded.

  “Protect… them… not safe,” came Salim’s pain-soaked reply.

  The furrow in Jahleel’s brow rutted deeper.

  “Salim?”

  “Police… Adele’” was the only reply. The phone call ended with the –POP- of Adele’s coup-de-grace.

  Jahleel shrank back as though the bullet had come through the phone and struck him as well. The young Vigilant’s head jerked back and rage filled his face as he tossed his cell phone onto the pavement, shattering it into bits. An apathetic crowd leapt back, giving Jahleel the wide berth his actions demanded. He took a moment, huge gasps of air causing his chest to rise and crash as he resisted the urge to cry before lifting his face to Heaven. Then he steadied himself and burst into a sprint toward his friend’s former residence.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Salim’s door was heavy, old world construction that had, had many new world locks installed. Arriving to it, Jahleel first tried to power through it but even his gifted muscles weren’t enough to do more than move it a few centimeters and make a huge noise.

  The crash caused Ethan to leap from his spot on the couch, his daughter still undisturbed until the Vigilant began hurriedly pounding on it. Ethan closed the short distance to the door as Catee began to rouse, barking at whoever was on the other side. “What is it?!”

  “It’s Jahleel, please open the door Ethan, hurry!”

  Jahleel's excitement disturbed the young father. Quickly he opened the door, his heart racing.

  “We have to go,” Jahleel said softly but rushed.

  Catee was wiping sleep from her eyes as Ethan looked to him with concern.

  “What? Why? We’ve already moved once tonight!”

  Jahleel’s face saddened.

  “Salim is dead. Please Ethan, it’s not safe here anymore.”

  The two shared a quiet stare, then without another word Ethan stepped to the couch, gently retrieving his daughter and taking her into the bathroom to change her clothes.

&n
bsp; “Please Mr. Moyer… we don’t have time…” Jahleel’s words were interrupted as Ethan snapped at the Knight.

  “I can’t take my little girl out in this weather in her pajamas.” The reply was enough to quiet the Knight.

  Catee had her hands resting atop Ethan’s shoulders as she lifted her legs, one at a time to step into her pants. Ethan was kneeling before her as she spoke.

  “It’s gonna be all right Daddy, I promise,” she said softly, kissing her father atop his bandaged forehead. It was the closest to tears he’d been in many years as his hands shook lightly. Pausing in dressing her, he looked into her big blue eyes for a moment and pulled her into a hug.

  “I love you,” he said softly. It occurred to him that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d told her this and truly felt it. She answered with a squeeze.

  Jahleel made his way to the window nervously glancing about, his head twisting to every siren and flashing light before finally moving to the bathroom door. As he lifted his knuckles to knock the door popped open.

  “Let’s go,” Ethan hurried, Catee tucked safely in his arms, making his way toward the door. He was moving so quickly that Jahleel actually had to pick up the trail.

  The trio burst into the hallway, making their way down the steps and into the street; Ethan and Catee leading, Jahleel shortly behind. The three had barely hit the chilly stoop when they were frozen suddenly, in their tracks.

  “Mommy!” Catee cried, twisting in her father’s arms, a broad smile painted on her face. But Ethan didn’t share her enthusiasm. In fact, he looked on cautiously.