Beyond Tuesday Morning (17 page)

“I'm armed, but I don't want to hurt you, see?” He kept smiling, but his fingers jabbed into her shoulder.

She winced and tried to jerk free, but the guy's friends stood and came over. One of them took the seat on her other side.

“Hey there, baby doll.” This one had dark hair. His eyes were bloodshot, and Jamie's fear increased.
God, help me … they've got to be on something
. His sweatshirt said OSU Football.

“Leave me alone.” She hissed the words at the newest member of the group. “Go back to your seats or I'll scream.”

“Do it, witch, and I'll shoot you straight through the heart.” The freckle-faced kid laughed, and the rough sound made Jamie's skin crawl. “We killed two people earlier this morning. We'll kill you if you don't do what we say.”

Jamie doubted he was telling the truth, but just then she felt something jab into her ribs.

“We're serious, lady.” It was the third guy, the one with the baseball cap. “You're ours for the day, whatever we want to do with you. Got it?”

“Yeah, and don't make a scene, or we'll shoot everyone on board.”

“God …” Jamie closed her eyes and tried to be still. It wasn't possible. Her mind was racing too fast to make a plan. “Get me out of here, God.”

The crew cut laughed hard at that. “Oh yeah, God'll show up here. Sure thing.”

His buddies joined in the laughter, and Jamie looked around the first level. Couldn't someone see she was in trouble? Or was the laughter from the three men convincing the other passengers that she was part of their group, a bunch of friends having a great time together?

“Wait till you see what we've got planned for you, baby.” The football sweatshirt sneered the words up against her ear.

His breath smelled like marijuana, and she jerked away, repulsed.
God … help me out of this
. Her heart raced so fast she couldn't catch her breath. The most logical way out was to scream or make a run for it. But what about the gun?

It was one thing to take her chances on her own. So what if they shot her? Seconds later she'd be in heaven with Jesus, being welcomed home by the husband she missed so badly. But she didn't have only herself to think about.

She had Sierra.

And because of that, she couldn't scream, couldn't make a run for it. Instead she had to think. The only passengers in sight were the two men across the way. If only they'd look at her, she could send some sort of signal with her eyes. Her captors wouldn't notice—two of them were slurring their words; none of them were paying her that much attention now that they had her trapped.

Come on, God. Make one of them look at me. Please …

At that moment, the blond man stood and headed toward them. He looked back at his black friend and pointed to the restrooms. This was it, the chance Jamie needed. He had to walk right past her! If only he'd look at her. He was tall with a square chin, and he looked strong enough to handle all three of the punks circled around her.

Jamie stared at him, blinking as hard as she could, willing him to look.

“So whatcha going to do to her when it's your turn?” The crew cut rattled off a string of expletives. He was so loud, he didn't see the blond man coming up along the aisle to his left. “My turn might not leave much. I better go last.”

Suddenly the blond man stopped, pulled out a gun, and pointed it at the four of them. “Police, everyone freeze!”

Jamie couldn't believe her eyes. She had to be dreaming, but she wasn't. A second later the black man pulled out another gun and jogged over.

“You punks better get your hands up!” He glared at them. “Which one of you has the gun?”

All three of the young guys instantly put their hands in the air. “Hey, man,” the crew cut kid forced a laugh. “We're just havin' a little fun. Come on, nothin' to get riled over.”

“Sure.” The blond officer pointed the gun straight at the guy and looked at Jamie. “Do you know these men?”

“No!”
The word was more a cry than an answer. Jamie jerked away and hurried up next to the blond officer. She pointed at the dark-haired kid. “Be careful! He's got a gun!”

“We saw it.” Her protector took her hand with his free one and guided her behind him. “Stay there; I'll cover you.”

With the blond still aiming his gun at the young men, the black officer moved in and grabbed the gunman. “Give me your weapon. Now!”

“Hey—” He managed a nervous chuckle, his hands still in the air. “It's like my man Jason said, we're just havin' a little—”

“Give me the gun!” The officer's voice left no room for negotiation.

Jamie could barely see the drama unfolding. Was it really happening? Had three guys tried to abduct her in broad daylight? And who were the police officers? Angels?

Her heart was still racing, but she felt safe behind the blond man. He was much bigger than she, and with his body covering hers, she knew she was safe.
Calm, Jamie … be calm. God's with you; it's okay.
She pictured Sierra and felt tears sting her eyes. If things had been different …

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut until the bad thoughts went away. She opened them and stared at the officer a few feet away. The situation was under control; the kid was going to give up his gun. God had given her a miracle, one that was still playing out in front of her.

“I said, give me the gun!” The black officer was angry now. His voice told all of them he was sick of the charade.

“Whatever.” It was the dark-haired kid. He snarled at his friends. “Look, I'm not going down for this.” He lowered one of his hands to his pocket.

“Slow!” The blond barked. He still held Jamie's hand.

“Okay, man, okay.” The kid pulled the gun from his pocket and reached it out, slowly. His hand shook. “Take it, already.”

“Shut up!” The blond officer barked at him and turned to the others. “Any other weapons before we search you?”

A round of muted “No, sirs” came from the trio. All three of them had their hands in the air; none of them were laughing.

“Hold the cover.” The black officer glanced at his partner. Then he slipped his own gun back in his pocket, spun the dark-haired kid around and slammed him against the ferry wall. With rough, sharp movements he ran his hands along the kid's sides. “You have the right to remain silent.” He jerked his hands up and down the guy's chest. “Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law …”

Jamie's hands and knees were shaking now, probably from the adrenaline. What were the odds that the only two other people on this level of the ferry were police officers?
Thank You, God … thank You
. Her heart rate was barely slower, though.

The blond officer leaned his head back, keeping his eyes on the other two kids. “Did they threaten you?”

“Yes.” Jamie tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. “They … they said they'd kill me if I screamed. They were going to rape me.”

The officer turned to his partner. “Did you hear that?”

“Loud and clear.” He finished frisking the kid and shoved him onto the bench. “Keep your hands in the air.”

He repeated the process with the other two, and found no weapons on either of them. Even so he took his gun out and kept it aimed at the trio. With a glance over his shoulder, he grinned at his partner. “Go tell the captain we've made us some friends down here.”

The blond officer laughed. He was still holding her hand, and now he motioned for her to follow him. They were halfway up the steps when he looked back at her. “I'm Officer Clay—”

The horn on the ferry blared, and Jamie strained to hear him.

“… from Los Angeles.”

“Clay Miles?” The wind was whipping on the upper deck and she had to shout to be heard.

“Yes,” he stopped at the top of the stairs and faced her. Even then it was hard to hear. “What's your name?”

“Jamie Bryan.” She was safe now, and the fact that he still had her hand in his felt … actually, Jamie couldn't figure what she felt. The man was tall, obviously strong, and rugged looking. All that and he'd just saved her life. “I don't know what to say.”

Officer Miles let go of her hand and pointed to the captain's office. “Let's talk in there.”

She nodded and followed him into the glassed-in area at the top of the ferry. He explained that he was a Los Angeles police officer and then told the man what had happened. They were almost at the Manhattan shoreline, but the captain called dispatch and found out the guys were wanted. They'd held up a convenience store at gunpoint before boarding the ferry. Police lost track of them and were about to contact the captain—in case they were aboard.

The captain held out his hand to Officer Miles. “Nice work.” He shook his head. “You're on vacation from LA, is that it?”

“No. We're here for detective training in Manhattan. NYPD.” He leaned against the glass wall and looked at Jamie. “We saw the suspects approach this woman, and my partner saw the gun.”

Jamie wanted to run over and hug him. Instead she steadied her knees and gripped the back of the captain's chair. “They …” She looked straight into the officer's eyes. “You saved my life.”

He grinned and shrugged one shoulder. “I guess the training started sooner than we expected.”

The captain was on the phone, making arrangements to have an NYPD officer at the docks when the boat pulled up. He was saying something about stalling until the unit was on location.

“So, Jamie Bryan—” Officer Miles gazed out at the choppy water—“why're you going into Manhattan by yourself on a day like this?”

“I'm a volunteer. At St. Paul's.” She met his eyes again. What was it about him? She'd never seen him before. At least, she didn't think she had. But something in his eyes made her feel as if she'd known him all her life.

The officer raised his eyebrows. “St. Paul's? You won't believe this. That's exactly where we were headed.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” He angled his head and studied her. His eyes were beyond kind, the perfect compliment to the tough guy she'd seen a few minutes earlier. “We have the morning off. Orientation's this afternoon.”

Jamie smiled. “I think you just had it.”

“True.” He laughed, much more relaxed than he'd been with the bad guys downstairs. A sober look filled his eyes. “The chapel, it's across the street from the pit, right?”

“Right.” Their conversation was easy, and Jamie realized she was drawn to him. “You aren't an angel, are you?”

“I'm afraid not.” He grinned. “Just a regular guy, warts and all.”

Jamie didn't see any warts. “I prayed for help, and a minute later you had your gun out.”

“Hmmm.” He kept his gaze on hers, unblinking. “I prayed God would use me in New York however He saw fit.”

The captain was still on the phone, but he'd put the ferry back into gear. They weren't far from the dock now, and Jamie saw three squad cars, lights flashing. She shuddered; how different things might have been if the officers hadn't been there.

“So … you believe in prayer, is that right, Officer—”

“Call me Clay.” He slipped his hands in his jeans pockets. His leather jacket looked sharp against his beige oxford. “And yes. To tell you the truth, God's just about everything to me.”

Her voice dropped a notch. “Me too.”

“Is that why you volunteer at St. Paul's?”

“Sort of.” It didn't seem right to talk about Jake. She would probably never see the guy after today. Why trouble him with her personal heartache? “How 'bout you?”

“My partner's got some stuff going on. It's a long story.”

A gentle bump told them the ferry had reached the dock. The captain picked up his radio and made an announcement to the passengers: “We are requesting all passengers stay seated; I repeat, all passengers please stay seated. A police matter has arisen and officers will need a few minutes to take care of the situation. Again, please stay seated.”

During the captain's announcement, Jamie thought she saw Clay glance at her left hand. But it happened so fast, she wasn't sure. What with the scene downstairs—and the inexplicable connection she felt to a total stranger—she had no doubt her imagination was working overtime.

The captain thanked Clay again and bid them good-bye. “I need to be downstairs when they take the suspects.”

“Fine, sir. Glad we could help.”

The captain left and they were alone.

“Do you need to go?” She looked again at the police officers scrambling out of their cars and heading for the ferry ramp.

“Nope. This isn't our jurisdiction. We can stop a crime in progress, but after that it belongs to the locals.”

“I see.” Jamie should've thanked Clay for saving her life and proceeded to make small talk. But the feeling that she'd known him—known him well—wouldn't go away. She studied her hands. “I'm still shaking.”

He closed the distance between them and, as naturally as if they'd been friends all their lives, pulled her into a hug. “I didn't want to say anything.” He drew back and smiled at her. “You were flushed at first, but now … you're white as a ghost.”