13

 

After she’d helped carry the grocery bags into the kitchen, Nila shrugged out of her coat. As she hung it up, her hand brushed the pocket holding the crumpled napkin. She seemed to hear an echo of Lydia’s words, Remember, dear, that the truth will set you free.

But what was truth? She’d thought she knew, but now everything was mixed up. How could she tell anyone the truth if it put them in danger?

She shut the closet door and leaned against it, eyes closed. She wanted to obey God. But she couldn’t forgive Nick. The pain went too deep. But she still needed her Savior. Was He there?

“Jesus, speak to me, please,” she whispered.

Silence. Dead silence.

She straightened her shoulders and went to the kitchen. Her smile felt so plastic she was afraid it would crack.

Lydia seemed even more cheerful than usual as she beat cream cheese, eggs, and sugar for cheesecake bites.

“Dave loves these,” she said with a wide smile. “I only make them at Christmas. They’re really rich. But I enjoy spoiling my man now and then. How are you doing with those sugar cookies?”

Nila had pressed so hard on the rolling pin, her cookie dough appeared translucent.

“Looks like you’re making diet cookies.” Lydia noticed. “Is everything OK?”

Nila bit her lower lip. “Sorry. I guess I pressed too hard.”

“That’s all right. Just smush it up and roll it out again. The kids only care about the icing, anyway.” Lydia shut off the mixer, moved closer to Nila, and patted her arm. “Just relax, honey. You’re doing fine.”

Tears held back too long slipped past her eyelids and dripped onto the cookie dough. Nila sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, but once started, nothing could dam the flood. “I—I’m sorry.” She leaned against the counter, her back to Lydia.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, and I wish you would tell me why. I don’t know what you’re so sorry about. We love you no matter what. Remember?”

Lydia’s soft voice generated more tears.

Nila sank to the floor, sobbing. “I—I want to tell you, but he’ll hurt you.”

Lydia knelt beside Nila and stroked her back. “What do you want to tell us, honey? No one is going to hurt us.”

Nila turned and looked at Lydia with tear-filled eyes “Yes, he will. I know him. He already slashed the tires on Daniel’s truck. He’s watching.” Fear raised the decibels of her voice. “He knows. Everything. He knows.”

Dave entered the kitchen, and his bushy eyebrows lifted when he saw both women on the floor. “What’s going on? Anything I can do to help?”

Lydia gestured him to come closer. “We need to go to the living room and have a talk. Could you help Nila up?” She rubbed Nila’s shoulder once more and stood. “Is that OK?”

Nila nodded and reached for her pastor’s hand.

Dave and Lydia each took one of Nila’s arms and led her to the couch. Lydia sat beside her, and Dave sat across from them in the rocker.

For several heartbeats, the only sounds were Nila’s muffled sobs and the creak of the rocker.

Lydia spoke first. “Now, sweetheart, I think it’s time for the truth. Are you ready?”

Nila shuddered and nodded slowly. “I think so, but I’m afraid.” She looked from Dave to Lydia, her eyes wide. “What if he carries out his threats? It’ll be my fault. Just like he said.”

Dave cleared his throat. “What has Nick done? How has he threatened you? This is about him, isn’t it?”

Another nod. She took a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. Was she doing the right thing? Or would she regret it forever? But if God didn’t care enough to guard them, nothing mattered anyway.

“Nick was released from jail the day of Daniel and Melody’s wedding. He texted me that if I told, he’d hurt everyone I care about.”

Silence.

Nila looked up.

Dave’s eyes were closed, and Lydia’s were wide, her hand over her heart.

“No wonder you’ve been so troubled,” Lydia said. “We need to pray together.”

Dave opened his eyes. “And then we need to phone the police. He can’t be allowed to get away with this.”

The older couple bowed their heads, and Nila followed their example.

After her friends prayed for her peace and safety—and justice for Nick—Nila whispered her own prayer for protection over everyone in her life.

Dave went to make his phone call.

Nila snuggled into Lydia’s hug. “I’m still scared, but I know God heard your prayers. I don’t think He heard mine, though.”

Lydia stiffened but kept her arms around Nila. “Why do you say that?”

“Jesus said if we don’t forgive, we won’t be forgiven. And I can’t forgive Nick.” She reached for another tissue as her tears soaked into Lydia’s sweater. “He’s so full of hate. He’s evil.”

“Nila, look at me.”

Nila lifted her anguished face.

“Forgiveness doesn’t mean agreeing with what was done or saying it was OK. Forgiveness means stepping out of the judge’s chair, releasing yourself from the situation. Give it to God, dear one. Give Nick, his actions, and his threats to God Almighty. Let Him be the judge.”

Nila released a long, slow breath. “That’s a lot like what Will said. I can’t really protect anyone, can I? No matter how hard I try. But God can.” She wiped her eyes and sat up straighter. “I thought forgiving meant saying everything was fine. But I can give Nick to God. I sure don’t want him.” Another shuddering sigh. “I’ll try to remember that God is in control, not me. And not Nick.”

Dave returned, and his frown changed to a big smile. “That’s my girl.” He reclaimed the rocker, and his smile dimmed. “A couple officers are coming over to talk to you, Nila. Make sure you tell them everything. Do you have the messages Nick sent?”

Nila squirmed and bit her lower lip. “I smashed my phone. But I remember what the texts said.”

Dave rubbed his chin. “That may be a problem. But we can vouch for you. Don’t worry.”

She shivered as she remembered. “I do have the package he sent.”

“A package?”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “You mean that present on our porch was from Nick?”

Nila nodded. “I guess it’s good that I kept it.”

“Go get it, dear. The police will need to see that.”

Nila started toward the stairs, but the entry closet drew her to it. As though on autopilot, she reached into her coat pocket and retrieved the crumpled napkin.

She didn’t look at it until she’d sat at her desk and opened her Bible to Psalm 10. The foreboding verses she’d read days ago jumped out at her again. She closed her eyes against despair. It just didn’t make sense. After a quick prayer for mercy, Nila smoothed out the coffee shop napkin.

She seemed to hear Deborah’s voice. “A message for you.” The ink was blurred from being scrunched, but the words were still legible: Psalm 10:14-15.

She read the verses aloud.

“But You, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to You; You are the helper of the fatherless.

Break the arm of the wicked and evil man; call him to account for his wickedness that would not be found out.”

Nila sat back in her chair, stunned. “Why didn’t I keep reading? All this time I thought God didn’t care, but I’m right there in his word, the victim and the fatherless.” She leaned forward to read the words again slowly and breathe each promise into her soul. At last, joy broke through. “He knows. And He cares. God knows exactly what Nick is doing.” She raised her face and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Father.”

She went to her closet, retrieved Nick’s dreadful gift, and rejoined Dave and Lydia.

 

****

 

An hour later, the doorbell rang, and Dave opened the door.

Two grim-faced police officers entered at his gesture of welcome.

“Thanks for coming. I’m Dave Harris, and this is my wife, Lydia. The young lady is Nila Black, the one who received the threats I phoned about.”

The taller officer shook Dave’s hand. “I’m Constable Roth, and this is Constable Kruger. You said Ms. Black received threats from a parolee? Mr. Nicholas Parnell?”

“Yes. May I take your coats? Please have a seat. Nila can tell you about it.”

Constable Roth sat on the loveseat facing Nila, and Constable Kruger stood off to the side just out of Nila’s view.

Roth opened a notebook and readied his pen. “All right, Ms. Black…may I call you Nila?” She nodded, and he continued. “When did these threats begin?”

She trembled as she told them about Nick’s appearance at the wedding reception, the text messages, and the parcel left on the porch.

“Do you have these messages and the parcel?”

Nila bit her lip. “Um, I don’t have my cellphone anymore, but I do have the parcel. Here.”

She reached under the couch and pulled out the brightly wrapped shoebox. Constable Roth’s eyebrows lifted as he accepted it.

“A gift?” He lifted the lid, and his expression darkened. He removed the doll and photos and examined each one, passing them to his partner. “An unpleasant gift. We’ll need to take this downtown.”

Constable Kruger moved into the room to take the box and its contents. He stared at the note attached to the doll, turned and frowned at Nila. “There’s no signature, no indication of where this came from. What makes you think this is from your boyfriend?”

Nila bristled. “Nick is not my boyfriend. And I know it’s from him. The messages started right after I saw him at the wedding.”

“Right. And where is the phone with these supposed texts?”

Nila looked down, biting her lower lip. “I-I smashed it. The last message said ‘I warned you. Now you will pay. It’s your fault.’ I knew it was from Nick. He always told me it was my fault when he’d beat me. And I knew he would carry out his threats.” Her hands shook, and she tucked them under her thighs. “I—I had to get rid of it.” She looked up at Constable Roth. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Constable Kruger cleared his throat. “We have to follow the evidence. All you’ve got is a box with a doll and some photos and no evidence of who sent it.” His gaze hardened. “Maybe you did this yourself.”

Lydia gasped while Dave shot to his feet and glared at the officer. “That’s enough. We know this young lady, and she would never do such a thing. You owe her an apology.”

Constable Kruger stood at attention. “You expect me to believe this story without proof? We have to consider all possibilities. I read the trial transcripts. This young woman had some pretty nasty tales to tell.” His stare pinned Nila. “It is possible, is it not, that your desire for revenge on Mr. Parnell led you to invent this rather wild story?”

Nila shook her head in shock. Her face felt tight enough to split. “No! Of course not.”

Constable Roth stepped between his partner and Nila. “I’ll talk to Mr. Parnell and get this package examined in the lab. We’ll get back to you.”

After the door closed behind the two officers, Nila broke down again. She drew her knees to her chest and sobbed against them.

Lydia scooted closer and pulled Nila to her.

Dave sat on the other side and took her hand in his. “You did the right thing,” he said. “Even though it was rough, too rough for my liking, it was necessary.”

“But they didn’t believe me.” Nila lifted tear-filled eyes to his. “What good did that do? Now Nick will know I told. And he’s awfully good at hurting people.”

Lydia leaned her head against Nila’s. “Why do you suppose he made his release a secret? Saskatoon’s not that big a city. Someone could have seen him.”

Nila stilled. “I didn’t think about that. I don’t know. I guess he needed to control me somehow like he used to. What do you think?”

“Seems to me,” Dave said, “that he must get some kind of sick enjoyment from manipulating you and torturing you with threats. But now that we’re aware of those threats, we can be alert and pray accordingly.”

Nila sat up. “You’re right. I’ve been playing right into his hands by trying to keep his freedom a secret. He has been manipulating me.” She shuddered. “He’s had a lot of practice.”

“Now it’s in the hands of the police, but even better, it’s in God’s hands.” Dave squeezed Nila’s hand and released it. “Are you OK with that?”

Nila sighed. “I’m not sure the police are going to help, but I’m glad God’s taking care of us.”

Lydia smiled through tears. “Thank You, Jesus.”

She stood and held out a hand to Nila. “Shall we go see if that cookie dough can be rescued? And then, with your permission, I would like to make one more phone call.”