9:38 p.m.
Baumhauer Castle
Wells’ Living Quarters
Hardy and Dahlia had finished searching the premises and gathering the VerTactical, stopping along the way to destroy the security system. He let her enter Wells’ living area ahead of him. Shutting the door and dropping the canvas bag that held the ascending pole, he saw the time on his watch. “Dahlia, in another fifteen, I want you to take over for Pence.”
She interlaced her fingers and feigned cracking her knuckles. “I can’t wait.”
Smiling, he turned away, stopped and pivoted back toward her. “Hey, I know we wisecrack a lot, and I don’t say it very often, but,” he nodded his head, “Nice work tonight, making contact with Wells on the mountain, getting him to bring you here…everything.”
Dahlia beamed. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. You’re a great asset to this team.” He put a hand on the side of her shoulder. “I also consider you a great friend.”
Dahlia swallowed. Batting her eyes, she kept the pressure from building behind them.
“I need to talk to Cruz.” He tipped his head toward the bedroom door. “Don’t forget…fifteen minutes.”
“I won’t.” After he left, Dahlia swiped fingers under her eyes and sniffed. Friend. I’ll never get used to hearing that word.
Hardy came up from behind his girlfriend. “Cruz, you got a minute?”
She spun around, gave her phone a last glance and stuffed the device into a pocket. “What’s up?”
He led her to the other side of the room. “Seeing Wells again brought back memories from the island.” Hands on hips, he frowned. Or should I say voices? “When we were separated…and I was alone in that room, I—” He looked up at the ceiling and drew in a breath. After washing a hand down his face, he scratched his head and massaged the back of his neck. “I—” he winced, and let out a quick burst of air.
Cruz stepped closer and put a hand on his waist. “Hey, what is it? What’s going on?”
He squinted at her, and his second hand went back to his hip. “I don’t know how to tell you this. Well, I’m not sure I should tell you this. You might think I’m crazy.”
“That ship has sailed, Mr. Hardy.”
Meeting her gaze and seeing the wry grin on her face, he chuckled.
She glimpsed Dahlia and saw the woman had her back to them. Cruz added her other hand to his waist. “You can tell me anything.”
After exhaling another long chest heave, he nodded and swallowed. “Okay, here goes.” Hardy relayed his story of the voice he had heard when he was tied to the chair on the island. “What do you think? Am I nuts? Was I just hearing things? I kid you not, Cruz. That voice was as real as hearing you talk. I—” he shook his head. Perspiration beads had formed on his brow. “I—”
Cruz moved both hands to his chest and tipped her head back. “First of all, I don’t think you’re insane.”
“How can you be so sure? I mean you weren’t there. You don’t know how—”
She patted his pectoral muscle twice. “I know because I’ve had the same experience.”
His upper body leaned away and his eyebrows furled downward.
“It was a year ago,” she paused recalling the story, “and I was working this case, chasing a serial killer all over the country.”
“Wait a minute. Is this the one involving that whack job who had a thing for—”
Cruz nodded. “Yes, it’s the same case.”
“You told me about this one already.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t tell you everything that happened.”
Hardy’s eyebrows went up.
“Remember when I said we had the killer surrounded?”
“Uh huh. You took him down. You shot him.”
“Right. Well,” Cruz turned away, “just before I pressed the trigger…” Her mind was rolling over the video footage. She faced Hardy. “Just before I shot him, I heard a voice.”
Hardy’s eyes bulged. “You never mentioned that.”
“I know.” She poked his chest. “And now you know why. This isn’t something that comes up in everyday conversation.” She bobbed her head and held up a hand. “Hey, how’s it going? By the way, I hear voices.”
Hardy let out a short laugh, grateful for the levity. “What did you hear?”
“Three words…I heard three words.” Cruz glanced away again. “Vengeance is mine.” She spotted his wrinkled brow out of the corner of her eye. “I wanted to kill that guy for all the bad things he had done. I didn’t want justice for the victims. I wanted blood, his blood.”
“So you think it was your subconscious, telling you not to do it?”
She tipped her head left and right. “Maybe.”
Hardy squinted at her. “You don’t think that’s what it was, do you?”
Cruz peered back at him. “No, I don’t.”
Hardy waited. Don’t push. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.
A full minute passed. Cruz mimicked Hardy, taking deep breaths before blurting out, “I think God was speaking to me directly.”
I knew she was going to say that.
“I talked with Father McMurray about it, and…well…I’ve come to the conclusion that that’s what happened.”
Getting the feeling that this conversation was as much of a confession for her as it was for him, Hardy wanted to hug and squeeze her uneasiness away and bring her peace. Dahlia’s presence, however, meant the public display of affection—unprofessional in the workplace—would have to wait. He brought the weight of the topic back to himself. “Do you believe that’s what I heard…God’s voice?” He dipped his head and caught a glimpse of the gold crucifix under her shirt, peeking out from between two buttons. Certainly a hell of a—heck of a lot better than thinking I’m losing my mind.
“To be honest, I’m not sure either one of us will ever know the truth,” she paused, “at least not in this life. And that’s okay, because what matters most,” she tapped his heart with her middle finger, “is what you believe in here.” She smiled. “I can’t think of a better thing to believe than the One who created the universe, the world and us…chose to speak to you.”
“But…why me? I don’t under—”
She patted his chest again. “Don’t overthink it. It’s not for us to ask why.”
“But do and die?”
Cruz snickered. “That’s not exactly where I was going with that. No, God is so far above our thought processes that—”
“We don’t,” Hardy nodded, “have the brain power, mental capacity to understand his reasons…or question Him. I get it.” He stepped back, hands still on hips, and stared at the floor. “Thanks, Cruz.” He paused. “That really helps.”
“My pleasure.” She waited a beat. “I love you.”
He ogled her out of one eye. “Love you too, Cruz.” Twisting a wrist, he read the time on his watch. “Pence’s got a few minutes left. I need to see what he’s been able to get from Mr. Wells.”
Cruz dug out her mobile. “I need to follow up with Cherry to make sure our plane is ready.”
Hardy half-turned and stopped. “Hey.”
She faced him.
He winked.
She returned the gesture, smiled and pointed with her forehead. “Go. You’ve got work to do.”
Hardy gave a quick salute, “Yes ma’am,” spun on his heels and marched toward Dahlia.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
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