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Authors: Connie Almony

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BOOK: Flee From Evil
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The heat must have gotten to her, because now she felt over-tired. The bright sun had been making her squint, giving her a headache. Maybe, finally having the moment to relax, her body was taking advantage of it.

Sky eyed her. “You okay, Soph?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, hardly able to keep her head up leaning against the trunk of a tree.

His brow crunched together. “Let me get you something to eat.” He stood. “Be right back.”

She waved him away and closed her eyes, feeling as though she floated with the birds in the breeze that wafted through her hair. Then somehow the airy feeling of drifting in the winds turned dark and heavy.

Too heavy to move.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Vince climbed onto the tank bench, ready to face the onslaught that threatened to take him down. Prepared for the attack, he wore his bathing suit, an old T-shirt, a snorkel mask, and flippers. The large group that gathered roared at the costume. Vince smiled and bowed. He knew how to gin up a crowd.

Ayo stepped up first, likely feeling his oats having bested Vince at hoops earlier. So, basketball wasn’t Vince’s game. Did the youth pastor need to bring him down another notch?

Ayo pitched the ball. It flew past the target.

“Whoa. Gettin’ a little tired there ole man?” Vince always knew how to goad the kid who barely looked old enough for his new bride.

Ayo squinted, tossing the ball in one hand, bouncing it off his bicep, and catching it.

“Well, aren’t you talented?”

Ayo wound up and missed again.

John lobbed him another ball. “One more makes three.”

Ayo pitched just as someone yelled in the distance. It flew off course and that was the end of that.

Vince lifted the snorkel mask. “D’you forget your glasses.”

Ayo grabbed another ball from John.

“Hey,” Vince called. “You’re only allowed three.”

Ayo pounded it into the palm of Vince’s best friend. Billy’s large hands consumed the ball as he grinned so big and mischievously Vince thought he’d melt right off the bench and into the water. “Take it easy on me, Billy. You know I love ya.”

Billy gathered two more balls from John and juggled them. The enlarging crowd oohed and ahhhhhedd at his extraordinary display.

“I forgot you were a circus clown once.”

The balls halted with a hard glare from the juggler. The crowd moaned. Vince sucked a short breath before the yellow streak hit the cage right near his face.

Vince sighed hard. Placing a palm to his chest, he used his best Shakespearian accent. “For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. James, chapter one, verse twenty.”

Billy’s chuckle bounced in his chest as his mustache took on an ominous tilt. He pitched again, barely missing the target. “There’s a force field around that thing or something.”

“Watch out, Billy.” Vince said around the snorkel now firmly in his mouth. “Your Star Trek is showing.”

Billy straightened to full height. His gaze narrowed on the target, then Vince. The muscle in his cheek twitched. As his attention moved back to the bull’s eye, his hands came together around the ball like a major league baseball player beginning a pitch. He pulled his arm back, stepped into the throw, eyes never leaving his objective. The ball released from his fingers and drove straight into the tank arm.

It didn’t budge.

Vince’s breath eased back into his lungs as he mouthed a
thank you
to the heavens.

“It’s rigged,” someone shouted from the crowd.

Cassandra strode over and belted the thing with her fist.

Vince grabbed the chicken wire and stood as the bench dropped, barely missing the fall.

“It works.” She shot Vince a sparkling eye, before taking her place in the crowd. “It just needs a little muscle.” She scanned the throngs and called, “Who’s got the muscle?”

“Let me at ‘im!”

“Mom?”

Vince sighed relief at the petite Mrs. Hessing who received the next round of balls from John. Only that look in her eye made him—

Thwat!

Her underhanded pitch, drove the ball into the target, sending Vince plunging to the depths.

John’s eyes gleamed when he turned them on a soaking Vince. “Guess you didn’t know Greta was the strike-out queen of fast-pitch softball back in the day.”

Vince shook the water from his ears.

“They called her Cannon Ball.”

Vince blew the water from his face. “No, John. I didn’t know that.” He landed his rear back on the bench and—

Thwat!

Glug, glug, glug.

Vince pulled the mask and snorkel off his face. They didn’t help anyhow. The crowd roared pleasure over Vince’s demise.

Mrs. Hessing eyed him with a glare that reeked of vengeance laced with a tinge of a smile. Vince sensed she needed this. He resettled on the bench, eyes locked with his accuser.

A look of satisfaction grew across her features as she tossed the ball up and down in one hand. When was she going to throw that last bomb? Vince’s heart raced with anticipation. Her Cheshire grin became even more malicious. She swiveled to bow to her raging fans, holding the final ball high above her head. The noise erupted as they shouted and cheered, banging tables and trash cans in a tribal beat.

Thwat!

Plunge!

Chlorinated water stung his nose and dripped down his throat. Vince hadn’t even seen her turn. He spit and spewed as the woman strode to the cage, a serious smile hard on her face. He could barely hear her voice over the chants of “Can-non-Ball, Can-non-Ball.” She spoke through the holes, “You are now forgiven, Vince Steegle.” Shoulders high, she waltzed away.

 

~*~

 

The sight of Vince emerging from the dunk tank dripping wet after that line of people plied their hands at immersing him, flooded memories into Cassandra’s mind that almost swept her away. They’d spent most of that summer together in bathing suits, swimming at the club or riding in his little boat.

His smile shone through the dark goatee that changed him from a boy to a man. The new Vince. Born again. Cassandra sighed hard as he closed in, rubbing his raven hair with a small towel.

He scanned the area. “Where’s Cannon Ball?”

Cassandra had seen her mother say something into the tank after she’d dunked him and wondered what it was. “She took Tibo home. He was getting a bit overstimulated.” Cassandra looked to her sandals. “She told me to ask you for a ride since my car is still in Billy’s shop.”

He rubbed at his face, a knowing grin astride it, but Cassandra could still hear the drip from his shorts. She didn’t think that small towel would do the job.

His eyes searched hers. “Your mom said she forgives me.”

Cassandra was glad for Vince, but it was clear there was more to that statement.

He stepped close enough he dripped on her shoes. “There’s no reason not to—”

“Have you seen Sophie?” Yes, it was a ruse to stop the upcoming question, but she really was getting a little worried. She’d scanned the crowd at the dunk tank, wanting to share in her mother’s triumph, but Sophie was nowhere to be found.

His expression turned. “Last I saw her, she was with Sky.”

Cassandra’s muscles tensed. “I haven’t seen him either.”

Kat jogged up and slapped Vince on the shoulder. Sprays of water spewed from the sleeve. She looked at Cassandra. “Wow, your mama still can throw.”

Vince chuckled. “Especially with the right incentive.”

Kat’s head tilted.

“I think the kids after her were inspired.”

“Have you seen Sophie, Kat.” Something began to niggle at Cassandra’s nerves. It wasn’t like her to disappear. She’d usually have asked to help with Tibo by now.

“No, but Amit’s got Sky pinned to the door inside the church, speaking Proverbs over him.”

“Where?” Sky, without Sopie? Something wasn’t right.

Kat pointed.

Vince grabbed Cassandra’s elbow. Apparently, he felt it too. His face tensed, he walked with force. They reached the church front steps and saw the back of Amit inside the glass doors. He appeared to be speaking to Sky. Sky looking trapped.


The Lord knows the thoughts of man; He knows that they are futile
. That’s what it says in Psalm 94. Did you know that Sky?” Amit’s innocent voice belied the look in Sky’s eyes. “
Blessed is the man you discipline, O Lord, the man you teach from your law; you grant him relief from days of trouble, till a pit is dug for the wicked.”
His pronunciation was the clearest Cassandra had ever heard.

Sky put up his hands as if to stop Amit from encroaching farther into his personal space. “Um, okay.”

Amit’s voice deepened. “
Who will rise up for me against the wicked? Who will take a stand for me against evildoers
?”

Sky shook his head, his eyes pleading with Cassandra to extricate him. She’d need to get him away so she could find out what he knew about Sophie.

“Hey, Amit.” Vince’s gentle voice got the simple man’s attention. “I’d love to hear more Proverbs. Why don’t you take a walk with me?”

Amit followed as if chasing a shiny, red balloon floating through the air. Their voices diminished down the corridor as Cassandra pinned Sky herself.

“Where’s Sophie? I haven’t seen her in an hour?”

His eyes widened. “I was trying to find you to ask the same thing. She bugged out on me.”

“What?”

“We were sitting up by the trees, and I sensed Sophie might need something to eat. She looked a little tired. So I went to get her a hot dog, but when I came back, she was gone.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “At first I thought she’d come back, so I waited there. But when she didn’t I went looking for her.”

“Did you say something to upset her?”

“No ma’am.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. It’s just not like her.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Can you show me where you were?”

“Sure.”

Vince strode up. Amit waved goodbye, smiling at his pastor. The man’s head bobbed as he disappeared out the door.

“We’re going to the trees where Sky last saw her. Vince, can you ask around?”

He nodded.

Sky led the way up the hill and rounded the line of trees. A soda cup sat perched beside a trunk as if waiting for someone to finish it. Cassandra’s cell rang.

“Cassandra!” Her heart plunged at the panic in her mother’s voice. “Where’s Sophie?”

The air grew thick around her. “Why, mom?”

Labored breaths stretched over the phone. “Because someone left a note on our door that said they took her, and we better not call the police or she’ll be dead.”

Sky pivoted at Cassandra’s gasp. “What’s wrong?”

She held up her forefinger and turned from him, whispering into the phone. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.”

Cassandra’s breathing sputtered. She could barely think or speak. “Read it to me.”

As her mother recited the awful words, Cassandra felt the heat of Sky nearing behind her. What could they do? She didn’t know. But until she had more information, she’d have to be careful who she told what.

“Is she okay?” The boy’s voice held concern.

No police.
No one can know. Cassandra couldn’t think fast enough. “She’s fine,” she finally said. “Sophie’s home with her grandma. You can go now.”

His brow crinkled as if he didn’t believe her, then he turned to leave, checking behind him a few times before he reached his car.

 

~*~

 

Like tunnel vision, Vince spied Cass at the top of the hill by the trees, staring straight at him—horror in her eyes. His heart banged in his chest. Something was wrong. He needed to get to her.

“Pastor Vince,” the voices called after him, but he ignored every one, too focused on the woman in his sites. He climbed the hill.

She hadn’t moved, her eyes glassy and hollow. “She’s been kidnapped.”

He grabbed her arm. “What? Why would you think that? Are you sure she’s just not mad at Sky.” He searched around. “Maybe she wants him to worry.”

“Mom found a note at the house.”

His mind stalled. It can’t be true. “Maybe it’s a prank.”

She speared him with her eyes. “Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s just not possible.” He paced the grass as Cass fell against a tree and gasped for breath.

“We have to call the police,” he finally blurted. Even as he said the words he knew they’d need to consider the ramifications of telling the wrong people. From his contacts at The Dock, he’d learned to be careful with any information he might possess, even with some members of law enforcement.

“We can’t. They said they’d kill her if we did.”

He pulled her deeper into the trees to stay out of view of the crowd, blood rushing in his ears. “Who kidnapped her? Why?”

BOOK: Flee From Evil
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