Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (12 page)

* * *

Chuck sat on the exam table, fumbling to button his shirt. Muscle spasms. He knew it wasn’t anything serious, and now he felt like an idiot. He’d terrified Bobbi and wasted time everybody should have been using to find Shannon.

He hoped it was the cardiologist pulling the curtain back, but it was Joel. “What’s going on?”

“
I’m waiting for them to let me go home.”

“
No heart attack?”

“
No. I tried to tell you. But I get to do a stress test Tuesday, and they gave me a couple of prescriptions.”

“
Blood pressure?”

“
A little high, but not bad.”

“
So it’s stress.”

“
Most likely.” Chuck sighed deeply. “I feel like a complete failure, on so many levels.”

“
Dad—”

“
Last night, Shannon said I brought a curse on us. That’s why Brad’s dead, why you guys can’t have children.”

“
You don’t believe her, do you?”

“
She makes a good case.”

“
This is not your fault. None of it.”

“
It’s my fault Shannon left.”

“
No, it’s Shannon’s fault. She’s selfish and immature, and I’d like to give her a good spanking.”

“
Now that sounds like a dad.”

“
Yeah, I’ve been practicing.”

Chuck stood and slowly pushed his shirttails into his jeans. “But what if it
is
because of me that you and Abby . . .”

Joel held up his hand. “First of all, I don’t think God operates that way. Second, God knows what He’s doing. He has to be in control of all this or else He’s not God.”

“
Yeah but . . .”

“
No buts,” Joel said. “Abby and I have both seen doctors. There is no earthly reason why we haven’t had kids yet.” Then he smiled. “No earthly reason.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “It used to give us fits. We worried and grieved over it, but then I started studying. There are plenty of children in the Bible born to parents who longed for a child and were unable to have any. Men like Samuel, and John the Baptist.” Joel smiled again. “Every one of those children who were so desperately longed for grew up to do great things. Every one of them was specially used by God. He’s going to do something great with our children. I know it.”

Chuck smiled at Joel’s boundless optimism and faith. “Your mother did a good job raising you.”

“
She had a little help.”

“
Thanks, but I know better.” Brad and Joel grew up during his workaholic years, so Bobbi handled most of the parenting alone, with occasional interference from him. That’s why this thing with Shannon didn’t make any sense. He took his responsibility as a father so much more seriously with her and Jack. He thought they were close. He thought he knew her. “So what do we do about Shannon?”

“
She’ll call Mom tomorrow.”

“
You sound sure.”

“
She’s a lot like Brad, and Brad would want to give you the opportunity to grovel and beg after you’d been sufficiently punished.”

“
Brad wasn’t like that.”

“
He was twenty or so years ago. It was your affair. He changed profoundly after that.”

Joel had a point, but was Shannon that calculating and manipulative? “She’s punishing us?”

“
Probably just you, but she has to reassure Mom. Mom is an innocent victim.”

She’s always the innocent victim.
“You think Shannon’s okay then?”

“
She’s exactly where she wants to be right now, exactly where she planned.”

* * *

Relieved to be home, but no less exhausted, Bobbi left Chuck in the study with Jack and Gavin, and headed back to the kitchen, to the coffeemaker. Joel said Shannon was safe, that she would call soon. Bobbi trusted Joel, trusted him enough to send him on home. Now she just wanted a pot of coffee to sip while she waited for the phone to ring. And Rita, bless her heart, already had it brewed.

“
You didn’t have to stay,” Bobbi said, “and you certainly didn’t have to do dishes.”

Rita dried her hands on the dishtowel, then reached for a mug. “Jack needed some company. We hated to leave him. How’s Chuck?”

“
Fine, they said it was a muscle spasm. He’s got a stress test on Tuesday and they’re going to put him on some medication.”

“
Thank God.” Rita set her mug on the kitchen table and took the seat across from Bobbi. “Baby, honestly, I was more worried about you than Chuck.”

“
Yeah, I’m not sure how much more I can take.” Bobbi took a long drink from her coffee, relishing the warmth permeating through her insides, no matter how temporary. “I’ve been treading water, but I’m getting exhausted.”

“
You haven’t taken time to grieve for Brad.”

“
Shannon and Jack needed me. I couldn’t . . .” She looked away as tears formed. “And now Shannon’s . . .”

Rita reached over to hug her sister. “She’ll be back.”

Bobbi wiped her eyes. “Gavin says she’s the prodigal.”

“
I don’t think so,” Rita said. “I think she’s like a wounded animal, and she’s got no idea how to deal with her heartache. She’s lashed out at everybody who got close, and finally she ran.”

“
She should have talked to me.”

“
Yes, she should have.” Rita let go of Bobbi and looked her in the eyes. “Now listen to yourself. You need to talk to somebody, too, whether it’s me or Chuck or somebody else.”

She swallowed another mouthful of coffee. “I’ll be fine as soon as we get Shannon home.”

* * *

“
I don’t think I’ve done this much in a single day in my entire life.” Dylan dropped onto Shannon’s sofa and motioned for her to join him. “I’m exhausted.”

“
I tried to warn you.” She sat on the opposite end of the sofa from him, consciously aware of the distance. “Thanks for hanging out with me and helping me carry my TV upstairs. Saved me the delivery charge.”

“
Glad to do it. You’re amazing.”

“
Not really.” Shannon felt her face flush. She hated that. It made her look like a little girl who’d never had a boyfriend. Which was true, but she still hated it.

“
Seriously. Think about it. Yesterday, you were a kid at home, but today, you’ve got a place, a car, a little money in the bank. You’re a woman who’s got it made.”

“
Hardly. When I call my folks, that’s when it’s really gonna hit the fan.”

“
Your dad?”

She nodded and slouched a little closer to Dylan. “I had to do something, though. My dad . . .”

“
He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“
How’d you know?”

“
Well, it’s not rocket science. I got his princess arrested, and the big blow-up came after we went out.”

“
I’ve never done anything wrong, but that doesn’t seem to count.”

Dylan twisted around to face her and eased close enough to take her hand. She knew she should pull back, but his hand was warm, comforting, and truth be told she wished he’d put his arms around her and let her cry. She wanted him to tell her this wasn’t the biggest mistake she’d ever made.

“
Your dad’s wrong.” He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, the very same way her dad always did. “You know, since he hates me anyway . . .” He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips lingering near hers.

Her head spun, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. Embarrassed at her pathetic inexperience, she kissed him back, imitating the most passionate kisses she’d ever seen in the movies.

His smile was dreamy like he was intoxicated, the same way he smiled at his party. “Did I say you were beautiful?” he whispered, and she felt his breath on her neck, in her ear.

“
I’m sure I’m not the first girl you’ve ever told that.”

“
I still mean it, and
you
are not a girl.” He leaned closer still and kissed her again.

“
But, I can’t . . . ,” she sputtered as Dylan kissed her once more.

“
You can,” he whispered, then slipped an arm around her. “You know you can.”

Chapter 8

Compunction

Sunday, June 29

Shannon sat in her darkened bathroom, hugging her knees, rocking herself in a pointless attempt to stop the next round of tears.
Now
you’re a woman, Dylan said. No, she wasn’t. She could hear her own angry voice spitting out the word “whore” at her father. That’s what she was. Not a woman. Defiant. Needy. Weak. She allowed Dylan to go too far.

Then he wouldn’t stop.

She pulled herself to the toilet and vomited. She never meant for it to be this way. A precious treasure she should guard, her father said, and she let Dylan Snider snatch it away. Last night she hungered for reassurance, for validation. He made her feel wanted, capable, and for a brief instant, empowered.

That was before he pinned her arms down.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father’s face. “All I ever wanted was to be sure that nobody ever hurt you.” Right now, she would give anything on God’s green earth to crawl up beside her daddy and hear him say everything would be all right.

The muffled sound of a distant song filtered into her bathroom. That song . . . That was her ringtone! Her phone! Could it be her dad? Could it work that easily? She gathered herself up and found her phone. It wasn’t her dad. It was Katelyn.

“
Shannon! Thank God! Where are you?”

“
I’m away.”

“
I knew that much,” Katelyn huffed. “Listen, everybody’s flipping. You gotta go home.”

“
I can’t.”

“
You have to! Your dad went to the ER yesterday with chest pains!”

She gave him a heart attack. She thought all those horrible things about him, but chest pains . . . A new wave of guilt washed over her. What would happen if he knew . . . the rest of it? “Is he okay?”

“
It wasn’t a heart attack, but they’re gonna do more tests. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come and get you.”

“
I can’t.” He can’t know. He can’t find out.

“
Of course you can.”

“
No, you don’t understand. It has to be this way. Tell my mom I’m okay, but the less you know the better.”

“
Why? What’d you do?”

“
I don’t want to talk about it.”

“
Dylan?”

Everything inside Shannon ached. How could it be that obvious?

“
He’s there?” Katelyn asked.

“
Not anymore.”

“
Oh no. You didn’t . . .”

But she did. Her stomach twisted and she thought she’d vomit again. She hung her head, breathed deeply and squeaked out, “That’s why I can’t go home.”

“
Your parents, they’ll understand. Your dad, he knows better than anybody—”

“
I gotta go. Tell them I’m sorry.” Shannon clicked off the phone so Katelyn couldn’t call back, and made a mental note to pick up a new cell phone. She couldn’t risk any more calls or deal with any messages.

Katelyn would never be able to keep it a secret, either. If she couldn’t face her best friend, how could she possibly look into her father’s eyes or feel her mother’s soft hands on hers, and admit that she let Dylan Snider . . . do . . . that?

But when her parents found out, well, then it would make sense why she disappeared.

* * *

Chuck arrived at Preston Road Community Church early, while the Bible study classes were still meeting, so he seized the opportunity to slip into the auditorium for a few quiet moments alone. Bobbi understood he couldn’t sit at home waiting for the phone to ring. He loved that about her. But he understood she wasn’t leaving until she heard from Shannon.

Taking a seat in his family’s usual pew, he felt a smothering burden, as real as if sandbags were strapped to his back.
Dear God, everything’s a mess right now, and I don’t know what to do. How can I find Shannon and get her home? I don’t even know where to look, and I’m concerned Bobbi’s sliding into despair. I have no idea what’s going on with Jack, because I’ve not taken the time to sit down and talk with him. The way everything has fallen apart in the last two weeks makes me afraid for my family. Are we doing something wrong? Are You punishing us? Is this . . . is it a curse that I brought on us?

Chuck felt someone sit down, so he raised his head. “Hey, Dad,” Jack said, then looked past him back through the auditorium. “Mom made me come. Said you needed the company.”

“
Me? What about you?”

“
I don’t know.” He shifted so he could cross his legs. “Things were just starting to settle down when Shannon took off.” He leaned back and stared at the front of the church. “Last night I was thinking, in some ways, it reminds me of physics class. You know, when you work a physics problem—”