Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3) (13 page)

“But…you couldn’t have known him well, and you were ready to leave your mom?”

“You don’t know him. He…He’s wonderful and caring.”

“But you weren’t ready to leave, you said.” Lynn’s mind shuffled the information. “How old is he?”

“Why does that matter?” Lily’s voice rose. “That’s all people see.”

“Because that’s important. I take it he’s older than you by a long shot.”

“He said no one would understand. That they’d only give us trouble. That no one would understand.” She jumped from the chair. “I shouldn’t have told you!”

In the bed, Maria stirred. Her eyes opened. “Lily? What’s wrong? What…” Her voice stretched. Her eyes sought her daughter.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” But the glance the girl flashed Lynn held a threat. 

The hum of conversation surrounded Sharee at the airport. She ignored it. Too many emotions surged through her—the pain of the miscarriage, the ache from John’s phone call, the anxiety of wondering what he thought after hearing Zeke’s voice.

His head appeared farther down the gangway, his height allowing her to spot him before he walked into the actual airport. She moved forward when he stepped through the doorway. Their eyes met. Something passed over his face, but she couldn’t read it.

He looked more tired than she’d ever seen him, and he hadn’t smiled. She swallowed the lump in her throat and edged past the other passengers, even as he did. She stopped in front of him. He carried a fedora in one hand and nothing else. His clothes were wrinkled, and he hadn’t shaved for days.

“John.” Her voice broke on his name.

He shoved the hat onto his head, reached out and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was long and rough. When he stepped back, his gaze searched her face then rose to look past her. Sharee twisted around. Bob stood a few feet away.

Bob smiled. “It’s good to see you, Sharee. Good to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re both home and safe.”

John nodded at Bob. “I know Sue couldn’t make it to meet the plane. Come home with us and get something to eat. I’ll drop you off later.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take a cab.”

“Not happening. We have a car, and you live too far away to take a cab.”

“You two have things to talk about. I’ll catch a cab.”

“No.” John shook his head. “I didn’t leave you stranded in Jakarta; I won’t leave you stranded here.”

Sharee heard the trace of amusement in John’s voice and glanced at Bob. The bond between the two men had tightened during the short time overseas.

Bob’s glance held amusement, too. “All right, you can drop me off, but if I hadn’t insisted on taking the plane, we wouldn’t have ended up in the ocean and wouldn’t be here now.”

“Ended up in the ocean?” Sharee’s gaze jumped from one man to the other. “Is that why you’re home early? What happened? What—”

John interrupted her. “We’ll talk about it later.”

She stared at him. His words sounded cool, detached. That combined with the fedora and the rumpled clothes made him seem like a stranger. Was he upset about Zeke? He’d obviously mentioned it to Bob. As soon as possible, she’d tell him about that and the miscarriage. Her heart clenched.
No
…how could she do that when he’d just arrived?

But… They’d ended up in the ocean? Had she almost lost him? Fear froze her to the carpet. She tried swallowing but couldn’t. Both men paused.

She put her hand out. John glanced at it, back up at her, and then wrapped it in his own.

His mouth touched the top of her head. “Later. We’ll talk later.”

***

After a week of dirt, heat, and humidity, John sat in the recliner, clean, dry, and cool. He pulled Sharee onto his lap. This was what he’d wanted after the second day overseas—to be able to come back home after everything was over, to her, to her love. He shoved the other thing aside for now.

She nestled into him. “What was it like?”

He knew what she meant, but did he want to put any of it into words right now? The death, the hurt, families torn apart, and the little they could do.

He sighed. “It’s hard. Once, we got to Medan, the director of the missions group there had plans for us already. We flew to the islands on their list. One by one. Small islands. Hit hard by the earthquake and the aftershocks and a small tsunami. Small to our thinking, not so small when you live in grass huts near the beach. We flew people to hospitals and bodies to morgues or to mass graves.” 

“Oh, John…how terrible.”  

“We picked up whatever supplies we could get and flew back to the islands, and started again. Sitting here with you is what I pictured when everything else crowded in. But now, I keep thinking how many people are back there, how much more needs to be done.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“Wherever we could, sometimes in the plane.”

They were silent for a while. Sharee touched his jaw. “What did Bob mean? What happened with the plane?” 

He shuddered, not knowing why the emotions coursed through him so strong. Processing the crash had taken last place on the list of other things he had to deal with. Pulling bodies from the mud or from the smashed buildings and huts—men, women, children. And through it all, asking God why, knowing there were no answers now. Maybe never while on this earth. Yet, feeling the presence of God in everything—finding more concern, more compassion within himself than he ever had before. Without a plane, it would be impossible to do what they’d come for, so the ministry had decided to send them home. Extra baggage. That’s what they were. Now he knew what Sharee had meant. He stared past her.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“But…I…” she remained quiet for a while. He felt the resistance rise inside him until she said, “Okay.”

Free then, his mind traveled in a dozen directions, but always came back to the same thing. Zeke Richmond’s words had reverberated clear and distinct from America all the way to Indonesia, and he had ridden halfway around the world with them. John straightened in the chair.

“He called you ‘sweetheart.’”

“I know,” Sharee pushed back and looked up at him. “He did it on purpose. He was trying to get to you. You were right about him. I’m sorry.”

“You went out with him after I asked you not to. Why?”

“It was not “out” with him, John. He…” Her phone rang. Her eyes went to the end table, but she didn’t move.

Disappointment warred with other emotions he wouldn’t identify. Her phone continued ringing.

“There was a reason.”

“A reason?” He heard the tone of his words, sarcasm mixed with disbelief. Zeke Richmond’s face rose again, the challenge John saw in his eyes the night of the banquet, clear now as it was then.

“Yes.”

He looked away and fought with the anger that rose. What reason could she give? “Answer your phone.”

“No, I...”

“Answer it.” He rose, forcing her from his lap, and strolled toward the back door. He needed some time. The plane going down, then being sent home, and hearing the man’s voice over the phone—the frustration of it swirled inside him. He snapped his fingers for the dog. “I’ll go for a run. We’ll talk when I get back.”

He was jogging on the back street behind the church when he heard her call. Why was she calling for him? He said they’d talk when he got back. No one hollered for someone unless it was a child. Anger surged again.

Cooper ran just ahead. Dogs, at least, were faithful.

He clenched his teeth. Where had that come from? If ever the enemy had invaded his thoughts, it was on the trip back from Indonesia. She loved him. He didn’t doubt that. Even if she had gone to lunch with Zeke Richmond, it meant nothing.

What if she went to lunch with the man to get back at him for not taking her to Indonesia.
Stop.
Sharee wasn’t like that. What if…

“Stop.” He said it aloud, whistled for the dog and headed home. Better to talk with her than have Satan drop this junk into his mind.

The dog passed him as he started across the field. His eyes rose. The space beside his truck was empty, her car gone.
She’d left?
His heart jolted. Hadn’t she wanted to talk, to explain?

When he reached the deck, he jumped the steps, stepped forward, and yanked the door open. A piece of paper lay on the kitchen counter. Words scrawled across the sheet. 

Lynn says she knows who attacked Maria. She’s going to the homeless camp to see if he’s still there. I can’t let her go alone.

Further down she’d scribbled,
She called Richards, but he didn’t answer.

What? Was she crazy? Were they both crazy?

The surge of adrenalin hit as he tossed the note back onto the counter. He spun, heading back out the door, grabbing his keys and his phone from the shelf. He slammed the door shut on the dog, vaulted over the deck stairs, and headed for his truck. Dirt and grass flew from the drive as he hit the highway. 

He punched in her phone number. No answer. The flames in the pit of his stomach grew. Why hadn’t she waited for him? He’d never met a woman so careless about her own safety.

But he’d gone jogging and not given her a chance to explain. How many times had the Lord dealt with him about his anger? Once again, it had directed his actions.

God, forgive me for letting my anger get out of control again. Protect Sharee, protect Lynn.

Ten minutes later, he turned the truck off the road into the woods and slid to a stop before the homeless camp. Sharee’s CR-V was parked next to Lynn’s Lexus. Several people stood looking his way. His glance skimmed each one. No one he knew. Behind him, another car tore around the corner and braked. He looked over his shoulder to see Detectives Richards and Carpenter climb out.

“Where is she?” Richards shoved the car door closed.

“Lynn? I don’t know, but Sharee’s with her.”

***

Sharee stopped in front of the tent’s door. When she’d asked about Lynn, a number of people pointed this way. Lynn stood just inside.

Sharee hissed her name.

Lynn looked over her shoulder, her face a mixture of emotions. “He’s gone.”

“How do you know? What if he comes back? This is crazy, Lynn. Do you have any idea—”

“I said I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I wanted to see if he was here. That’s all. He wouldn’t know I knew anything.”

“Still, you—” 

“I was so angry after I talked with Lily. She knows him. He’d planned to take her with him when he left. I called Rich, but couldn’t get him. I thought…Oh! I don’t know what I thought.”

“You should have waited for Detective Richards.”

Lynn spun to look at her. “I couldn’t let this guy get away—but he has.”

“How do you know he’s gone? What if he comes back?”

“I talked with the others. He didn’t come back last night.”

“Who is it?”

“His name’s Afton. And I hope Detective Richards gets the message soon. I have some questions for him.”

“Like what?”

“Like if they really know that Victoria’s name is not Victoria, why haven’t they done some DNA or fingerprint testing to find out who she is? And go after her husband? I just started thinking on the way over here that we’ve been left out in the cold.”

“You’re jumping from one case to the other, and they don’t have to report to us. They—”

A hand pressed over Sharee’s mouth, an arm circled her waist, and someone wrenched her backward. Her assailant dragged her from the tent. She tried to yank her arms free, struggling to liberate herself and stamped down hard on the foot beneath hers.

The arms that held her clenched. “Don’t fight.” The whispered voice stopped her.

She stilled. The hand dropped from her mouth.

“Shh. Come with me.” John dragged her farther from the tent. “You okay?” When she nodded, he looked over her shoulder. Sharee followed his glance.

Detective Richards hauled Lynn out of the tent. “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice carried to them. Other people from the camp began to crowd closer.

“You had your gun drawn.” Lynn looked shocked.

“Yeah, and I should have had the cuffs out, too. For you. What do you think you’re doing? Besides interfering with an investigation.”

“I was going to keep him occupied until you came.”

Richards looked at Carpenter, and his eyes rolled. He glanced back at Lynn. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Lynn snatched her arm free. “I couldn’t get hold of you or your partner. I left a message.”

“Some message: ‘I know who Lily’s kidnapper is.’”

“I told you where he was, and you’re here, aren’t you?”

“Lynn.” Sharee protested. What was her friend thinking? “I said you should wait for Detective Richards.”

“I didn’t want the man to get away. He—”

“What if you were trapped with a murderer?” Richards’ cut across her.

“Well, I…I would have…”

“You failed to leave the person’s name or give us any other information.” His glare would light a pile of dry leaves.

Lynn’s mouth opened, but Sharee put a warning hand on her arm. 

“Right. Think about it.” Richards glanced at the other people standing around. “No one’s to go near that tent.”

“I’ll check it out.” Detective Carpenter pulled latex gloves from his pocket and turned to the tent.

“All right,” Richards said in a loud voice. “Everyone go back to what you were doing. Nothing else is going on here.” Then he muttered under his breath, “Nothing else better go on here.”

He nodded at John. “Thanks for the help, Jergenson.”

“Anytime.”

He turned back to Lynn. “What makes you think this guy—whoever he is—is guilty?”

“Lily told me.”

He frowned. “When I talked to her, she had nothing to say.” 

“That’s because you’re intimidating.”

The detective’s eyes darkened. His mouth pulled into a narrow line.

Lynn tossed her head, the long hair shifting back over her shoulder. “She told me when I went to the hospital today. I think it threw her that her mom had some kind of relapse. I couldn’t get you. I tried twice and called Detective Carpenter, too. So, I decided to come here. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t let him know I knew anything. I just thought if he did try to leave, there might be something I could do to keep him here until you got here.”

“And how were you planning on doing that?” The detective turned to John. “Whatever they think they’re doing, it needs to stop. Now.”

John nodded, and Richard’s glance ran from Lynn to Sharee and back.

Lynn put her hands on her hips and started to say something, but received a dark look from the detective. She pressed her lips together.

“Am I understood?”

Sharee gave a quick nod then tilted her head at Lynn. Come on, girlfriend, agree here.

“This is a Sheriff’s Department investigation,” Richards said. “It is not for two untrained women who stumbled upon some information.” He focused on John again. “Can you keep them out of trouble?”

“Do I have permission to hogtie them?” John gave Sharee a look as frustrated as the detective’s. “It might take that.”

One side of Rich’s mouth rose. “Good idea. Thought you were out of the country.”

“I was.”

“Glad you’re back.”

“Just got in an hour or two ago.”

The detective showed surprise. “And you’re here already.”

“Yeah.”

Lynn cleared her throat. “We’ve helped. We had Victoria’s things. And, now, I have Lily’s information. Your interview obviously got you nowhere.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed. They stared at each other. In a moment, though, he nodded. “Okay. I give you that. And I welcome whatever information you have, but stay out of this investigation. Am I understood?”

“They’ll stay out,” John said, his gaze locked onto Lynn’s. “I’m sure Representative McCloud wants Lynn safe, too. We can get some pressure there.”

Lynn glared at him. “Leave my work out of this.” She shifted her focus to Richards again. “And what is being done about Victoria’s husband?”

For a minute, Sharee thought Lynn had gone too far. The silence seemed to hold explosives. Richards’ jaw tightened until she could see the muscles jump.

“Your suspicions about Victoria’s husband are wrong. There is no husband. All that was a lie, part of her cover. Victoria Lawson’s real name was Marianne Stablowski. She was a private investigator, not an abused wife. And there’s no way we can leave your work out of this. Tom McCloud hired her.”