Witness (47 page)

“There's no need to take the children. You don't want them,” Jeannie said. “I'm the one you want.”

“Ah, but there is a need to take the children, at least until we reach our cars. I wouldn't want you changing your mind, or any of your employees in here deciding to call the police.”

“You'll let the children go as soon as we get outside?”

“All except Missy and Justin,” Reeves said. “They'll go with us. Once I make sure we haven't been followed, I'll release Justin, somewhere you can be certain he'll be safe.”

“Don't do this. Please. No one has called the police, and Sam Dundee has no idea where I am.”

“I tend to believe you. However, I'm not a person who takes chances.” Reeves waved his gun in the air, then pointed it to the door leading to the hallway. “Shall we go?”

Jeannie watched, feeling totally helpless, as Danette and the plump middle-aged woman gathered up six children, instructing them to form a single line beside Reeves. Confused and crying, the children ran to Jeannie, completely ignoring Danette's directions. Kneeling, Jeannie touched each child, placing them in a circle around her. They reached out, laying their hands on her. She absorbed their fear and frustration, and within minutes all six children had quieted.

“Look at the witch's power!” Reeves bellowed, storming across the few feet that separated him from Jeannie. “She controls the minds of the innocent!”

He set Justin on his feet, then pulled the six children away from Jeannie. She reached for her cane, grabbing it up off the floor just as Reeves dragged her to her feet.

Turning to his two faithful helpers, Reeves motioned them toward him. “She controls these children.” He pointed at the four boys and two girls Jeannie had soothed with her touch. “They are useless to us. Take only the child you have with you, and go to your car. Wait for me outside.” He looked at Justin, who had found his way to Jeannie and was holding on to her leg. “Take his hand, and bring him with you. And don't try any of your witchcraft on him. If you do, I'll have to destroy him when I destroy you.”

“Please, don't—”

“Take his hand! Now!” Reeves screamed.

Jeannie lifted Justin's hand, grasping it firmly, then looked to Reeves for instructions.

Reeves placed his arm around her shoulders. “We'll walk into the hallway and through the school to the back door.”

Jeannie nodded her agreement. Danette and her cohort left the room, taking Missy and Amelia Carson with them. Reeves stuck his gun in Jeannie's ribs, motioning her forward. With each step she took, Jeannie prayed. The moment she exited the cafeteria and entered the corridor, she felt Sam Dundee's presence. Dear God, how had he found her? And what was he going to do? Had he called Marta? Had she been unable to hide the truth from him?

Danette and the other woman left the building, Missy and Amelia with them. Halting abruptly halfway down the long central hallway, Reeves squeezed Jeannie's shoulder.

“Wait,” he said.

Her breathing quickened. She clasped Justin's hand tightly. Whatever happened, she'd need to move at a moment's notice. If ever she had wished she could run, it was now.

“You and Justin will walk out in front of me,” Reeves told her. “Just remember that I'll be right behind you, with a gun aimed at the boy.”

Jeannie nodded, swallowed hard, squeezed Justin's hand and walked them toward the back door.

Grab Justin. Drop to the floor and roll into the open classroom on your left. Now!
She heard Sam's orders as clearly as if he'd spoken. Not hesitating, she obeyed, grabbing Justin around the waist and throwing them both onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” Reeves fired his gun, but a big hand knocked the weapon upward, and the bullet lodged in the ceiling.

“Don't move a muscle,” Sam Dundee said.

With her arms wrapped around Justin, protecting him with her body, Jeannie rolled them directly across the hall. Curling her body into a fetal position as she rolled, she tumbled them
through the open classroom door. She caught a glimpse of the female-disguised Reeves, Sam Dundee towering behind him, his Ruger pointed directly at the reverend's head.

With his free hand, Sam jerked Reeves's wig off his head. “Looks like you've been caught in the act.”

“Let me go, Dundee, or two innocent children will have to be sacrificed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam flung the wig to the floor, then thrust his big arm around Reeves's neck, bringing the man's back up against his chest.

“Ask your precious little witch,” Reeves said. “She'll tell you. Two of my disciples have potential sacrifices with them, and if I give the order to destroy these children for the greater good of the Righteous Light Church, they'll shoot them.”

“Sam?” Jeannie called out to him silently. “Danette Suddath has her daughter, Missy, but I'm not sure she wouldn't harm her. And the other woman has Amelia—”

“All right, Reeves, let's you and me go outside,” Sam said. “If what you say is true, I'll exchange you for the children.”

Reeves's maniacal laughter reverberated in the hushed stillness of the corridor. “You give me Jeannie, and I'll give you the children.”

Sam didn't hesitate before giving his reply. “No deal.”

“Jeannie, Dundee is willing to sacrifice the children to save you!” Reeves shouted. “Is that what you want?”

“Sam?” she said aloud.

“Stay where you are. Trust me to handle this,” Sam said.

Reeves taunted her. “Jeannie, I won't hesitate to sacrifice the children.”

She didn't reply. Sam gave Maynard Reeves a tight jerk, choking him momentarily, then loosed his hold and shoved him toward the back door.

“Don't try to screw around with me, you son of a bitch.” Sam growled the words in a low whisper, meaning them to be heard only by Reeves. “No one's life is more important to me
than Jeannie's. You got that? You do whatever you have to do, but if you issue an order to kill those children, I won't have any qualms about blowing your head off.”

“Jeannie? Answer me, you witch, you seed of the devil!”

Reeves struggled. Sam pressed his muscular arm into Reeve's windpipe, cutting off his oxygen. He ceased struggling and stood perfectly still.

Sam waited in the hallway for a moment, allowing Reeves to listen to the silence. “What's it going to be?” Sam asked. “Do you and two innocent children die, or do I exchange your life for theirs?”

“Let me go, and I'll send the children in when I reach my car.”

“No deal.” Sam rubbed the Ruger's barrel up and down the side of Reeves's sweaty face.

“State your terms.”

“We'll walk outside. You'll tell your disciples to release the children. As soon as they're within touching distance of me, I'll release you.”

“How do I know you'll keep your word?” Reeves asked.

“You don't. You'll just have to trust me, won't you?”

Sam walked Reeves out into the parking lot behind the school. Danette Suddath and an older woman sat inside a dark blue sedan, two children sandwiched between them in the front seat.

“Tell them to let the children out of the car,” Sam said.

“Danette. Nora. Release the children.”

Once Danette and Nora saw that their beloved reverend's life was in Sam's hands, they opened the car door and ushered the children out, telling them to go to the man with the gun. Missy clasped Amelia's hand, and the two girls walked toward Sam. The moment the girls came within his grasp, Sam shoved Reeves forward as hard as he could, then grabbed both girls up in his arms. Missy and Amelia clung to him.

Reeves ran toward his Lincoln Continental, parked beside
Danette's sedan. He started the engine, shifted the gears and roared out of the parking lot. Danette followed him quickly.

Police sirens screamed in the distance. Sam turned around and walked back toward the Howell School. Jeannie stood in the doorway, her eyes swimming with tears. Sam set the two little girls on their feet and pulled Jeannie into his arms. Within minutes the corridor had filled with children and teachers, all of them crying.

Marta rushed out of her office, dropped to her knees and embraced the children closest to her. “Thank God you didn't believe me, Mr. Dundee. I hope you understand why I couldn't risk telling you the truth when you called.”

“You saved us all, Sam.” Jeannie wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was so afraid, but I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to Missy or Amelia.”

“Don't you ever do something like this again.” He covered her mouth with his, claiming her, the kiss one of rejoicing and affirmation.

S
AM HAD BEEN
unsuccessful in persuading Jeannie to allow Marta and the teachers to care for the children. Her compassionate heart would not allow her a moment's concern for herself; her every thought was of the frightened, confused boys and girls who crowded around her, seeking comfort. And she gave them comfort, and so much more, in a way only Jeannie could. One by one, she hugged the children, absorbing their anxieties, freeing them from the trauma they had experienced.

With each child's unburdening, Jeannie grew weaker and weaker. Sam sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her, wanting desperately to give her some of his strength. The moment Marta lifted the last child out of Jeannie's arms, Jeannie turned to Sam, her eyelids drooping and her lips parting on a sigh. She tried to lift her hand to caress his worry-lined face, but she didn't possess enough strength. When she dropped her hand to her side, Sam lifted it, brought it to his lips and kissed her open palm.

“Take care of me, now, Sam.” She closed her eyes and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

With Jeannie in his arms, Sam stood and carried her out of the Howell School. Lieutenant Painter met them in the parking lot, halting Sam before he reached the Lexus.

“Is Ms. Alverson all right?”

“She will be after she gets some rest,” Sam said.

“I'll need to speak with her as soon as she's able to answer a few questions.”

“Give me a call this evening and I'll let you know.”

“Tell her that we apprehended Danette Suddath and Nora Dill. And we've put out an all-points bulletin on Maynard Reeves. He finally made a big mistake. We can throw the book at the reverend. He must have lost his mind, taking a school full of disabled children hostage.”

“Reeves is obsessed with destroying Jeannie. He's convinced himself and his followers that she really is a witch.”

“Tell Ms. Alverson that we'll get Reeves. We've set up roadblocks and are doing an all-out search.” Lieutenant Painter glanced down at Jeannie, lying in Sam's arms. “She's for real, isn't she? I mean she actually can take away other people's pain.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “She's for real.”

He walked away, carrying Jeannie to her car. He opened the door, reclined the seat and laid her down, then closed the door. He got inside, started the engine and drove out into the street. The noonday sun heated the road, creating a shimmering glare. Reaching inside his coat pocket, Sam pulled out his sunglasses and put them on.

She's for real, isn't she?
He heard Lieutenant Painter's question echoing in his mind on the drive to Julian's rented cottage. Oh, yeah, Jeannie Alverson was most definitely for real. A real angel of mercy. A real empath who considered it her sacred duty to relieve the suffering of others. A real healer of the human heart.

When they reached the cottage, Sam carried her straight inside to bed. After undressing her, he sat down on the bed and scooted up to rest his back on the headboard, then closed his eyes.

Reeves was out there somewhere, a hunted animal. He would be even more dangerous than before. Now he had nothing to lose. Sam knew what he had to do if the law didn't apprehend Reeves soon.

Reeves had finally crossed the line from mental instability to insanity. Sam had seen it in his eyes. He'd seen that look
before, in the eyes of other men, men who had completely lost their hold on reality.

Jeannie moaned in her sleep and turned over, her hands searching. Sam slumped down in the bed, took her in his arms and held her close. Cuddling against him, she returned to a restful sleep. Sam trembled as he held her, the reality of how close he'd come to losing her finally hitting him. He clung to her, stroking her back, dotting tiny kisses over her forehead and cheeks. An ache formed in the pit of his stomach and spread upward, lodging in his throat. Emotions so vast, so forceful that they threatened his sanity consumed him.

Guarding Jeannie was his first priority. Nothing was more important than keeping her safe.
Take care of me, now, Sam. Take care of me, now, Sam.
Her words replayed over and over in his mind. She had taken care of each one of the forty-five students at the Howell School, depleting her energy, putting her own physical and mental health in jeopardy. And then she had turned to him, trusting him completely, never doubting that she was safe in his hands.

He would take care of her, protect her at all costs, but the one thing from which he could not protect her was her own compassionate heart.

Laying her hand on his chest, she wrapped herself around his big body. Sam drew in a deep breath. How had this happened? How the hell had he allowed himself to become captured by a sweet innocent, by an angel whose tender mercy ruled her life? How could such purity be so sensual, such spirituality be so human, such etherealness be so totally erotic?

Six years ago, when he washed ashore on Le Bijou Bleu, Jeannie had done far more than save his life—she had taken possession of his soul. He had never been able to forget her. The sound of her voice. The feel of her comforting hands. The look in her gentle brown eyes.

He had tried to stop thinking about her, willed himself not to remember the powerful connection that existed between them,
but deep inside he'd always known that he could not escape the inevitable. Even his niece Elizabeth, when he stayed with her to recuperate from the nearly fatal gunshot wounds, had sensed he was running away from more than his guilt and remorse over Brock's and Connie's deaths. And Elizabeth, who possessed strong psychic powers, had predicted that Sam would return to Biloxi, and to the woman who had saved his life.

He had not allowed Elizabeth to tell him any more of what she'd seen in his future. He hadn't wanted to know, and he still didn't want to know. He felt unworthy, undeserving of being loved by Jeannie. Didn't she know the kind of man he was, the type of life he'd lived? Of course she knew. She even knew he'd been responsible for the death of his unborn child. And yet she loved him.

 

J
EANNIE SLEPT THE
day away, waking with a ravenous appetite for both food and Sam. He made slow, tender love to her, and she blossomed under his loving care, seeming to gain strength from their physical joining. Later he prepared hearty salads, serving them with wine and bread. They ate in the garden again, isolated from the world, nestled in their own tiny piece of paradise. After dinner, she asked him about the morning's events, and he told her everything he knew.

“Don't ever run away by yourself again, the way you did this morning,” he said. “I died a thousand deaths when I saw you drive off and knew I couldn't stop you.”

“How did you figure out where I'd gone? And how did you know Reeves was at the school?”

“I knew something Marta had said must have triggered your actions.” Tilting his head to one side, Sam rested his cheek against the top of her head. “When I phoned the school and spoke to Marta, I could tell something was wrong. She was acting strange. I put two and two together and figured Reeves was involved.”

“I know it was foolish of me to go alone to the school.”
She covered his hands, which lay across her stomach, with her own. Would Sam ever have forgiven her, or himself, if Reeves had killed her and, in doing so, destroyed their unborn child? “I couldn't let Maynard Reeves hurt the students. I did what I had to do. Please understand.”

“I understand.” He hugged her, encompassing her in his embrace, wishing he could absorb her into himself and keep her safe. “You don't have the capacity to put your needs before those of others. You give and give and give, no matter what the cost is to you.”

“You would do the same.” Tilting her face, she reached up and kissed him, wanting him to look inside himself and see the truth.

“Not me,” he said. “I'm not as strong as you are, angel. I don't have your guts. Besides, the powers that be knew I was the last person on earth who should have the ability to heal the suffering of others. I don't even know how to love.”

“That's where you're wrong. You have a great capacity to love. But before you can use that wellspring of goodness inside you, you must come to terms with all the negative feelings keeping that love trapped.”

“Oh, Jeannie you don't know me.”

“I know you better than you know yourself,” she said. “I'm a part of your soul, as you are mine.”

He had no response to her statement. Intense emotion gripped him, holding him captive. Jeannie saw the best in him, sensing a goodness he could not see. Dear God, was he worthy of the trust she placed in him? Could he be the man she thought he was, the man she expected him to be? Or would he let her down?

 

W
HEN
L
IEUTENANT
P
AINTER
arrived at eight-thirty that night, he found Sam and Jeannie watching the weather channel on television. The depression that had begun near the Cape Verde Islands, off the coast of Africa, had moved into the Caribbean
and was building up speed and intensity. A tropical storm with high winds and heavy rain was expected to hit the islands southeast of the Gulf by early morning.

“Come on in.” Sam opened the door and led the lieutenant into the living room. “Jeannie's concerned about the tropical storm headed our way. She has a close friend living on one of the islands in the gulf.”

“Yeah, I hear they think this thing has a good chance of turning into a full-fledged hurricane before she hits the coast.” Painter nodded at Jeannie when she glanced up from the television and smiled at him.

“Give me just a moment, Lieutenant,” Jeannie said. “I'd like to hear the rest of this report from the National Hurricane Center. I've already contacted my friend to make sure he's aware of the storm headed his way, but I want to stay updated on what's happening.”

“Sure. I can wait,” Painter said.

When the report ended several minutes later, Jeannie switched off the set and turned to the police officer. “Thank you for being so patient. Sam has told me that you arrested Danette Suddath and the other woman.”

“Nora Dill. Yes, we arrested them. But members of the Righteous Light Church posted bond for them, and they're out on bail until their trials.”

“Missy hasn't been given to her mother, has she?”

“No.” Sam walked over and stood behind Jeannie's chair, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Social services will place Missy in a foster home until after her mother's trial,” Lieutenant Painter said. “And she'll remain in one if—or should I say when—Danette Suddath is found guilty and sent to prison.”

“Y'all haven't found Maynard Reeves, have you?” Jeannie reached up, placing her hand atop Sam's on her shoulder.

“I swear, Ms. Alverson, it's as if the man vanished off the face of the earth.” Shrugging, Lieutenant Painter shook his
head. “The best we can figure it, he must have left Biloxi by boat. Since his church is headquartered in New Orleans, the authorities there have been alerted. The feds have pretty well taken over this case, but we're working with them.”

“Too bad someone in his organization isn't willing to turn him in,” Sam said. “It amazes me how gullible some people are.”

“None of his followers will betray him.” Jeannie patted Sam's hand. “People want to believe in something, in a higher power, and that's why they can sometimes be brainwashed by a charismatic leader like Reverend Reeves. He feeds on their fears and prejudices, teaching them hatred and intolerance.”

“I want you to know, Ms. Alverson, that we've posted a man at the hospital to guard Dr. Howell, and one at the school to make sure the children are safe. And even though you're well taken care of—” Rufus Painter glanced at Sam “—we're sending a patrol around the block here every hour.”

Jeannie clasped Lieutenant Painter's hand. “Thank you for all you've done.”

Painter grinned; it was a lopsided, boyish grin. “Yes, ma'am. You're entirely welcome. Just wish we could have done more.”

“I believe we have some business to take care of, don't we, Lieutenant?” Jeannie asked.

Flushing, Painter cleared his throat. “Yes, ma'am, we do. I've got someone outside ready to take your statement concerning the events at the Howell School this morning.”

“Are you sure you're up to this?” Sam moved around to the side of her chair, placing his hand on her arm.

“Yes,” she said. “I have to do all that I can to help remove Maynard Reeves from society, to put him away where he can't harm anyone.”

After the police left, Jeannie tuned in the weather channel for an update on the tropical storm, then contacted Manton again before she and Sam went to bed.

As they lay together, the room dark and quiet except for the moonlight filtering through the curtains and the hum of traffic a few blocks away on the highway, Sam held Jeannie in his arms.

“Stop worrying,” Sam said. “You told me Manton has weathered storms, and even a few hurricanes, on Le Bijou Bleu.”

“I know. But I can't help worrying.” Jeannie kissed Sam's naked shoulder. “He's assured me the storm shelter is stocked with the basic necessities to last several days.”

“Manton will be all right. The man has a sixth sense about things. If the storm hits the island, he'll wait it out in the storm shelter.”

“Sam?” She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked down into his blue-gray eyes.

“What is it, angel?” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, from shoulder to wrist.

“I have an uneasy feeling I can't explain. I'm afraid, Sam. I'm so very, very afraid.”

He enclosed her in the strength and safety of his arms, lowering her head to the pillow and kissing her eyelids closed. “Julian suffered a heart attack, the students and staff of the Howell School were held captive, a tropical storm is probably going to hit Le Bijou Bleu while Manton's there alone, and Maynard Reeves is out there somewhere plotting your destruction. I'd say something would be wrong with you if you weren't feeling uneasy and if you weren't scared half out of your mind.”