Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (15 page)

“
Mr. Molinsky!”

“
It’s no big deal. They said it was a muscle spasm.”

“
Thank God. You should have called me—”

“
Before the lecture starts, listen to me. For you and Chad only, Shannon left home early Saturday morning. She left a note for her mother, and we don’t know where she is, or who she’s with.”

“
I knew it. I knew something else was going on. I just couldn’t believe you were that upset over some computers being stolen.” Then she gasped. “And Mrs. Molinsky, bless her heart, so soon after your son.”

“
Yeah, I don’t know how much more Bobbi can handle. Jack found out who helped Shannon leave, and I’m on my way to talk to him now.”

“
We’ll be praying you find her. Don’t give us another thought, though. We can cover everything.”

“
I know,” Chuck said. “You should give yourself a raise.”

“
As soon as you approve the new budget.”

“
Leave it on my desk, on top of everything.”

* * *

Chuck clutched the notepaper with the scribbled address for Dylan Snider’s house against the steering wheel. Stay calm and matter-of-fact. Never let the kid know how desperately he needed his help. Bobbi begged him to bring Joel. He was rational and reasonable, she said. Chuck couldn’t argue with that, but he had to do this by himself. Besides, if he did lose it, he didn’t want anyone here to see it.

Before he double-checked the paper, he knew it had to be the big house at the end of the cul-de-sac. It all made sense. The spoiled brat who’d never heard the word no painted a glorious picture for Shannon.
Your parents are the problem. Ditch the parents, and everything will work out.
And she was vulnerable enough to soak it all in.

He wheeled his car around before he parked, in case he needed to make a quick exit. Before he got out, he took a deep breath and whispered a prayer for a level head, for a restrained temper, and most of all, for help bringing Shannon home today. Bobbi and Jack were praying. He knew Christine would be, too. God had to hear one of them.

He left the car unlocked and walked the long sidewalk up to the porch. The air conditioner hummed, but no other sounds came from the house. Surely, somebody was awake. Somebody in there had to have a job to be able to afford the house.

Chuck rang the doorbell and a full fifteen minutes later, a bleary-eyed man in his early forties opened the door. He raised his hand as a shade from the morning sunshine. “This better be important.”

Buddy, you don’t know . . .

“
My name is Chuck Molinsky. My daughter is missing, and I know your son has talked with her in the last few days. I want to talk to him.”

“
I don’t even know if he’s home.”

“
Where else would he be?”

“
How should I know? I don’t keep up with him.” He leaned out the door slightly. “His car’s here. Hang on.” The man disappeared inside the house. Another fifteen minutes later, Dylan stepped out onto the porch, dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt and shorts. Chuck guessed he’d slept in them.

“
Dylan, I’m Shannon’s father. She’s disappeared, and I know you’ve talked to her recently.”

“
Did Jack send you over here?”

“
Jack?” Chuck played dumb, letting Dylan believe he’d gotten away with punching Jack. “I’m here about Shannon. Where is she?”

“
Like you care.” Dylan smirked and crossed his arms across his chest, flexing his biceps.

Chuck wasn’t impressed.
Don’t let him bait you.
He fixed his eyes on Dylan’s and never moved.

“
Well, I don’t know where she is.”

“
You were with her Saturday.”

“
You can’t prove that.”

“
Don’t press me, boy.” Chuck felt a flash of heat move from his neck across his face.

“
What? You want to yell at her some more? Is that it?” Dylan leaned back against the door, dropping his hands to his hips. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“
So you put her up to leaving home?”

“
She called me because she knew I would help her. Because I didn’t judge her. Unlike you.”

“
You didn’t help her.”

“
I helped her become a woman.”

The part of Chuck’s brain that comprehended that statement refused to let the information out. “What?”

Dylan looked Chuck in the eyes, his mouth curling into a malicious grin. “I said, Shannon’s a woman now.” Chuck felt the punk’s breath as he leaned in closer. “And you know what else? She liked it. She begged me—”

In a flash, Chuck had Dylan by the shirt and slammed him up against the house face first, pinning Dylan’s arm behind him. “You shut your filthy mouth.” Dylan squirmed, trying to work himself free, but Chuck wrenched his arm even tighter. “You’ve never dealt with a father who cares about his children. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“
Don’t threaten me, old man. I’m not afraid of you.”

“
It’s not me you have to worry about.” Chuck shoved Dylan away and walked off the porch.

“
Who are you talking about?” Dylan asked, but Chuck ignored him. “Crazy old man,” he muttered, adjusting his shirt.

Chuck sprayed gravel as he tore out of the neighborhood. “God, forgive me, I wanted to kill him right there.” Angry tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Dear God, he’s lying. Please, he’s gotta be lying. Father, You take up for Shannon and avenge her.”

For a long time Chuck drove, unaware of distance or direction. His pulse throbbed in his neck, and his grip on the steering wheel never relaxed in spite of the extra driving. He had to calm down before he faced Bobbi. He knew she was pacing by now, worrying, or even worse, she’d be expecting Shannon to be with him because of the delay.

He couldn’t face her. This was so much deeper than fury and heartsickness. This was retribution for things he had done. Payback in kind. Things . . . things Bobbi didn’t know, things he never even told Phil Shannon. And his daughter was paying for his sin. He’d rather have a curse.

Bobbi met him in the entry hall. “What did you find out? Where is she?”

“
He wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m sorry.”

She dropped her eyes, bit her bottom lip, then scuffed back toward the kitchen, her shoulders drooping.

He couldn’t tell her the rest of it. Not now. Give her something to cling to. He jogged to catch her. “Honey, he’s not our only option.”

She dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and rubbed her temples. “You know what? I’m tired. I’m tired of people telling me how sorry they are.”

“
And I would have given anything not to come home empty-handed.” He pulled a chair over close to hers, and as soon as he touched her hand the floodgates opened. He lay over on the table and shook with sobs. He could hear Bobbi call his name. He could feel her hand on his back, a gentle kiss on his neck and a whisper in his ear. He didn’t deserve her compassion, but he didn’t have the strength to pull away from her.

“
Calm down,” she whispered. “It’s not you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it . . .”

“
No . . . Bobbi . . . there’s . . . we need to talk.”

“
I’m listening.”

He nodded then pushed back from the table and staggered to the kitchen sink to splash water in his face. He yanked a paper towel from the roll then forced himself to face his wife. “You said Shannon was ashamed to come home.”

“
That’s what she told Katelyn.” Then Bobbi raised a hand to her mouth and tears brimmed in her eyes. “That boy.”

Chuck could only nod. “But . . . Bobbi . . . this . . . When I was in college, there was a girl, and God help me, I don’t even remember her name. Cute girl, and . . . just a good person. Went to church. We went out a couple of times.”

“
All that’s in the past. I don’t care—”

“
Bobbi, I stole that girl’s virginity! She gave me a boundary, and I violated it.”

“
Chuck, what are you saying? Did that boy . . . ? Because if he hurt Shannon . . .”

He shook his head. “Shannon was emotionally compromised, Bobbi. That’s where it starts, and that’s my fault. She was hurt and angry at me. And now it’s payback time for what I did to that girl, and to her father.”

“
Not that idiotic curse again!”

“
Not exactly, but—”

“
There’s no connection. The only curse you’re living with is guilt and bad memories.”

He shook his head. “It’s all coming back. I intentionally . . . She told me ‘no,’ and I . . . and now Shannon’s paying for it.”

Bobbi slipped her arms around his neck, held him while tears silently trailed down both their cheeks. “It’s been paid for,” she whispered at last.

Chuck blew out a long, deep breath and raised his head. She was right. She had a gift for finding redemption, tracing the hand of God back to His heart. Even in the midst of her own maelstrom, she could find the anchor he needed. He squeezed her hand and gently kissed her. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for several long minutes, then she leaned back and gazed across the room at nothing in particular. “I’ve been thinking . . . I’m going to take my retirement.”

“
Retirement? But Bobbi—”

“
I don’t feel like teaching. The thoughts of trying to get everything ready . . . I just can’t.”

“
I understand you don’t feel like teaching right now, but by August all that may change.”

“
Is Shannon coming home before August?”

“
Surely—”

“
But we don’t know.”

“
No.”

“
Then I’m retiring.”

Chapter 10

Languor

Thursday, July 10

Bobbi had already used a day’s worth of energy showering, but she still had to get dressed and get moving for a ten thirty appointment. Shannon was officially a missing person now. However, that meant most folks expected her to get on with her life. As if there could be a normal, natural routine without her daughter.

In the four weeks since she’d lost Brad, the chance for justice faded daily. Detective Ramirez gave Chuck details of all their efforts, the dozens of people they had interviewed, but in a neighborhood where distrust of the police ran high, he didn’t get much. He held out hope that Brad’s character and reputation would be enough to get someone to step forward with some crucial piece of information. Translation—they had no chance of finding and catching Brad’s killer.

When her second attempt to button her blouse left her shirttails uneven again, she gave up and pulled a sleeveless cotton sweater from her drawer. This appointment wasn’t critical. It was just a mammogram. Easily rescheduled. But then Chuck would give her that look—the disapproving but worried one—and start hovering.

He gave her that look this morning when she put him off about their anniversary. Thirty-eight years, and he wanted to go celebrate. Celebrate. Now. Honestly.

The clock on her nightstand showed five after ten. If she was going, she had to leave now.
Get it over with.
She checked her hair one last time, then turned out the light and headed downstairs.

Jack stood in the entry hall, waiting for her. “Mom, I’d like to take you to lunch today for your anniversary.”

“
Thanks, but I’m not in the mood for celebrating.”

“
Okay then, can I take you out to lunch because I don’t have to go to work today?”

“
Jack . . .”

“
I need to talk to you. Please?”

“
But I’ve got this appointment.”

“
Fine,” he said. “I’ll drive you, then we’ll go eat.”

“
You’re determined, aren’t you?”

“
Yep, besides that, all the women at the mammogram place will think I’m cute.” Jack grinned and adjusted his Cardinals hat.

“
They’ll be absolutely right about that.” At least Jack finally sounded like his old self again. Maybe there was hope. She fished her keys from her purse. “Here. We’ll take my car.” She couldn’t ride in Brad’s car.

“
You have to get these every year?” Jack unlocked the passenger side door of her car.

“
Since I was thirty.” Bobbi slumped in the seat. “Because of my mother.”

“
She was really young, wasn’t she?”

“
Diagnosed at thirty-nine, and she lived another . . . almost three years.”

Jack pushed her door closed, then rounded the car and got in. “Well, I’m glad you stay on top of it.”

“
Yeah,” Bobbi muttered.

Once the test was finished, she found Jack in a corner of the waiting area with a magazine. “You’re something else,” she said, tapping his knee.

“
What? It was a
Sports
Illustrated
, and I’m all caught up on spring training camps now.”

“
Spring training was three months ago, wasn’t it?”