Delayed Justice

by Cara C. Putman

  “Does that qualify as a sermon?”

  Caroline laughed. “Maybe it does. Did you listen?”

  “I heard. I’m not sure I can trust like that.”

  “Have you ever seen a mustard seed?”

  “Sure. Those tiny things are crazy.”

  “That’s all the faith I need. Faith the size of a mustard seed. Then I can believe God is who He says He is and He will do what He says.”

  Jaime let Caroline’s words settle between them. Her friend was such a mystery, spending her days in the relative safety of a career clerk role. Jaime had always wondered why. Before she could ask, Caroline changed the topic.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t become a crusader like Emilie.” Caroline brushed at her shirt. “Why not be the voice for the voiceless?”

  “In some ways I am.”

  “Sure, criminal defendants need an advocate, but that’s not what I mean.”

  Jaime blew out a breath and shifted against the futon. “It’s too close to what I lived. I can’t relive it through others’ pain every day.” It was bad enough hearing the little bits Emilie shared. And now Tiffany was ripping the veil off her delusion that she’d moved on. “But I did take Tiffany to my mom, and I’m helping where Savannah needs it. That’s a start.”

  “All right.”

  “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “Jaime, someday you must come to terms with your past and your family.”

  “I know.” Jaime tugged a throw blanket under her chin as if it could shield her from Caroline’s concern. Just in time the bonus scene flicked by, and she prayed for a moment to escape to her room. She could close the door and stop Caroline from saying anything else. But that wouldn’t still the words echoing through her mind that her friend was right.

  That afternoon, after Caroline’s “mental health day” was disrupted by an emergency call from the judge, Jaime grabbed The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and headed downstairs to the exercise bike. Maybe the book would distract her while she logged some miles.

  She sank onto the saddle of a bike and started to read, flipping pages as she pedaled.

  The story was simple. Four children discovered a wardrobe in an empty room when they were evacuated from war-torn London to the country during World War II. The back of the wardrobe led to a magical world filled with fantastical creatures who were ruled by a witch. These animals believed the children fulfilled a prophecy and would free them from the witch’s control. The challenge was, one of the siblings was under the spell of the witch and the other three couldn’t quite believe they were there to fulfill anything other than saving him and getting back to England.

  Jaime had reached the point in the story where Edmund, the deceived younger brother, was freed. The words swept over her, and she could see herself in the scene with the great lion Aslan and the young boy. Maybe the scene was so powerful because of what wasn’t said. What a moment of accountability and grace. Aslan had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet the golden lion was willing to bear the penalty for what Edmund had done. The message reverberated through Jaime.

  It would be easy to say she was merely the victim. As a child those words were true. She had done nothing to deserve the evil acts her uncle had inflicted on her.

  She would forever bear those scars.

  But maybe she didn’t have to walk with a pronounced limp of brokenness the rest of her life. She felt a flicker of hope . . . Could she fan that into a flame?

  She reached for her phone and texted Caroline. You on your way back?

  Soon. Almost done here. What’s up?

  I had a question.

  There was silence then she saw the flashing that indicated Caroline was typing.

  Okay. Be there in an hour or so.

  As she waited, Jaime felt the burbles of nervousness. How could she ask her questions without Caroline going all Christian cheerleader fan-girl on her?

  She needed thoughtful answers to her questions. Maybe she should ask Chandler, but their friendship had already borne a lot of weight for an acquaintance all of two weeks old. This felt like something she should share with a friend who had walked life with her as Caroline had the last eight years. She’d better get cleaned up from the biking, or Caroline would turn around the moment she entered the apartment.

  Jaime went back to her apartment, but when she reached the bathroom she paused.

  Something was out of place.

  Caroline was more meticulous than Jaime, but in the bathroom Jaime had a system. She didn’t want to waste precious time looking for toiletries. She ran a hand over the bottles, and it hit her. Her moisturizer was out of order and backward.

  She frowned and slowly walked through the apartment again. Nothing else seemed out of place, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching.

  Half an hour later Caroline breezed into the apartment without knocking. “I like having keys. I really should try TP-ing your bedroom.”

  Jaime chuckled but didn’t move from the couch. She hadn’t been able to shake the violated feeling. “Did you use some of my moisturizer this morning?” She hurried on as Caroline quirked her head. “It’s okay if you did. I was just curious.”

  “I wouldn’t use your things, Jaime.” She folded her arms over the chest. “Is that why you called me to come here?”

  “No. Something was out of place, but it was a crazy question. Sorry.” She felt pressed against, as if the decision in front of her was a stone restricting her movement.

  Caroline came around in front of her. “You okay?”

  “I’m not sure.” She pointed at the book she’d set next to her. “I finished it.”

  “Oh.” Caroline glanced at the book, then at Jaime. “That’s a good one. Why read it?”

  “Chandler asked me to.”

  Caroline’s lips formed an O, but she stayed silent.

  Jaime twisted the blanket around her fingers. “Am I Edmund or Susan?”

  “Wow, that’s quite a question. Why not Lucy or Peter?” Caroline sank onto the edge of the futon and turned toward Jaime.

  “I don’t want to be Edmund.”

  “Edmund’s ultimately a hero in the book, Jaime.”

  “He isn’t for most of it though.”

  “Sure, but how many of us can be heroic for long periods of time, let alone our entire lives?” Caroline kicked off her shoes, then pulled her feet onto the couch. “Don’t we hope for a moment of walking in brilliant truth amid a lifetime of slogging through our days?”

  Jaime looked at her friend. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, I’m fine.” But the shadows under her eyes warned Jaime that wasn’t a fully truthful answer. “I’m here for you, remember?” She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t fall into the trap of believing you have to be one or the other. I like to think I’m Lucy with an optimistic outlook on life. I don’t want to be so meek and gentle I fade into the background like Susan.”

  “Maybe I want to be Peter the Magnificent. Blazing into battles and slaying my foes.”

  Caroline laughed. “Jaime, you are that every time you step into a courtroom. You leave your foes decimated by the power of your voice.”

  “Then why do I feel voiceless?”

  “Because you are, until the real ‘Aslan’ takes your voice and directs it.” Caroline leaned closer, and there was a fire in her gaze. “It’s only through Him that questions make sense. Even in our hardest times He is there. Sometimes we just have to look hard to find Him.”

  “I shouldn’t have to.”

  “Why? Do you think you get a special pass?” Caroline paused as if considering her words with care. “Jaime, as much as you want to be healed, God wants it for you more. He will deal with you as gently and directly as Aslan did with Edmund. He will give you the tools you need to raise a battle cry as He did with Susan. He can give you the perfect elixir for healing like He gave Lucy. And He’ll do it so you can turn around and extend healing to others the
way you are doing with Tiffany.”

  What would it be like to walk like that? To walk whole, without the deep, seeping scars? To be able to extend hope and healing to others who’d been hurt as she had?

  “Wishing it doesn’t mean it will happen.”

  “But it could. What if it did?” Caroline clutched the blanket to her. “It’s what you want. It’s what we all want.” The words whispered between them yet ricocheted through Jaime.

  It was exactly what she wanted.

  “What about all my questions? There are so many, and they aren’t going away.”

  “It’s okay. God’s got big shoulders and can handle your questions. Even the dark ones. The ones you don’t think you can ask anyone else. He’s there and wants to listen.”

  “That sounds so good.” But could she believe it?

  “He’s good. You can trust Him.”

  She’d never feel safe, no matter how secure the building she lived in or how high the apartment. The reality was her uncle had stolen much from her . . . but maybe God could restore it. Maybe He could remove the winter from her soul and replace it with the breath of spring. And maybe then she’d know what it meant to walk without fear.

  CHAPTER 34

  MONDAY, OCTOBER 15

  Despite his best efforts in arranging vacation days, Chandler had needed to go to work for an emergency with a vet. When he’d arrived at the office, the man had never shown. That wasn’t necessarily unusual, but it was odd when the impromptu appointment was set so quickly after the call. It made him antsy, even though Beth insisted the man had sounded legitimate. Something was going on that didn’t make sense, so maybe a break from work would help ease that tension.

  Now if he could help Jaime. Her friend Caroline had assured him she’d keep Jaime home, and he’d had to trust she would. Now as he drove back home, he kept an eye on the rearview mirror.

  Was that midnight-blue Mustang following him?

  He’d considered the idea that Tiffany’s molester might be the one harassing him, but it didn’t fit. The man didn’t have a military record and had seemingly disappeared since attacking Madeline. He didn’t like the fact the man was still out there, but at least Jaime had found a safe place for Madeline and Tiffany.

  Still, without more to go on, he was stymied about who might be calling and following him, and he didn’t like it. He wanted to find the man who’d been at New Delhi, see if he was the one who’d made the calls.

  Meanwhile, he could honor the promise he’d made last week to keep an eye on Jaime. He picked up his phone and touched her number. “Quick question.”

  “I might have an answer for you.” She seemed subdued yet spunky.

  “I made a promise to watch a certain movie with Tiffany last Friday. Any chance your parents would be up for company?”

  “It would give us a good excuse to check on her.”

  He frowned. “You need an excuse? They’re your parents.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Doesn’t need to be.”

  “Thank you, Captain Blunt.” She sighed. “I’ll ask Mom if we can bring over a movie and snacks. What are we seeing?”

  “Moana. So you’ll come too?”

  “You weren’t really thinking you’d go without me.”

  He could hear the teasing smile in her voice.

  “Besides, I haven’t seen that movie, but I’ve been told I should.”

  “Right. We’ll have to stop and rent it somewhere.”

  “Don’t do that. I’m pretty sure Caroline owns it.”

  “We can grab snacks on the way.”

  “I’ll let Mom know. Meet you in the lobby in ten?”

  “Sure.” That’s what he said, but no way he was going to do that again; his mama had raised him better. He’d meet her at her door and then hold the truck door for her as well.

  Aslan pranced at his feet as if he’d understood the conversation. “Yes, you’re coming too.”

  When Jaime opened the door to her apartment, she stole his breath. Her jeans and chunky maroon sweater with a down vest looked like something she should wear on a runway. All casual elegance and gaze capturing.

  “You didn’t need to come up here.”

  “It’s what we do.” He let out a low whistle. “You look great.”

  A soft rose tinged her cheeks. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and patted her oversized bag. “I’ve got the movie and bags of microwave popcorn. Mom said the distraction would be a great idea.” Aslan bumped her leg with his nose, so she rubbed his head. “Aslan is coming, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  When they reached her parents’ house, Jaime clambered out of the truck almost before he had it parked. Women usually struggled a bit with climbing from the vehicle, but Jaime’s height made it easy for her. She took off without waiting for him to catch up, and Aslan whined to be released.

  “I’ve got the same feeling, buddy.” He slid his seat forward, and the dog jumped to the ground.

  As they caught up with Jaime, her mom opened the door. “Hi, Jaime, Chandler. Do y’all mind if I run to the grocery store while you’re here? I didn’t want to leave them alone.” She grimaced. “Madeline’s gotten some texts today that have her locking down. Maybe you can find out what’s really going on.”

  “Sure, Mom. We’ve got everything we need, so take your time.”

  Jaime seemed relaxed, but Chandler noted her clenched jaw and the way her stance hardened.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Nichols.”

  The woman studied him. “I believe you will. More important, I know they’ll be safe as long as you’re here.” She hiked her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

  The little white dog came tearing around the corner and only skidded to a stop when he was nose to nose with Aslan. The dogs romped, but Chandler looked past them to the couch, where Tiffany was curled up next to Madeline, blue light from a muted TV coloring her face.

  Madeline stood and approached them.

  “Thanks for bringing us here,” she said, directing her gaze to Jaime. “Your parents are great, but Tiffany’s in a funk. She won’t even talk to me.”

  “She’s entitled.” Jaime watched the girl a moment, then her gaze met Chandler’s. “There are many ways to recover from trauma. Silence is one.”

  “Not for this long.” Madeline took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t know how to help her, and counseling is slow. If anything, it seems to make things worse.”

  “Remember, Tiffany doesn’t have the language to understand or describe what’s happened to her. Counseling will help her peel back what happened, but it will be painful. Silence feels like a safe option.” Jaime’s words had a tinge of knowledge and experience.

  Chandler returned his gaze to Tiffany and saw that Aslan had jumped onto the navy couch next to her. “Will your mom mind Aslan sitting there, Jaime?”

  “Happy’s up there all the time. I’ll gladly vacuum the couch later. The fact that Tiffany looks content is what matters. Let’s make the popcorn, and then we can run the movie.” Jaime led him down the short hallway to the kitchen.

  Madeline followed in step with him. “It’s easier to clean a couch than salvage my daughter’s soul.” She stepped into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Water’s fine.” Jaime took the bottle Madeline offered, then studied the woman. “My mom mentioned you’d gotten some texts.”

  Madeline shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle, looking cold and frail. “Corey. He says he’ll find us and take Tiffany.”

  Chandler felt a slow burn start, but Jaime placed a hand on his arm, and he actually felt the anger tame.

  “How would he know where you are?” Jaime’s words were soft.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Unless he followed you here, he doesn’t. Maybe we should check your car for a tracker.”

  “If he’d done that, he’d already have shown up.”
Chandler turned toward the hallway. “I’ll check to be sure though.”

  It didn’t take long to examine the underbody of the car to confirm there was nothing that looked like an add-on or tracking device. The man was probably making idle threats in an effort to intimidate Madeline.

  Chandler headed back inside the house and paused in the doorway of the living room. Jaime had settled next to Tiffany, allowing space between them as if inviting the girl to choose whether to trust her. As he watched, the girl shifted closer without taking her eyes from the screen. Just like that she was sandwiched between Jaime and Aslan.

  Madeline cleared her throat from the kitchen and he went into the room. She held an empty glass. “Want anything?”

  “Water is fine.”

  She handed him a bottle. He thanked her, then glanced toward the living room. “So tell me about Tiffany’s counseling.”

  “It’s a waste of time and money.” She gave him a summary, and he could sense her frustration. “They’re the experts, yet your dog does more to calm her.”

  “Trust the process.”

  “Easy to say when you aren’t the one calming her nightmares. She’s practically sleepwalking through the days.” Madeline brushed under her eyes. “But I know you’re right. It’s just hard to watch and know there’s nothing I can do right now other than be here for her.”

  “That might be what she needs most.” He set the glass down and then headed toward the couch.

  Tiffany lay curled into Jaime’s side, Jaime rhythmically brushing the little girl’s blond hair from her face as Jaime spoke softly. It didn’t seem to matter what she said, just that she spoke in a soothing voice, as the girl’s eyes drifted shut, then fluttered open. Jaime shook her head slightly at him, and he stepped behind the couch, out of Tiffany’s line of sight. It was magical watching Jaime soothe the girl.

  Twenty minutes later, Jaime carried Tiffany to the basement, staggering slightly under the girl’s weight. Once Tiffany was settled in bed, with the light on, Jaime headed back, and Chandler noted the fatigue in her stance. She still seemed to carry the weight of the girl, even though she’d tucked her into bed.