She took a deep breath. “You’re right, I guess. I do owe them both.”
“Yes. So, please, tell me what you know.”
“When we were little Paul was kidnapped by our nanny. I was five. He was eight. The police searched everywhere but eventually they gave up. Almost two years later we got a call. Police had picked him up wandering on the side of a road. He was injured and he had these terrible scars on his face and a broken nose. But he knew who he was, his address and phone number and the police brought him home. He said that the nanny had been holding him in a cabin by a lake, but she was never found.”
Gretchen dropped her eyes to the ground. “My parents were overjoyed. A few weeks later they had a plastic surgeon fix his face up. Paul was so happy to be home and he knew everything about everyone, the house. No one even questioned that it might not be him.”
“Except for you.”
“Except for me. He looked similar and two years and all those scars and who could tell if he really was the same kid. We had a fort in a tree in the backyard that was our special place. Three days after he came home he came out to the fort where I was and he didn’t know our secret password to get in.”
Mark frowned. It wasn’t the game changing piece of information he was hoping for. “It had been almost two years and as you pointed out there was so much trauma.”
“There was no way he would have forgotten,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “He remembered all kinds of stupid things, like what presents I got at my birthday party the month before he was kidnapped. But he didn’t know the one secret that we had. Not only did he not know the password, but he also didn’t even know there was a password. Even weirder when I finally told him what it was it seemed to freak him out.”
“The word itself freaked him out?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?” Mark prompted.
“I told Mom and Dad.”
“But they didn’t believe you,” Mark guessed.
“No. They told me what you did just now. And when I insisted they thought that I was just jealous because he was getting so much attention.”
The tears that she had been holding back began to roll down her cheeks. “It was terrible, unfair. They didn’t get that I wanted him to be home as much as they did.”
“Thank you for telling me that,” Mark said.
She nodded.
“Was there anything else unusual, different about him?”
“He used to be a fussy eater when we were little, but after he came back he ate everything. We always thought it was because he was just grateful to be home and to have enough food. He was super skinny when he came home. And he didn’t want to ever go to church again. He said he spent two years praying that someone would rescue him and no one ever did. Mom and Dad made him go but after a few weeks they just let him stay home.”
He turned and walked the few remaining feet to his car. “Before I go can you just answer one more question?”
“I’ll try.”
“What was your secret password?”
She smiled. “We picked it one day after Sunday School because of the way the teacher kept using the word. She had this really funny accent and it made us laugh. Our password was Righteousness.”
~
Jeremiah returned to the house after running some errands. He was wired, keyed up still. And there were still so many questions about the future that he wasn’t ready to face. Captain was overjoyed to have him home and he took the dog for a short walk. They had just made it back to the house when his phone rang.
“Hi, Mark,” Jeremiah said. “Thanks again for everything,” he said.
“I wish I could have done more,” the detective said. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Thank you.”
The detective cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to call, but I wanted to let you know that I found out some more information about what it was like when Not Paul was found as a kid. The sister opened up and talked to me.”
“That’s great. Speaking of Not Paul, we should get back to our sessions.”
Mark hesitated. “I didn’t want to push you.”
“It’s important. I need to regain some normalcy and you need to keep progressing so you can get cleared to work again.”
There was another hesitation and then Mark asked quietly, “Do you think that will ever happen again?”
Jeremiah rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Mark was in a bad place and he needed reassurance. As a counselor, that wasn’t Jeremiah’s place. It was his place to listen and evaluate. As a friend, though, he owed him something more.
He cleared his throat. “You asked me once if I thought you did the right thing.”
“Yes?” Mark asked, and from the tone of his voice Jeremiah could tell the other man wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
“I think you did.”
The relief in Mark’s voice was painfully apparent. “So, in my shoes you would have done the same thing?”
Jeremiah took a deep breath. “No, in your shoes, I would have killed him.”
There was silence for a long time and then Mark finally said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Jeremiah said. “I’ll see you Thursday.” He hung up before the detective could say anything.
He made a mental note to tell Marie to put it on his schedule. He had called her briefly the night before and learned that the only thing he had really missed when he had been gone had been an ant infestation. Otto, it seemed, had never shown up for his Wednesday appointment and neither of them knew even his last name or contact info. Jeremiah wasn’t sure what had happened to change the old man’s mind about keeping the appointment, but when Otto decided to talk, maybe he’d pop up again. Until then, he had far more pressing things to take care of.
~
After breakfast Cindy didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d already talked to her parents the night before and even her brother, Kyle. She’d been so grateful to be alive and to hear their voices that she hadn’t even thrown any darts at the dartboard that had Kyle’s face on it on the back of her door. She had kept up the practice although since having to throw darts at actual people on St. Patrick’s Day it seemed much more gruesome than it used to. Now, though, she was determined not to let the skill go rusty, just in case.
As soon as the breakfast dishes had been cleared away Geanie had gone into full wedding preparation mode. She and Joseph were going out to look at a few places where they might be able to hold a reception. They invited her along, but Cindy wasn’t in the mood.
Once she was home alone, though, she realized that the last thing she wanted was to be alone. It just reminded her of slowly starving alone in the house her captors had stuck her in. By the time it was noon she was climbing the walls.
She finally drove over to Jeremiah’s house. She wanted to see how he was. When she got there she realized he might actually be at the synagogue but to her relief he opened his door.
“How are you?” he asked as he stepped back to let her in.
She opened her mouth and words escaped her. He was watching her so intently as he closed the door. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest and began to sob. She felt him wrap his arms around her and hold her. At one point she could tell he was rubbing her back. Later he was stroking her hair. And through it all he kept speaking, whisper soft. As the tears began to dry, she realized he was speaking in Hebrew, and a minute later realized that he must have been praying the entire time.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last as she pulled away. She stared at the wet spot her tears had left on his pale blue shirt.
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” he told her. “Do you believe me?”
She nodded her head.
“Good. Now come in and let’s sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Soda, if you have it.”
A minute later they were seated on the couch in the living room. He had set two sodas and an
envelope down on the coffee table.
“I thought you might be at the synagogue this morning.”
He shrugged. “Marie had already lined up a replacement and I took advantage of it. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion they’re planning some kind of surprise. I figured I could wait a week to find out what it is.”
“I’m getting a party tomorrow at church Geanie tells me.”
“You’re friends want to celebrate your safe return.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I just don’t feel like celebrating.”
“I understand. You’ve been through a great shock. It will take a while for things to return to normal.”
“Will they ever?” she asked him, staring deeply into his eyes.
He had a past. She was sure of that now. Things that he hid from her, from the world. Something told her that he could help her with what she was going through.
He shrugged. “They might. Then again, they might not.”
“What do I do if they don’t?”
“You learn to adapt, survive. Life will change, but that is not all bad. And one day you will wake up and realize that you are no longer as afraid as you were.”
“I’ve spent my whole life afraid and I’m tired of it.”
He gave her a tight smile. “Acknowledging that is the first step in fighting back.”
She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
“Then don’t be.”
It seemed so simple when he said it that way, but how did one overcome a lifetime of fear?
“I mean, this is ridiculous,” she said, looking up at him. “I want to feel good, happy, alive.”
“You will,” he promised.
“I don’t want to be terrified of going on vacation again, of what will happen.”
“You know, there’s a simple solution, really to that one,” he said, and something in his voice sounded different, excited, eager maybe.
“And what’s that?” Cindy asked.
“You can’t go on vacation by yourself anymore.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to crack a smile, but he didn’t.
“What did you have in mind?” she questioned, somewhat bewildered.
“I’m glad you asked,” he said, grinning. “Seeing as how you’ve been really needing a vacation and you didn’t get one, I thought something like this might be in order.” He slid the envelope across the coffee table to her.
She picked it up and opened it, curiosity burning inside her. When she pulled out the contents she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Then, slowly, she felt a grin begin to spread across her face.
“So, Cindy, what are we going to do next?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.
She waved the tickets in the air. “We’re going to Disneyland!”
Look for
RESTORETH MY SOUL
Coming in Winter 2013
Debbie Viguié is the New York Times Bestselling author of two dozen novels including the Wicked series, the Crusade series and the Wolf Springs Chronicles series co-authored with Nancy Holder. Debbie also writes thrillers including The Psalm 23 Mysteries, the Kiss trilogy, and the Witch Hunt trilogy. When Debbie isn’t busy writing she enjoys spending time with her husband, Scott, visiting theme parks. They live in Florida with their cat, Schrödinger.
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