Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (33 page)

Rick shook his head and grinned. “No, you didn't. You might have thought you saw him, but it wasn't him.” Rick's face was shining. “It's over, Stephanie.”

She had never seen Rick looking this happy. “How do you know it wasn't him? I saw him. I mean I thought it was him, but I wasn't close enough to see for sure.” Rick's calm reaction was confusing her.

He lifted her off the ground and swung her in circles. When he placed her back down and let go, she giggled. “What is that all about? Are you sure you only had coffee to drink?”

“I just have really, really,
really
good news for you.”

Stephanie rubbed at the crease between her eyebrows, trying to get her forehead to relax.
Really good news, huh?
So Rick was talking to her again? What had happened to the frozen Rick she had encountered at the vet's office? This guy was so hot and cold. She never knew what to expect from him. It was disorienting to have him change personalities so abruptly.

She urged him on. “And this good news is...”

“Gary Shelton called me.” A gigantic grin took over Rick's entire face, making that gorgeous dimple reappear, deeper than she had seen it yet.
That's not fair, God. That dimple is an unfair advantage.

“And?” Stephanie urged.
Would he just spit the news out already?

“And, Shelton got a call from the Bellingham Police Department. They pulled over a drunk driver and they got an NCIC hit when they ran him.”

She tugged on her earlobe, rolling it between her fingers.
Would you speak English?
“What is NCIC?”

“NCIC stands for the National Crime Information Center. It's a nationwide database for felony warrants. We can run a person's information anywhere in the country and see if they have a felony warrant from somewhere else. When Bellingham ran their driver, they got a hit.” Rick paused for another huge grin. “It was Julian Hale, Stephanie. They
arrested
him an hour ago.”

She blinked a few times. Her brain was having a hard time processing what Rick was saying. “You mean...”

Then Rick cupped his hand behind her neck, touching his forehead to hers, and said, “You, Stephanie O'Brien, are a free woman.”

But she had been so sure it was Julian looking at her from across the street. Her nerves must have been playing tricks on her imagination. She hadn't seen the man's face. He could have been anyone and she would have seen Julian because that's what she had expected to see.

Rick pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into his chest. She liked how she tucked easily underneath his chin. She didn't care that they were standing on a sidewalk surrounded by tons of people. And she didn't care that tomorrow Rick would probably go back to acting as if he didn't even know her. Right now, she needed to be held, to feel anchored down, before she could fully grasp the words Rick had told her.

“It's really over?” she whispered.

He pulled her in tighter. She felt his jaw moving on top of her head as he spoke, his voice deeper. “It's really over, Stephanie. Julian Hale is ninety miles away from here behind bars where he belongs. You're safe.”

SEVENTEEN

Monday Morning

S
tephanie awoke to a kidney shot from a small brown foot. She wasn't sure at what hour Joash and Haddie had transitioned from their sleeping bags in the living room to sleeping with her, but her muscles were sore from being held in unnatural positions for too long.

The foot responsible for her aching kidney belonged to Joash on her left side. He stretched out horizontally, taking up over two-thirds of Stephanie's small full-size bed. Using Stephanie's right arm as her pillow, Haddie sucked her thumb and curled deeper into Stephanie's side.

All of the bed covers had been kicked off them and Stephanie was freezing. She needed to get up and get ready for work, but she didn't want to wake up the sleeping kids this early in the morning. She slid her arm out from under Haddie's head, cushioning the girls' dark curls with her other hand, lowering it slowly, slowly, hoping to escape without waking her. She moved her pillow up against Haddie's side to be her substitute. She scooted down and exited at the foot of the bed. There hadn't been enough room for the three of them to sleep comfortably, but Stephanie was glad the kids had found her, anyway.

Waking up to the two tiny companions had comforted her in such a deep place. She stood at the foot of the bed watching them sleep. Her chest ached with longing. The peace on their faces was beautiful. In his sleep, Joash scooted closer to his sister for warmth. Stephanie spread the covers over both of them.

As much as she loved these two spooning kids, they did not belong to her. Would she ever stand in the dark watching her own babies sleep, or was that the cost of the meaningful life she wanted? She had always said she wanted to be different, to have a life that meant something, and to do something big for God. Maybe giving this up was her cross to bear. She shook her head to free it from the melancholy. She had allowed too much distraction over the past week in the form of Rick Powell. She needed to get her head back on the goal. Especially now that Julian had been arrested, and she was free to go on with her plans. That is if she could figure out what those plans were even suppose to be.

Stephanie rubbed at the kink in her neck as she tiptoed past Val's air mattress on the living room floor on her way to the kitchen. Val had sensed Stephanie's apprehension at being alone and had spent the past two nights with her. Knowing Julian was in jail in Bellingham made her feel safer, but it would take some time before she would be completely comfortable with being alone.

In the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee. Too impatient to wait until it was done, she poured herself a quick cup and then slid the pot back under to finish filling. She wrapped her hands around the steaming mug and gazed outside into the predawn dark.

“Up already?”

Stephanie jumped, spilling hot coffee on her hand. “Val. You're supposed to be sleeping in.”

Val shrugged. “Want me to make you breakfast?”

“I'd love it, but there's no time.” Stephanie set her mug in the sink and dried off her hand. “I've got to get to school.”

Val rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms high above her head. “This early? But it's still dark out there.”

“Yeah, but I've been gone all week. I need an early start.” Stephanie dreaded the mess waiting for her after being away from her classroom. It was going to be a long day of retraining her kids in classroom expectations, and catching up on paperwork and planning. The sooner she got to school the smoother her day would be. “I'm going to shower and go. Don't worry about me for breakfast. I'll pick up a bagel on the way.”

Val poured herself a mug of coffee. “So have you talked to Rick?”

Stephanie nodded. “He and Detective Shelton are driving to Bellingham this morning. The extradition hearing will be at eight o'clock, and then they can bring Julian back to Seattle.”

Val took a long swig from her mug and then turned a teasing grin on Stephanie. “That will be nice, but what I meant was have you and Rick talked about
you and Rick
.”

Stephanie's heart squeezed. She hadn't seen much of Rick at all this weekend. He had come to the early service at church with the Watkinses, but Axle was home from the vet, and Rick had needed to hurry back to take care of him before his work shift started. Stephanie didn't want to admit to Val how disappointed she felt at how little she had seen of Rick or how lonely that lack of contact had made her feel.

“There is no
me and Rick
, Val.”

Val blew on the top of her steaming cup and asked, “And why is that?”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Okay, matchmaker. I'm not his type. Have you ever met his ex-fiancée? She is so gorgeous. I have never felt like such a hick as I did standing next to her.”

“You mean the woman who left him alone when he needed her the most? Allie abandoned him, Stephanie. You are the gorgeous one—inside and out—and Rick sees that, too. I saw the way he looked at you at church yesterday. No matter what you say, I believe that you two belong together. You can't deny that you have feelings for him.”

Stephanie closed her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, I do.” It was surprisingly freeing to admit it out loud. “But what good do feelings do me? I'm supposed to be a missionary, and isn't that the cost of following my calling? Giving up earthly pleasure, even love if need be, for the greater gain? Look at all the missionaries in history, like Amy Carmichael. She gave up everything to serve God on the mission field.”

“Amy Carmichael was obedient to the calling God had on
her
life. You need to be sure of only what He is asking of
you
, Stephanie. And why can't you have both? Serve the Lord and love someone. It doesn't have to be mutually exclusive.”

Val was quiet for a moment. Then she continued in a softer tone. “I know this is going to come out all wrong, but I'm going to say it, anyway. Sometimes I wonder if you are afraid of losing God's love, that He'll reject you like your dad did. I don't deny that you love Liberia, or even that God is calling you to serve the people there, but—” she hugged Stephanie around the waist “—you have to live your life, Stephanie. Not your sister's life, not your heroes' lives, only your own life. God's love for you is not dependent on how well you perform for Him. You know that you don't have to earn it, right? That it's a gift.”

Stephanie frowned. Her mouth gaped. She opened and closed it several times as she groped for words to explain herself. When she couldn't find them, she shook her head and waved off Val's concern. “Of course I know that, Val. That's not it. You just don't understand. You haven't been there. You haven't seen what I've seen. I
love
Liberia.”

“But you want to love Rick, too, don't you?”

Stephanie flinched from the sting of the words. She didn't have time for a heart-to-heart. “I've got to go, Val. Help yourself to whatever you want to make for yourself and the kids for breakfast.”

* * *

Rick's knee bobbed. He drummed his fingers on the car's armrest, and then stopped to check the clock app on his phone for what must be the thirtieth time. Shelton was driving as fast as he could get away with, but for Rick, the two-hour drive had felt like five already.

He didn't have to come along. Now that Axle had been discharged, Rick could have chosen to stay at home with him and let someone else go with Shelton to pick up Hale. But Axle was in good hands with Cindy, his retired, dog-loving next-door neighbor, and Rick needed to see Julian Hale wearing handcuffs with his own eyes.

Finally Shelton's phone droned out the last of the GPS's turn-by-turn directions. “Your destination will be on the right,” it intoned in its signature science fiction–like voice.

Rick released a breath of relief.
About time.

Shelton pulled the department's transport van into the jail's sally port and put it into park. “I can't wait for Hale to face the justice he deserves,” Shelton said. “I'm going to have a tough time not delivering it myself.”

“Me, too,” agreed Rick.

The detective reached behind the van's front seat and grabbed his briefcase. “So after this case is wrapped up, are you planning on making a move on the girl, or what?” Shelton asked Rick.

Rick snorted as he climbed out of the van. “Why? Are you interested in her, Gary?” He tapped the hood. “I can always see if Stephanie wants a date with you.”

“Watch it, you young punk,” Shelton said. Then he winked. “I will say that if I had a better track record with relationships, and I thought for a minute she'd be interested in an old man like me, you might have some competition on your hands.”

An image of Stephanie's beautiful face projected on the screen of Rick's imagination, but he pushed the thought away. He might want to pursue it, but he couldn't think about romantic involvement with her. She had plans that didn't involve settling down with a cop. The best he could hope to give her was seeing Julian Hale put away for life, to give her the gift of never having to worry about a killer chasing her again. “Let's just go get our guy and forget about my love life for now, okay?”

“Fine,” Shelton said. “But will you take some advice from an old man?”

“Depends on the old man,” Rick joked.

“When you find the good one, you don't let her get away.” A faraway, wistful expression crossed Shelton's face.

She is “the good one,” but I can't ask her to give up her dreams for me.
Rick tapped the hood again with his fist. “It's a little late for that. She's leaving for Africa,” Rick said. He paused for effect. “She's going to be a missionary.”

“A missionary?” Shelton spit out air in disbelief. “With all your good looks and charm, you can't change her mind about that?”

Rick gave him a wary smile. “Not sure that I could or should try to change those kinds of plans even if I was able.”

Shelton answered with a small nod. “I suppose we can't get in the way of the Big Man upstairs.” He averted his eyes from Rick and shifted his weight. He didn't seem comfortable with the deep turn the conversation had taken. “Whatever you do, though, don't end up an old man and all alone like me, okay, kid? The job isn't worth that kind of price.”

A guard opened the jail door and asked, “Detective Shelton?”

“That's me.” Shelton shook the man's hand and then introduced Rick. “This is Officer Powell.”

The man smiled and offered Rick his hand next. “Adam Kerns. It's nice to meet you both.”

Rick shook and returned the grin. “Can't tell you how happy we will be to see Julian Hale in handcuffs. So who do we get to thank for catching our bad guy for us?”

Deputy Kerns smiled. “That would be me. I wanted to be here to meet you guys. I guess I know how that trooper in Oklahoma must have felt when he pulled over Timothy McVeigh. Sometimes we stumble on the bad guys without even looking.”

He grinned again. “I'll tell you what, that NCIC hit was quite a shock. Didn't see that coming.”

“I'm sure it was.” Rick could easily imagine the jolt of adrenaline seeing that warrant pop up on the computer screen would cause.

Kerns scanned the paperwork that Shelton had handed him. “This all looks good. Are you guys ready for him?”

“More than ready,” Rick answered.

The deputy spoke into his radio. Rick's fingers were in constant, anxious motion, drumming the air at his side. He heard a buzzer and then the
click
of an automatic lock opening. He strained his neck to peer around the guard to see clearly as another deputy guided a prisoner through the door.

Rick's eyes narrowed as he studied the prisoner. He guessed the man to be in his early fifties, about the same age as Shelton. But instead of the fitness and vigor of the running-addicted detective, this man was slouched over as he shuffled into the room. His face was haggard and unshaven, and under the gray stubble, the man's puffy face and yellow skin tone were those of a heavy drinker. Rick frowned, confused.

Shelton cocked his head as he addressed the guard. “Who's this?”

The new deputy answered him. “This is Julian Hale. Aren't you guys here to pick him up?”

Shelton swore and slapped the clipboard he was holding against his thighs.

Sweat beaded on Rick's neck.
No, no, no, no. Hale couldn't have played us again.
He shook his head and said, “There must be a mistake. This man is most definitely not Julian Hale.”

The prisoner's head popped up. The man's whole demeanor changed. He stood straight, color flowed into his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled with hope. “See! I've been telling you that all weekend,” the man told the guards. “It's not me they want.” He looked back and forth between Shelton and Rick, his eyes wide. “I tried to tell the judge but she wouldn't listen.”

“Who are you?” Shelton demanded, his nostrils flaring.

“I
am
Julian Hale. But not the Julian Hale that you want. Maybe there are two of us. All I know is I'm no killer. I'll admit all day long that I drink too much, and how stupid it was for me to get behind the wheel drunk, but I ain't never killed nobody, never. You've got to believe me.”

Shelton shoved the papers back at the deputies. “I appreciate your help,” he said. “But we're not taking custody of this man. He's not our guy.”

“But we found evidence in his car. His description was dead-on, and his Social Security number fit the NCIC hit,” Kerns demanded.

“That's your problem,” Shelton told the dumbstruck deputies standing next to the grinning prisoner.

Rick felt sick. Hale must have known about the other man who shared his name, a man with a bad habit for repeatedly drinking too much and then getting behind the wheel afterward. It was like Hale to have a contingency plan set up as decoy. How long had he been planning this? But the deputies had found incriminating evidence in the trunk of the wrong Julian's car. Hale would have had to plant that evidence in the trunk and then watch until the man started driving. After that it would only take a phone call complaining about a dangerous drunk driver on the road, and Hale would be able to play them once again.