Randy pivoted left. From the corner of his eye he saw Shaley. She screamed and fell to the floor.
The HT reeled back from the window. He hit the wall hard, a gun falling from his hand. Randy’s shouts blended with his team’s. “On the ground, on the ground!”
Fledger lunged toward a table loaded with weapons.
Randy aimed his gun. “On the ground now!”
The HT’s hand launched out, scrabbled for a gun.
47
Deafening gunfire burst through the cabin. I curled into a ball on the floor, arms over my head. The whole world was breaking apart.
The seconds jarred into slow motion. I heard men’s shouts. More gunfire. I twisted my head toward the kitchen window. Saw Joshua slam back against the wall. His arms came up. One wrist hit the window frame, the other smacked into the edge of a cabinet. Horror and shock gripped his face. His glazed eyes cut toward me.
For a final split instant we stared at each other.
Joshua’s eyes rolled back in his head. His arms fell. He collapsed to his knees and onto his side.
Men ran toward him.
Joshua twitched. Then lay still.
The world spun.
It couldn’t have happened so fast. After the last two horrible days? I’d dreamed this rescue. Any minute now Joshua would wake me up, drag me out of the cabin. Tell me what to do, where to go. Hit me if I didn’t obey…
Darkness closed around me. A sea swept me out…away…
“Shaley.” A man’s voice seeped into my senses. Not Joshua’s. “Shaley.”
Hands on my shoulders. A gentle shake. “Shaley. It’s okay now.”
My eyes opened. A man knelt over me, dressed in camouflage and a thick bulletproof vest. A helmet lay on the floor beside him. He had dark hair and large, dark eyes. The kindest face I’d ever seen in my life.
My mouth moved. No words came.
He smiled. “It’s okay now. It’s okay.”
“Who—who are you?”
“I’m Randy. We came to help you.”
Randy. The SWAT team.
All the memories flooded back. And the fear. I gripped Randy’s sleeve. “Where’s Joshua?”
Randy shook his head. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”
Relief and elation and exhaustion swept through me like a tidal wave. I sat up and threw my arms around Randy. Burst into wild sobs. “Thank you, thank you!”
He stroked my hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
The sobs kept coming. I couldn’t let go of him, and I couldn’t stop crying.
I sensed other men crowding around. Heard voices in radios. “It’s done. HT’s taken out. Hostage is fine.”
A new thought spiraled through me. I pulled away from Randy. Tipped my face up to his. “I want to talk to my mom!”
Part 4
Saturday, Four Weeks Later
48
Through teary eyes I watched Mom walk down the aisle in her stunning wedding dress, escorted by Ross and Stan. Her face was radiant, full of love for my dad. He stood waiting at the front of the huge church, hands clasped in front of him, a wavering smile on his lips. I knew he was trying not to cry.
The church was packed with our friends, old and new. Every person who’d helped find me had been invited. Agent Scarrow, his FBI team, the Utah State Police members who’d tried to rescue me from the first cabin. Ed and Jean Carroll, whose trailer Joshua had broken into. And the SWAT team.
Unable to forget the terrible days they’d spent at Ed Schering’s mansion, Mom and Dad had chosen this church in Southern California for the wedding. But they’d taken their time. I’d needed a new bridesmaid dress. And we’d wanted a month’s healing behind us—both emotionally and physically. I’d told them everything that had happened to me. They and the FBI had been surprised to hear some of the details, like the car trunk Joshua had put me in after the van. They hadn’t even known about that vehicle. As for my bruises, they’d turned from purple and black to greenish yellow, finally fading, then disappearing completely.
My gaze slid from Mom toward a pew she’d just passed, where Randy Sullivan sat with his wife. He caught my eye and smiled. My eyes burned all the more. I clamped my mouth together and nodded.
“I’ve been dreaming of this day my entire life!”
Four weeks ago I’d said that to my mom. Now the day was finally coming true.
“She’s so beautiful,” Brittany whispered beside me.
“I know.” Underneath my bouquet, I rubbed Dad’s ring, stuck on my forefinger.
All eyes were on Mom, but she could only look at the man she loved.
My thoughts flashed back to the day I was rescued. To driving toward Peace with Rick Schwartz until we picked up a phone signal. Calling my mom on his cell. I remembered the moment I first heard her voice. I slumped toward the dashboard, crying and crying. Mom sobbed too. Then Dad was on the line. He couldn’t even talk except for one word. “Shaley…Shaley…Shaley.”
I threw him a look across the aisle. He was fixated on Mom. His clasped hands fidgeted with excitement.
Thank you, God. Thank you.
The three of us had done a lot of talking since our reunion. About God, and how he cares for us, even while allowing trouble to come into our lives. That was the hardest part to understand—why God let everything happen. Still, in the end our prayers had been answered.
Mom, Stan, and Ross reached the front pew. A few more steps and they neared Gary.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the black-robed preacher asked.
“I do.” Ross spoke the words with animation. His eyebrows rose. This was his moment, and he was going to make the most of it. “I do.”
“And I do!” Stan said even louder.
“And me!” I burst out. “And me!”
A chuckle ran through the audience.
Mom threw me a smile. Her eyes said: Shaley, don’t make me cry.
I watched Ross and Stan place Mom’s hand into Dad’s and step back. As the entire bridal party turned toward the preacher, tears spilled down my face. I couldn’t stop them.
I didn’t even want to try.
Discussion Questions for Final Touch
These discussion questions can be used in a book club (a mother-daughter book club, a teen book club) or even as questions to use with friends also reading this book.
When this story opens, it’s the happiest day of Shaley’s life. What has been your happiest day? Why?
If you were Brittany, would you blame yourself for not going with Shaley to get the ring? If your best friend was kidnapped, what would you do?
Rayne and Gary are new Christians. Have you ever seen something bad happen to someone soon after he or she became a Christian? How did that person cope?
Have you ever really loved someone but couldn’t be with them? Imagine you’re Rayne or Gary: What would you have felt if your daughter had been taken away?
Do you think that Shaley felt as though God had abandoned her when she was kidnapped? Have you ever felt like God abandoned you in your greatest need?
Joshua called himself a Christian but didn’t act like one at all. Do you know someone like that? If so, how do you interact with this person?
In chapter 27, Shaley said that she had no strength to pray, but she had enough to be angry with her captor. Have you ever felt so helpless or been so angry at God that you couldn’t pray? How did you deal with those feelings?
At the beginning of chapter 36, Shaley is losing hope. If you were her, would you fight back or give up
As time passes, Shaley has to take a big risk to get help, one that could get Joshua very angry. Would you have taken the risk she did? Explain.
At the end of the book, Shaley concludes it’s hard to understand why God allowed her to be kidnapped. Do you ever wonder why God allows things to happen like they do? Do you believe God does everything for a reason?
Have you ever met someone that people said couldn’t be helped, but you tried to help him or
her anyway? Do you think God sent you for that purpose? Why or why not?
What part of Final Touch was your favorite? Why?
What has this story taught you about God?
Many thanks to teens Emily Love, Dylan DeVries, Ashley Harman, and Nicole Blocher for writing discussion questions for Final Touch.
Always Watching
Brandilyn Collins & Amberly Collins
Read chapter 1 of Always Watching,
Book 1 in The Rayne Tour.
1
The screams of twenty thousand people sizzled in my ears. “Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign!”
At the sold-out HP Pavilion in San Jose, California, the crowd chanted and clapped and stomped for my mom’s group, Rayne—named after her—to do one more song before they left the stage. As usual I stood backstage with Tom Hutchens, my mom’s twenty-five-year-old hairdresser and makeup artist and my closest friend on tour. Tom was short and slim, with thick black hair and an intense-looking face that didn’t match his crazy personality at all.
Tom feigned the pucker of a hip-hop artist and splayed his fingers in front of his red T-shirt. “Yo, she reign, they go insane!” He had to shout at me, his Vans-clad feet dancing. Tom always wore these wild-looking sneakers with blue, white, and red checks and a red racing stripe on the sides. “Ain’t nothin’ plain about rockin’ Rayne!”
I punched him in the arm, laughing. His silly rap rhymes were getting worse by the day.
With her blonde hair bouncing, Mom came flying down the steps on the way to her private dressing room for the two-minute break. Sweat shone on her forehead as she passed by. She flashed her red-lipped grin at me and raised a palm. We high-fived as she sped past.
“They love us, Shaley!”
“Course, Mom, they always do!”
The rest of the rock group—Kim, Morrey, Rich, and Stan—descended more slowly, their faces showing fatigue. None of them had the energy of my mother after a concert. Tom and I gave them a quick thumbs-up before scurrying after Mom.
As we hit the dressing room with Rayne O’Connor’s name on the door, I checked my watch. 10:45. Yay! Almost time to head to the airport and pick up my best friend, Brittany. I hadn’t seen her since Rayne started touring three months ago, and I couldn’t wait to be with her again. This was Rayne’s third tour, and I always found it hard to leave all my school friends behind.
Without Tom to keep me laughing, touring would be terribly lonely.
I walked in and closed the dressing room door, shutting out some of the noise.
“Whoo!” Mom crossed to the left side of the room and plopped into the makeup chair facing a long, brightly lit mirror. To her right sat a wooden armoire full of her clothing. She always changed outfits during intermission. Along the back wall were the blue sofa and matching armchairs specified by contract for her dressing area in every arena. Opposite the makeup counter was the table loaded with catered food, also specified by contract—bowls of fruit, sandwiches, pasta salad, cheese cubes, chips…and M&M’s for me.
Mom studied herself in the mirror with her large crystal blue eyes. “Okay, Tom, do your magic.” She guzzled a drink from a water bottle on the counter.
Like she needed any magic. With her high cheekbones, oval face, and full lips, Mom was drop-dead gorgeous.
Tom winked at me as he snatched up a tissue. Sticking his scrawny neck out, he scrutinized Mom with animation—eyes narrowed and his mouth a rounded O. “Hm. Hmm.”
He sighed, stood back, and spread his hands as if to say nothing to be done here, you’re perfect.
Mom rolled her eyes at me. I shrugged. As if I could control Tom’s antics.
“All right, lover boy.” Mom took another swig of water. “Get to it! I’ve got one minute left.”
“Yo, big Mama.”
Mom swatted his hand. “Would you stop calling me that? I don’t know why I put up with you.” Her mouth curved.
Tom leaned in to blot her face with the tissue. “’Cause I make you look bodacious, that’s why.” Expertly, he retouched her blusher and lipstick and fluffed her hair.
Out in the arena, the crowd’s yells and applause were growing louder. I smiled and squeezed Mom’s shoulder. At every concert the fans went wild, but it never got old for me. Night after night their adoration made my chest swell with pride for my mom.
Five years ago when I was eleven and Mom was twenty-eight, Rayne was barely hanging on. Mom and the band played little concerts here and there, working night and day to get noticed. I remember how hard she tried back then. A great lyric writer with a distinct, throaty-edged voice, she deserved to make it big. Then the song “Far and Near” hit the radio, and after that—a rocket launch.
Tom stood back and surveyed Mom, his head cocked to one side. “Not bad. Not bad a-tall.”
“Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign!” The crowd was going crazy out there.
Mom tossed her hair back and looked at herself from side to side. “Great.” She sprang from the chair. “Gotta go.” She hurried toward the door.
I moved out of her way. “Mom, don’t forget, Tom and I are going to pick up Brittany in ten minutes. We’re leaving a little early because Tom wants to stop by a drugstore.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Mom pulled up short, one hand on the door knob. She looked to Tom. “Somebody else doing your cleanup?”
He glanced at me. “Got it taken care of.”
Disappointment pulled at my mouth. Mom knew how I’d counted the days until Brittany’s and my junior year of high school ended—just yesterday. My tutor had flown home this morning, and now Brittany was coming for two weeks. Mom was paying all her expenses—for that I was so grateful. But Mom could get so wrapped up in her work. Sometimes I just needed her to remember me.
Mom looked my way—and caught my expression. She smiled too wide, as if to make up for her distraction. “I’m so glad Brittany’s coming, Shaley. We’ll show her a great time.”
I nodded.
“Mick’s going with you, right?”
“Yeah.”
Mick Rader had been my mom’s main personal bodyguard for the past three years. The other two, Bruce Stolz and Wendell Bennington, would guard her on her way to the hotel tonight while Mick was with me.
“Okay, good. You’ll be safe.” Mom smiled as she opened the door. The crowd’s screams rushed in. “See you at the hotel.”
She blew me a kiss and disappeared.
The yelling suddenly frayed my nerves. I pushed the door shut and leaned against it.
Tom shot me his sad clown look, his lips turned down and eyebrows pulled into a V. He always read my mind so well.
I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay.”
His expression whisked away. Tom struck his hip-hop pose. “Got a new one for ya.”
“Oh, yeah?” I knew he’d come up with the lyrics as he went along, just to get me laughing again.
Tom’s feet started their shuffle-dance. “Let’s go for a ride down the avenue. Top down, windblown, my VW. The talk of the town in all we do. Shaley O’Connor puttin’ on the view—”
He froze, mouth open, frowning hard. Then he jerked back into dancing. “Can’t think of another line, can you?”
I giggled. “Great, Tom, as fabulous as all your others.”
He bowed. “Thank ya, thank yaaa.”
Pulling up straight, he glanced at the wall clock. “Yikes! I gotta take care of some things before the limo comes. Meet you at the back exit?”
“Okay.”
As the door closed behind him, I crossed the room to check myself in the mirror. Excitement pulsed through my veins. Almost time to see Brittany! I chose a neutral lipstick and leaned toward the glass to apply it. Thanks to Tom, I’d learned a lot of makeup tricks, and my face needed little retouching. Finished with the lipstick, I ran a brush through my long brown hair. Tom had recently layered it and feathered the bangs. I liked the look.
Despite the difference in hair color, many people said
I looked like my mother. I considered that a high compliment.
I stood back and turned side to side. Not bad. My new designer jeans fit well, and the blue top matched my eyes. Brittany would love the outfit. I grinned at myself, then glanced at the clock. Almost time for the limo to arrive.
In the arena, the crowd roared. Rayne was taking the stage. The first of two encore songs started—the band’s new hit, “Do It Up Right.”
For a few minutes I paced the room impatiently, munching M&M’s. Rayne launched into their final song of the night.
Two hard knocks sounded on the door—Mick’s signal. He stuck his square-shaped head inside. Mick is in his forties, ex-military. He has a thick neck and muscles out to here. Nobody messes with Mick. “Shaley, you ready?”
“Yes! Is the limo waiting?”
“Yeah.” His deep-set brown eyes swept the room. “Where’s Tom?”
“He said he had to take care of a few things. He’ll meet us at the door.” I crossed to the couch to pick up my purse.
“Okay. I’m going to stop in the bathroom, then I’ll see you there.” He gave me his squinty-eyed stare. “Don’t step outside of the building without me.”
I flicked a look at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah.” Mick was so protective. It’s not like I’d be in any danger walking out that door. As with all arenas where Rayne sang, the HP Pavilion had a special entrance for performers, guarded by the arena’s own local security. And that whole section of the parking lot was roped off and guarded. No chance for any fans or paparazzi to sneak in.
Mick jabbed a finger at me for emphasis, then left.
Tingling with anticipation, I scurried out the door, intent on checking the other dressing rooms for Tom. No time to wait, let’s go, let’s go! Having been at the arena since four o’clock when sound checks began, I’d already learned the layout of the backstage area. There were eight dressing rooms—Mom’s the biggest.
I hurried down the wide hall, mouthing “hi” to people I passed. The sound and light crews were still working, but the backline crew—the guys who maintain all the instruments and switch them out during performances—were done now. Set carpenters, managers, and all the people who tore down the stage milled around until the concert ended.
Final Touch Page 15