Authors: Creston Mapes
Jack dropped his head and exhaled loudly.
Nigel opened the door and stood there.
“I know you understand, Jack.” Cecil stuck his fists on his waist. “Demler-Vargus just isn’t worth it right now. We’ll know when it is, if it is—and if that happens, you and Derrick will cover it.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Derrick,” Cecil said, “you’ve got one hour a day to follow up your leads on Demler-Vargus. That’s it. No more. Or you’re gonna be looking for a job at the
Auto Trader.
”
Nigel cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, holding the door open with one arm.
Jack and Derrick looked at each other and headed out.
* * *
They walked through the dark newsroom. “I need something.” Jack turned into the break room, and Derrick followed.
“You know Cecil better than I do,” Derrick said. “What gives? Why’s he holding back on this?”
Jack shrugged and put his money into a machine. “You heard him. He’s scared silly. He’d rather ignore it altogether than take a chance of getting sued.”
“But we’d just be conveying the facts.”
“I know.” Jack hit some buttons, and a bag of Chex Mix dropped to the bottom of the machine. “And we need more time to get the facts. You’re right—it isn’t like him. I think Nigel’s paranoid. He’s been against this from the beginning, and Cecil listens to him for some reason.”
Derrick grabbed a bottle of water from the minifridge on the counter and tossed one to Jack.
“I wasn’t about to tell him about our interview with Bendickson.” Jack headed for his cubicle.
“We gonna go through with it?” Derrick followed.
“It was already scheduled.”
Derrick was apprehensive about disobeying Cecil and Nigel any further. The last thing he needed was to get fired with his wedding coming up.
“What about talking to Spivey Brinkman’s girls?” Derrick said.
“Same with that,” Jack said. “Cecil and Nigel won’t know, don’t worry.”
What paper would hire Derrick if he was fired for going against his editors? How would he make a living? How would he support Zenia?
“Dude, that isn’t like you,” Derrick said. “You’re usually straight by the book.”
They got to their cubicles and squared up.
“I’m gonna call Dennis DeVry, too,” Jack said.
“Police? You heard what Coon said—”
“I don’t care. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to the Randalls and I hadn’t done everything I could. Too many weird things have gone down.”
Chapter 21
It was a frigid night. The girls were in bed and Pamela sat bundled up in gray sweats, an Ohio State hoodie, and warm socks, her feet curled beneath her in the family room. The library book she leaned toward the lamp was called
The Well
. It was about getting your needs met by God instead of people.
Jack had phoned earlier to tell her he would be working late. He wanted to make sure all the doors were locked; they’d both chuckled, knowing Margaret would have taken care of that already. The pregnancy test was still in the cupboard in the bathroom; maybe tomorrow morning Jack would have time.
The doorknob jiggled in the kitchen, and Pamela sat straight up. Then the shutters clacked shut, and she relaxed.
“Are the floodlights on?” Margaret came around the corner in her robe and slippers, hair pulled back, cold cream on her cheeks.
“Mom, those keep the girls awake, remember?”
“Oh … I keep forgetting.” She rattled the bolt lock on the front door.
“It’s all locked up, Mom.”
“Just checking.” She peeked out one of the vertical windows alongside the front door. “You really should get some of those little sheer blinds on here, honey, or those mini blinds. People can see right in—especially at night.”
“Mom, do you know how many times you’ve said that since you’ve been here?”
“Well, it’s a good idea.” Margaret shuffled over, turned on a lamp, and sat at one end of the couch. She shook her head. “I’m just thinking of the girls, that’s all.”
“Those vertical windows are three inches wide. No one’s going to see anything through those from the street.”
Her mom stared at her for the longest time, then tilted her head. “I’m proud of you, Pamela. You are a brave young woman.”
Pamela’s whole body went limp. A compliment from her mother was a rare thing. “Thank you.”
“The girls are … amazing. So confident.”
Pamela smiled.
“I realize what I’m like.” Margaret looked down at her frail hands and rubbed in her lotion some more. “I don’t know how your father put up with me all those years.”
“He knew that what happened to you in college changed your life,” Pamela said. “He understood.”
Margaret nodded. “But how do you do it? How can you stay in this house after what happened?”
Pamela took a deep breath. Walls were coming down. “We love this place, this neighborhood—”
“No … I mean, you never seem worried. I don’t see you looking over your shoulder.”
“I do look over my shoulder, Mom, but I don’t want to worry the girls—”
“The way I worried you?”
“I realize that what happened to you was terrifying. And you’ve not been able to let it go.”
Margaret tapped her head. “His face is seared in here.”
“Mom, Jack is going through the same thing you are, but with Granger.”
Margaret squinted. “I don’t follow.”
“He can’t forgive Granger.”
“After what that maniac did? I don’t blame him.”
“You asked me how I live in this house, in this town, with Granger free, after what he did. Do you want to hear my answer or not?”
Margaret’s mouth sealed into a frown, and she crossed her arms.
“It’s forgiveness, Mom.” Pamela spoke quietly. “It set me free. I had a lot of your tendencies, even before Granger came into our lives. It was paranoia.”
Margaret jerked as if someone had poked her in the side with a stick.
“Jesus set an example of forgiveness,” Pamela said. “We forgive like He did, and it sets us free.”
Margaret examined Pamela as if looking into her soul.
“Free, Mom,” Pamela whispered. “Those two words go together: forgiveness and freedom.”
“You’re saying I should forgive the man who raped me …”
“Yes, I am. Forgive him, and let it go. It will change your life.”
“And just how would I do that even if I wanted to? He never said he was sorry. I don’t know where he is.”
“You do it alone with God. And you mean it.”
Margaret pursed her lips and eyed Pamela as if considering a business deal.
Pamela knew her advice had sunk in. Having gotten that far, she sensed that her mother wouldn’t want to hear another word about it, so she changed the subject.
“Hey, you want to see something?” She hopped up and held out her hand. “Come on, I’ve been waiting to do this forever, and I’m done waiting.”
“Do what?” Margaret took her hand and followed Pamela down the hall to the bathroom.
“This!” Pamela opened the cabinet, found the pregnancy kit, and presented it to her mom.
Margaret’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes ballooned.
Pamela nodded excitedly. “I think number three is on the way!”
They hugged.
And the embrace turned into rocking.
And the rocking turned into tears.
The tears of life.
* * *
After they’d exhausted all of their energy and brainpower, Jack and Derrick went their separate ways into the freezing night. On his drive home, Jack called Officer DeVry and told him everything he knew about Demler-Vargus and all the people involved with it.
When he finally pulled into the driveway, he was spent. Pam greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. Jack grabbed a slice of pizza from the fridge and filled her in on the night’s events as they stood at the kitchen counter. The house was quiet; Jack wondered if Margaret was actually asleep or tiptoeing around, eavesdropping.
“I think Derrick’s scared,” Jack said.
Pamela’s eyes got big.
“What?” he said.
“Aren’t you scared? I mean, are we safe—Mom and the girls and me?”
Jack was so tired, he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Whoever is behind all this obviously wants you and Derrick to quit digging around. I think they made that clear today, don’t you?”
“I know, but I feel like if we don’t keep going, who’s gonna stop this? Not the police—”
“You’ve got to think of your family first, Jack. Besides, Cecil told you you’re off it. The last thing you want to do is get yourself fired.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Jack, it’s not your call. He’s your boss. Maybe he knows something you don’t.”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin, not about to tell her he planned to go forward with the interview the next day with Bendickson and his son.
“What about OSHA or the EPA?” Pam said. “Can’t you tell them what you know and just turn it over to them?”
“That’s just it; we aren’t there yet. We don’t have enough solid evidence.”
Pam turned away, crossed her arms, and put her head down.
“We’re so close,” he said.
It was quiet for a moment. Jack thought he heard a creak in the floor upstairs. Probably Margaret drifting about.
“Why does this mean so much to you?” Pam eyed him.
“Honey, I have no doubt in my mind, Demler-Vargus is killing people. They think they can trample on those families with no consequences. Now they’re trying to cover it up with scare tactics.”
“More than scare tactics, Jack! Spivey Brinkman is more than scared, he’s missing. The Doyles aren’t scared, they’re dead!”
He crossed to the sink and threw his napkin in the trash. “You know what?” he said. “Ever since Granger Meade came into our lives, you’ve been different. You’ve treated me differently.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You used to trust me. Anything I said or did, you got behind me. It’s not like that anymore.”
“I don’t know where this is coming from.” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a lack of trust. You think that because I haven’t forgiven Granger, I’m somehow not right with God, or that God isn’t going to have favor on us anymore.”
“Jack, I was not thinking that just now. It’s all in your head.”
“But you have thought it. You said yourself I don’t read the Bible like I used to. Let’s get it out on the table.”
“Okay, fine, let’s get it out. You know what upsets me?” Pam’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m shocked about your lack of concern for Mom and me today. That guy could’ve put us in the hospital!”
“I came back to check on you. You both seemed fine. I didn’t think it was any big deal.”
“I was trying to be strong for Mom so she wouldn’t freak out, but it scared me to death, Jack. And then you turn around and go back to work and don’t come home till now?” She threw her hands up. “You know how that makes me feel?”
“I’m sorry, Pam. You just seemed to take it so well—”
“This isn’t you, Jack. If that’d happened two years ago, you would not have left my side. Seriously. You have changed. You used to cherish me … so much.”
He looked down.
Staring at the counter.
Silence.
It was true. She was right. What had happened to him? To them?
“And if you want my opinion, yes, I really believe your unwillingness to forgive Granger is causing collateral damage. You want more proof? I’ve been trying to get five minutes alone with you for days, to do a pregnancy test with me …”
Pregnancy test?
Jack instantly felt dizzy. His ears buzzed. “You think you’re pregnant?”
Pam crossed her arms. Her bottom lip quivered, and the tears broke loose. She nodded. “We
are
pregnant.”
He reached out for her, but she kept her arms folded and didn’t turn toward him.
He was a stupid idiot! She was right.
He put his hands atop her shoulders from behind. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She dropped her head and cried.
“That’s wonderful news,” he whispered.
She flinched, as if it was too late for his attention.
Jack cursed himself.
He’d blown it again.
Chapter 22
The clock at Travis’s bedside read 4:48 a.m. He shoved the covers aside and rolled onto his back. He’d been half awake the whole night, listening for intruders, worrying about Daddy’s health, daydreaming about Claire, fretting about Demler-Vargus.
If they could just fast-forward to Thursday afternoon, 2.5 million bucks would be theirs. He and LJ could give their father everything he needed, and they could live comfortably while keeping the shop going. Travis could even provide for Claire …