Everybody's Daughter (22 page)

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, let’s get a look at that book. We may see something he hasn’t.”

“Good idea. But there’s more. The cops found blood in my car.”

“Whose blood?”

“I don’t know.”

He explained Detective Brady’s suspicions.

“You’ve had a horrendous day,” she said, her eyes sad. “I feel helpless right now.” She went to him. “We don’t know if anything bad has happened to Elizabeth. Stay positive. Okay?”

He nodded. “I need to find a way back somehow. Even if I have to dig my way back.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Not tonight. Get some rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll do everything we can to figure this out.”

Susan’s tone was reassuring, enough to relax him for a few moments.

“I could use something stronger than water,” he said. “Want to join me?”

“You’re on.”

They moved to the living room where he opened a bottle of wine, sat and rocked in his chair, chatting idly with her. She talked about her new job and friends. When she told him there was no one special in her life, he was relieved though not sure what to do about it.

He glanced at the clock. Four a.m. “You must be wiped.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She stood and went to the hallway. “I’m going to go and bring in my overnight bag from the car.”

“I’ll get some fresh sheets for the bed.”

She waved her hand. “No need. I’ll sleep on the couch. You go upstairs.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Then I’ll stay up with you.”

Michael smiled and wondered what had held him back from taking their friendship to a different level – a romantic one. He admired the way Susan greeted life with energy and enthusiasm. She walked in this world in a vibrant and positive light.

Perhaps she reminded him too much of Vicki?

She joined him in the living room and put her suitcase on the floor.

“Elizabeth missed you when you moved,” he said.

“I know.”

“How?”

“I got her emails.”

“Oh.”

He put his glass down. His heart ached at the mention of his daughter’s feelings. Elizabeth was fond of Susan and encouraged her father to be more than friends. “When you left there was a big hole in my life.” He was surprised to hear himself speak those heartfelt words. Maybe it was the wine or the emotional turmoil he was enduring. It didn’t matter. It was how he truly felt.

He gathered the empty wine glasses before he said anything more, fearful again of getting too close to another woman.

As he retreated to the kitchen with the glasses, Susan put her hand on his arm to stop him. “I really do care about you,” she said. “I worry about you every day.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I needed a change.”

“A change from what?”

“From being disappointed.”

His chest tightened. “Did I disappoint you?”

“My therapist told me when a situation gets stuck in neutral for a long time, you have to make some changes.”

“Oh great. I drove you to the couch.”

He put the glasses on the coffee table and pulled her in for a tight hug. She rubbed his back and he enjoyed the warmth of her body. “Did I push you away and make you run?”

She squeezed his upper arm. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Michael let out a deep, sorrowful sigh.

She stepped back to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.”

“That’s understandable. You’re terrified for your daughter.”

He pulled away slightly. Her gaze melted his vulnerabilities.
She’s so beautiful I want to kiss her but I can’t.

The decision was taken out of his hands.

She pulled his head down and kissed him, a soft, tender meeting of the lips that mended part of his broken heart, giving it a moment’s reprieve from sadness.

He pulled her closer, thankful for her decisiveness, and deepened the kiss.

“You cannot go home.” Sarah ran, catching up to Leah. “That soldier is still alive. He will not show you any mercy. You should have killed him when you had a chance.”

“Has there not been enough killing?” Leah quickened her pace. “When shall it stop?”

“I do not know. But I do know you are not safe with him alive. You have to find a place far away.”

“Where shall I go?” Leah stopped and waved her hand toward the rolling hills surrounding her town. “How far should I run? Do I run over there?” she asked, pointing to the farthest mountain. “Or there?” she asked, gesturing to the sea in the distance. “If I kill him, will the other soldiers not seek revenge on my brother and his family? Then what happens? Do others avenge their children and then later their children’s children?”

Sarah touched Leah’s shoulder. “Go be with your brother.”

“Then he will not be safe.”

“That is why you should have killed the soldier.”

“What about our faith? What we pray for every day we are in the Temple? The Ten Commandments. Thou shall not kill. Are we a people of our word and faith or not?”

Sarah walked ahead of Leah and stood in front of her. “What good will our prayers do if we are dead?”

“Then go.” Leah stepped around her and continued walking. “You have helped me and I will always be grateful, but I cannot bear to lose you and your husband too.”

Jeremiah chased down the women and put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Leah, come with us. We will keep each other safe.”

“No, it is not safe if I am with you. It is best you find refuge far away from here.” Leah swung her arms as she walked without fear.

“We are going to get some of our belongings and then we will go visit relatives,” Jeremiah said. “Maybe someday we can return. If you change your mind, come by quickly.”

Leah smiled and placed her hand on Jeremiah’s face. “You are a good man. Sarah is blessed.” She hugged them both. “Take care of each other. I will miss you. I will never forget what you did for me and Elizabeth.”

They embraced each other one last time.

“We will walk you to your house to make sure you are safe,” Sarah said.

“It is fine. Go and pack so you can leave. I am not going home right away.”

“Where are you going?” asked Jeremiah.

Leah pointed to a neighborhood to the right of her town. “I will go to Yochanan’s brother’s house. He might know someone who can help me.”

Leah continued, veering into a cluster of dirty, gray and white stoned houses. The neighborhood was alive with children, splashing in the puddles left by the rain, playing chasing games as the women caught the water dripping off the roofs with their buckets.

Leah stopped at the front door of her brother-in-law’s humble home. “Calev, are you home?” She waited before calling out again. “Calev?”

“Who is here?” a woman answered.

“I need to see your husband.”

A woman stepped outside, her hands on her hips. “What brings you here? Now?”

“Mira, I need his help.”

“Why?”

“I am in danger.”

“From who?”

Leah grimaced. “The Roman.”

Mira narrowed her eyes. “Your husband?”

Leah bit back an angry retort. “He is
not
my husband.”

Mira folded her arms. “Can he not give you everything you desire?”

“He beats me.”

Mira sneered. “So be nicer to him.”

“Let me in.” Leah pushed past her, entering the house. She showed her a bruise on the side of her face. Mira touched the mark and Leah flinched.

“Cook him a nice meal,” Mira said. “Take care of him and he will not hit you.”

“No more.” Leah’s shoulders straightened as she held her head high. “Where is Calev?”

“He is not here. He cannot help you.” Mira raised voice. “What can Calev do against a Roman? They will hurt or kill him too like they did to his brother. Can you not understand this?”

“I need him to speak to his friend at the prison where Marcus works.”

She shook her head. “Leah, he was killed shortly after your friend and his daughter were here.

“What happened?”

“Calev loves you. He knew of the danger you were in.” She wiped the sweat off her brow. “Against my wishes, he asked his friend to talk to that Roman. When Calev went back the next sunrise to see what happened, he was told the soldier killed him for interfering.”

Leah stepped outside in a daze as a soft rain wept from the heavens, dampening her hair, the moisture intermingling with her tears. She leaned against the side of the house, defeated. She summoned her last bit of spirit and forced herself to head back home. Once there, she removed her wet clothes, oblivious to the bruises stinging from the beating on the hill. After clothing herself with dry garments, she climbed the ladder and sat in front of a dinner mat.

I should have insisted Elizabeth leave. I should have found a way to get her back to her home. Where is her father? Did he die here too? Why did she have to die? My God, I am trying to hold on to my faith. There are many unanswered questions and I cannot understand why this happened. I feel like I have lost two daughters. May they both find each other in any Kingdom.

Too exhausted to eat, she lay down and closed her eyes, hoping for a dream to take her away from all the misery. She slipped into a shallow sleep for a couple of hours, her body fidgeting as she twitched in and out of consciousness. She lifted her head several times wondering if the silence would ever give her peace.

The silence did not last long.

“Where are you, woman?” yelled Marcus from downstairs. He slammed several cups against the wall. Leah scurried up the stairs to the roof.

The rain continued to saturate the area as she stood at the edge, the same place from where Elizabeth fell.

She stared down at the ground.
Will this be my final res
t
ing place?

“How did it feel to bury the woman?” Marcus shouted. “Did she cry before she died?” He laughed.

Rage ripped through Leah as she spun around to see him step up onto the roof. She noticed the dried blood on his face and leg.

Marcus pointed his sword straight ahead. “This is familiar. Jump off the roof and save yourself a bloody, slow death.”

She moved a few steps to the left, maintaining a slight balance by putting her right hand down.

He bared yellow teeth, twisting his face in cruel ugliness. “You can try to get away. I will chase you until your last drop of blood falls from my sword.”

She staggered, trying to get to the lowest part of the roof, the place where she and Michael sat that night watching the stars. She felt Elizabeth’s cross in her pocket.

Marcus rushed her and picked her up by the back of her hair. “Meet your God.”

She pulled the cross from her pocket and swung, gouging his eye. He stumbled backwards. “How dare you!” he shouted, covering his face.

Leah regained her footing as she ran several steps back to the higher part of the roof.

Marcus wielded his sword and hoisted it high.

Crack.

His eyes glazed and his body stiffened as a stone struck him. He fell face first into the roof’s concrete.

“Run, Leah, run!” shouted a man.

Calev?

She looked down and saw another man standing next to him, waving at her. “Come quickly,” he yelled.

Both men ran into her house and up the ladder. The soldier’s sword lay by his side. “Leah, come with us, quickly,” Calev urged.

“I will not run anymore,” she said, clutching her chest to catch her breath. “Sometimes one must remove evil the only way possible.”

Marcus rolled over and glanced up at her. “You will not kill me. You are weak like the other woman. I am a Roman. Others will hunt you down if you kill me. I know where your brother has gone. He is in Galilee. I have told other soldiers where he is.” His grin formed the figure of a snake. “Leave us. This is none of your business,” he said to Calev and his friend. “Leah, go downstairs. I will join you. We will be together again like before. It is too bad the other woman could not be with us too.”

Calev pulled on her arm. “Come now, before it is too late.”

She pushed him away.

“You will never be with me again.” She picked up the Roman’s sword with both hands and held it high over her head. “You have no God.”

She rammed it straight into Marcus’ chest.

The next morning Michael heard the shower being turned off and drawers opening and closing. He went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up, “Susan, can you step it up a little?”

“What was that?” she shouted.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Can I help you with anything? We need to get going.”

“I’m moving as fast as I can.”

Not fast enough.

He grabbed his sneakers from the corner in the hallway, slipped them on, not even tying the laces. Now in a hyped up mood, he was ready to see what was written in the book.

What if Dennis doesn’t let me see it? He’s never allowed me to read the book. Maybe there’s something terrible in there that he doesn’t want me to read.

He sat on the bottom step and took deep breaths to calm himself. “Come on Susan,” he yelled. “Let’s go.”

“I’m coming. Did you forget I arrived in the middle of the night after a long drive?”

He paced back and forth. “I know.” He took a few more steps, opened the door and stared out at the street. “Seems like I’m always waiting for women in my life,” he mumbled.

“What women are you referring to?” asked Susan from the top of the stairs.

“Right now,
you
.”

She hurried down the stairs and faced him. “You can be such an ingrate.”

“Excuse me?”

She shouldered past him into the kitchen. “You heard me. I rush down here to be by your side, you bounce me around like an emotional ping pong ball and now you bust my chops over a stinking few minutes.”

“I don’t have a few minutes. Don’t you get it? You know what, take a hike. I’ll walk. I don’t have time for your pity party.”

She stopped rummaging through her bag. Before Michael could take a step out the front door, Susan yanked his arm. “Pity party? How many hours have I spent on the phone with you at night listening to your problems? Listening to you go on and on about your guilt? Then trying to dump a stinking guilt trip on me for leaving Northport.”

Poking him in the shoulder with her index finger, she continued, “The endless crying sessions I’ve had to endure about why no one buys your book.” Her face turned a bright shade of pink. “You’ve got some nerve. If this was my house, I’d kick you to the curb.”

She slapped him in the face.

Michael backed away, holding his left cheek.

Without another word she walked outside.