by Davis, Mary
“I’m so sorry.” It was lame, but she didn’t know what else to say.
He sat on the end of the bed, raked his hands through his hair, and held his head. She had seen him like this before. He was thinking and worried.
Did he hate her? She covered her mouth with her hand. Please, Lord, don’t let me have ruined everything. Fix my mistake.
“James 1:1.”
She took an unsteady breath. “What?”
Roger raised his head. “The password. James 1:1. ‘James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ.’ Moore picked the password.”
So she never would have figured it out. “Can’t we go back for the bag? Surely whoever was there is gone by now.”
“And they have the CD too.”
“Maybe not.” She went over and knelt on the floor in front of him. “Would they have taken the bag or just searched it?”
“Why?”
“Well, I figure they would search the bag. The only reason to take the bag is if they thought the CD was in it. And if they thought that, they would take it. So if the bag is still there, the CD probably is too.”
“And you don’t think they would have found it when they dumped the bag and searched all the pockets?”
“They could have missed it. I hid it.”
Roger put his hands gently on her shoulders. “They have it.”
“I hid it in the bottom cardboard thing where there’s a hole.”
“What are you talking about?”
“In the bottom of the bag is a piece of plastic-covered cardboard that makes the bottom stay flat. There’s a tear in one end of the plastic. I slipped the CD in there, and the cardboard piece sticks to the bottom of the diaper bag because juice spilled in it. It looks like the bottom of the bag. They would probably have no reason to take it out, and it wouldn’t likely fall out even if they dumped the bag.”
Roger was silent as he stared at her and tried to understand what she had said.
“Come on—I’ll show you.”
He held her in place. “I’ll go. I need you and RJ to stay here.” He looked resigned to his fate. Did he think he wasn’t coming back? “Promise me you’ll stay put.”
“I promise.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“This isn’t a game. These guys play for keeps.”
“I know.” It had taken her a long time to believe someone was indeed after him—them.
“I will be back. I promise. I won’t leave again without you and RJ. Once I turn the CD over to the authorities, we’ll have to lie low while they round everyone up.”
She nodded. “If only I had trusted you.”
“I didn’t make it easy for you.” He pulled her close and kissed her before he left.
Lord, protect Roger and keep him safe.
Jackie turned to the bed where RJ was lying on his side, sucking his thumb. When she looked at him, he stood and held one arm and an elbow out to her with his thumb securely in his mouth. She picked him up and felt the toy Harley tangle in her hair.
“Hungee,” RJ said around the thumb in his mouth.
Jackie located the bag of provisions and found some applesauce cups. She bibbed him in a towel from the bathroom, opened one of the cups, and gave it to him. RJ sat on the floor and spooned out the applesauce hungrily.
Jackie sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Something reminded her of the women’s retreat she’d attended last month. The theme of the weekend was trust. One of the speaker’s talks was on trusting your husband. She thought she had until he came back. Since then, everything regarding Roger was confusing. The speaker said to trust that your husband had your best interests at heart. Did he? Could she really trust Roger completely after all the hurt and pain he’d caused her? No. But she could trust God to get her and RJ out of this situation safely. But Roger? God chose him. . .put him over you, the speaker had said. God wasn’t asking her to trust Roger but to trust Him. Roger wasn’t in charge here. God was and always had been. Lord, I do trust You. And I trust You will get us all out of this safely. A peace and a hope she couldn’t understand washed over her.
RJ came up to her with an unopened applesauce cup. “Nudder one.”
Jackie opened it, and he went back to his spot on the floor to eat it. Finally she could trust Roger because she trusted God. He was telling her the truth, and everything made sense, even the things she didn’t know.
Oh, Father God. I’ve only been going through the motions of Christianity. Attending church. Reading the Bible. But none of it sank in. It just bounced off the surface of my life. I haven’t even felt alive these past two and a half years. Drifting from one day to the next, doing it all on the outside but inside hiding the emptiness.
For the first time in ages, she wanted to read the Bible, not out of duty or obligation, but to be fed and comforted. She opened the nightstand drawer and, bless the Gideons, found a Bible. Not knowing where to go, she flipped it open to Psalm 20 and read. Each verse struck her as new and poignant. When was the last time she felt the Word speaking directly to her, to her needs?
She couldn’t just sit around this dingy motel and do nothing. She should take RJ and find a place to hide until Roger had retrieved the CD and given it to the authorities. They would be looking for Roger, not her. Couldn’t Roger hide and move more easily on his own? She scooped up RJ and the bag of food. But how was this trusting God or Roger? What if the men out to get Roger found her? Her breathing came in short little puffs. She should stay and wait. She stared at the door trying to decide. This was stupid. She had no clue where to go to hide. She set RJ on the bed and turned on the TV.
She started at the frantic banging on the door.
“Jackie, open up! Hurry!”
She rushed to the door and fumbled with the chain. She pulled it off and turned the knob. The force on the door pushed her backward. She gasped. It wasn’t Roger.
Twelve
It was still early, and the traffic was light. Roger made it to the motel in good time. He pulled into the parking lot. It was mostly quiet except for a few early risers hefting their suitcases into the trunks of their cars. The door to the room they had occupied stood slightly ajar. Please let the bag still be there with the CD. He drove around back and parked. He drew his gun and made his way slowly around the end of the building. He took a deep breath before nudging the door open all the way. The room was empty, but he checked it anyway to be sure.
The contents of the diaper bag and Jackie’s purse were scattered across the beds. He grabbed the empty diaper bag and looked in. Nothing. He looked closer. Jackie was right. The flat bottom did look like part of the bag. He wedged his fingers under one edge and pulled up. The plastic-covered cardboard came loose with a sort of snapping noise. Juice was obviously a good adhesive. He found the slit and pulled out the envelope encased in a zipped-up baggie. The CD was tucked safely inside. Now he would see that everyone responsible paid for Moore’s death. He wouldn’t stop until every last one of them was brought down. He owed it to Moore to nail as many as possible.
A verse entered his thoughts. “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.”
I’m still doing it, aren’t I , Lord? I’ve taken back this quest into my own hands. I started this battle. You didn’t authorize it, and I’ve kept at it at great personal sacrifice. I need to know all who are responsible will get what is due them.
Another verse came to mind. “Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished.”
He shook his head. This was never my fight. You only wanted me to trust You for justice in this. I have held onto this for so long. How do I let go? I can’t trust our justice system not to mess things up when it lets criminals slip through.
Trust Me! And yet another verse came to encourage him. “The Lord is slow to anger and great in power; the Lord will not leave the guilty unpunished.”
Okay, Lord. I’ll turn over the CD and tru
st You to take care of the rest. Even if all the guilty ones aren’t caught in this world, You’ll deal with them in the next. He paused. Even if no one is caught, I’ll trust Your will to be done. The lightness in his soul was like nothing he had ever felt. He had given the situation over to God before—or at least he thought he had. But now he knew it was in God’s hands, and the outcome was in His control and would be fine.
He holstered his Glock and collected the contents of the diaper bag and Jackie’s purse. His newfound peace was strange. Now to get Jackie and RJ and go to the authorities. He climbed on his bike and turned onto the street. He took the most direct route back to the motel but made sure no one was following. As soon as he slipped inside the door, he knew something was terribly wrong. The silence was eerie. He pulled out his gun and moved slowly through the room.
Jackie and RJ were nowhere. Where had they gone? Why hadn’t she stayed? He pulled the CD from his pocket. “What do I do with you now?” he asked, staring at it.
He leaned on the dresser. “No, Jackie. You promised. We were so close. Please not back home. Were the looks and the words and the feelings just to gain my trust so you could escape?”
Something in the mirror caught his eye. He turned to the bed and plucked RJ’s toy Harley from between the rumples in the bedspread. RJ wouldn’t leave this willingly. Would Jackie have taken it from RJ because she was mad at him? She didn’t seem mad when he left. Even so, she would have let RJ keep it. So why would the toy be here but not them? No, Lord. Not that.
He raced for the door. He would find them and rip Sweeny’s heart out if he harmed either one of them. As he pulled the door shut, the phone rang. He jammed the room key into the lock and picked up the phone before the third ring.
“I’ve got your wife and boy. Sit tight. I’ll be in touch.”
He stumbled back to the bed. He should have taken them with him. He never should have left them here unprotected. How could he be so stupid? Moore was dead because of him and now Jackie and RJ. When would he learn? He paced back and forth in the room like a tiger in a cage. The walls were narrow and confining. But this room was bigger than the space Sweeny had given him after their encounter in California. He touched the side with the jagged scar.
He hit the wall with his fist. Why hadn’t he taken his family and left town? They could have started over somewhere with new names. Why? Because he had to see this thing to the end, make sure justice was served. It had become revenge for him—and Jackie and RJ its victims.
❧
Jackie held RJ close to her side in the front seat of the car. The man steered the car through the streets with one hand and held his gun against RJ’s back with the other. Her only comfort was that if he pulled the trigger the bullet would go through her son and kill her too. This man would kill them both if she gave him trouble. She was sure of it. And now Roger’s fear had come to pass. She and RJ were being used against him. How could she have been so stupid? Roger had the key. He wouldn’t have called her to the door to open it.
The Lord would provide a way out of this, and even if He didn’t it would be okay. She had a strange peace. She would wait for her opportunity and hope she had the courage to take it when it came.
The man pulled in behind a grungy, run-down building. “Get out.”
She scooted out with RJ in her arms, jiggling him up and down to soothe him. He was cranky and hungry. The man ushered them up to the door. It was boarded and had a condemned sign on it. “Put him down and pull the boards loose.” He was slightly taller than Roger with hardly any meat on his bones, certainly no muscle.
“I can’t.”
“You’d better, or I’ll put you down here and save myself some trouble.” He pressed his gun to the back of her neck.
She wasn’t ready to die yet and set RJ down next to her. He cried and tried to climb up her. She forced herself to ignore his pleas while she struggled with the boards.
“Shut him up!”
“I can’t and get these boards off.”
He grabbed the board she was pulling on and gave it a yank. The board came free, and he twisted the knob. “Get inside!”
She picked up RJ and ducked between the boards. He pushed her along the hallway. The spongy floor bowed beneath her.
“Shut him up.”
“He’s hungry and scared.”
He raised his gun to RJ. “If you don’t shut him up, I will.”
She caressed his back. “Shhh, Honey. If you’re quiet for Mommy, I’ll get you a whole box of cookies.”
RJ continued to squirm and cry.
“I’ll get you chocolate candy, if you’re quiet for Mommy.”
RJ sucked in a ragged breath. “Chocoe.”
“Only if you are very, very quiet.”
RJ tried his best not to make noise, but his breathing was still ragged and his voice whiny. “Chocoe now.”
“No. When we leave, if you are very quiet.” She held him close and kissed his head.
The man shoved her in the back. “Keep moving.”
She was, but she walked a little faster. She didn’t want to give him more of a reason than he already had to dispose of her. She passed a gaping hole in the wall to her right. She was approaching the front of the building. Certainly he didn’t want her to go out the front.
He gripped her elbow hard, pinching it in his grasp, and turned her around the corner. “Go up.”
She marched up the stairs and pushed open the fire door at the top. He pushed her to the right. She slowed toward the end of the hallway.
“In there.” He guided her into a grimy apartment with water stains down the walls. Paper, rusty food cans, wood scraps, and other debris littered the floor, but at least it seemed solid. “Over there.”
She walked to the wrought-iron room divider that sectioned off what must have been the living room from a small dining area. Tipped over in the corner was a broken, two-legged chair.
“Hug it.” He motioned to the room divider.
She wrapped one arm around the room divider while keeping RJ in the other.
He handcuffed one wrist. “Things will go better for you and the boy if you cooperate with me.”
She glared at him.
“Help me get the disc from Villeroy, and I’ll let you and the boy live.”
She doubted that. “What disc?”
“The one he was supposed to get from you. Give me your other wrist.”
Was this her opportunity? She leaned down and set RJ on the floor. He protested, but she couldn’t help it. She stood up fast and brought her fists under the man’s chin, then swung out with her foot and kicked him in the shin. Scooping up RJ, she ran out of the room and down the hall and pulled open the fire door. She heard footsteps and the man cursing behind her. She rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and headed for the exit. Just as she reached it, the floor gave way, and she landed with one leg up to the knee through the rotting boards. RJ was sitting safely on the floor ahead of her. She heard the man’s footsteps slow. She struggled to free herself, but the splintered wood dug into her flesh.
“I have half a mind to leave you there. But I have to go make a call, and you might free yourself.” He stomped on the floor near the opening, careful not to fall through himself, and made the hole bigger. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet.
Pain raced through her calf as splinters stabbed her flesh. Through the rips in her jeans, she could see blood. She picked up RJ and hobbled at gunpoint back up the stairs and to the room with the wrought-iron divider. He cuffed her other wrist.
He rubbed his chin. “I won’t forget this.”
“Roger will come for us.”
“I’m counting on it. But I hold all the cards. Villeroy’s fate is sealed. As soon as he walks through the door, he’s a dead man. I take the disc off him and dispose of the two of you.” He ran a single finger down her cheek. “Too bad.”
She didn’t like the cold menacing look in his eyes and jerked her head quickly, biting down on
his hand.
He howled and yanked his finger free, then pointed his gun at her. “I’m going to enjoy taking care of you. And don’t think I’ll be merciful.” He stalked out.
She folded herself down into a sitting position, and RJ crawled onto her lap. “Shhh. Remember the chocolate.” He whimpered in her arms, trying his best to be quiet.
At least now she knew she had the courage to take an opportunity when it came. She would crawl to her death if it freed RJ from this murderer’s clutches. Her leg throbbed, and she prayed for strength to endure the pain.
❧
Roger couldn’t sit around the motel room doing nothing. He paced back and forth again. He had the CD but now couldn’t turn it over to the authorities. It was his only bargaining chip. He would use it to rescue his family, then work on getting it back. He wished he could risk leaving and making a copy of it. Sweeny would give him no extra time to do that.
On the nightstand sat an open Bible. He picked it up and read Psalm 20. What had Jackie been reading? He flipped over to Daniel 3 and found comfort in the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. Lord, I know You are with Jackie and RJ wherever they are. Keep them safe in their fiery furnace. He continued to read until the phone interrupted him. He jumped to answer it.
“I have what you want. Do you have what I want?”
“I want to talk to Jackie.”
“Not possible. Do you have it?”
Not possible? That could mean a lot of things. They were still alive. They had to be. “Yes. Let’s get this over with.”
“First, the password. And don’t give me something I can’t use again.”
He took a slow, deep breath. “James 1:1.” He was hoping to hold onto that ace.
“You’d better be telling the truth.” Sweeny gave him the address. “It will take you seventeen or eighteen minutes to get here. I’ll give you twenty on account of morning traffic. If you’re not here by then, all you’ll find are two corpses. Oh, and don’t even think of calling the police. Very bad for your family’s health. The clock is ticking.”