Curled up on a comfy lounge chair on the shady Clevenger lawn, Destiny sneaked a peek at her sister. For once, Jenna wasn’t scolding or pointing out Destiny’s shortcomings. She appeared genuinely concerned. Her sister might have strayed from her religious upbringing in some ways, but she obviously still remembered the awesome power of prayer.
“What are you going to do about it, Teeni? Is Clay looking into Karyn Peters’s background?”
Destiny nodded, her eyes on the twins. Dressed in a couple of their mother’s old dresses and pumps, and wearing hats Jenna had kept from Mama’s closet, they sat across from each other at a child-sized table under the patio. Jenna had provided them with a small pitcher of iced tea and a plate of sandwiches cut into fancy shapes. Sometimes Destiny longed to be their age again, and to have no bigger joy or headache than entertaining her younger siblings.
A loud snap of Jenna’s fingers, accompanied by a shrill whistle, brought Destiny back to the moment. “Hey! Stay with me, here. You OK?” Jenna grinned but concern tinged her voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. And yes, Clay is using his ‘resources’—whatever that means—to find out what he can about Karyn and anyone who’s ever been involved with her.” She paused and drew a haggard breath. “I feel guilty using the confidential information in her file for this purpose, but I really can’t think of another way.”
Jenna shrugged and made a wry face. “Well, I guess you could just ask her.”
“Ask her what? If she knows some guy whose name I don’t even know, and whose description I can’t give her?” Destiny shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun as she eyed her sister.
“Hmmm. You’ve got a point. But you could ask her if she knows of anyone who might not like what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, I suppose I could do that. But think about it. My reasons for suspecting the caller is connected to Karyn are not exactly viable. They wouldn’t stand up in a court of law, if you know what I mean.”
Jenna nodded and heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. Even for someone who had the same Bible-lovin’ little Mama you had, it’s hard to swallow. Not that I don’t believe you…” She hurried to explain. “It’s just that sometimes God’s way of doing things still bowls me over, even after all these years.”
“To say nothing of the fact that you haven’t been to His house in…how long, Jen?” Destiny spoke gently, allowing not even a hint of censure to color her voice. “I miss you in the family row.”
Jenna’s cheeks pinkened. “I know. I’m just so busy all the time, Teeni. I still consider myself a Christian. It’s just hard to fit church into my crazy schedule.”
“Believe me, I know how hectic your life is, but…” She hesitated, concerned for her sister, but having no desire to offend her. “Well, I’m not pointing fingers, you know that. But have you ever thought that things might be less chaotic and stressful if you made time for God first? I mean, you said it—you had the same mother I did, so you know where He’s supposed to be on your To-Do list. Right up there at the top.”
To her surprise, Jenna’s face crumpled and her eyes flooded with sudden tears. She allowed them to stream down her face unheeded. “I know. I think about it all the time. I just don’t know how to turn things around. My life is so far out of control I can’t even imagine where to start.”
Destiny hurried to her sister’s side, where she knelt and wrapped both arms around her. Tears overflowed her own eyes as Jenna cried in her arms.
“Start on your knees, Jen,” she whispered. “Always start on your knees.”
****
Clay dropped the receiver into its cradle and slammed one fist into his other hand. “Yes!”
All week he had been trying to find out something—anything—about Karyn Peters’s associates. It was Friday already, and this was the first inkling of success he’d had. It wasn’t much, just the names of a few men she’d dated in the past year. Still it could be something.
He thought about calling Destiny, but a glance at the clock told him it was almost noon. With a grin, he decided to just drop in on her. Maybe she could be convinced to join him for lunch.
As he drove to Solomon’s Gate, he thought about their trip to Destiny’s place the night before. She was itching to go home for good, but he had convinced her to finish out the week at his mother’s house. Her reluctant agreement came with a quiet insistence to pick up a few extra pieces of clothing. She also wanted to check her home phone for more threatening messages.
He stood with one arm around her shoulders as she listened. When no gravel-voiced threats came forth, he felt the tension drain from her body. Once more, he fought the urge to hit something.
He wasn’t surprised by the lack of messages. “I really don’t think he’s going to leave anything that can be used as evidence, which is exactly what a recording would be.” He watched her clear the message cache. “Not if he’s smart. Most people are aware that the police can do amazing things nowadays if they have a voice on tape.”
“That’s true,” she conceded. “But I can hope he’s lost interest. Maybe he was angry because someone he had his eye on found a date with us. Or he could just be some kind of fanatic with no real idea what a dating service is all about. I want to believe I’ll never hear from him again.”
Clay pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I want to believe it, too,” he murmured. “I really do.”
But something told him it would be a dangerous self-deception.
Still, he mused as he approached her office now, maybe Destiny had a point. A whole week had passed, and no boogeymen had slipped through the woodwork. Maybe it really was a prank caller, and he was tormenting someone else now.
He parked next to Destiny’s car and strode toward the office, grinning in anticipation. How could one feisty redhead make him feel like a love-struck high school kid?
A dour-faced man with a toolbox dangling from one hand passed him on the way in, rolling his eyes at Clay’s pleasant nod of greeting. The blatant rebuff only served to broaden Clay’s smile. Guess I can’t expect the whole world to be in—well, shall we say, “very strong like,” just because I am.
Pushing open the door, he noted the tinkle of the entry bell as he glanced toward Julie’s desk. But the perky blonde wasn’t at her post, and Destiny’s office door was closed. Either of those things alone wouldn’t be unusual, but he found it a bit odd that Destiny would close her door with Julie out of the office. Who would take care of customers?
The door to the supply room stood open, and he felt a surge of unwarranted relief. Julie must be seeing to something in there. Three long strides took him to the doorway, and he peeked around with a playful grin, expecting to startle the pretty assistant. Judging by her failure to appear, she must not have heard the bell.
The grin melted from his face when he found the room empty. Staring into the dimly lit area, a dark wave of foreboding washed over him, seizing his heart in a painful, vice-like grip. He whirled and rushed to Destiny’s door, certain it would be locked.
But the knob turned easily in his hand.
“Destiny?” Clay’s voice was loud in the dim office, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Running his fingers over the wall beside the doorframe, he found a switch, flipped it upward and gazed into the room.
Propped side by side against the desk, Destiny and Julie stared back at him through mutually terrified eyes. Ropes circled their wrists and ankles, and the ends of none-too-clean cloths hung from their stuffed mouths. Their heads rested together, as if to glean strength from one another.
“Oh, dear God!” Clay prayed even as he hurried across the room, his eyes frantically searching for signs of injury. No blood. That was a good thing. Kneeling beside Destiny, his breath caught in his throat.
The girls’ heads were together through no choice of their own. Someone had knotted a thick strand of Destiny’s auburn hair into a lock of Julie’s blonde tresses, and tied both around a piece of paper. He recognized the ivory parchment of Solomon’s Gate letterhead, rolled up like some kind of ghastly certificate.
White hot anger roiled within him and he quickly removed the gags from their mouths.
“Are either of you hurt?”
“No.” Julie’s reply was too soft, and followed by a deluge of tears.
“We’re both OK.” Destiny sounded more mad than scared.
Heaving a sigh of profound relief, Clay set to work, first unknotting the silken strands of hair with trembling fingers that slowed his progress. “Thank God! I’ll have you both free in a moment, girls. Just hang in there.”