Vicious Cycle (8 page)

“I can turn them on myself using the radio microphone key. I checked in advance in the Airport Facilities Directory, and if I press the key four times for that airport, the lights will come on. Piece of cake. We’ll be fine.”

Adjusting his headset, Kent looked out the window. He couldn’t see the usual landmarks, like rivers. But he could see the lights along the highways. “You sure you know how to get there?”

“Got the GPS,” Blake said into his mike. “It’ll take us right there. Probably take about five and a half hours.”

Kent raised an eyebrow. “Why? Flying commercially, it’s only about an hour and a half.”

“Yeah—flying a big jet at 30,000 feet. But in this thing, flying at about 4,500 feet at 120 miles an hour, it takes a while. It’s 533 miles by air, and we’ll have to stop once to refuel. We’ll probably be there about eleven thirty. So what did Barbara say when she found out the cavalry is coming?”

Kent had told Blake all about his feelings for Barbara. It was because of her influence that he’d found a church and gotten involved in the men’s group where he’d met Blake. Now the guy was his racquetball partner and one of his closest friends. “She sounded relieved that I was coming to help her. I don’t have any clout with the police department there. But there are some things I can offer. At least she won’t be alone.”

“I think this is a God thing.”

Kent looked at him. “How do you figure that?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity to take things to a deeper level with her. An answered prayer.”

Kent hoped that was true, that God was intervening and
fueling this relationship. Despite his visits to Jefferson City, he hadn’t been able to move things along on his own. “I know you won’t believe this, but I’m not doing this to seize the opportunity. I’m seriously concerned about Lance.”

“He’ll be okay.”

“I’m not so sure. A kidnapping charge? That’s pretty serious.”

“Well, when we get there I’ll text all the guys and get them to pray.”

At nine o’clock, they landed in Jackson, Tennessee, to refuel, and Kent got out of the plane to stretch and use the bathroom. Before he got back in, he called Barbara.

“Kent?” Her voice was anxious. “Are you here already?”

“No, only halfway. I’m hoping to be there by eleven thirty or so. Can you pick us up?”

“Of course. Kent, they’re keeping Lance tonight. I talked to the judge but I don’t think he’ll let him out. We’re going to have to wait until Monday unless I can get Jordan to drop the charges.”

“He’ll be okay, Barbara.”

“No, he won’t! He’s just a kid, and he’ll be in there with dopers and criminals.” He winced at the pain in her voice. “What was he thinking? Taking the car, finding a baby, and keeping it? He didn’t even call me. He should have taken it straight to the police.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m at the police station, but I’m thinking of going to Jordan’s. I’ve got to talk some sense into that girl.”

“Barbara, no! Wait until I get there.”

“I can’t! It’ll be too late then to show up at her house. But if I can find her there now and let her know that Lance, who’s supposed to be her friend, is in jail because of her — maybe she’ll tell the truth.”

“Is there anybody you can take with you?”

“No, I don’t have time to find anybody.”

“Then get the police to go with you.”

“I’ve already asked. They said they already have her statement. It’s Saturday night, Kent. Nobody wants to go to a lot of trouble.”

“Then get your attorney to go with you. Is he still at the station?”

She sighed. “Yes, he’s just about to go into the interview with Lance.”

“Then after he’s done there, take him with you, Barbara. Promise me.”

He heard muffled voices, then she came back to the phone. “Okay, Gus said he’d go with me.”

“Great.” He checked the plane—the refueling truck was driving away, and Blake was climbing back in. “Just be careful. We’re about to take off again. I’ll try to text you from the air when we’re about thirty minutes out. We’re landing at Garrison Airport.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hung up, feeling that tug on his heart that he always felt when he spoke to her. As they took off again, he prayed that God would go with her and Gus, surrounding her with protection. Jordan had to tell the truth about Lance. Otherwise, this would be a colossal mess, and he didn’t know how they would get Lance out of it. He’d been found with the baby, after all. On paper, that didn’t look good.

L
ance was relieved when they brought him out of the holding cell and took him back to the interview room. Gus Thompson, an attorney who’d once coached Lance in the church basketball league, stood waiting for him with his hands in his pockets.

“Lance, how’s it going, buddy?” Gus shook his hand like they were greeting each other at Sunday school.

“Terrible,” Lance said, aware of the heat on his cheeks. “They think I kidnapped a baby!”

Gus shushed him until the guard had left them alone. “Okay, sit down and tell me everything. From the very beginning. Starting with how you know Jordan Rhodes.”

Lance spilled it all out, and when he finished, Gus folded his hands on the table. “Okay, Lance, all this seems
like it should be relatively easy to prove. I’ll be here during the interrogation, but be careful how you tell the story. Don’t say anything that might lead them to think that you felt the baby would be better off if it was removed from the home.”

“I may already have.”

“What did you say?”

“I told them about the chaos there, and the detective started putting words in my mouth, like I was saying that I wanted to take the baby away from all that. But that never even crossed my mind. I knew I couldn’t take that baby. I didn’t even see it before I found it in my car.”

“All right, don’t panic. Just answer them slowly, and think before you speak. Remember that anything you say can be misinterpreted. I’ll stop you if I think you’re not being clear or if they’re taking it down the wrong track.”

“Okay, but do you think they’ll believe me?”

“It doesn’t really matter at this point, as long as the girl claims you kidnapped the baby.”

Lance grunted. “Then somebody should go talk to her. I know her mother made her say that. If they could get her alone, she’d tell the truth.”

“I’ll try to get the police to do that. But they’re not obligated. If they won’t go, your mom and I will.”

“But am I going to have to stay in jail?”

“Probably, in the detention center. Just until Monday, or until Jordan clears things up.”

“Two nights in jail with a bunch of criminals? I can’t do that!”

Gus patted Lance’s cold hands. “It may not come to that, Lance. Don’t panic yet.”

“But I shouldn’t have to go to jail for something I didn’t do!”

“I know, Lance, and it isn’t over yet. Just know I’m going to do my best to get you released tonight.”

But as the detective came back in, Lance realized the truth. His life was in the hands of a meth addict.

T
hey weren’t going to release Lance. Barbara had already concluded that they didn’t care about her tears or her pleading, and they didn’t care whether Lance was innocent. It all boiled down to the unreliable statement of a known methamphetamine addict who hadn’t even been sane enough to get to the hospital to have her baby.

Two nights in juvenile detention would seem like an eternity to Lance. And it could even be longer. If Jordan didn’t back down from her statement, he could go to prison.

But Barbara couldn’t let her mind go there. Jordan had to back down. Barbara would convince her.

When she watched them load Lance, handcuffed, into the van to transport him to juvenile detention, she stood on the dark sidewalk in a daze.

Gus touched her shoulder. “Barbara, he’ll be okay.”

She ignored his reassurance. “Gus, can we go to Jordan’s now?”

Gus hesitated. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You and Lance have both said it’s a violent and wild place where everybody uses drugs. How far do you expect to get with people like that?”

“If Jordan changes her story, Lance can get out tonight.”

He sighed. “All right, but I have to tie up some loose ends inside. Go home, and I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

She headed home and went into the dark, empty house. She went back to Lance’s room, saw the bag of diapers on his bed, the masking tape, the bottle.

The truth was, he’d tried to take care of the child. He should have come to her, yes. He should have called the police the moment he found the baby. But he’d been trying to do what was right for the child and for Jordan. After watching his sister suffer, he felt compassion for those in her shoes, and he’d thought he could help Jordan.

God, what are You doing?

She sat down on Lance’s bed, rubbing her face. Lance shouldn’t have borrowed the car and driven without a license. He shouldn’t have gone to the house of an active drug user. He shouldn’t have argued with her mother.

And when he’d found the baby …

But
shouldn’ts
wouldn’t get them anywhere now. The girl who’d gotten Lance into this mess was the only one who could get him out.

Even in her selfishness, even in her fogged thinking, maybe Jordan would care enough about Lance to change her story.

Barbara didn’t even know where Jordan lived, and her phone book wasn’t where she’d last left it. She racked her
brain for the girl’s last name, but if she’d ever known it, she’d forgotten. Her mother was Maureen. But Maureen what?

Emily would know. Barbara grabbed the phone, dialed New Day.

“New Day. This is Tia.” Tia was the night counselor whom Barbara barely knew.

“Tia, this is Emily Covington’s mother, Barbara. I need to speak to my daughter.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s used up her phone calls for the day. Besides, the girls aren’t allowed to take calls after eight.”

“Tia, this is a family emergency. If you don’t let me talk to her, I’m going to have to come there.”

She hesitated. “All right, if it’s an emergency. I’ll go get her.”

Barbara breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes as she waited. After several moments, Emily came to the phone.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Lance has been arrested.”

“What?”

When Barbara was finished explaining, Emily said, “That dork drove my car?”

Barbara wanted to scream. “Emily, is that really the worst thing you heard me say?”

“No, I’m just saying, if he hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened.”

“I need Jordan’s last name and her address or phone number.”

“I don’t know her address, but her last name is Rhodes.” She spelled it. “Mom, did they really put him in Juvie?”

“Yes. Pray for him. Get everyone there to pray.”

“We will. Mom, Jordan’s in deep trouble with her addictions, but she does have a heart. I really think if you talk to
her she’ll change her story. Her mother is horrible, and she probably made her say that.”

“But why? Why would Maureen do that? It’s not as if she cares about the baby—she didn’t even get Jordan to the hospital when she was in labor. Even after the baby was born addicted to meth, she didn’t get her to a doctor to see if she was all right.”

“It’s probably a control thing. She’s the reason Jordan’s addicted in the first place. But if Jordan does give the baby up for adoption, the counselors said she can come back here. She’d have to start over from the beginning, but she needs that.”

“I’ll tell her, if I can find her,” Barbara said.

She hung up and changed clothes. Her feet were killing her in these heels, and she’d been wearing this dress all day. She put on a pair of jeans and tennis shoes and waited.

When Gus finally called, she told him she’d pick him up at the police station. Pulling out of the driveway, she prayed that God would help them find Jordan at home. The girl was their only hope.

T
he porch light was on when Barbara and Gus pulled up to the Rhodes house, and bugs flew around it. The yard was neglected, the grass a foot tall where it grew at all, and the house looked like it needed a coat of paint and some repairs.

Her heart sank as she thought of Lance coming here alone today. What was he thinking?

“Barbara, if they give us trouble, we leave. No fighting. We’re not dealing with rational people here.”

She agreed.

The porch looked rotten and unsteady. Stepping up onto it, she knocked on the door. Gus stood on the rickety steps behind her.

The door squeaked open, and Maureen peered through the screen door with red, bloodshot eyes. “What do you want?”

Barbara had met her a time or two on visitation days at the treatment center. They’d never exchanged more than a passing greeting, so she wasn’t sure the woman would recognize her. “Maureen, hi, I’m Emily and Lance’s mother.”

Maureen narrowed her eyes. “I know who you are.”

“I need to talk to Jordan.”

“She ain’t here. She went out.”

Barbara doubted that—the girl had just given birth. “Maureen, we really need to talk to her. My son is in jail tonight.”

“Where he should be.” Maureen looked past her to Gus. “Who are you?”

“Gus Thompson.” He stepped forward and reached his hand out to shake. But Maureen didn’t open the screen door to take it. “I’m Lance’s attorney.”

Barbara hoped the authority in his voice would get some results. But Maureen just laughed. “He’s gonna need one.”

“Maureen,” Barbara said, “you know Lance didn’t do anything like what Jordan claims. She put that baby in his car. This is all just a huge misunderstanding, and we can clear it up very easily.”

“I told you, she ain’t here.”

Barbara concentrated on softening her voice. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know, probably with some of her no-account friends.”

“She just had a baby. She shouldn’t be hanging out with her friends. She should be in a hospital.”

“Don’t tell me what my daughter should be doing. Worry about your own reprobate kids.”

Barbara drew in a long breath. “I do, Maureen. That’s why one of them has been in treatment for a year. And I
worry about my son. Why would she say that he kidnapped the baby? You were here. You know that isn’t true.”