WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 10
The night felt heavy and oppressive as Chandler sat at his desk in the office and made up the time he’d taken to help Tiffany. He couldn’t fall behind on the cases and veterans assigned to him. That wasn’t fair to them, so he’d burn the midnight oil to catch up. He grabbed the next file from the leaning tower perched on the corner and opened it.
Seaman First Class Jordan Otley. He’d gotten involved in some drugs while on a tour and needed help to break free. It hadn’t led to a court martial yet, but it would if the young man didn’t act quickly. Chandler jotted a few notes on a Post-it note and closed the file. He’d set up a time for the sailor to come in and get him connected with resources. Help him see he wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last seaman to succumb while away from home. Depending on how that conversation went, Chandler might get his commanding officer involved, but he hoped to avoid that or to help the young man initiate that conversation on his own. What Seaman Otley chose to do now would determine his future.
The next file contained a story of a mom struggling to reconnect with her kids. There were ways to help facilitate reattachment. She might need a few services, but he could fix this.
It felt good to tick through a list of challenges and know he had solutions.
These files were different from Tiffany’s. No matter what he did, he could not make her abuse go way. That was something that could be addressed but not removed. He prayed God would touch her heart at the most painful levels and that he’d have wisdom to know how to provide the support the child needed without usurping her mother’s important role. Over time she was the one who would have to help Tiffany the most.
He leaned back and rubbed his face. How could he navigate this space? Father, I need You to show me what to do. Would You restrain me from doing too much? Help me to obey Your prompting without overstepping my position and pretending I can do what only You can do.
That was the rub.
It was easy to focus on the fix rather than on Who did the fixing.
His work cell phone buzzed on the desk and he glanced at it. A text from an unidentified number? This would be good. He rolled his eyes as he flicked a finger on the screen and pulled up the message.
Did you enjoy your tandoori chicken? It might be your last.
What kind of message was that? He took a screenshot to preserve the information, then tried to figure out a way around the blocked number. Nothing. He’d have to leave that to the techie geniuses.
His phone rang and he glanced at the screen. Jaime? Why was she calling?
“This is Bolton.”
“Every time you say that I think of Michael Bolton.” Jaime’s voice had a hoarse edge to it that grabbed his attention like a hand to the throat.
“You’re dating yourself.”
“Not me. My mom listened to his music.”
“Sure she did.” He leaned back and glanced at the ceiling. “What’s up?”
“I’m hiding in a McDonald’s, too scared to go to my car.”
He popped out of his chair. “What? Why?”
“I may have been followed, but I’m probably imagining it.” She took a breath.
“Which McDonald’s?” He was already reaching for his jacket and keys.
“I’m not even sure. I was driving home when I saw this vehicle following me.” She laughed, but it was a hollowed-out sound. “You must think I’m nuts.”
“No.” Never that. She was too strong to let an unfounded fear take over. “Turn on your phone’s map app and drop a pin of your location; then send it to me. I’m headed to my car now.” He glanced at the remaining files. They’d be there in the morning.
Chandler hung up and headed to his truck. As he unlocked the door, his phone vibrated, and he looked at the screen and frowned.
His phone rang again, and the moment he answered, Jaime asked, “Did you get my location?”
“Looks like you’re past Falls Church.”
“I guess I got rattled.”
“Must have.” She’d traveled the opposite direction of their apartment complex. He slid into the car and turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” If traffic cooperated. “Don’t move, and if you get concerned, call the police.”
“Yes sir.” There was a bite to her words that made him wonder if she’d mock saluted him. Good, that meant her spunk was back.
“See you soon.”
When he pulled into the well-lit parking lot, he could see Jaime sitting by a table near the front door, hunched over a large Styrofoam cup as if it was holding her together. This was not the strong woman she had presented in court that morning. Instead, this was the scared, broken woman he’d seen in the law firm’s parking lot.
He went to the counter first, then slid into the booth and pushed a tray with a large order of fries across the table to her.
“How did you know I haven’t eaten?”
“I took a wild guess.” He purposefully relaxed his shoulders as he sank onto the booth. “Besides, there’s always room for fries.”
She nodded and took one but didn’t eat it. “I think I blacked out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember how I drove here.”
“Like I’ve-driven-the-route-so-often-I’m-not-sure-which-way-I-came?”
“The kind a grown-up who was abused as a kid experiences.”
He felt the world shift beneath his feet. “Do you usually lead with that?” He kept his words light and, he hoped, unthreatening.
“No, only with the people who don’t know what they’re getting into.” Her eyes were hooded and her shoulders squared as if she expected him to leave her sitting there. “But then you do, since you were at court this morning.”
He settled more firmly into the booth. There was no way he was leaving, not when he sensed others had. “I wanted to be there. It was important.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Even now?”
Her question pinged through him, an echo of times the answer had been no reverberating between them. “Yes, even now.” He swallowed hard, then took a swig of Coke.
Her jaw squared and she leaned forward. “Ground rule. You can’t fix this. It simply is, so turn off your male, fix-the-world mentality.”
“I can try, but . . .” He ran his hands in front of his chest. “I’m all guy.”
A faint color climbed her throat. Interesting. Maybe she wasn’t quite the ice queen she liked to portray.
“Yeah.”
Silence fell, the tension-filled kind, but he forced himself to stay quiet. If she wanted to lead this conversation, he’d let her. Maybe it made her feel safer. He could understand that.
“As you saw this morning, I’m going after my abuser in a public way, and he’ll fight back. But not always in an obvious way. But maybe I’m paranoid.”
“I doubt that.”
“All I know for sure is that the stress of finally trying to expose who he is has pulled everything back to the top of my mind.”
“And the blackouts?”
“They’re becoming more frequent.” She swallowed hard as her fingers clutched the cup so hard she might crush it. “I’m scared.”
He could see what that admission cost her, and chose his words carefully. “What would you like me to do?”
“Drive me home. Have a buddy help you get my car to the apartment. I’ll take tomorrow to recuperate and then see what happens.”
He nodded. “I can do that.” Her shoulders relaxed, and he felt her exhale. “We’ve all got pain, Jaime.”
“Your pain and mine aren’t the same.”
“Agreed. But my divorce rocked my world. A key difference is I was an adult when it happened. But I believe that even on the darkest days there is hope. Sometimes I have to look harder. I have a favor to ask . . .” She started to close, and he held up a hand. “I want you to call me immediately the next time you feel threatened. No matter the time of day or night, I’ll come.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can.” As far as he was concerned, she’d acquired a shadow—the friendly kind. “I have something to wrap up tomorrow at work, then I’ll take some vacation time until you feel safe again.”
“I can’t let you do that, Chandler. You barely know me, and I can take care of myself. I’ve done it for years.”
And he could see in the shadows haunting her eyes how it had worn her down. He couldn’t do anything about the past, but he would do all he could to protect her from future harm.
The more she revealed, the more he knew he wanted to learn as much of her story as she’d share, and see what made her the strong woman he saw even now.