Remember Tuesday Morning (23 page)

In a frantic voice, she told the operator who she was, where she worked, and that she was up at the model house in Oak Canyon Estates by herself. “I think I heard gunshots, and now someone’s driving up the private road. It sounds like they’re coming very fast.”

The operator promised to dispatch a deputy. “Stay put, and call back if anything else happens.”

As soon as Holly hung up, the car came into view. It peeled up the hill and onto the paved street. Without hesitating, the car made a sharp right turn and sped toward the far end of the street.

Holly’s heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. She hadn’t been able to make out the model or color of the car, let alone a license plate. But what could the people in the car be up to? And why wasn’t Michael answering at the gate? Michael should’ve stopped them, and if he’d run into trouble, he should’ve called 9-1-1. So what was happening? A gust of wind blew against the house. Were the threats coming to fruition? Were the people in the car about to set fire to the development?

She dialed 9-1-1 again, and this time she spoke in a terrified whisper. “Someone’s come up the hill, driving very fast. I can’t reach the guard station. I think something very bad is about to happen.”

Not until after she hung up did she smell something strange wafting in through the one open window. It wasn’t a construction smell — roofing tar or paint or carpet. Rather, this was a smell that paralyzed her with fear.

It was the smell of kerosene.

T
WENTY
-F
OUR

L
inda Brady couldn’t sleep. Yesterday around this time, Alex had called her to apologize. The best she could make of his call was that God had been working on his heart. He didn’t mention the Lord or what had driven him to call her number in the wee hours of the morning, but in his voice she heard a remorse that hadn’t been there since before the terrorist attacks.

God must be answering her prayers.

Now she should’ve been sound asleep. Alex hadn’t called again, and no real reason remained for her to be up alone, wandering through the living room looking at old photographs. Her husband Lee was asleep in their bedroom, and already her restlessness had woken him once. He was concerned for her, aware of the situation with Alex, the way that only now – after seven years – he was finally showing signs of returning to the young man he’d once been.

“Everything okay?” he’d asked her an hour ago. He sat up in bed, half awake, his forehead creased with worry.

“Fine.” She smiled at him, grateful for him. “I can’t sleep. I’ll be out in the living room.”

Since then she’d read the Bible and straightened the office. The sun would be up soon, but still she couldn’t sleep. She looked over the framed pictures that sat on various shelves and hung on the wall in the living room — photos that reminded her of the old days, pictures that kept her company when Lee was at work and she wanted to reminisce.

Alex as an eight-year-old at work with Ben, both of them wearing the FDNY helmets and sitting in the front seat of a fire truck. A family portrait of the three of them when Alex was fifteen. Ben and Alex fishing in the Adirondacks when he was three years old, and another one when Alex was a high school sophomore. Lee didn’t mind the photos. He had a past too, a wife who’d been killed in a car accident the summer after the terrorist attacks. Photos were an important part of the healing process, he’d told her.

So the pictures remained.

Linda moved to the window and looked out over Central Park. Their apartment was on the twenty-first floor, and contained an unbelievable view. Lee bought the place the year before they were married, and it suited both of them. She exhaled and her breath left a circle of condensation on the window.

What was it? Why couldn’t she get Alex out of her mind? She watched a single cab make its way down Park Avenue and turn at the first light. Maybe it was his apology from yesterday, a strange and joyful piece still trying to fit in the puzzle of her heart. Hearing him yesterday was like getting a trip back to September 10, when Alex was a happy, carefree teenager whose greatest worry was whether he’d passed his chemistry test. Maybe that was it. The way he’d sounded yesterday had given her hope that she might actually get him back, that he could finally let go of the hurt and pain, the desire to make everything right for his father’s sake. Maybe he was about to do what he hadn’t done since the Twin Towers came down.

Learn to love again.

She lifted her eyes to the full moon hanging just over the park. If he was close to tearing those walls down, then no wonder God had her walking the quiet apartment tonight. She needed to pray. With that she fell into a familiar routine, asking God for her son’s emotional healing and for his physical protection.
Keep him safe, God … his job is so dangerous that any day … any day could be his last. So guard him, protect him because he seems closer than ever to finding his way back. Keep knocking on his heart so that soon — maybe even tonight — he might turn and trust You again. Please, Lord …

A verse filled her heart and soul as soon as she finished that part of her prayer.
Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old he will not depart from it.
It was a promise, one Linda had thought about often in the years since 9/11. But here, in the sacred moment of deep conversation with God, the words almost seemed like an answer. She and Ben had done what God asked of them to the best of their ability. They had trained him up in the way he should go. Now she would pray all night that the rest of the promise would come true, that Alex might return to those ways.

Now, before it was too late.

The call came in just before three in the morning, and Jamie opened her eyes in time to see Clay swing his legs out of bed and snap open his phone. She sat partway up, giving her eyes time to focus. The wind whipped against the house outside, and Jamie felt a chill run down her arms.

Clay listened intently to the caller for a few seconds and then flicked on the light next to his side of the bed. “I know the place. Are the hills burning yet?” He waited a beat. “Okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Jamie didn’t need Clay to tell her what had happened. He was on call for this very reason — in case there was another fire. The department hadn’t received word of more threats from the REA, but this was the sort of night the ecoterrorists liked. A plan was already in place. If another arson fire was set in the hills, SWAT members would go to the scene immediately — to keep order, aid in the evacuation, and help pursue the suspects.

Clay was already at the closet, pulling his uniform off the hanger and slipping into the olive green shirt.

“Where is it?” Jamie couldn’t shake the cold feeling surrounding her. The wind was warm, and even at this hour she doubted the temperature had dipped below eighty degrees. Even so she felt a chill in the room, and she pulled the down comforter up around her shoulders. “Oak Canyon Estates.” He slipped on his uniform pants and gave her a knowing look. “The place Alex warned us about.”

“It’s close. A couple of SWAT guys live a few miles from there, right?”

“Right. We might have a chance to catch them. There’s no sign of fire yet. The call came from a woman who works at the estates. She was in the office late when she heard gunshots and saw a car speed up and head for the north end of the development. She called us again when she smelled kerosene.”

Jamie’s head began to spin. “A woman?” She was more awake now than before, as suddenly the details lined up and she gasped. “Clay, that’s where she works!”

He was getting into his bulletproof vest now, fastening it and checking the pockets, making sure he had his guns. “Who?”

“The girl. Holly Brooks. The one Alex was in love with before 9/11.”

Clay stopped and stared at her. “Alex’s old girlfriend works at the Oak Canyon Estates?”

“Yes. She has an office all to herself up there.” Jamie smoothed her dark hair and tried to process the information. “The call had to come from her.”

“Dispatch thinks she’s still up there. They advised a rescue could be necessary.”

Jamie brought her hand to her mouth. “Go, Clay. Get her out of there.” She went to him, circling her arms around his neck. “Be safe.” She kissed him and let her lips linger on his a few seconds longer than usual. “I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be.” They kissed once more. “Pray. God will lead us, Jamie. I already asked Him.”

She didn’t state the obvious, that Jake also had asked God to lead him, but that time the place where God had led was Heaven. On any given call, that could be true for Clay too. She released him and folded her arms around her chest, still trying to get warm. “I’m praying already. Call me if you get a chance.”

He smiled once more at her, then left, running from the room, down the stairs, and along the hallway to the garage. A minute later she heard his car leave the garage and peel down the street.

God … something big is about to happen, something big and very bad. Please protect Clay and the guys, and protect Holly Brooks.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you … Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid …

Jamie stopped shivering. God had heard her; He was with her. Slowly she made her way back to bed and crawled beneath the blankets. The peace of God was stronger than any pill or therapist, more effective than anything she might’ve found in a bottle or an exercise program. Her body began to relax and warmth came over her. There was reason for concern, no question. But with God’s great peace inside her, she had survived before, and she would survive again — whatever the night brought.

She was about to settle back down when an idea hit her. She should call Alex and tell him about the fire, about Holly working at the estates, and that she was possibly trapped on the hillside. Certainly, Alex would want to know. She reached for her cell phone on the table next to her side of the bed and found his number. Then, without waiting another moment, she dialed it.

Two rings … three … four. The answering machine picked up. “This is Alex … leave a message.”

Jamie wasn’t sure what to say, whether she should tell him about the fire, or about Holly, or neither. She hung up without saying anything and as she did, she prayed again, asking God to help the SWAT guys catch the arsonists and the firefighters stop the fire before houses or lives were in danger. But she also prayed that God would be with Alex Brady, who — if he knew about the fire — would’ve been the first on the scene.

For better or worse.

Alex had only been awake for a few minutes, but already he and Bo were in his Dodge, headed as fast as they could for the Oak Canyon Estates. Normally he didn’t sleep with the police scanner in his room, because he would never get any sleep. But tonight, with the winds stronger than they’d been yesterday, he’d had two choices. Stay parked where he could watch the traffic up to the estates, or sleep with the radio in his room.

He missed the first few words of the call, but by the time the dispatcher got to the part about Oak Canyon Estates, Alex was up and getting dressed. He made the call to headquarters that he was putting in an overtime shift and responding to the possible fire at the estates. As part of the task force, that much would’ve been expected of him. He considered leaving Bo at home. His dog had worked a lot lately, and rest was important for any service animal.

But Bo stayed at his side while he got dressed and as he headed for his truck, and when he reached for the door that led to the garage, Bo gave a single bark. His look was unmistakable.
Don’t go without me.
Alex gave his head a quick pat. “All right, boy. Come on.”

They were backing out of the garage when he checked his iPhone and realized he’d missed a call from Jamie Michaels. She must’ve been calling about the fire. Either way he’d have to call her back later. He needed all his focus on the job ahead — whatever that job was.

Dispatch had said something about a possible rescue, that the woman who had reported the situation at the estates was still in her office — an employee of the developer. Alex pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal. This was one time when he didn’t want his squad car. The Dodge would take him wherever he needed to go — including off-road. With all the warning he and the department had been given about this moment, Alex couldn’t live with himself if someone died.

He was already on the freeway, minutes from the scene. The wind gusted against his truck, forcing him to steady the wheel. No traffic stood in the way, so he picked up speed again, blazing toward the exit.

His thoughts swirled in his head, blurring together and rushing at him from all sides. The verse from Clay —
There is a way that seems right to man, but in the end it leads only to death …
and the other thing — how God didn’t intend for people to eliminate the evil in the world, but to surrender their lives to Him in order to combat the evil within themselves. In the dark of night, with the wind howling outside, the thoughts surrounded him and mixed with his father’s words, the ones captured in Jake’s journal, that there would be trouble in this world, but Jesus had overcome the world.