Keep me from the snares they have laid for me,
from the traps set by evildoers.
Let the wicked fall into their own nets,
while I pass by in safety.
PSALM 141:9-10
CAL'S HEAD EXPLODED—but thankfully, the gun did not.
“Cal!” Annie jumped up. Jinko pushed her back into the rocker.
“Shut up! Quiet!” Jinko's eyes were locked on the TV news. He grabbed the remote and upped the volume.
Cal's cheek burned, his ear rang. And his heart raced. He touched his face. There was blood. The gun had broken the skin.
Annie was fairly bursting to stand and help him. “Let me get the first aid—”
Jinko glared at her. “I said shut up! He's fine.”
Cal nodded at her, patting a hand in the air, calming her. She sat back a bit. Good. He didn't need her riling Jinko.
Cal tried to think past the pain. He couldn't give in to it. Things were getting dicey. He had to concentrate…
The news said that Jinko and Jered had done this—or something like it—before. Jinko was obviously a pro and had somehow lured Jered into it. And now they were wanted by the law. Would this make their present situation better or worse?
“How did they find out it was us?” Jered said.
Jinko flashed him a look and he was quiet.
“…vehicle spotted near the crime scenes has been traced to Jered Manson and was found parked at the residence of Mr. Daly. Daly and Manson have not been seen today and took the day off from work.
Eldora police have contacted the police forces in neighboring towns and are looking for Daly's car: a black 2001 Mercedes with license plate DX-1823.”
“They know your car!” Jered took two steps toward the front door. “They'll see it outside. We have to go!”
Jinko held up a hand. “Hold on. Let me think.”
Suddenly pictures of Jered and Jinko flashed on the screen.
“That's my high school graduation picture! How did they get that?”
“Your dads been looking for you, Jered,” Annie said. “I'm sure he gave it to the police months ago.”
Jered fell onto the couch, his head in his hands. “Everyone will see. The whole town of Steadfast will think I'm a criminal.”
“You are a criminal, you twit!” Jinko yelled. The picture of Jinko was a promo shot in front of his restaurant.
Annie looked a little dazed. She raised a hand weakly. “I was at Palamba's a couple of weeks ago.” She looked at Jinko. “I can't believe you run that place.”
“I saw you,” Jered said. “I saw you and Claire and Merry.”
“Why didn't you say something? Come out and say hel—”
Jinko swung the gun at her and she flinched. “Because he's a runaway, lady. Because he didn't want people from this stinking town knowing where he was. Okay?”
She nodded and glanced one more time at Jered, but he looked away.
“We gotta go,” the boy whined. “We gotta go now.”
Jinko's head shook back and forth. “I'm not leaving empty-handed. What we have to do is think.” As the news broke for a commercial, he began to pace between the television and the coffee table. “We need to get rid of the car. For now. After we get the coins, we'll use one of theirs.”
Cal's mind ran with possibilities. Whatever he could do to end this thing… “I could drive it somewhere, leave it, and walk home.”
Jinko rolled his eyes. “And take a detour to the police station?”
Well, yeah. It was worth a try.
Jinko ran to a living room window and peered out. “Why do you have your cars in the driveway? Don't you have a garage?”
“We do, but it's full of my tools and wood and stuff. We've gotten in the habit of just leaving our cars out.”
Jinko let the curtain drop. “Not anymore. You have five minutes to make room for my car. Then we'll do some rearranging and get it inside.”
It would take way more than five minutes to clear a space. While Annie was a clutter-bug inside, Cal was just as bad in the garage. “I'm not sure five minutes is enough time.”
Jinko got in his face, making him rock back in the recliner. “Make it enough time.”
“Sure. I guess.”
“Now go. Jered, go help him.”
The boy shook his head. “I don't want to go outside. My face was just on TV.”
“It's dark. Go. And no funny stuff, Cal, or your wife is dead.”
With a look to Annie, Cal did as he was told. Hang in there, Annie-love. We'll get through this.
“Close the garage door behind us,” Jered said.
Cal hated taking orders from a kid—a punk kid, no less—but he closed it. The place was a pit.
“Jinko would have a fit if he saw this mess,” Jered said.
“How did you ever get hooked up with him?”
Jered picked up a couple two-by-fours. “We need to get going. Clear a space. Just like Jinko said.”
Cal made a decision. “Let's move everything against the back wall. Stack it. But we can only go out about two feet, or his car won't fit.”
They worked side by side, Cal's head throbbing every time he bent over. He didn't have much time to pump Jered for information, so he tried to sort out the questions he wanted to ask. He narrowed it down to two. “Are you afraid of Jinko?” Should we be afraid?
Jered carried a box of caulk to the back. “Not really. I mean, I wasnt.
“You weren't, but you are now?”
Jered seemed to realize what role he was supposed to be playing. His voice hardened in his version of tough man. “Yes, I am now. And you should be, too. He'll use that gun if he has to. Don't cross him.”
“You've seen him use a gun before?”
Jered showed Cal his back and dragged a duffel bag of tarps across the floor. “He'll use it, okay? Don't make him mad. Just do as he says.”
It was an unsatisfactory answer, but Cal doubted he'd get a better one. “Why did you run away from home? Your dad's been looking for you. He's been worried.”
Jered arched his back and laughed. “My dad? Worried about me? No way. Mad at me? Sure. Disappointed in me? Always. But worried? Never.”
“But he's been looking…” Actually Cal wasn't sure how much Bailey had been looking for Jered. Maybe it was best to leave it alone.
Jered did a double take at a blueprint that was opened on the workbench. He moved toward it. “This is for Bon Vivant.”
“Yes.”
“Is my dad adding on?”
“I finished it right before Thanksgiving.”
Jered stared at the plans, then suddenly snatched them up, tore them, wadded them, and threw them across the room.
“What did you do that for?”
The kid stood over the trashed plan, his chest heaving, his hands pumping fists. “He wasn't worried about me! He went on with his life as usual. He wasn't upset about me being gone. He added on to his precious restaurant like nothing had happened. My being gone didn't affect him one bit.”
Cal hated how this looked and hated even more that what Jered said sounded true. Why had Bailey continued with the addition project? How could he have done that? Cal thought back and realized if he hadn't known from other sources that Baileys son had run away, he wouldn't have suspected it, wouldn't have even known Bailey had a son. Something was terribly wrong with that.
Jered kicked a torn page. “We need to keep going. Jinko's counting on us. I don't want to disappoint him.”
It was an odd statement. Not the statement of a boy afraid of his partner but of a boy in search of a father figure.
All things considered, Cal couldn't blame him.
Annie and Jinko sat in the living room. Jinko flipped channels, trying to find more info about the burglaries.
Talk to him.
Annie immediately countered the thought with a question: About what?
But she knew very well what. She was in the midst of what could be a life-and-death situation. She had one goal: to save her family from further harm.
And save Jinko and Jeredy too.
Huh? The thought was so foreign, so out of place for the situation, that she knew it came from God. And as such, she had only one choice. She must obey. But she was scared. What if she made Jinko madder than he already was? What if he yelled at her, whipped his gun against her face, stopping her words? What if—?
I'm here. Trust Me.
With a deep breath she set My Utmost for His Highest on the floor. It was an amazing book about faith, but she needed to pull out the big guns. She slipped her pocket Bible out of her back waistband and set it on her lap. Lord, give me the words—Your words.
“Don't be afraid,” she said to Jinko—but also to herself.
Jinko flashed her a look. “I'm not afraid. You're the one who should be afraid.”
Her stomach flipped. “No thank you.”
He did a double take. “Excuse me?”
She rocked up and back, holding the Bible with both hands. She found that her stomach had miraculously settled. “I said no thank you. I will not be afraid. I choose not to be afraid.”
He laughed. “You choose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what makes you so brave?”
Inside, she laughed at the perfect opening God had supplied. She held up the Bible. “This. God.”
He squinted at the title. “That's not God. That's the Bible.”
“It's God's Word. His words.”
“Yeah, yeah, you got nothing.”
He was wrong, and she found herself smiling. “I have everything through Him. That's why I'm not afraid.” She ruffled through the pages and opened at random. Her eyes zeroed in on a verse: “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Jinko turned his attention back to the TV. “Save the Bible-thumping, lady. That's mystic mumbo jumbo. Do me a favor and keep it to yourself.”
Annie looked down at the Bible.
She shivered.
Jered and Cal came in the back door. Annie looked at the clock on the TV. It had been ten minutes, not five like Jinko had ordered. She hoped he wouldn't notice, wouldn't punish.
They came in the living room, and Annie sought Cal's eyes. He nodded, calming her. His face was horrible to see, rivulets and smudges of blood, drying. His eye and upper cheek were swollen.
Jinko was still flipping channels. Jered pointed at the television. “Anything else on the news?”
“Nothing,” Jinko said. “The garage ready?”
“Anytime.”
Jinko hit the remote and tossed it on the recliner. “Jered, you move their car, I'll move the truck, and Cal here, can move our car into the garage.”
“I don't think the two of us should go outside,” Jered said.
“So you'd let both of our hostages get in vehicles? Think, kid.”
Jered appeared to be thinking, but clearly he wasn't getting it.
Jinko sighed. “We need one of them in here—like the wife— because if she's left behind, then Mr. Macho Man won't try anything, knowing we'll hurt her if he drives off. Hurt her far more than a whap to the face.” He turned to Cal. “Comprende, Macho Man?”
Cal nodded. “I get it.”
“Good.” Jinko turned to Annie. “We'll only be outside a couple minutes, tops. Behave yourself.”
She continued her rocking, but her mind swam with what she could do in those two minutes. Call the police? Get Avi more food and drink? Get Avi out?
She followed the men into the kitchen. Unfortunately, as Jinko walked past the phone, he backtracked a step, unplugged it from the wall, and took it with him outside, along with the extension from upstairs.
That left helping Avi.
Annie gave her keys to Cal and let her fingers touch his. Their first contact. It helped more than she expected. To be in close proximity to Cal for so long yet unable to touch him… Then the men were outside.
Annie waited at the door until they were occupied, then she bolted to the pantry, grabbed a jar of peanut butter, a box of crackers, and a six-pack of juice boxes. She ran up the stairs, through the master bedroom, and flung open the door to the cubby.
“Food! I have food!”
Avi looked pained. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Oh, dear. “Go!” Annie whispered. “Go fast. They're all outside.”
Avi stumbled out of the cubby, tripping on the slippers and long sweatpants. Annie carried her to the master bathroom. “Hurry, sweet-apple. Hurry!”
She heard three engines swell and purr. There was no window in the bathroom, so she couldn't see. Annie heard a foreign-sounding vehicle drive toward the back of the house. They had Jinko's car in. She only had seconds.
“Done, Mama.”
“Don't flush.”
“What?”
Annie grabbed Avi and ran her back into the closet, giving her an extra squeeze and kiss. “Love you, dear one. Stay safe.”
“Are they staying all night, Mama?”
“It appears so.”
“Why are they doing this?”
Annie heard one engine shut off. “Shh!” She waved good-bye to her little girl and shut the door.
She ran back to the bathroom and flushed just as she heard footsteps come in the kitchen door.
“Hey, lady?” Jinko yelled. “Where—?”
She forced herself to be calm and walked down the front stairs. “I had to use the facilities.” She met them at the bottom of the stairs. “Speaking of another need, I really would like to go to bed. It's been a long day.”
Jinko looked around the first floor, then walked to the kitchen and back. “There are only these two doors, right?”
“Right,” Cal said.
“Is there a basement?”
“Unfinished.”
“Walkout?”
“No. Only tiny window wells.”
Jinko pointed at Jered. “Go check.” He looked up the stairs.
Annie really wanted to be with Cal so they could talk. And she needed to be in the master bedroom so she could be close to Avi. “You do not have, because you do not ask God.”
Lord, make it work. She raised a finger. “Sir? I'd really appreciate it if we could sleep in our own room.”
Jinko snickered. “You want me to allow you to sleep together?”
“Us being together is easier for you, too. Only one room to watch.”
“Hmm.” He pointed to the couch. “Jered, you sack out there and I'll—”
“But there's another bedroom. Can't I sleep—?”
“I need you on the first floor. Here. Near the doors.” Jinko turned his head right, then left. He pointed to the small buffet in the entry. “Help me move this.” Jered took an end, and they moved the buffet in front of the door. “Now go stack some canned goods by the back one. Good and wobbly so they'll fall if anyone tries to leave.”
“We won't try to leave,” Annie said. Not with Avi here.
“You bet you won't.”
They waited by the stairs until Jered completed his work. “All done.”
“Good. Then sleep. I'll get the romantics settled and move a chair outside their door. I'll take first watch. Then it's your turn.”
Jered sprawled on the couch. Annie hated seeing his shoes on the furn—
“Take off your shoes, you twit,” Jinko said.
Jered shucked them off, placing them in a neat twosome at the foot of the couch.
Jinko motioned up the stairs. “Shall we?”
Annie started to shut the bedroom door, but Jinko extended a hand to stop its swing. “The door stays open.”
She shook her head. “I'm sorry. But I cannot put on my bedclothes with a strange man able to watch.”
“Deal with it.”
“No.”
“Annie!” Cal couldn't believe her gumption.
She turned to her husband, crossing her arms. “I'm a modest woman, Cal. You know that. And I will not have him gaping at me— at us—while we sleep. Or as we try to sleep, because there is no way I can sleep with him looking in on us. That's it. End of discussion.”
Jinko laughed, shaking his head. “Your wife's a pistol, isn't she, Cal? How do you keep her reined in?”
“I…”
“The truth is you don't, right?”
He felt himself blush and shrugged. Now was not the time to argue. Let Jinko think what he wanted.
Jinko went to the bedroom window and peered out. Checking on the feasibility of an escape route? Cal knew it was a straight shot down, with a flower bed below. No branches close. No roof to hop onto.
When Jinko tried opening it, Cal remembered something. “It's painted shut. I've been meaning to fix that.”
“Good thing you didn't,” Jinko said, moving to the door. “Well then, little lady. I guess you can have your privacy.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Sleep well.”
Cal shut the door, and Annie hurled herself into his arms. Nothing had ever felt so good. “I'm so sorry, Annie. So sorry,” he whispered.
“Shh, shh. It's okay. It will be okay.”
Shouldn't he be the one saying that?
She suddenly pulled back. She was smiling, and he couldn't imagine why. Then she pulled him into the closet, a finger to her lips. She pointed to the cubby and he understood. Avi was in there!
She crooked a finger at it, indicating he should open it. Then she pointed to herself and tiptoed into the main room to stand guard.
Cal carefully opened the door and found their daughter huddled in a bunch of their clothes and blankets.
“Daddy!” she whispered. Her face registered shock at the sight of his face. Tears were on her cheeks. Avi, who never cried. It killed him…
With a motion he silenced her, then gave her a hug. “Oh, dar-lin, it's all right. Everything will be all right.” He pulled back to look at her, wiping a tear with his thumb. “You okay?”
She nodded then pointed to a stash of food. “Mama brought it up.”
When did she do that?
Cal heard a chair being set outside the bedroom door. The old house had thin walls. “We're going to bed,” he told Avi. “We'll be right there.” He pointed to the bedroom. “But you stay put until we get you. Understand? You don't come out. Ever.”
She nodded. “When will they go, Daddy?”
“I don't know, darlin. Hopefully in the morning.”
“What do they want?”
“Money. Coins.”
“Then give them some.”
If only I could. He couldn't explain. He didn't want to explain. “Shh, now. Go to sleep. Love you.”
“Love you too, Daddy.”
Bailey Manson sat forward on his couch, the remote dangling in his hand. Had he really heard his sons name on the news? Surely not. Surely it was a horrible mistake.
Please make it be a horrible mistake.
There was a knock on the door. Who would be stopping by at such a late hour? It couldn't be good.
The knock continued. “Bailey? Its me. Ken Kendell.”
Officer Ken Kendell. Baileys nerves tightened. “Coming.” He opened the door.
Ken looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry to bother you, Bailey.” He glanced past him to the television. “You saw? You heard?”
He didn't want to do this through an open door. “Come in.”
Ken entered.
“Sit.”
Ken sat on the Morris chair—or rather, perched on its edge. Bailey wanted to tell him to sit back and relax, because as long as he sat at attention, the news could not be good.
“What's this about, Ken? Surely Jered can't be involved.”
“It looks that way. Like the news said, his truck was seen at the crime scenes and then spotted at the home of Mr. Daly.”
“Who is this Daly?”
“He owns a restaurant and bar in Eldora. Palambas.”
Bailey made a face. “Its a dive.”
“Its hardly a dive. It's a nice place. They have great burritos.”
“Oh, please…”
Ken shifted on the chair. “The Eldora police have interviewed some of the employees, and they say Jered's okay. Healthwise, that is. In case you're interested.”
Bailey felt his cheeks flush, more from the fact he hadn't thought about asking if Jered was okay than Ken's comment. “I can't believe he's involved in burglaries. He's not a perfect kid, but he's not a bad one either.”
Ken shrugged. “Circumstances can make people do odd things. He did need to find a way to survive…”
“He needed to come home. If he had stayed here, none of this would have happened. He had everything he needed here.”
Ken stood. “I just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.”
He threw his hands in the air. “How do you think I'm doing? My sons name is splashed all over the nightly news, telling the world he's a suspected criminal. Do you know what that will do to my reputationr.
Kens left eyebrow rose. “Sorry its inconveniencing you, Bailey.”
He realized his error. “Its not inconveniencing me; it's—”
“Embarrassing you?”
Bailey ran his hands through his hair. “Ugh. Sorry. I'm upset. My mind's not working straight.” He took a fresh breath. “Is this Jinko dangerous?”
“We must assume so.”
Bailey suddenly felt tears threaten. “Please—” His voice cracked and he swallowed. “Please keep me informed.”
“Will do.”
Bailey let Ken see himself out.
Jered couldn't get comfortable on the McFay's couch. His wallet was in the way. He removed it and was just about to toss it on the coffee table when he opened it. He removed the bent snapshot of him and his dad, taken years ago at the opening of Bon Vivant. They were both smiling, and his dad's arm was around his shoulder.
Another time, another place, another life.
His eyes glared at the darkened television. His name had been on the news as a criminal. He prayed his dad worked late, missing it. Either way, other people in Steadfast had seen it. Moog and Darryl, Sim, his other friends at school. He shivered at the thought of them talking about him, laughing at him. “Can you believe Jered's a big-time thief?”
If they were surprised, he was absolutely shocked. How had all this happened? How could running away to pursue a dream end up with his name announced as a criminal on television? He'd wanted people to know his name for good reasons, not this.
But you stole. Over and over you stole.
He flipped over on his side and pulled the afghan onto his shoulder. It was almost as if the past seven weeks had been separate from reality, like he'd been caught in a bubble, doing the same thing over and over again, never being able to run straight and hard against its surface to break through to the real world beyond.
Not entirely true. How many times had Vasylko offered him money to get home? How many times had Vasy warned him, told him what he didn't want to hear?
He opened his eyes and saw the Christmas tree before him. If he squinted his eyes, the lights stretched and throbbed. Very cool. Did his father have a tree? Was the Santa collection on the mantel surrounded by that wispy white stuff that looked like snow? Was there a present under the tree for him?
He looked past the tree to the door. Leave! Now!
He raised onto an elbow and listened. The house was silent. The McFays were in bed, and Jinko was sitting outside their door. Jered let his eyes wander from the front door, up the stairs to where Jinko sat. With one step Jinko could leave his place by the bedroom door and look down the stairs. Jered couldn't get out that way.
But how about the back?
He thought of all the cans he'd stacked as a noisy warning if their hostages tried to escape. Would those same cans keep him captive?
I can be careful. I can move them. I can leave.
Jered set the afghan to the side and sat up. He listened to the other sounds of the house. The furnace was going, and at just that moment, the refrigerator started up, giving him more cover. It was now or never.
He picked up his shoes and tiptoed to the kitchen. He took his coat off the hook and wrapped his shoes inside. Once outside, he could run hard, carrying the bundle like a quarterback carrying a football toward a touchdown.
That ready, he stooped next to the door and studied the can sculpture a moment. It was like that kid's game he had called Jenga, where you built a tower and then had to carefully remove the pieces, trying not to make it fall. He figured out the first move and safely removed a can of pork and beans. Next came a can of corn.
He forced himself to take a breath and flexed his fingers like a safecracker. If he took the green beans down next, would that make the peas—?
“Going somewhere?”
Jered fell backward, missing the can tower with his foot by an inch. He thought fast, then picked up the can of corn. “I thought of a way to redo this to make it better.” He glanced at Jinko as he picked up the can. “If we put it over here…”
“Nice try, kid.”
Jered put the beans back on, not daring to look at Jinko. Not when his face was always so readable. “There. Isn't that better?” He stood, then noticed his jacket bundle. He stepped in front of it.
Jinko pushed him aside. “And what's this?” He unwrapped the package until his shoes fell to the floor.
There was nothing Jered could say. Nothing.
Jinko shoved the parcel into Jered's arms. “You don't want to know what would have happened if you'd gotten out and I'd caught up with you.”
I…Im sorry.
“Save it.” He shoved Jered toward the front room. “Get back to sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours to take over.” Jinko shoved the barrel of the gun against Jered's chin. It was cold and hard. “You try this again and I'll use the gun. If not on you, then on your father. I know where he lives. Remember?”
Jered hurried back to the couch, his spine tingling as if he was being chased by something evil and dangerous.
There was no way out. None.