Walk Through the Valley

by Debbie Viguié

  Walk Through the Valley

  Other Books by Debbie Viguié

  The Psalm 23 Mysteries

  The Lord is My Shepherd

  I Shall Not Want

  Lie Down in Green Pastures

  Beside Still Waters

  Restoreth My Soul

  In the Paths of Righteousness

  For His Name’s Sake

  The Kiss Trilogy

  Kiss of Night

  Kiss of Death

  Kiss of Revenge

  Sweet Seasons

  The Summer of Cotton Candy

  The Fall of Candy Corn

  The Winter of Candy Canes

  The Spring of Candy Apples

  Witch Hunt

  The Thirteenth Sacrifice

  The Last Grave

  Circle of Blood

  Walk Through the Valley

  Psalm 23 Mysteries

  By Debbie Viguié

  Published byBig Pink Bow

  Walk Through the Valley

  Copyright © 2014 by Debbie Viguié

  Published by Big Pink Bow

  www.bigpinkbow.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Dedicated to the fans who have loved and supported this series. Thank you all.

  Thank you to everyone who helped make this book a reality, particularly Barbara Reynolds, Rick Reynolds and Calliope Collacott.

  1

  Church secretary Cindy Preston couldn’t help but reflect that the most life-altering things in her existence happened on Sundays. It was Sunday now and as she stared into rabbi Jeremiah Silverman’s eyes she knew that this Sunday was going to shake her more deeply than anything else since the death of her sister so many years ago.

  They had known each other for almost two years now, and she had long suspected that he was keeping something about his past secret from her. The truth was, it was all of his past. She knew virtually nothing about his life before the day they had met over a dead body except for the fact that he had grown up in Israel. They were from two completely different worlds but every murder had brought them closer together.

  And now he was looking at her with eyes that burned with an intensity that took her breath away. He had just told her that his name wasn’t even Jeremiah Silverman.

  She could tell he was waiting, expecting her to say something, but she in turn was waiting for him to say something more. Like why the Israeli equivalent of the CIA had given him a false name. So they stood, locked in a silence that seemed to go on forever. One of them was going to have to break it, and she realized it wasn’t going to be him.

  “The Mossad gave you the name Jeremiah Silverman?”

  He nodded.

  “And you can’t tell me your real name?”

  “That is also correct,” he said, clearing his throat a little. His accent, which was usually very faint, had grown incredibly thick over the course of the brief conversation. It made him sound so alien to her, like someone she didn’t know.

  But I don’t know him, she reminded herself.

  “Why? Are they protecting you? Did you witness a crime or something like that?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not in some kind of witness relocation program.”

  “Then what is it? Are you...are you a spy?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat.

  He hesitated and then said very softly, “Not anymore.”

  She turned abruptly and sat down at the table, feeling weak in the knees. She’d known he was hiding something dark about his past. The first killer they had ever faced down together Jeremiah had shot. He had drawn a gun in the blink of an eye and only Cindy had seen it happen.

  “So, you were a spy?”

  He pulled out a chair and sat down gingerly, as though afraid if he got too close to her she would bolt like a skittish animal. “Intelligence gathering is just a small part of the job and it doesn’t...” he stopped and looked closely at her. He sighed. “Yes, I was a spy.”

  Deep down she realized a tiny part of her was relieved. She had often wondered with his secretiveness and his peculiar skills if he had been a criminal of some sort. “Tell me everything.”

  He looked away. “I can’t tell you everything. I shouldn’t even have told you that much. I’m bound by an oath of secrecy and I can’t break that.”

  “But you already have,” she pointed out.

  “You had to know that some of the attacks on Geanie were actually trying to target you and because of me.”

  “You said someone was trying to hurt me because they thought we were a couple,” she said, feeling herself blush as she said the last word.

  He nodded.

  “Are they going to keep trying to kill me?”

  He hesitated and her mind went into overdrive. What was it he didn’t want to tell her? Was she in mortal danger even now? Or had he somehow already killed the man who had been trying to kill her? This all felt so insane.

  “I do not know if you are still in danger, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  “You’ve been thinking about leaving,” she burst out, not knowing where the sudden flash of insight came from.

  “I have been thinking about it for quite a while,” he admitted, looking intensely uncomfortable. “I kept telling myself that our friendship was becoming too close, that it was dangerous for both of us because of my past. I’ve been trying to make up my mind to leave for almost a year.”

  “What’s stopped you?” she asked, fear rushing through her.

  “You. Every time I made up my mind to leave, the thought of not seeing you again...it tore me apart.”

  “And now?” she pressed.

  “It would be safer for you if I did go. Those who have found me here are ruthless people, and I can’t risk that more will come.”

  More will come. She marked his words and instinctively knew that meant that he had already killed the man who had been targeting her. She shuddered, but didn’t feel the revulsion she expected to. Then again, why would she? It wasn’t like he hadn’t killed to protect her before.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stand that.”

  “All I’ve brought into your life is danger and pain.”

  She shook her head fiercely. “That’s not true. You’ve brought friendship and joy. You’ve helped me conquer my fears and live a fuller life. I have real friends, close friends, for the first time in my life and that’s all because of you. Everything we’ve been through together, I wouldn’t trade that for all the safety in the world.”

  And she realized that she meant that. Once upon a time being safe was the only thing that had ever mattered to her. Jeremiah had slowly changed that, helped her be more daring, bold. Maybe that was because when she was with him she actually felt safe in a way that she hadn’t felt since her sister’s death. She trusted him to make sure she was alright. She couldn’t go back to the way things used to be.

  She wouldn’t.

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s selfish and true.”

  “Dear, sweet Cindy, you are many things and selfish certainly isn’t one of them,” he said with a sad smile.

  She was losing him. She could feel it. It was as though she could a
lready see him packing up his things, slipping off into the night without a word, or a forwarding address.

  He’d probably even have a new name so she could never find him again.

  Panic seized her and she reached out and grabbed his hand. She realized hers was beginning to shake uncontrollably. “Don’t you dare leave,” she half-pleaded, half-demanded.

  “But it would be for your-”

  “If you say for my own good or my protection, I swear, I will hit you in the head with a frying pan until I knock some sense into you.” She could hear the desperation in her own voice, could hear it cracking, and knew she was on the verge of tears.

  “I thought women were supposed to hit men with rolling pins,” he said.

  “Yeah, well I have no idea if you own a rolling pin, but I know exactly where the frying pan is,” she said.

  She felt like she was losing it, talking nonsense. It was as though if she stopped talking, stopped trying, he’d already be gone.

  “You can’t go. It wouldn’t be for my good or my protection. At least be honest about that. If you leave, it’s because you want to, because you’re the one only thinking of himself.”

  She saw the muscles in his arms tense and knew she had struck a nerve. He started to pull his hand away and she lunged forward and grabbed his face, holding it between both her hands. She stared into his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare leave, Jeremiah, whatever your name is. If you disappear on me I will never, ever forgive you.”

  She was crying now. Her throat seared with pain and salty tears flowed down her cheeks and onto her lips. She was shaking even harder than she had been moments before. It felt like her entire world hinged on whatever he was going to say next.

  “Why do you care so much?” he asked.

  She stared at him, wondering how he could ask such a question. “You’re an idiot,” she finally said. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she felt dizzy.

  “Maybe I am, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Because...because I...I care about you. You’re my best friend.” It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but it was still the truth.

  He took her hands and pulled them gently down away from his face. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite make out. He stood abruptly. “Be that as it may you would be safer without me around.”

  She felt as though he had just slapped her. “Coward!” she hissed, staring up at him in fear and anger.

  He blinked as his face contorted slightly. “What did you call me?”

  “I called you a coward. Just because life is getting complicated you’re going to cut and run.”

  “No one has ever dared call me that,” he said, his face flushing angrily.

  “Get used to it. If your answer to difficulties is to just leave them behind.” She was hurt and she was lashing out. It was wrong, all wrong. This wasn’t what she wanted to be saying to him, but she couldn’t stop herself. The words just poured out of her, fueled by her own anguish. She took a deep breath and flung one final accusation. “Maybe that’s why they kicked you out of the Mossad.”

  And in a flash she realized that had been the exact wrong thing to say. His face contorted into a look of fury more frightening than anything she had ever seen. She had learned to face down murderers and serial killers, but nothing could have prepared her for the terror she suddenly felt. He leaned down so that his face was mere inches from hers.

  “Running away from difficulties was never my problem,” he snarled. “My problem was in knowing when to leave something alone. As you can see, I still have that problem since I am here instead of gone like I should have been. Not knowing when to walk away is my weakness. It’s time I got over that.”

  He turned and strode to the front door. He yanked it open and then slammed it shut behind him.

  Cindy slumped down, her cheek hitting the surface of the table as sobs wracked her body. How had that gone so wrong? A moment later she felt something pressing against her leg and realized it was Captain, Jeremiah’s German Shepherd. The dog was whining deep in his throat and he laid his head down on her knee. She dropped her hand to pet his head.

  “I’m sorry, boy,” she whispered to him.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, waiting, wondering when or even if Jeremiah was coming back. She felt like she was going to be sick as waves of grief continued to wash over her.

  Finally she dragged herself to her feet. Captain jumped toward the door and she took him outside for a minute before coming back in.

  She needed to talk to Jeremiah. They couldn’t leave things the way they had. His car was still in the driveway so wherever he had gone, he had walked. He lived close enough to the synagogue that he could have gone there. Personally she wouldn’t mind heading over to the church and spending some quiet time in the sanctuary praying. God was the only one she really cared to talk to at that moment. Besides, Geanie and Joseph were off on their honeymoon and Mark and Traci were leaving for their well-earned vacation in Tahiti. God was the only one left she could confide in.

  She got in her car and soon found herself in a long line of cars waiting to turn onto the street where the church and the synagogue were located. There seemed to be a massive traffic jam which was more than a little unusual. After spending five minutes inching forward she turned on the radio, wondering if there would be a traffic report that would let her know what was going on.

  After a few seconds the song that was playing ended and an announcer came on air. “The top story this afternoon has been gubernatorial candidate Henry White’s visit to Pine Springs, the latest stop on his famous walking tour of the entire state of California. Hundreds of supporters flocked to First Shepherd church where White held an impromptu rally this afternoon.”

  Cindy groaned to herself. That explained the traffic. All the craziness was happening at her church. It sounded like a last minute set-up which was why she hadn’t heard about it. She had spent the last week under police protection leading up to Geanie and Joseph’s wedding and hadn’t had a chance to hear anything that was going on. She wondered what kind of logistical nightmare the event had been for everyone else.

  Henry White was campaigning early and hard and he had made a big deal about getting to know the people of the entire state, not just the handful of major cities. To that end he had started weeks ago at the northern tip of the state and he was literally walking down it and would be ending it eventually in San Diego. As publicity stunts went it seemed to be working. He was the only candidate whose name she even recognized.

  Cindy sighed. She hated politics and every inch of her was screaming to keep clear of the entire mess. However, she still wanted to speak with Jeremiah and she still thought the synagogue was the best place to look for him. The flow of cars on the main road seemed to gradually thin out until finally everyone who had been waiting in line with her was able to turn. She hit open road with a feeling of relief and pressed down on the accelerator a little harder than she should.

  When she finally turned into the church parking lot there were only half a dozen cars still there. She glanced in her rearview mirror as she parked the car and cringed as she saw her own reflection. She usually wasn’t vain about her appearance, but even she drew the line at showing her face in public when it was blatantly obvious that she had been crying.

  She sat for a moment, debating what to do. There were a couple of cars in the parking lot next door by the synagogue. If Jeremiah was there she didn’t want to risk running into any of his staff or congregation looking like this. His secretary already didn’t like Cindy.

  The church had bathrooms close to the entrance gate which was still open. She could duck in there for a minute and at least wash her face so she looked a bit more presentable. Hopefully no one she knew would see her.

  She took one last quick look around before exiting her car and making a beeline for the gates. Just inside she turned to the right and grabbed hold of the door to the women’s restroom. Sh
e yanked it open, stepped inside, and froze in her tracks.

  A woman was sprawled on the bathroom floor, eyes frozen wide in terror. Blood had trickled out of the corner of her mouth. A great deal more of it was pooled on the floor underneath her.

  Crouched above her was a man in a dark suit. There was blood on his hands. He jerked his head up as Cindy gasped. She took a hasty step backward and shouted for help even as she realized that the man who was staring up at her was Henry White.

  2

  Jeremiah was in a foul mood and he realized that coming to the synagogue might have been a tactical mistake. There had been some kind of event going on next door at the church and some of the cars had spilled over into the synagogue’s parking lot. Other than that, though, there didn’t seem to be anyone at the synagogue itself. That was a good thing, because he realized he was likely to tear the head off the first person he came across whether they deserved it or not.

  How had everything gone so wrong? He had anticipated a number of different reactions from Cindy, played scenarios endlessly in his head for hours before she got to his house. He hadn’t planned for what had actually happened and he was still reeling from the fight. His carefully ordered world was in complete chaos.

  Like it or not, Cindy had gotten under his skin, pierced his armor. That was the only reason he had lost his temper. He had been hurt and angry and more than a little frightened of what he was feeling. A sworn enemy could have taunted and tortured him for hours and never caused him to lose control as he did from just a few choice words from her.

  The sound of scores of car engines starting up pierced the darkness of his thoughts. Whatever was happening next door it must be breaking up. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead into his hands. He tried to pray or think and didn’t have much luck with either. At last everything seemed to quiet down outside. Quiet was good. He needed some quiet to think, regain his equilibrium.