“Maybe, but Phil checked it out,” he said. “Her name is Carla Brown, but they call her Cookie. Patricia Brown is a common name.”
He’d call her later. Big Brothers were encouraged to discuss any concerns they had with their Little Brother’s parents, and Alex teasing his sister about being adopted was a suitable subject to discuss. This time, he’d demand a face-to-face meeting. Being too busy with work was not an excuse to neglect her child’s welfare.
Jen tapped his shoulder. “I saw them at my apartment. Patty Brown and the little girl—she’s the girl in the pictures the kidnappers sent you.”
“That just shows they were in cahoots with the quote-unquote kidnappers to extort me for the code. Let’s wait for the DNA. Go ahead and return your rental. I’ll wait here.”
After she handed the keys to the attendant, he opened the passenger door and kissed her cheek. “Ready?”
“Everything’s too confusing,” Jen slumped in the bucket seat. “There are too many kidnappers, too many hairbrushes, too many prepaid phones and text messages. By the way, did you take Rey’s phone?”
Dave handed it to her. “I just received a call. The crazy bitch still wants the memory stick. No luck finding it?”
Jen stared at it. “I think Christy has it. The Walkers were robbed, and their house ransacked but nothing was taken. And Mrs. Sanders, Christy’s English teacher, called saying Christy plagiarized a poem about a ghost car covered in blood with the black hair of his beloved stuck on the hood.”
Dave jerked the wheel, almost merging into a blaring semi. “A car? What color?”
“A ghost. Wouldn’t it be white?”
“You think it’s the car that killed Rey? His beloved? Was Rey killed by his lover?”
Jen shook her head. “Rey had a prom picture with a girl.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. He might have been confused or maybe he’s bisexual. So which one of the thugs do you think it is?”
“But Snakehead wanted to rape me. Why?”
“To punish you for Rey wanting to marry you.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. You must have cared for Rey.”
“Not really. I want to be truthful with you. It was Rodrigo who broke my heart.” She plucked a pink note from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. “Here, read.”
“I’m driving. Read it to me.”
“I can’t.” Her shoulders twitched, and she turned toward the door.
Dave steadied himself behind a line of cars and flipped the note onto the steering wheel. His vision blurred, and he blinked to keep himself in the lane. He wanted to know whose baby Rod referred to. Was it Abby? Or another baby? He glanced at her. She looked distraught. He wouldn’t pressure her to speak. He kept driving.
Chapter 36
Jen peeked at Dave and sucked the insides of her cheeks. He was too quiet. His mouth was pressed tight, and his knuckles jutted white from the steering wheel. Full disclosure. No more covering up her shame. No more running and hiding. He had probably guessed by now. She steadied her breathing and gripped the armrests.
“Rod got me pregnant.”
He exhaled harshly through his nostrils as if the thought disgusted him. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“We have hundreds of miles. I don’t ever want to hide anything from you again.”
“Go ahead.” The look he gave her was part sympathetic and part resigned.
“He gave me a ring, told me he wanted to marry me after he returned from seeing his grandmother… And then I lost the baby and tried to commit suicide. My uncle José put me in a hospital.”
His breath hissed through his teeth. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I was so ashamed. Not even Christy knew.”
“Was this when you disappeared?”
“It was awful. Rod was disgusted with me. When I started to show, I called my uncle and he sent me a plane ticket. I was going to give it up for adoption… b-but I lost it instead.”
“It’s okay.” He gripped her hand and squeezed it.
“But it hurt so badly.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Rather than being relieved, I was depressed. When I got out of the mental hospital, Uncle José told me he’d pay for plastic surgery and a gym membership if I’d go back to California and enroll in college. I had to be strong for Christy, so I came back.”
“You changed your name. Why?”
“Afraid…” she said. “The newspapers had me pegged as the Napping Nanny. I wanted a new life, a new identity, so I asked my father if I could take his last name. The judge thought it was reasonable, but I didn’t petition to change my first name because I thought he’d get suspicious, like I was running from creditors.”
“Jennifer.” His voice was gritty. “I’m glad you kept your first name. I don’t particularly care what your last name is as long as it’s mine.”
Jen’s heart did the flip flop thing, like it wasn’t sure whether to speed up or slow down. Had she heard him correctly? She didn’t dare ask him to clarify.
Dave slowed the SUV and merged to the right. He pulled off the highway to a lonely road. Tires crunching on gravel, the SUV stopped alongside a nursery full of boxed palm trees. He cut the engine, shifted in his seat and took her hand. “This wasn’t how I planned it, but I can’t wait any longer.”
Leaning over to her side, he caressed her face and murmured in her hair. “Jennifer, I’m of sound mind and body. I don’t fall in love easily, but when I do, it’s forever.”
Ugh… Something was off. She’d just told him the most awful secret. Sweat moistened her palms, and a jittery sensation lightened her head.
“Is this how you felt about Jocelyn?” Her words slipped in a hurried whisper.
He drew a thumb across her cheek, his eyes intently on her. “Yes. But she’s gone. You, Jennifer Cruz Jones. You’re the one I love, right here, right now.”
“But… but…” Hope bubbled and collided with doubt. Palm fronds whipped in the wind, their sound echoed the blood swishing through her ears.
His fingers swept across her temple. “I should have thought about how you felt back then. You cared for Abby and were fond of her. After Jocelyn died, you were there for Abby, and for me. But you must have been in grief also. I don’t know how I would have gotten through those months without you. Y-you comforted me…”
That wasn’t the way she remembered it. He’d treated her like a piece of furniture, stepping around her and hiding in his den like a wounded beast.
“I guess having anyone there was better than nobody.”
“You weren’t just anyone.” He lowered his eyes. “And well…the grief was too fresh. But, Jen, if Abby hadn’t disappeared… eventually, I would have fallen in love with you. Honest.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He kissed her cheeks and nose. “Because I fell in love with you while reading your letters and looking at the pictures and videos of you and Abby. Last night, after I left your place, I watched hours of videos. One of the wedding videos, the one Owen took, showed you in the background, modest and supportive, even when Jocelyn denied you maid of honor. I saw how kind you were to the woman who spilled punch on herself and the mother whose baby wouldn’t stop crying. You talked to toddlers and shook rattles at babies. You helped mothers get food for their kids at the buffet table, and even though no one asked you to dance, you gladly held purses and wraps for those of Jocelyn’s friends who were on the dance floor. I should have noticed and asked you to dance.”
“You really do make me sound pitiful.”
Gee, and I wonder if Owen filmed me stuffing my face.
“No, not pitiful, beautiful, inside and out. You’ve captured my heart. I promise you, I’ll never touch another woman as long as you live.”
Jen quivered in the bucket seat. What was going on? Was this real or was she dreaming?
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I’m going to ask you a question.”
Jen’s heart thudded like a hyperactive child pounding on her first drum set. She wet her lips.
“Do you believe God would forgive you if you asked, or do you have to earn his forgiveness?”
Jen lowered her face and patted her thighs, almost laughing at the absurdity. This wasn’t what she expected. But in a way, she was relieved. “I’m not sure.”
“Jesus said, ‘Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.’ You go to him empty-handed, like this.” He took her hand. “Open you hand.”
She turned her palm up, not daring to look at his face. She needed forgiveness, but what did it have to do with empty hands?
“I’m going to give you a gift.” He placed the box in her palm and clasped it. “Take it and it’s yours.”
She trembled under his touch, wondering what was in the box. Perhaps empty, an illustration for the pitch he was making. He used to go door-to-door and convert people. That was how he met Jocelyn. She hazarded a glance. His gaze was warm, benevolent, enveloping her with care. A flush warmed her cheeks. She tried to shake the box, but he held onto her hand tightly.
“Remember John 3:16?” he said. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
“Uh… Yes, Pastor Thomason told me to memorize it when he gave me the Bible.”
“Not just memorize, but believe it. God gave his Son. A gift. When someone gives you a gift, do you have to earn it? Work for it? Pay for it?” He held her hand, not letting her open her palm.
“No. Just take it.”
“Or you could refuse it, couldn’t you?” He squeezed her hand gently and let go. “No one says you have to take it.”
She held onto the gilded cardboard box. “But I don’t know what it is.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “God shows us his gift in the Bible. His Son, Jesus Christ died on the cross and rose again so that we could be forgiven of all our sins. ‘To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins.’ God’s gift is his Son, Jesus Christ. Will you take it?”
Jen teetered on the balance. Could she really just take it? With all her sins, she had nothing to lose. “Yes. I want God to forgive me. And I want his gift.”
“Then, let’s pray and tell God. I’ll help you.” His voice was as soft as his touch.
Jen wanted the warmth of acceptance, of belonging. Jesus would never cast her away. She bowed her head and repeated after him. “Dear God, I believe You when You said You’d forgive my sins if I believed in Your Son, Jesus Christ. I’m asking You to save me and forgive my sins. I acknowledge my sins, they are ever before me. And I confess them to You.”
Dave kissed the top of her head. “You did it. Jen. He’s saved you, and you have a clean slate. Everything forgiven. Now, let me ask you. If you were to sin again, would he cast you away or would you still be forgiven?”
His grin encouraged her, and a warm feeling hugged her.
“He’d never cast me out,” she answered. “He promised. So he would still forgive me and keep me. It’s that easy, right?”
“Yes. Would God make it so hard to take his gift?” Dave held her hand and squeezed it over the box.
Jen wiped tears with her free hand. A feeling of incredible lightness swept her, and the weight of her depression and guilt lifted as effortlessly as the sightseeing balloons that floated in the foothills of San José.
When she looked up, Dave stared at her expectantly. “Do you want to open the box and see what my gift is? I know it’s miserable compared to what God just gave you.”
“It’s not miserable. Even if you gave me a dog turd, it’d still be from you.”
“You are so not romantic.” He took a black velvet box out of the cardboard box. “Open it.”
A gust of wind shook the car, and Jen’s shoulders slumped. Abby was still out there, and she was at fault. And Christy was still missing. Not a good time to think of anything else.
“I can’t. Not until we get Abby back.”
He cupped her face and stroked her beauty mark with his thumb. “My love for you is not contingent on getting Abby back. Remember my words. I love you, I forgive you, and I want a future with you without regrets.”
She nodded and tucked the box in her pocket. God had saved her and forgiven her. But Dave was only a man, and a man could change his mind.
* * *
Dave kissed Jen again, not too deep lest she thought he only desired her physically. “I guess I could have done that better, found something more romantic than the side of the road. But I wanted you to know in case anything happens to either one of us. I love you, baby.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she shivered at the same time. He switched on the ignition and cranked up the heat. Outside, the temperature had dropped and the sun sat low in the sky. She put a hand on his thigh as he pulled onto the road. “I love you, too.”
A warm glow spread over him. “Jen, you’ve just given me my life back.”
She squeezed his knee. “Thank you for telling me about God’s gift. I don’t think I could have listened to anyone but you.”
Emotion swelled in his throat. So many years he considered her his enemy, talked himself into hating her, when all along, she had been hurting, grieving and so lovable. He loved her so much his entire body ached. He swallowed and gripped the steering wheel. Could he truly put the past behind him and cherish her, or would he resort to picking the wound whenever they fought?
“Christy’s still not answering.” Jen had her ear pressed to her cell. She left a message and looked glumly at Dave. “We don’t even know where to go. What do we do when we get to Reno?”
“My father has a house there. I’ll call him and see if he can let us stay while we search.”
“Dave? What about the kidnappers? And Abby?”
“We can’t do anything until the DNA comes back. Phil thinks they’re not kidnappers—that they’re extortionists. Rey returns from Iraq and finds out about Abby’s kidnapping. He sees an opportunity to make money, so he uses his daughter as bait.”
“But… it doesn’t make sense if his daughter is Emily.”
“Okay, so he uses Patty Brown’s daughter as bait. Same difference.”
“I still don’t want anything to happen to Abby.” Jen rubbed his arm.
“Me either. They’ve already hurt you.” His voice wavered. “The worst part is I failed to protect you.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” He made a fist. “They hurt you to prove they could be violent. I’m sorry about blaming you. I say stupid things when I’m stressed.”