And Then Came A Lion (Lions and Lambs Book 1) (4 page)

Seconds turned into minutes. She leaned over the steering wheel and peered at the house. What was going on? She sat back and drummed her fingers. This stakeout business was nerve-wracking and she was already a nervous wreck.

The front door opened and two officers escorted a handcuffed man to the back of one of the cruisers. Another officer appeared with the boy. Susannah watched the cars until they disappeared, then drove out of the alley and headed to the closest Chinese restaurant. Mark would understand, right?

***

Susannah parked the car in the garage, snatched her phone from her purse, and went directly to the NAAC website. The story of Robbie’s successful rescue had already replaced the Amber Alert. His abductor now awaited trial for abduction, abuse, and a host of other crimes.

Susannah set her phone down. How could anyone be so cruel to a child?

Once again, she heard her dad’s voice. “There has been evil since before the world began.”

And so there had.

The old Indian appeared once again in her dreams. This time he took her to a subdivision several miles over on the north side of town. A white van sat parked in front of one of the houses in the middle of the block.

The old Indian gestured to the side of the house. A man worked the screen loose on one of the windows and crawled in. Moments later, he emerged through the front door, carrying a small girl.

Again, the following images showed horrific suffering and a brutal death.

“Susannah, this will happen in one hour.”

She rolled over and opened her eyes. The clock read three am. There was no doubt as to what she should do, but it was a little cloudy on the how part. Regardless, she couldn’t allow the child to be hurt, no matter what she had to do to stop it.

She grabbed some clothes and slunk out of the bedroom and down the stairs. After hurriedly dressing, she grabbed her keys from the peg and eased the side door open. She paused and listened, only the usual nighttime noises. With a sigh, she slipped out the door and into the garage.

The images the old Indian showed her were precise, making the house easy to find. She parked half a block down and crept up to a hedge separating the home from its neighbor. She stayed well hidden in the shadows, yet close enough to have a good view of the front and side of the house. The man would come from the right. She adjusted her Bluetooth. Who knew it would have such a practical application. Both it and the pepper spray Mark had bought her, were useful.

The sound of an engine drew her attention back toward the road. A white van slowed in front of the house and parked. The driver climbed out and went immediately to the side window. Susannah shivered. He either knew the girl, or had stalked her long enough to know intimate details about her.

He expertly removed the screen, and then pried the window open without making a sound. That ugly art must have come from a great deal of practice, but this would be the end of his predations.

Susannah spoke into the microphone. “Call 911.”

The dispatcher answered on the second ring. “What is your emergency?”

“A prowler has just broken into a neighbor’s house.”

“What is the location?”

“Fifty-seven east Fountain Avenue.”

“The police are on their way. Please stay on the line.”

The front door opened and the man emerged carrying the child.

“He’s coming out of the house with a child now!”

“Stay calm, Ma’am. The officers are close. Can you see where he is taking the child?”

“Yes. He has a van parked in front of the house.”

“Can you get a license number?”

“Yes.”

Susannah shifted her position until she had a clear view of the back of the vehicle. She gave the dispatcher the number.

“He’s got the girl in the back of the van. Where
are
the officers?”

“Officers will be there any moment.”

Not soon enough.
Keeping in the shadows, she cut through the front yard, circled the front of the van, and inched along the driver’s side. At midway, she stopped and readied the pepper spray.

The back doors of the van shut. She raised the spray. The man stepped around the side and Susannah pressed the trigger on the canister. It had the desired effect. He went down to his knees, his hands over his eyes. Susannah stood ready to spray him again, but the man stayed down.

When the long awaited cruiser finally turned onto the street, she crept back to the hedge and ran for her car.

***

Susannah laid her purse and keys on the counter, and went out onto the back deck. So far, Mark hadn’t noticed her absence. But, if he did find out she’d run off in the middle of the night to rescue another child, what explanation could she give?

“Where have you been?”

Susannah jumped. “Mark!”

“Where were you?”

“I had an errand.”

“In the middle of the night? Are you having an affair?”

“No!”

“Then what were you doing?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Then make some coffee.”

They sat opposite each other in the breakfast nook. Mark listened to her explanation without comment, now and then shaking his head.

“How many times have you done this?”

“Just twice.”
Well, that wasn’t a total lie. She only dreamed of the old Indian twice.

“Is this something that will continue?”
“I don’t know. This has never happened before.”
“You didn’t have a dream about the little boy. How did you know to interfere there?”

“I didn’t
interfere.
I called in a report.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about these dreams ― premonitions ―before?”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“You could have tried.” He fingered his mug.

Susannah knew more was coming and waited, allowing him formulate his thoughts.

Mark dropped his hands to the table. “How do I know you are telling me the truth now?”

“I am.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you say.”

Susannah shrank back.

He stood up, knocking his chair back against the cabinets. “I need to think about this.”

He left the room. Seconds later, she heard his footsteps going upstairs.

Susannah stepped out into the foyer, glanced up the staircase, and shook her head. No, it would be better give him some space. She went into the living room, curled up on the couch, and cried until she fell asleep.

Mark left for work the next morning without speaking a word. He didn’t bother with coffee or the special breakfast Susannah fixed as a reconciliatory gesture. Her one consolation, he carried only his car keys when he left.

She ignored the overwhelming urge to call him on his cell phone. He wouldn’t appreciate her neediness ―
but she
did
need him, and she desperately needed to know he still loved her, still wanted to work on their marriage, and still wanted her
.

Brushing back a fresh set of tears, she plodded up the stairs to ready for work. A folded paper lay on the dresser, tucked next to the mirror. Her hand shook as she opened it. The paper held only four words.
I still love you.

***

Every few minutes Susannah glanced up at the wall clock opposite her desk and groaned. It seemed like the minute hand refused to move. If the clock didn’t work, did that mean time had stopped? Perhaps, it hadn’t stopped for the world in general, but it sure seemed to be standing still for her.

Rachel looked over at her. “Would you stop that? He left you that note. So, stop it.”

“What if he changed his mind and went back home and packed his things?”

“Susannah, stop conjuring up trouble that isn’t there.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“Did you try calling him?”

Susannah shook her head. “No. He said he needed some space.”

“Well, then give him some space. He’ll come around. He loves you. This isn’t divorce quality stuff.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

Rachel threw both hand up and shook her head. “I give up.” She turned back to her computer.

Susannah stared at her screen for a few minutes and then looked over at Rachel. “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Unfortunately, I have some errands. Want to tag along?”

Susannah sighed. “No. Maybe I’ll just take my book to the breakroom.”

“Not going to the park?”

“No, not today. I’m not in the mood to go alone.”

In truth, she wasn’t in the mood for anything, except calling Mark. But, that would just have to wait. There was that patience thing again. Just how much patience was she expected to have?

At noon she took her lunch bag and book to the breakroom. It proved to be a good choice. The book drew her into another world, into someone else’s problems, and for a short while, she forgot her own.

The rest of the afternoon went by a bit faster, and finally it was time to clock out and go home. Mark wasn’t there. But, it was still early. She’d wait a bit before she started to worry.

By six-thirty Susannah was pacing the kitchen. Should she start dinner or wait? She stopped at the back door and stared out the window. What if he didn’t come home, what then? She sank into the bench seat in the breakfast nook and put her head in her hands.

The garage door opened. Mark stepped in and leaned against the doorframe. “I do love you, Susannah. Can we find a compromise?”

“I love you too, Mark, and I’m willing to find some common ground.”

“Good. I called Aaron. You have the next two days off, giving us a four day weekend.”

“Really? Exactly where are we going?”

“Well, I’ve made dinner reservations…”

Their reservations were two and a half hours away, lakeside, at sunset.

“Is this all right?” Mark gestured at the lake. “We could have stayed at the lodge, but I know you used to camp with your folks and loved it from what I understand.”

“Oh, this is perfect. I’ve always wanted to come here.”

Priest Lake, Idaho. Susannah
had
wanted to go camping there for a long time, but Mark always put it off. He was too busy, too tired, too something. It took a crisis in their marriage to get him away from town, and yet here they were, sitting next to the fire, steaks sizzling on the grill, foil wrapped potatoes lying in a bed of coals.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched her feet out a comfortable distance from the flames. Yes, she’d accept his peace offering with an open mind ― and heart.

Mark checked the steaks and poked the potatoes. “Steaks will be done in about five minutes. The potatoes are done now.”

“My tummy is growling in anticipation.”

“Are you sure this is okay? I can probably still get a lodge reservation.”

“No. I love this, really.”

Mark took her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. He cupped her face and kissed her, a long, passionate kiss.

He wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I was afraid if I didn’t do something, I’d lose you. Now wait. I know I didn’t react the way I should have when you told me about the dreams and the kids. Let’s compromise. I won’t interfere with these rescues, as long as you don’t take any risks. Let the police handle it. Don’t go barging in and taking on these thugs by yourself. Just be a good witness, like you did with the first two. As far as the dreams, give me some time think about those. Agreed?”

“Oh Mark, you’ll never lose me. And, I agree not to take any
unnecessary
risks.”

They ate dinner by firelight, watched the canopy of stars emerge and the moon rise. The waves lapping the lakeshore, coupled with the wine and food, soon lulled Susannah into a drowsy stupor. Mark took her hands and pulled her to her feet. Slipping his arm around her waist, he led her to the tent. Moments later, she was snuggled in his arms and in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Early the next morning, Susannah stood beside the fire, holding a cup of steaming coffee, and watching the horizon for the first glimpse of sunrise. Birds twittered from cedar boughs and low brush. Squirrels dashed from tree to tree. She took a deep breath. Nothing compared to coffee beside a lake or creek at dawn, at least not in her opinion.

Mark emerged from the tent, stretched, and ambled over to the fire. Susannah poured coffee from the French Press into a large mug and handed it to him.

“Ah, so your mom
did
put that in the camping gear after all.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, it’s been so long since we’ve gone camping, I couldn’t remember what to pack so I asked your mom to help.”

“I see.”

“So, what’s wrong with the old camp percolator? That’s always been a tradition.”

“Boiled water and coffee grounds do not make for good coffee. Pine needles in pancakes are a tradition too, but it doesn’t improve the taste of them either.”

Mark winked. “Just teasing you. I agree, this is good coffee and yes, I’ll pass on extra fiber in my breakfast. I don’t care for boiled coffee that could hold up a spoon.”

“As for breakfast, how about fresh trout?”

“Nothing better. Who’s catching and who’s cooking?”

“You catch. I’ll clean and cook.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I feel like just sitting by the fire with my coffee for a bit.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

Susannah nodded.

Mark set his cup down on the picnic table and gathered his fishing gear. He gave her a quick kiss and headed down the shoreline.

Susannah settled into her chair, cradling her mug. Sometimes the simplest things were the most treasured. It had been a long time since she’d relaxed this much. Buddy nudged her leg. She reached down and rubbed his ears. Life couldn’t get much better than that moment. Yet, the quiet wouldn’t last. Once the sun was up, people would be moving around and the area would be buzzing with boaters, skiers, and swimmers. At least anglers were quiet, not like the ear-splitting dirt bikes and ATVs.