Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (22 page)

"I know you did, Trudy. And I shouldn't be so impatient. We'll skip the cadences today and work on your recital piece."

As Trudy proceeded to butcher Beethoven's
Fur Elise,
Dee fought the urge to cover her ears and scream. Each wrong note rattled her frayed emotions.

She couldn't go on like this or she'd lose what little sanity she had left. Three weeks and a day had passed. Three weeks and a day of pure hell without a single glimpse of Matthew.

He'd taken a leave from the church to search for guidance, Mrs. Adams had said when she came for the rent. She'd kindly added that Matthew had spoken his heart in his parting address. He'd apologized for offending some members' moral fiber, but it wasn't in him to lie and say he was sorry for loving a woman and physically professing that love.

He had also confessed to misleading the congregation he'd been honored to serve, and explained the background that he'd omitted to mention before they welcomed him into their midst. The church, according to Mrs. Adams, had been very moved by his honesty and courage and insisted that he stay at the parsonage. Most missed him greatly. As for the colleague Matt asked the hiring board to give a try, the man was made of lesser stuff. He couldn't compete with Matthew's gift of delivering a meaningful sermon. And his interest in the needy was nonexistent.

It had taken Dee all of two weeks to realize that no one and nothing, including her fears, could compete with Matthew. He'd taught her a harsh yet loving lesson—only it hadn't sunk in until he was nowhere to be found.

Damn you, Matthew, damn you for leaving no matter what I said. I take back the month. Make it three weeks, make it today....

"Ms. Sampson? Ms. Sampson, did I do okay?"

Dee blinked, trying to focus on the little girl who had stopped playing.

"Yes, Trudy," she said. "Very good." Reaching for a small tin on top of the piano, Dee picked out two star-shaped stickers and put them on the music sheet. "There you go, an extra one for effort. Keep up the fine work and I'll see you next week."

Once Trudy was out the door, Dee went to her bedroom.

Her hand hovered over the phone. Matthew should be at the homeless shelter today. If she got through to him there, what would she say?

Maybe she should tell him that she was a wreck who'd rather trust his promises of protection than live alone with constant fear. Or she could play on his soft spot for two confused kids who were demanding answers. Why was Rev. Matthew gone? And why didn't God listen to their prayers and bring him back? It was her fault, and if they found out, they might never forgive her for taking away the best dad they'd ever had.

Dee took several deep breaths before lifting the receiver. She punched the number to the homeless shelter office.

He wasn't there. They expected him today, but he hadn't arrived. Could they take a message, since he'd surely be in no later than tomorrow? Yes, they'd tell him it was important and to call right away.

Dee frowned as she hung up. How strange for him to miss work; no one was more dependable than Matthew. She quickly phoned the parsonage. As she expected, she got an answering machine.

His voice rippled through her, his wonderful voice that brought all that had died inside her back to life.

Before she could leave a message, she was distracted by the sound of running feet and Loren and Jason's yelling.

"Dee! Dee! Where are you?
Dee!"

"Here. For pity's sake, what's wrong?"

Jason almost ran her down before she caught his shoulders.

"A man," he panted. "Following us, in a car."

"Sweet heaven," she whispered. "You're certain of it?"

Loren nodded. "But we cut down an alley and jumped some fences. He didn't see which house we went into. We made double sure."

Anxiety pumped through Dee. She couldn't seem to breathe. Why hadn't she listened to Matthew sooner? Had they already gotten to him? Was he hurt, or...

She couldn't think it or she'd be paralyzed.

Dee sent Jason and Loren from the room, then dialed the parsonage again and left a message for Matthew to pray for her soul. After hanging up, she lifted the end of her mattress. With cold, trembling hands, she pulled out the gun.

* * *

"Hear that, Reverend? She wants you to pray." Turning his attention from the parsonage answering machine, Vince laughed softly, then pointed the barrel of the pistol he held at Matthew. "Not a bad idea. You'd better pray she doesn't go to the police around here."

"I can handle the police, no problem." Nick drummed his fingers on a briefcase. "I've done my homework, gotten our legal contacts lined up. We can come down on Dee so hard no amount of praying will dig her out... unless you're feeling generous toward your brother?"

"We'll see."

Nick glared at Matthew, and Matthew fought the urge to cram his fist down the lawyer's throat. "So tell me, choirboy, how does she screw?"

"Like a virgin," he replied smoothly. "Thanks, Nicky. So thoughtful of you to ensure she was intact for me. Such a rare and memorable experience."

Nick lunged, but Vince caught him. "I'm suddenly feeling generous. Keep your cool and maybe instead of snuffing the bitch, I'll let you stash her at your place in Mexico."

"Over my dead body," Matthew said, his lips barely moving.

"We could arrange that easy," Vince said, chuckling. His smile was that of a gambler laying down the winning hand. "Just remember, do exactly what we tell you. One wrong move from you and Ms. Dee Sampson ends up in the morgue tonight."

Chapter 17

As the sun went down and night approached, Dee turned on all the lights, shut all the curtains, and checked the locks yet again before sitting on the couch where Jason and Loren huddled.

"I'm scared, Dee, really scared." Loren gripped her hand, and Dee squeezed it in reassurance.

"We'll be all right. If Matthew doesn't call by tomorrow, we'll report him missing." The uncertainty of his whereabouts had made up her mind to stay instead of taking to the highway. If only she knew how to get in touch with the friends Matthew had mentioned in his office.

At nine o'clock she sent the children to her bedroom with instructions to dial 911 at the first sound of trouble. At precisely ten o'clock a sharp knock sounded at the front door. Dee reached under the couch and clasped the gun in a hand so sweaty she feared the weapon might slide from her grip. For that reason she slid the gun into a pocket concealed by the generous folds of her peasant skirt.

"Who is it?" she demanded.

"Dee, it's Matthew. Open up."

"Matthew!" Dee flung the door open, but he stepped back from her outstretched hands. His eyes sent warning signals at the same time they relayed hunger for the sight of her.

"Got your message." His words were clipped. "Can I come in so we can talk?"

"Certainly." Her gaze darted outside, but she saw nothing unusual.

Matthew brushed past her, and she heard him say under his breath, "Act normal and do what I say."

He pressed her against the entry wall and kissed her. Dee felt his hand reach out and flick off the lights for the porch and entry. Why did he do that, she wondered as desire mixed with her rising apprehension.

Her ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the porch. Her senses went wild, and she could smell her own fear.

"Nice job. Reverend." It was Nick's voice. Bile was in Dee's throat as Matthew pulled away from her. The front door closed and the entry light came on. She saw Nick and Vince standing inside her house, smiling, their white teeth flashing in predatory grins. Then Vince was rushing past her. She wanted to stop him, but Nick was suddenly tracing her jaw with the cool metal of the silencer fitted on his revolver.

"How are you doing, Dee? Like a mental case, I missed you." She didn't give him the satisfaction of flinching. "Do me a favor? Be smart. I'd rather not visit you in the state pen or send flowers to your wake."

"And I'd rather rot behind bars or fertilize the ground than pick up where I left off with you."

Nick raised a brow. "If you give me a second chance, I could change your mind."

Dee looked at Matthew, filling herself with the sight of him, knowing she would agree to anything to protect him. "I suppose it's possible," she said, nearly gagging on the words. "Let him go and I'll see what I can do about getting over my grudge."

"Save the reunion, Nick," she heard Vince say behind her back. She whirled around and saw him clutching Jason with one arm, Loren with the other. The children turned wide, pleading eyes from her to Matthew. "Our driver is idling behind the house, and my kids are ready for a nice, quiet trip home. We even have sodas and everything they could want for the plane ride. We're going to have fun, right, kids?"

He sounded for all the world like a loving father, and Nick was smiling like an indulgent uncle.

"You won't hurt Rev. Matt, will you, Dad?" Jason asked. "Me and Loren, we'll be really good. We won't run away again so Aunt Dee won't have to come look for us. That's what happened, Dad. Honest. She got real mad at us and was going to bring us home, only we said if she tried, we'd run away where she couldn't find us."

"That's my boy," Vince said with pride. "Chip off the old block. You think fast on your feet. And just like I've taught you, you protect what's yours."

"But Rev. Matt—"

"Is staying behind, son. You see, he and your aunt had a falling out and won't be seeing each other again. But because he cares for you all so much, he's going to explain to your teachers and neighbors that your father was missing you and Aunt Dee decided it would be best to bring you back to your family. It was a sudden decision." The smile he flashed Matthew was chilling. "Right, Rev. Matt?"

"Right. How about a hug, kids, before you go? I'm sure going to miss you guys." He grasped Dee's arm and pulled her to him, while Jason and Loren rushed forward. The four of them gathered together tightly, a family being torn apart.

"Hurry it up," Vince snapped. "Our driver's waiting and we've already taken too long."

The lights went out. Dee felt Matthew shove them all to the floor, his weight on top of her.

"What the hell!" Vince shouted. "Nick, grab her. I'll get the kids. Jason! Loren! Where are you? Come back to your father, we have to get out.
Now!"

Shouts of "This way!" were coming from the back, and footsteps were running up the porch. Just as the front door crashed against the wall, Dee twisted beneath Matthew, trying to reach for her pistol.

Suddenly there was light. Dee blinked up at Matthew's face and saw his face flood with relief. But then she felt him stiffen. The cock of a trigger sounded at the base of his skull.

"Nobody moves, understand?" Nick's voice was shaky. "Put down your guns, gentlemen, nice and easy. Good, very good. Vince, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Vince answered. Dee turned her head and saw that he was holding ten men at gunpoint, their weapons in a pile at his feet.

"Jason, Loren, get up and go stand by your dad." Once they'd obeyed, crying again and again, "Don't shoot him, Uncle Nick, please don't shoot him," Nick booted Matt in the side, and Dee felt the pain as if she took the cruel kick herself. She inched her hand to her thigh.

"On your feet, Reverend, or you're getting a one-way ticket to heaven."

"Suits me," Matthew said steadily. "Go ahead and shoot. I'm not afraid to die."

"No," Dee cried out. "Do what he says."

"Do what the man says, Rev. Peters," one of the men ordered. "No need for killing around here. Better yet, why don't we strike a deal?"

"Keep your stinking deals," Vince growled. "C'mon, Nick, forget her. Let's go!"

"Get up," Nick barked at Matthew. "The lady's got a date with an old friend who's through waiting."

The lady found her gun and fired.

Epilogue