The Greatest Gift (4 page)

“I want to find them, too,” said Dennis, shaking his arm loose. “But you won’t find them pushing those around who can help you.”

“Prove to me you can help,” Hewitt shouted, kicking at the bin. “Show me that you are willing to help me, or I will make your life miserable here.”

Dennis smiled like he had done so often when consoling angry churchgoers. “And what good would that do, Hewitt?”

Hewitt took a few steps away. “I won’t sleep until I find Elizabeth Stewart. I don’t care about the religious babble you spout with your microphone every Sunday. You’re just like any Joe out there. With or without you, I will solve this case.”

Dennis sighed. “I know, but you’re going about it the wrong way. Do you realize where Michael has gone is someplace many have read about in history books but can never visit?”

“Don’t con me, Pastor,” Hewitt warned as he went back inside the church.

It was a busy evening at the Antonia Fortress. There was an order given to capture a rebel who had been spreading the news that the rabbi killed on the cross had risen from the dead. The reward was sizeable. There was a measure of disbelief among the soldiers preparing to spread out across the countryside to quell the blasphemous rumors. Despite this important edict handed down by his superiors, Titus ignored his orders.

Instead, he hid in the lower bowels of the prison and closed his eyes. He couldn’t avoid being noticed.

“Titus, you are to join the first army,” said Plavius, his superior officer. He kicked at his head. “Awake, you lazy fool. A Roman soldier should be prepared.”

“I am not well,” Titus said.

“Do not disobey my order or I will have you hung from the top walls of this prison.” Titus didn’t answer and instead gathered up his spear and put his helmet on as he joined the group. He walked behind them as they left the barracks and waited for an opportunity to escape. It came when he hid behind some brush.

Titus delayed several moments before peering out and then seized his opportunity. He raced the remaining steps back to the fortress and bribed the guards at the gate. He returned inside to find the soldiers were still sleeping.

He crept up the stairs until he came to the top floor where they agreed to meet and plan their attack. “Wake up, it is time for our hunt,” he said.

The four soldiers looked up and held out their hands.

“You will receive your silver when we kill the widow and drag her body back here for a showing,” said Titus.

He sharpened his spear for good measure against a wall, taking a moment to relish the sparks that flickered from the friction. “Wear your most defensive armor,” he demanded.

“Sir,” one of the soldiers said, “you talk about killing. I thought this was not a military mission.”

“Is the silver not enough for you?”

“I have no silver in my hands, sir,” the soldier said.

“You will get it when our mission is done,” Titus promised.

The tallest Roman stood up. “With respect, sir, I say this. This is not common among our orders. If this is not a military mission, I do not understand why we are bringing so many weapons to arrest the Jewish woman. We are taking her prisoner. Are we not?”

Titus glared, slamming his spear against the side of the prison wall. “I will decide whether it is my right to kill or keep her alive. A great Roman soldier is always prepared for the worst.”

The soldier gave him a puzzled look. “She is just a widow. Why is she so dangerous? Does she have weapons like us?”

Titus grabbed the soldier’s arm, twisting it backward. “What makes you think she is not dangerous?”

“She is just a Jew, a woman, a widow, a peasant.”

Titus released his grip and shouted, “Come with me. I will show you what they did to my brother, a Roman soldier.”

The soldier cowered in the corner.

“Let him be,” said Titus. “We do not need sheep in our flock.” He laughed and led the other three past several tall marble stanchions. “Over here,” he yelled. He gestured to the corner of the grounds. “My brother, your brother, a Roman who risked his life for us in many battles,” Titus said, kneeling. His brother lay in a decorated, well-cut casket. Marcus was clothed in the best attire and wore a helmet.

“Come closer,” said Titus, standing.

As the three surrounded the casket, Titus lifted up the center of Marcus’ vest and the soldiers gasped. “Tell me, my fellow Romans, do you now doubt my claim that my brother was murdered?”

“Vengeance will be ours,” he said as he covered Marcus back up. He turned and led the soldiers away. “Do not be deceived,” he added. “This could be a dangerous mission. The widow might have friends and neighbors to defend her. When we approach her home, look for any weapons and take them. Do not kill her. It will be my honor to do so.”

He guided them down the stairs into the basement. “Prepare,” Titus said. “Sharpen your weapons, drink plenty of water and get some sleep. We stay quiet about our mission. The only task another Roman needs to know about is our quest to aid a Jewish widow in the name of Marcus. There is no other reason to offer.”

Jax’s Bar was trimmed and decked out with holiday décor. Red and green ribbons hung on the high wooden beams protruding from the ceiling. Christmas lights dazzled and blinking patterns of fluorescent colors danced in rhythmic motions. A large tree, its lower branches bent from the weight of heavy ornaments, stood majestically in a nearby corner, inviting even the shyest patron to utilize the beauty for a photo op or selfie.

Susan sipped red wine while Connie preferred white. They drank as the speakers belted out “Twelve Days of Christmas.”

They watched a young couple slow dance to the next tune, Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” Connie watched the woman’s happy face for a brief moment and then looked away.

Susan smiled and recalled the evening she and Michael danced to Frank Sinatra’s version of “Silent Night” several Christmases ago. She took another sip of her wine and relished how it slid slowly down her throat, hugging her chest, warming her arms. She let her mind drift.

She remembered how Michael’s hand felt on hers, how they moved in unison, step by step, cheek to cheek, chest to chest. It was perfect. They were one. She took a deep breath to collect herself as she drank some more. It didn’t matter she and Connie weren’t talking. In fact, she was happy for the silence.
I’ll always have that night. No one can take it away from us. No one. Not my mom. Not Connie.

She finished the rest of her glass while Connie played with her cell phone, frantically pulling and pushing at the touch screen with her thumbs. She dropped it to the table and looked up at Susan.

“Now what?” Connie asked.

Susan shrugged, still smitten over the memory. “I guess we wait to hear from Pastor Dennis.”

“Come on, do you really believe what that kook said? It sounds like he’s off his rocker. Do you think the pastor and my brother planned this disappearance? I’m fine with that, but don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. I’d like to be in on it if this is what’s going on.”

“Pastor Dennis isn’t that way,” Susan said. “He’s an honest man. I’ve known him for a long time.”

Connie looked away. “Believe me, he’s not honest.”

“Believe whatever you want,” Susan said. “I’ve seen some strange things happen. What do you want? Evidence?”

“Yeah,” said Connie, with a sarcastic edge.

Susan leaned forward and pointed to her neck. “Look here.”

“So what?”

“Do you see any marks?”

“No.”

Susan leaned back in her chair. “Right. No marks. The car accident.”

“Oh, jeez. Here we go again with the dramatics.” Connie smiled. “Wow. You really have it bad for my brother. He’s got issues like the rest of us. Like you. Like – ”

“You?”

“Like the pastor, your honest man. If you only knew what he’s been hiding.”

Susan ordered another glass of wine, trying not to show she was intrigued by Connie’s remark.
Don’t sink to her level. She’s trying to pull you into her dirty pool of gossip.
The waitress returned with another glass of red wine. Susan took a long swig. “What’s he hiding?”
Ugh. I can’t believe I took the bait.

Connie drained the remainder of her wine and signaled for the waitress to return. “This stays between me and you,” she said. “Got it?”

Susan pushed her glass around in a small circle. “Sure.”

“The pastor was married several years ago.”

“I know.”

Connie looked around. “Let me finish.”

“So finish.”

“He had a drinking problem, so his wife took the two kids and left him. Demanded a divorce. He was such a mess he had no choice. They decided to settle this out of court to save money. The pastor and his ex agreed that she got the house and he kept his insurance policy. A big one too.”

“So? Isn’t that normal when people split up? They split the assets.”

“That wasn’t the strange part.”

Susan pushed her glass to the side. “Go on.”

“So instead of naming his kids on the insurance policy he named my niece as his beneficiary.”

“Elizabeth
?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know this?”

Connie gave her empty glass to the waitress. “Can I get another?” Then she put a couple of fingers over her lips. “My friend was the lawyer for his ex and gave me the info after he heard Elizabeth went missing.”

Susan shook her head, lifted the glass to her mouth and put it back down. She stared at Connie. “What does this mean?”

“It could mean a lot of things. It could mean maybe one of the pastor’s kids or the ex had something to do with Elizabeth’s disappearance.”

“Why don’t you go to the cops?”

“I can’t. Not yet. I have to think this over.”

“Why?” Susan asked.

“If word leaked out, my friend would lose his job and perhaps his partnership. I haven’t seen the document, either. I only know because he had a few in him one night and he told me.”

“This sounds crazy.”

“Oh, and my brother time traveling and talking to Jesus isn’t crazy?”

Susan winced. “I don’t know what’s crazy and what’s not.”

“Well, I know I’m not crazy. I might be the only one in this hick town who’s thinking rationally.”

“You have to go to the police with this.”

“Not until I’m sure. I need to find out a few things. I don’t want to come across as some crazy person. You saw what happened to that woman Allison.”

She looked from side to side to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “The pastor could be the only one who knows where my brother is. I don’t want to upset or anger him. If I find out he’s lying, I’ll go to the cops. I love my brother despite what you think.”

“I love him too,” Susan said.

The waitress returned with another glass of wine, and Connie took a big gulp. “Yeah, I know all about your love. What do you know about real love? If you loved him so much, why did you leave Northport? Women like you are a dime a dozen in this town. Maybe he wasn’t making enough money for your snooty lifestyle? Was that it?”

Susan smiled. “You are one pent up, frustrated woman, aren’t you? You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what’s in my heart, what Michael and I share, how much I care about him. You have your own issues, and the biggest one is you. You’re so bitter and lonely after your husband left you that you can’t be happy for anyone unless they’re miserable with you. I’m sorry you’re unhappy with your pathetic, lonely life.”

Susan took three quick sips of the wine, her eyes never leaving Connie’s. She released the top part of the glass before she could break it.

Connie drained her glass and stood. “I’m leaving.”

“Go ahead, go back to your big, fancy home with the high ceilings and chandeliers and the twenty big bedrooms. It must be so cold and lonely in that mansion of yours. How does it feel walking around all those empty rooms?”

Connie stopped and turned around. “I don’t live there anymore.”

“What happened? Did you relocate to the Taj Mahal?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but our house was a short sale. The only stinking rich person at this table is you. I’ve lost everything.”

Before Susan could think of a response, Connie continued. “Are you thrilled now that my wonderful life is as miserable as you say?”

Susan felt a surge of guilt. She drank the rest of her wine in three gulps. She stood. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave. We’re both worried about Michael. We both love him. Can we agree on that?”

Connie hesitated and took a few steps toward the front door. She stopped and walked back to the table and sat down.

“Another glass? It’s on me,” Susan said. “Let’s work on that list.”

“We’ll have to walk home if we do.”

“So we’ll walk off the calories.”

The waitress came by with two glasses. “Compliments of the gentleman over there.” The waitress pointed to a table beside the Christmas tree. The man in the familiar dark suit sat alone and raised a glass to them.

“Oh my,” Connie said.

“Oh no,” added Susan. “Now what?”

Hewitt Paul walked over, carrying his glass. “Hello, ladies. Mind if I join you?”

Connie and Susan didn’t answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Hewitt Paul sat straight up, his broad shoulders towering above Connie and Susan. His arms were folded. He smiled as Connie and Susan played with their cell phones and drank their wine. “Sally, another one for my friends,” he said, gesturing to the waitress passing by. “She’s such a fine waitress, isn’t she?” he asked.

Connie and Susan shrugged.

“Sally. You know her, don’t you?”

“Sorry, don’t know her,” Susan said. “Do you, Connie?”

“Nope.”

Sally placed a glass of wine in front of each woman.

“Put that on my tab,” Hewitt said with a wink.

“Will do, cowboy,” said Sally.

Hewitt tapped the table, startling the women. “So ladies, what brings you out here tonight?”

“We’re secret lovers and decided to come out in public to show our affection for each other,” said Connie before she took a sip.

Susan laughed. “You wish, sister.”

Hewitt grabbed a few pretzels from the untouched basket sitting on the table. He offered the snack to them.

“I’m on a diet,
cowboy
,” Connie said, rolling her eyes.

“I hope you’re not driving tonight,” Hewitt said.

“No. We aren’t. We’re walking,” said Susan.

“Is that against the law,
cowboy
?” Connie asked.

“I’m glad to hear you aren’t on the road tonight. I’d hate to write you up with a DUI.”

“Isn’t that a cop’s job?” Connie asked.

“It is. But I like to help out. Don’t you like to help out in your community?”

“Depends on what it is,” Connie said as Susan continued to sip her wine.

The lights dimmed inside the bar as the hour passed midnight. The room was still buzzing from chatter as late-night shoppers stopped by for the evening revelry. Susan’s vision was fuzzy.
I hope Connie keeps her mouth shut about the pastor. We have to get out of here.

They made small chitchat about the weather. As both finished their drinks, Connie motioned to Susan to join her in the bathroom. “Excuse me, Hewitt
,
” said Susan. “Need to powder my nose.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I just have a few questions about your relationship with Michael.”

She waved her hands in the air. “There was no relationship.”

“Not what I heard.”

“Susan,” Connie called from the far side of the room. “Are you coming?”

Hewitt stood as Susan stumbled into a chair. “Oops.”

“Do you need help?” Hewitt asked.

Susan put up her hand and waved him off.

Once inside the restroom, Connie shut the door. “All right, what’s his angle?”

“Angle?”

“You think he’s looking to take one of us home?”

“What?”

Connie pushed hard against the door to prevent anyone from entering. “It’s how these guys do their work. Ply the woman with liquor, take her to bed and extract info from them. Don’t you go to the movies?”

Susan moved past her and went into a stall. “Um, no. I think you’ve seen too many movies.”

Connie paced back and forth for several minutes. “Are you done, yet?” she asked.

“Cool your jets. I drank a lot.”

They both heard a thump as something struck the door. Then there was a rapping sound. “Hey, are you ladies in there?” Hewitt asked.

“Yes. Go away. Give us some privacy. We need two more minutes.” Connie locked the door. “Hurry, Susan. Cowboy is waiting.”

“I’m hurrying. Jeez.” She emerged from the stall. Her blouse hung over her jeans and her hair was ruffled. She looked into the mirror. “Hey Connie, do you think I’m fetching?” Susan laughed.

“Knock it off.”

“How is … is it … you … don’t seem … like me?”

“You mean, like drunk?”

“Yuppers.”

“I took one of those anti-alcohol pills before we started drinking.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’ve got to get out of here. You’ve had way too much to drink. Who knows what you will say to this guy.”

“Okie dokey,” said Susan as she unlocked the door.

“No,” shouted Connie, slamming it shut, then locking it.

“What’s wrong, ladies?” Hewitt asked.

“We have to leave,” Susan said.

“Yes, but not that way.” Connie went to the lone window and pulled it up. A cold breeze brushed through the room.

“Whoa,” Connie said.

“Are you expecting me to climb down a couple of floors?”

“It’s only two,” Connie said. “I’ll go first and catch you if needed.”

“Catch me?” asked Susan. “Are you expecting me to fall? Oh no, I’m not going through that window.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re as light as a feather compared to me. I’ll have no problem catching you. Take my coat and purse. Throw them down when I tell you.”

Connie slid through the window, her feet dangling until she landed on the fire escape platform. “See, no problem,” she said, holding a thumb up. As she turned, her blouse caught on the metal railing. “Oh, great.” She twisted back toward the window and pulled at the knot. “Terrific. I just bought this blouse on sale at Macy’s. One day and I can’t even get it off when I need to.”

A ripping sound caused Susan to giggle.

“Oh, joy,” Connie said, looking down at her torn blouse.

“Well, looks like the
cowboy
will want you.”

“Shut up,” Connie said. “Wait until I’m on the ground before you start down.”

She staggered down the fire escape to the last step, some ten feet off the ground. “Here goes.” She let go and her heels crumbled. Her backside met the cold ground. “Ouch.”

“Are you all right?” Susan asked, peering out the window.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Throw me the coats and purses.”

“Wheeee. Here they come.”

Connie set them aside against the wall. “Hurry.”

“Cool your jets. I’m coming.” Her legs came first, and a shoe fell, tumbling to the sidewalk. “Did you get it?”

“Forget the shoe,” Connie yelled.

“I love that shoe.”

“Stop yakking.”

Susan made it to the last step and looked down. “Oh, I think I’m going to get sick. That’s a big jump.”

“Stop being a baby. Let go.”

“Can you catch me?”

“I’ll catch you.”

“Are you sure?”

Connie grimaced. “I’m sure.”

“Count to three.”

“Oh, Lord. One, two.”

Susan let go and fell on top of Connie.

“Three.”

“Well, that wasn’t so hard,” Susan said.

“For you.”

Susan laughed. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.”

They both lay there for a few seconds and laughed. “I guess we’re friends now?” Susan asked.

“Frenemies is more like it. Can you get off of me?”

“I’ll help you with that.” A strong arm lifted them both off the ground.

“Oh hi, Hewitt,” Susan said.

“Where are you ladies going?”