What Lies Within (18 page)

“I think
gey gezunterheyt
.”

Rafe fixed him with a hard stare. “Sarcasm? You’re giving me sarcasm?”

Fredrik shrugged, fighting a grin. “What sarcasm? Go in health, I tell you. This is sarcasm?”

Rafe jerked open the door. “You know as well as I do that’s
not
what you said.” An upheld hand stilled Fredrik’s protest. “Okay, fine. Those are the words you spoke, but the true meaning of those words? Sarcasm.”

The grin finally escaped. He’d taught the boy too well. Fredrik shuffled
toward the man hovering in his doorway, then patted one strong arm. “You’re a good boy, Rafael. God will speak to you, and you will obey. This I know.”

Rafe threw a glance to the heavens. “You’re crazy, my friend. Just do me a favor. Don’t let this mishegas get you killed.”

Fredrik just laughed. “What’s foolishness to you is obedience to me. Now go home. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we have things to do.”

He closed the door on Rafe’s protest. From the sounds on the other side of the door, Rafe was telling Fredrik what he thought of him, which only made him laugh more. Chuckling, he made his way back to his phone, lifted the receiver, and punched in the number. As the phone rang, gratitude filled the prayers flowing through his mind and heart.

God was good.

And He was about to make things
truly
interesting.

SEVENTEEN   

T
he jangle of the phone jerked Kyla from the warm folds of sleep. She groaned at the interruption. She’d been with him. Sitting. Talking. Letting herself get lost in the rich, sweet coffee he’d made, lost in those warm, welcoming eyes.

But the phone gave no quarter, and she finally pulled clear of the hypnotic dream.

Blinking to sluggish awareness in the dark room, she flung out a hand, seeking the offending sound. Her fingers curled around the receiver and she punched the Talk button and pressed it to her ear, even as her free hand stroked the kitten that was now wide awake and demanding her attention.

Her first attempt at
hello
came out as a groggy croak, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “H’lo?”

“Miss Justice?”

Even as her brain registered that the voice was masculine, her eyes fought to focus on the time projected on the ceiling of her room. 3:15. In the a.m.! Normally she’d just hang up on a male caller this time of night … morning
 … whatever. But something stopped her. This didn’t sound like a masher or bored teenager.

“Yes?” Good, her voice was gaining strength.

“I don’t know if you remember me—”

Kyla pushed to a sitting position, and Serendipity immediately hopped into her lap, turning circles before curling into a tight ball.

Fingers stroking the soft fur, Kyla frowned. At first she’d thought her caller was her age, but now she detected a slight tremor in the deep, calm tones. And an accent. One that stirred her memory …

“—but this is Fredrik Tischler. I knew your father. And you.”

“Fredrik.” Her brain clicked into search mode, pushing the last fog of sleep away and drawing out memories long forgotten: a smiling man who always brought her licorice when he came to see her father. A man whose eyes were as gentle as they were piercing. Who saw her heart from their first meeting. Who delighted in teaching her bits and pieces of Yiddish.

A man who accepted her for who she was.

Recognition shifted, then fell into place, eliciting a broad smile. “Uncle Ki!”

The chuckle was as deep and jovial as she remembered. “So you do remember me?”

Kyla opened her palm against the kitten’s rumbling side—she loved it when Serendipity’s purr got going like that—and cradled the receiver against her shoulder. “I remember asking Daddy once if God was as tall as you were.”

“And I remember your awe when he told you God was even taller.”

The giggle surprised her, but it felt good. How long had it been since she’d laughed this way, in sheer delight?

Too long.

“It’s wonderful to hear from you, Uncle Ki.”

“I’m sorry I’m calling so late—”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” And, surprisingly enough, it was.

“But, my dear, I have a rather large favor to ask of you.”

The suddenly serious tenor of his words gave her pause, but only for a moment. This was Uncle Ki. “Name it.”

He started to explain, and Kyla did her best to just listen, not react. But
she must have given her uncertainty away somehow, because in the middle of a sentence Fredrik stopped.

“Uncle Ki?”

A weighted sigh drifted across the lines. “You don’t think it can be done, do you?”

She leaned back against the headboard. How to let him down easy? “That’s hard to say without seeing the building—”

“Then let me show you.”

Kyla bit her lip. “I don’t know …”

“Please. I realize this is an imposition, but won’t you meet me? Tomorrow—no, I guess it would be today.”

Chagrin infused his realization, but Kyla just smiled. The least she could do was let him show her his dream. Dad would want her to do that much for such a dear friend of his. “Where and when?”

“Blessed Hope Fellowship Church, the corner of northeast 92nd and northeast Alberta. Say nine o’clock?”

Nine a.m. Well, she’d get six hours of sleep, anyway. “I’ll see you then.”

“Thank you. And
bubele?
”

“Yes?”

“Be ready. God is doing something wonderful.”

EIGHTEEN   

F
redrik
had
to be kidding.

God was going to do something wonderful? Here?

Only if He were totally, completely lost.

She’d lain in bed, thinking over Fredrik’s phone call, unable to sleep. A too-frequent occurrence anymore. Finally, when she’d stared at the ceiling for an hour, she got up, threw on some clothes, and grabbed her purse.

It couldn’t hurt to check the place out before her meeting with Fredrik in a few hours.

When Fredrik recited the address over the phone, she’d had a vague idea that the area wasn’t exactly the best in the city.

What she saw before her gave
understatement
a whole new meaning.

Block after block of run-down homes sporting boarded-up windows and an assortment of graffiti had escorted her to Fredrik’s building. Now, sitting in her car beneath a pale, flickering streetlight, she checked the door locks once more as she peered out the window.

Cars that looked either abandoned or like they were on their last spark plug spotted the street on either side. Several had windows broken out, one had the bumper wired in place. And though she couldn’t see anyone around her, she could swear she was being watched. Like a hapless rabbit that took a woefully wrong turn and hopped into a pack of hungry coyotes.

The idea sent prickles creeping up the back of her neck.

She pushed against the car seat, scrunching down a fraction. Times like this she envied her sister’s height. True, Annot’s five foot five wasn’t technically petite, but it only missed the official designation by an inch. Either way, it was far easier to disappear when you were five foot five than when you topped five-eight.

And if there was one thing Kyla wanted to do right now, it was disappear.
So go. No one’s holding you here
.

Her fingers played with the car remote, dangled the ignition key. Temptation twitched her fingers, coaxing them to slip the key into the ignition, give it a quick turn, and drive away.

Just a minute more.

Are you looking to get mugged?

Kyla shook the silly thought away. She was locked inside her car. Besides, there wasn’t anyone around but her. Not that she could see, anyway …

Shivers skittered across her skin again as she peered, from her hunkered-down position, over the lower edge of the driver’s side window. Someone was out there. She could
feel
it.

Oh, stop it. You’re getting as fanciful as your sister
.

Kyla pursed her lips. Maybe so. Still, scanning the area, one word kept creeping into her mind, over and over.

Dark.

Not just the-sun-has-set-and-it’s-nighttime dark. But heavy, oppressive dark. Bad-things-lurking-in-the-shadows dark. Don’t-go-there-alone dar—

Blaat! Blaat! Blaat!

Kyla jumped so fast and hard she slammed her elbow into the car door. Holding back the irritation perched on her lips, she grabbed at the remote and punched the panic button off. The piercing car alarm gave way to blessed silence.

She stared down at the offending remote, lip curling. Stupid contraption. As if she weren’t doing a good enough job of freaking herself out. One bit of pressure in the wrong spot and wham! You deafened not only yourself, but anyone within a five-mile radius.

She slipped the remote and key back into her purse, where her nervous fingers couldn’t get to it, then glanced at her watch. She really should go home. Try to sleep. And she would. Any minute now …

Her gaze drifted to the darkened street.

She’d go home. Right after she saw exactly what she was up against.

NINETEEN   

K
ing K leaned against a concrete wall, where the shadows cloaked him, watching. And wondering.

The woman had been sitting there for fifteen minutes. Maybe more. She kept swiveling her head to look around the street, like she was scared out of her mind.

And so she should be.

She was on 22 turf. In the middle of the night. This was one gutsy woman. Either that or stupid. Really stupid. Whatever her story, she’d better stay in that nice car of hers. He’d hate to hurt her, but he’d do it. Couldn’t let her just get by with comin’ out here like she owned the place. Couldn’t take the chance. Never knew who was watchin’.

He let out a silent laugh. That’d be a good tip for this woman: “Watch your step ’cuz you never know who’s watchin’.” Yeah, she should keep that in mind.

If she was lucky, he wouldn’t be the one to tell her so.

With a flick of the wrist Kyla unlocked and opened the car door, stepping out into the street.
Okay. Just wait a minute. Listen before you leap
.