Restoreth My Soul (Psalm 23 Mysteries) (12 page)

He watched her walk out of the room and then he fell asleep again.

Cindy lay back down on the couch, her heart pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst. Jeremiah had been incoherent. He was clearly trying to talk to her, but she’d made out very little of it. It had been hard to concentrate with her hand on his chest. She had felt all the scar tissue there and she had felt so much pain and grief for what he must have been through. The only thing that had been really clear was that he seemed to have gotten one of the knife wounds while training in hand-to-hand combat.

He had been struggling so hard to tell her something, but whether it was about his time in the army or not she didn’t know. She would have listened all night, but he was in pain and he needed rest more than anything.

And when he was ready to tell her whatever he had felt so burdened to tell her he would. Until then she’d just have to be patient and not push too much. It was clear that his life had been painful and that was something she could understand. She had never even told him the full story about what happened to her sister.

She took a ragged breath. All she knew was that she cared for him deeply. Maybe too deeply. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to go to sleep.

Jeremiah woke in the morning to the smell of something cooking. He sat up slowly, feeling a little woozy still, but on the whole much better than he had been. He stood and made his way to the bathroom then a minute later walked into the kitchen.

Cindy was standing over the oven, making what looked like omelets. Captain was laying at her feet, clearly hoping for a handout. The overhead lights were reflecting off Cindy’s hair and he froze as the events of the middle of the night came back to him.

Fear flooded through him. The things he had said. And now he’d have to face the consequences of it. He wasn’t ready for this. She had rejected him last night, rejected what he had to say. Hadn’t she? That’s the way it had seemed.

Yet here she was, making breakfast in his kitchen. Everything was such a blur, he couldn’t know for sure what he had actually said.

“It smells good,” he forced himself to say.

She looked up with a smile. “Thanks. You look better.”

“I feel better,” he admitted, moving to lean against one of the counters.

“Different clothes,” he noticed suddenly. She wasn’t wearing what she had been the night before.

“Geanie dropped these off for me a while ago along with the food,” she said.

“Remind me to thank her.”

“This is just about ready if you want to sit,” she said.

He nodded and headed to his dining table. He had been sitting less than a minute when she brought in two plates. She set them down and returned a moment later with utensils and two glasses of orange juice.

“Wow, what a feast,” he said, suddenly very aware that he was only half-dressed.

“Breakfast of champions,” she said brightly.

He started to eat. He was pretty sure it tasted good, but his mind was preoccupied with other things.

“Thanks for staying last night,” he said. “I know that had to be a...burden.”

“No, it was fine,” she said, smiling again.

She was doing a lot of that. Was it genuine or was it for his benefit?

They finished their breakfast in silence and then he went to get changed while she cleaned up. He glanced at his clock and moved as quickly as he could. He needed to get to the synagogue and get the day started.

He managed to take care of everything except the buttons on his shirt. He finally gave up in frustration and walked back into the kitchen where Cindy was just finishing up.

She turned. “You managed pretty well for a guy who was shot last night.”

“You know us rabbis, take a licking, keep on ticking,” he said. “I figure I’ve seen worse.”

She didn’t say anything. She wasn’t giving him any indication of exactly what had happened last night from her perspective. He didn’t want to come right out and ask her, though, in case his memories were accurate and she had rejected wanting to know more about his past.

“Here, do you need some help?” she asked after drying her hands on a dish towel.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

She walked over and grabbed the edges of his shirt. He could feel her fingers brush his chest and the sensory input reminded him so strongly of the night before that it was all he could do to stand still and say nothing.

“This is harder to do for someone else than you’d think,” she laughed after fumbling with the first button and finally getting it through the hole.

“I can imagine,” he said.

Her touch was like torture. He found himself wanting to burst out his confession then and there. But not for nothing had he gone so long undetected.

Finally he had to say something. It was becoming unnatural. “I’m sorry you had to see my scars,” he said.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry you have them. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through in the army. It must have hurt so much when your training partner stabbed you.”

He caught her hands in his and she looked up and met his eyes.

His heart was pounding. “I said that last night?” he asked.

She nodded. “You said a lot of things.”

“Like what?” he whispered.

Her brow furrowed. “I honestly don’t know. You were raving quite a lot. I think you might have been hallucinating. It was clear you had something important you wanted to tell me, but of everything you said, most of it was babble. That was the only thing I could actually make out. The scar over your ribs was from when you were learning hand-to-hand combat.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, tightening his grip and continuing to stare into her eyes.

“No, it’s fine. Whatever you want to tell me. Whenever you want to tell me. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

She was telling the truth. He forced himself to keep his face from reflecting his relief. He had not debased himself in her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, and dropped her hands.

“You’re welcome,” she responded as she continued to button his shirt.

Ten minutes later they were in Cindy’s car heading to work. He stared out the window, lost in thought. She seemed content to be silent as well. Finally they pulled up outside her church.

He slowly got out of the car and she did the same.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said. It sounded so lame, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk in with you?” she asked.

“No, I don’t need to give Marie more reason to fuss. I’m hoping I can even avoid her finding out I got shot last night,” Jeremiah said.

“Is that why you’re not wearing the sling?” she asked.

“You’ve got it. A little physical pain is far easier to deal with than one of her tirades. Especially today.”

Cindy shook her head, but didn’t say anything.

“Thank you, again.”

“I’m next door if you need anything,” she said.

“I’ll do my best to leave you in peace today. Besides, I’m going to be so preoccupied with synagogue business that I seriously doubt anything else will be coming up to distract me,” he said.

At least, he certainly hoped so. He couldn’t help but remember the touch of her fingers on his chest as she’d buttoned his shirt. He didn’t want to think about it. That led to thinking about how he almost kissed her before. And that was something he was most certainly not thinking of. At least, not until he and G-d could have a good long discussion about this past year and the next one.

He smiled, glad that she couldn’t read his thoughts. She’d probably be horrified if she could.

He watched as she walked onto the church campus. Then he turned and headed to the synagogue.

His office was the last place Jeremiah wanted to be, but he needed to go in. It was only a few hours until the start of Rosh Hashanah and he had too much to do to waste time. When he walked in the door Marie looked like she was preparing to give him the lecture of his life. Something in his expression must have given her pause, though, since she held her tongue. It was an act of mercy that he appreciated, especially since he was in no mood to try and curb his response.

He grimaced in greeting, walked over to his office, unlocked it and stepped inside closing the door behind him. His eyes fell on the package that had come several days ago that he had completely forgotten about until that moment.

A terrible suspicion flooded him as he stared at the brown wrapped package.

“It couldn’t be,” he whispered.

He sat down on the couch and pulled the package close. It did feel like some sort of painting. He balanced it with his left hand, biting his lip against the fire that burned through his arm at the movement and tore off the paper with his right.

He saw the back of the painting first, already prepped and ready for mounting. There was a string of letters and numbers on the back written in black ink and below it another set of numbers written in blue ink. He spun it around slowly and as he saw what it was his heart stuttered.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Mark was sitting at his desk wondering how he was even managing to be conscious given how little sleep he’d gotten. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a swig.

“Mark!”

He jerked and splashed coffee all over his jacket. He winced and grabbed a couple of sticky notes and tried to sop some of it up as he looked up to see who had called him.

Liam was weaving his way toward him waving the camera in his hand. He had a huge grin on his face and, worse, he looked fully rested. Mark couldn’t help but hate him at that moment.

Liam set the camera down on the desk. “I finished up last night.”

“That must have taken forever,” Mark muttered as he stood up and swiped some tissues off a neighboring desk. He blotted his jacket some more and then gave up and took it off. He hung it on the back of his chair with a sigh. He’d just gotten that one back from the cleaners, too.

“It wasn’t too bad as long as I didn’t have to be on the ladder,” Liam said.

“Good. I’ll make sure it gets to the rabbi today.”

“Don’t forget that Rosh Hashanah starts at sundown tonight. Once that happens you won’t get anything out of him for at least a couple of days. Maybe longer.”

“Thanks for the warning, reminder, whatever it was,” Mark said, as he rubbed his eyes.

“What’s on your docket for today?” Liam asked eagerly.

“Mostly today is going to be sitting on top of lab guys trying to get test results, answers, something I can actually work with. Fingerprints, DNA, someone to tell me whether or not that piece of the Amber Room we found in the house is authentic or just some kook’s idea of a joke. You?”

Liam’s face fell slightly. “Patrol.”

“Sorry, I forgot for a second,” Mark said.

That seemed to cheer Liam back up.

Once he’d gone Mark stared at the piece of paper in front of him, trying to decide what to tackle first. It was going to be a boring day, but that was good. He’d had about as much excitement as he could handle.

Jeremiah yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and called Mark.

“What is it?” the detective asked without preamble. He sounded half asleep and none too thrilled to be disturbed.

“I’ve got something at my office you’re going to want to see,” Jeremiah said and then hung up. Next he dialed Cindy.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, sounding mildly alarmed. “Is everything okay?”

“Okay, but I have something at my office you’re going to have to see to believe,” he said.

She paused. “The last time you said something like that you’d torn up the floor and found, you know, what you found,” she said, lowering her voice.

He took it that there was someone nearby that she didn’t want overhearing.

“Well I have something else pretty amazing,” he said.

“Is it, you know, another piece of the same thing?” she asked, sounding perplexed.

“No, it’s not another piece of the Amber Room, but you’re on the right track. Just, come and take a look.”

“Hold on a sec.”

She put the phone down and he could hear her moving around then silence. About a minute later she picked the phone back up. “I need ten minutes and then I’ll be right over,” she said.

She hung up and Jeremiah stood and began pacing the room. He stopped and checked the back of the painting again, paying particular attention to the letters and numbers in black ink. KF114. He got his phone back out and took a couple of pictures of the back then took a couple of pictures of the painting itself.

Next he went over to his computer and did a quick search, just to make sure he was right about what it was he was staring at. In thirty seconds he knew that he was.

His arm was beginning to really throb so he took some Tylenol. He wasn’t about to risk another round with whatever the doctor had prescribed that had knocked him out so hard the night before.

This would explain everything that had been going on, or rather, a good deal of it. He could barely contain himself anymore and he yanked open his office door, startling Marie who looked up at him like he had gone mad.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I just think I figured something out about the case I’m helping the detective with,” Jeremiah said. There was no need to put her in danger by bringing her into the loop. The less she knew at this point, the safer she was.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re white as a sheet,” she clucked.

“I’m just tired,” he said.

“You better get some sleep before you have to do any of the liturgy,” she said.

“Yes, that would be a brilliant idea,” he said.

“Now I know there’s something wrong,” he heard Marie mutter.

Sylvia graciously allowed Cindy to lock up the office and put a “back in fifteen minutes” sign on the front door. With Geanie gone, it was harder to do anything because it was just her working in the main office and she couldn’t leave it unlocked. It was hard just to grab a soda when she wanted one.

She was going to have to find a way to get Geanie to agree to come back to work. She’d only been gone a couple of days and already some of the other staff and ministry leaders were freaking out. And she was going to personally freak out if they expected her to take over Geanie’s responsibilities while they found a replacement.

She was feeling worse every minute she was there. She wasn’t sure if it was just anxiety or if everything was catching up to her. Geanie was right, she should have called in sick.

As she headed over to the synagogue she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Jeremiah had found. If it wasn’t another piece of the Amber Room, maybe it was another painting. But that didn’t make any sense either. What would something like that be doing in his office?

He must have looked something up online and found new information. That made a lot more sense. She had just made it to the synagogue parking lot when a familiar car pulled up.

“Hey, Mark,” she called as he got out of the car.

“He called you, too?”

“Yeah. Must be important if he’s hauling us both over here. I just can’t figure out what it could be. I dropped him off at work like twenty minutes ago.”

“I don’t know, but it better be good. I feel like the walking dead.”

“You look somewhat like a zombie,” she said.

“Nice. Thanks for the affirmation.”

They walked into the office and Marie looked up from her desk. Cindy felt like the woman was glaring daggers at her. She forced herself to smile in return.

“He’s been expecting you,” Marie said to Mark.

The detective nodded and together they entered Jeremiah’s office. Mark closed the door behind them.

“You made it,” Jeremiah said, looking more excited than Cindy had ever seen him.

“Yup, and I brought a little present for you,” Mark said, putting a video camera he’d been holding down on Jeremiah’s desk. “I had Liam videotape the rest of the writing on those walls so that when you have a few moments you can continue with the translation work. Hopefully it will be easier on everyone this way.”

Jeremiah barely even glanced at the video camera before scooping it up and putting it next to his computer monitor. He turned back to them.

“Okay, so we’re both here, what is it?” Mark asked.

Cindy noticed that there was a painting leaning against the couch. She could only see the back of it where some letters and numbers had been written in ink.

Jeremiah turned it around and she stared at it.

It looked like a classical piece, like some she had seen in a museum somewhere. In the center of the piece was a naked woman standing next to a seated man with a long beard who was looking at her. Beneath the woman’s feet it looked like two human figures were being swallowed by the ground or the water, she struggled to make it all out. To the left of the man a lion and a tiger were snapping at each other. Behind them was what looked like a man carrying something and to the far edge a rhinoceros. To the right of the woman was something that she at first took to be a gorilla but on closer inspection seemed to resemble a hippopotamus more.

“Okay, not something I’d necessarily care to see hanging in a rabbi’s office, or in any church office for that matter,” Mark said.

“Half the churches in Italy seem to be covered with nude paintings. It was the style,” Cindy said. “Not that I see it being hung in a church here, either.”

Jeremiah looked both excited and impatient at the same time.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

Both Cindy and Mark shook their heads.

“Well, I can tell it’s a painting, but beyond that...okay, I’ll bite. What is it?” Mark asked.