For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am
I in the midst of them.
St. Matthew's words flowed in mental concert with the man's assurance. Caroline felt the peace blanketing her despair.
As the word spread, others from the Edenton group continued to come, in twos and threes. The inspectors determined that the other families had no more idea where the girls had gone than Caroline and Blaine. The Butlers, Señora Marron with Rick Scalia and his mom, Mrs. Atkins and Eddie, and the Petermans with Kurt and Wally. Caroline's hope was battered as one after the other claimed to have no idea of Karen and Annie's whereabouts.
After the questioning by the inspectors, Señora Marron led them in fervent prayer that the girls would be safe, wherever they were, and that they would return to Blaine and Caroline soon.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spiritâ”
The charged silence in the room broke with a strangled sob.
Kurt turned into his mother's shoulder with ragged tears.
Reverting to day care-mom mode without second thought, Caroline went to the distraught boy and squeezed his arm gently as she'd done since he was a toddler. “Everything is going to be fine, Kurt. I believe in God's promise. There is an explanation for all of this.”
“But itâ” He sniffed. “It's my fault.”
For a split second, the collective heartbeat in the room stopped.
Finally Dana held her son away from her. “Kurt, what are you talking about?”
“Do you know anything about the girls?” Manny asked, interrupting the call on his cell phone.
Kurt shook his head. “No, I don't know where they are . . . honest,” he added at the inquisitive tilt of his mom's head.
Caroline's suspended breath gave way with a dying flicker of anticipation.
“But I know where the card is,” the boy said.
“What?” said Manny.
“Where?” Hector asked at the same time.
Kurt cleared his throat, and blinked the irritation from his eyes.
“In the mail.”
“I think you'd better explain more than that, young man.” Dana Gearhardt narrowed her gaze at him. “Every little detail, please.”
Kurt cut a sidewise glance at Wally, launching Mrs. Peterman into inquisition mode as well.
“Wally!” She pinched her son's upper arm. “Just what do you have to do with this?”
Round-eyed, Wally rubbed the offended spot. “Nothing. I just helped Kurt get the card from Karen's stuff and mail it.”
“Where did you mail it?” Hector asked.
“Cuernavaca,” Kurt told them. “Remember, I asked where the post office was?”
“That was three days ago,” Hector figured aloud, turning to José Caro. “It's probably still in the Mexican system somewhere.”
“From the beginning, boys.” Manny pulled out two chairs from the table by the window and motioned for the youngsters to take a seat.
It was bizarre watching the studded, tattooed, and fire-engine-red-haired young man interrogate Kurt and Wally. But then, there had been Blaine's marriage proposal in front of a goggled and finned audience. The whole trip had been surreal. Maybe if Caroline pinched herself, she'd wake up and find it was all a dream.
Kurt had witnessed John giving Karen the card and heard his spiel about poor postal service and wanting his mom to get it on time for her birthday. Suspicion, tinged with a dislike of his com- petition, prompted him to intervene. The morning they left for Cuernavaca, he and Wally lifted the card while helping load the luggage, then mailed it in the colonial town.
“Why didn't you tell us?” Dana asked when Kurt finished.
“I'm no snitch. Besides, me and Wally talked it over. If we just mailed it, there wouldn't be any problem with customs at the airportâ just in case there was something weird in it.”
“But we didn't think there was,” Wally put in hastily. “We thought it was just a dumb card.”
Kurt sighed, shaking his head. “We just didn't want anybody to get caught with something they shouldn't have hadâeven if it was just a dumb card.”
“Any chance you remember the address?” The skepticism in Hector's voice betrayed his hope, or lack of it.
Kurt shook his head.
“But we have it,” Wally spoke up, drawing all the attention to him. “You remember,” he told Kurt. “We decided to send it priority so the post office wouldn't lose a mom's birthday card.” He glanced at Dana and Caroline as though checking to see if that brought them any grace. “Anyway, they gave us a receipt with the address and all on it. It's got to be in one of the souvenir bags.”
“We need that receipt, guys,” Hector informed them.
Wally and Kurt left to search their bags.
“So maybe Rocha doesn't know the card is missing . . . just that his courier is.” Manny toyed with one of the studs in his ear, lost in speculation.
“Which probably means that he's focusing on John Chandler, not the girls,” the young man said, going on to explain. “If I were Chandler and had flubbed the deal, I'd split, leaving Rocha clueless . . . which is what it appears he and his roommate did.”
“Okay, so the couriers split. So what about this?” Hector countered, taking in the messy room with a sweep of his arm. “Why would Rocha's men search the room?”
Manny wasn't certain. “Maybe he caught John or Javier and knows the card is missing. He'd send someone to double-check their story before he slit their throats. Or maybe he's just covering his bases, determining where the card isn't. Rocha leaves nothing to chance.”
“Maybe,” Hector acknowledged. “Or maybe he's getting rid of all the loose ends.”
“But the girls know nothing about Rocha or the stamp . . . just a greeting card,” Caroline spoke up, her beating heart on her sleeve.
Manny shrugged, “Man, I can't put my finger on it, but I throw in with Caro.” He glanced at the unmade beds where the girls had shed their sleep shirts. “Missing swimsuits tell me Rocha has nothing to do with the girls' disappearance. The fact that two teenage girls are so unpredictable falls in their favor.”
“Annie might have been swayed by Karen,” Caroline conceded.
“It just isn't like her not to leave a note.”
But all things were possible. Again Caroline focused through her tears at the upside-down slogan on her T-shirt. Clenching the cotton-knit promise in her fists, she just knew Manny was right.
Four hours of stopping at every shop and café along the beach-side boulevard and showing the photo strip of pictures that Karen and Annie had taken in a vending booth pounded Blaine's anger into exhausted frustration. No one had seen his daughter. He and Randy were just going over plowed ground.
“Oh, sÃ
,” clerk after vendor told them. “I see her picture with the
policÃa
before you
.
”
The situation was out of his control. He was out of control. The minute he'd launched his attack on Caroline, he'd wanted to take it back. But the trigger had been tripped, and the relay of his exploding nerves wouldn't stop. How could she just sit there so calmly when her world was falling apart?
Relax. God's in charge.
Blaine pushed the uninvited message out of his mind.
If he'd flown into Ellie like that, she'd have taken up the gauntlet and beat him to a pulp with it, pointing out everything he'd done wrong from the day they'd met. But Caroline hadn't. Sweet Caroline. Frightened Caroline. Calm Caroline.
“Here we go,” Randy said, returning with two espressos from a sidewalk cafe. “Black as sin.”
Blaine took the offered cup. “Did you have to use that word?”
At Randy's quizzical expression, he explained. “I'm feeling guilty right now . . . the way I spoke to Caroline. The way Iâwhat is that word the kids useâ
dissed
her faith.”
“You were under incredible stress.”
“So was she, but she had that blasted T-shirt.”
“No, Caroline has the faith of a saint and defends it like a pit bull. It shows in everything she does . . . or wears,” he added with a slight smile. “Let's take a load off our feet.”
Blaine walked after him to one of the empty bistro tables. A myriad of scenes flashed through his mind. The day at the pyramids when Caroline explained how God hung the first clock in the moon and stars. The way she comforted Karenâand himâat Guadalupe.
He'd felt closer to God that day than he could ever remember, as though God had sent this angel to comfort him and his daughter, to put to rest the pain Ellie's death had left behind.
And he'd had the nerve to call her naive. Maybe she saw more clearly through those rose-colored glasses than he did with twenty-twenty vision.
“Aren't you going to sit down?” his companion asked.
Blaine obeyed, consumed in thought.
“He
is
in charge, you know. It doesn't always seem like it, but there's a reason for everything. What goes bad, God turns to good.
I've seen it happen time and again.” Randy blew the steam from the coffee, giving Blaine time to digest his words.
“But how do you
know
that?” Blaine asked. “That it wasn't coincidence.”
“You have to know God . . . personally. Being able to recite Scripture alone doesn't do it. Going to church every Sunday doesn't do it. It's the one-on-one relationship that matters.” There was that hint of a smile again. “You walk and talk with Him just as a child does an imaginary friend. Except God isn't imaginary.” Randy's confidence gave way to wonder. “I know it sounds weird, but truth is stranger than science or fiction.”
The way this trip had come about and evolved, Blaine couldn't argue that. “How do you know it's God sending you a message and not just what you want?”
“That's where studying the Word comes in. If your answer is in keeping with the guide He gave us, then it's Him.”
“Yes, but what about all the interpretations? One group believes one thing, another something else.”
“Key word is
study.
God will reveal His meaning for you. I'm always finding something new in passages I've read time and again.” Randy snorted as though he still found it hard to believe.
But he did believe. There was no doubt in Blaine's mind about that. Like Caroline, Randy lived his faith, not in flamboyance, just plain day-to-day living. He'd rallied to Blaine's side like a comrade in arms . . . like another messenger from above.
“If you don't mind, I'd like to pray.”
A blade wedged in Blaine's throat, cutting on all sides. Unable to speak, he nodded his assent.
“Heavenly Father, give Blaine and Caroline and the girls strength and courage in this hour of need. Give the police wisdom and speed in bringing justice to those who deserve it. And deliver our children safe into the arms of their parents. In Jesus' name . . .”
Blaine couldn't have said it better himself. Fact was, he couldn't assemble his wits enough to say it at all. Yet, the heaviness in his chest seemed to ease, as if lifted by an unseen hand, and the mention of the name
Jesus
freed his voice enough for an “Amen.”
Conviction took the reins of his shattered thought process. The trip was no coincidence. These godly people were not here by chance. God saw Blaine's need and sent him earth angels. Surely, He
was
in charge.
“Hold the elevator.”
Impatient to return to Caroline, to lay his heart at her feet for forgiveness, Blaine pushed the hold button and peered around the elevator door to see what the holdup was. Eloise was laboring to get Irene's wheelchair into the cubicle before she missed the ride.
“Here, let me help,” Randy offered, stepping out and taking over.
“I'm out of puff,” the elder sister exclaimed, leaning against the rail next to Blaine. “Too much nightlife.”