One Chance: A Thrilling Christian Fiction Mystery Romance (18 page)

"Patty Lamb," she answered. "Penelope, please help me. I'm here at the house with him. I don't know what he's going to do."

"He? Who, Patty? What who's going to do?"

The line went almost silent, but Penelope could still hear her labored breathing. "Patty, is it safe for you to talk?"

"No," came the whispered reply.

"Patty, hold on. I'm on my way. Find someplace safe in the house, and you stay there, you got it?"

As she was hanging up the phone, she heard Patty whisper, "Hurry!"

"What was that all about?" the Sheriff asked her.

"Patty Lamb. Pete's sister. She's in trouble. It sounds like someone's in her house. Saunders!" she called over to Jim. "Get in a cruiser and follow me, we've got something going on over at the Lamb's house."

"Get out there quick, Penelope," the Sheriff told her, standing up and heading for his office. "I'll call over to the Florida Highway Patrol and see what they can give us for backup. Keep me posted."

Penelope was already out the door.

CHAPTER 33

Penelope was beginning to wonder what else could possibly happen in the little Florida town of Franklin as she and Deputy Jim Saunders raced down the streets of Franklin in their cruisers to the home of Pete and his sister Patty.

Penelope headed east on Main Street until it ended, then turned left on the County road towards Patty's house. Half a mile later, just past where Pete had been run over by Michael Findley using Doug's truck, she pulled into the driveway and turned the cruiser's engine off.

Jim was only a few seconds behind. They had shut the sirens off back in town, after they had cleared traffic, so that whoever was here with Patty wouldn't have advance warning they were coming. But they were here now, and no hiding it. She surveyed the house.

House was kind of a generous term. Patty and Pete lived in a rundown double-wide that had seen better days. The board siding was falling off in some places and the metal roofing was curling at the edges. Penelope had been in the place before, and so she knew that Patty kept it neat and tidy inside, but she also knew that Pete's drinking had kept them from having a lot of the money it would have taken to fix the place up.

"Jim," she said quietly as Saunders came up to her, "see if you can get around back, keep out of sight, and just make sure no one comes out that isn't me or Patty. When the Highway Patrol gets here, brief them and station them outside, then you come in too. Okay?"

Jim nodded and was off around back.

Penelope drew her Sigma from its holster, just in case she needed it. She didn't like guns. Never had. And she had yet to solve any problem with one. But, not knowing what she was heading into, she wouldn't be doing herself or anyone else any favors by not being prepared. She entered the home carefully, pushing the door open with the barrel of her weapon, then sweeping it from side to side as she sidestepped down the hallway.

The first room she came to was the home's kitchen. It had been built with a low wall dividing the dining area and the living room. Behind that wall, she found Patty, crouching down and holding the phone tightly to her chest.

"Penelope," she said. "Oh, thank God. He's in the bedroom."

Penelope put a finger to her mouth to ask Patty to speak quieter, and then waved her over to her. She came, hesitantly, watching past the living room the whole time, down the hall where the bedrooms were.

When Patty reached her, Penelope leaned in close to her. "Patty, I have another officer outside. Jim Saunders. You know him. He's around back. I want you to go out to him, and let him know that you're okay. All right? Tell him I said to have you stay out by the patrol cars. Can you do that?"

She nodded, her whole body trembling. Whatever had happened had shaken her badly.

"You're not—" she started, then swallowed and lowered her voice. "You're not going to hurt him, are you?"

"Patty, hurt who? Who's in here with you?"

She looked at Penelope like she should already know. "Pete," she said. "It's Pete. My brother."

CHAPTER 34

Penelope was shocked to hear that Patty's own brother was the one who was making her this afraid. "Patty, what's going on? I thought Pete was just released from the hospital?"

She nodded. "He was, Penelope. His stomach's all bandaged up where they had to cut him open for surgery. His right wrist is in a cast. He's still got the bruises on him from where Doug hit him in his truck. But he wanted to go home, so badly, so I signed him out against medical advice. They wanted to keep him but he wouldn't hear of it." She shook her head. "I made them call Doctor Gordon anyway, just to let him know what was going on."

That was why the hospital had called Jacob, Penelope realized. Because Patty had been worried about her brother. The message just hadn't been passed on the way Patty had wanted it to be.

"And then when we got home," Patty went on in a rush, "he started drinking. Beer after beer, and that was an hour ago. I begged him not to drink, Penelope, I begged him, but you can't stop him when he gets like this. He's worse than our father ever was. Worse than Doug, even. And then he started going on about how he had messed things up and made all the wrong choices and then he got his father's rifle out—"

"Woah," Penelope stopped her there. "Pete's got a rifle with him?"

She nodded, wide eyed.

"Is it loaded?"

Patty nodded again, and her eyes teared up.

"Okay, Patty. Okay. It's going to be all right. Just go out to Deputy Saunders like I told you to, and make sure you tell him about the rifle, okay?"

"But Penelope, what are you going to do?" she asked.

"Everything I can, Patty. Go, now."

Patty set the phone down on the floor and crept out the back door.

"Dear Lord," Penelope prayed now. "Help me. Help me, and help Pete. I know there's more to what happened to him than anyone yet realizes, Lord God, but he doesn't need to do this. Please, help him realize that."

Moving in a sliding step, bringing her back foot up to her front foot, then step forward, back foot up to front again, just like her training had taught her to do, Penelope kept her pistol out and at low ready. Her throat was dry, and she could feel beads of sweat at the back of her neck. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd had to draw her gun in the line of duty. And never once had she done it with a friend involved.

"Pete?" she called out. No answer. "Pete, it's Penelope. Penelope Chance. Can you come out of the bedroom and talk to me?"

"I'm on th' phone!" she finally heard Pete say in a shaky voice. "Don't you come in here!"

Penelope centered on the sound of Pete's voice. He was in the last room down on the left, which Penelope knew was Pete's bedroom. It had a single window that opened on the road side of the building, away from where she had stationed Jim, and no other way out.

And the door was closed.

Okay, Penelope thought. So now what?

"Pete. Talk to me, Pete."

"I told you," Pete yelled at her. "I'm on th' phone!"

Penelope closed her eyes and asked God for protection. What she was about to do was probably foolhardy. But to save her friend, there might not be any other way.

Holding her gun low, she bladed her body to the door and opened it with her left hand. "Pete, I'm coming in."

"Stay out, Penelope!"

"I can't do that Pete. You know I can't. I'm going to come in, and we're going to talk. Patty said you have a gun in there. Do you have a gun in there?"

No answer. Penelope could hear Pete in there, talking in a low voice. And then, silence.

"Pete?"

The door swung open wider and Pete limped his way out. Penelope noticed several things at once, including the cast on Pete's right forearm, the yellowing bruises on his face, and the rifle held in his left hand.

Penelope took two steps back, but kept her gun low. "Pete. Put the gun down."

"Not yet," he said. Penelope could smell the beer from where she stood and hear the slur in his words.

"Why not yet, Pete? Now seems like a great time for it in my book."

Pete shook his head and actually raised the rifle's end a little. "I'm waitin' on someone. You wanna wait with me? Do you Penelope?"

This wasn't getting them anywhere. If she kept threatening Pete with her gun, Pete would stay defensive about holding on to his. Either way, this would be a stalemate. So she figured it was up to her to make the first move.

Slowly she holstered her gun and held her hands up. "Okay, Pete. Okay. Let's talk now. Let's just talk. What's going on here, Pete? Huh? Talk to me."

Pete lowered the rifle, but still held onto it. He shook his head and tried to rub at his eyes that were suddenly running with tears, but his cast wouldn't let him. "I screwed up, Penelope. Screwed up bad."

"I know, Pete. I know. You accused Doug of running you down. It wasn't him. We figured out who it was. The guy's in jail now and we cleared Doug. It's okay now, Pete."

But Pete was shaking his head even before Penelope was done speaking.

"Not that, Penelope! Th' other thing."

Other thing? "Pete, what are you talking about? Talk to me, buddy."

"I'm a drunk, Penelope. Always been a drunk. Screwed things up. Made a bad...bad mistake."

Penelope dared to take another step back toward Pete, keeping her eyes on the rifle. If she could get close enough, she knew she could get it away from him.

"Pete," Penelope tried again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Pete shook his head. "Can't. I did somethin'... I'm a drunk. I owed...money. A lotta money. Needed to make some money. Needed money. He said he'd pay me...pay me money."

Penelope took another step forward while Pete was distracted.

"All I wanted," Pete was saying, still trying to rub at his eyes, "was to get money for Patty. She's been so good t' me, Penelope. Been better t' me than I deserved. I just wanted t' help her, Penelope."

Penelope was becoming honestly worried about her friend. Something was not right. Pete was talking about something even worse than what Penelope herself suspected, and Penelope suspected a lot at this point.
God, help Pete lay this burden down, just as you helped me get rid of my own burden. Help him now, God, please.

"Pete," she asked. "What did you do?"

Pete sobbed, tears choking his voice. "Don't matter, Penelope." He lifted the rifle.

"Pete, no!" Penelope cried out and went to step forward.

"Don't matter Penelope."

Everything stopped for a moment. The whole world came to a slow halt as Pete raised the rifle up and Penelope reached for it and she prayed harder than she had in a long time.

And then a voice broke the stillness.

"Pete, I'm here."

Penelope stopped mid stride and turned around.

Doug stood in the hallway behind them.

"It's okay, Pete," Doug said. "I forgive you."

Penelope held her breath. She didn't know how Doug had gotten here, or how he'd gotten inside for that matter with Deputy Saunders outside, but she understood enough to know that Doug being there had stopped Pete from doing something drastic.

"Doug?" Penelope said, a world of questions in her voice.

"It's all right, Penny. I've got this." Doug stepped down the hallway until he was just a step or two in front of Penelope, within reach of Pete. "Put the gun down, Pete."

"Doug," Pete wailed, still sobbing. "You shouldn't've come. Not now. Told you on th' phone. I'm sorry, Doug, I'm so so so so sorry."

"I know, Pete. I know you are. But it's done now. It's over. Please, Pete, give me the rifle."

Pete took a few shaky breaths and looked like he might actually hand the gun over to Doug, but then gripped it tightly again, shaking his head. "No. Can't. I hav' to do this."

"No, Pete, you don't. We're here for you," Doug told him. "Me and Penelope and Patty and everyone who cares for you. We're all here. We're here for you."

Penelope kept silent through the whole exchange, but kept herself ready to spring forward, to grab Doug, to grab the gun, to do whatever was necessary to end this. And at the same time she prayed that all that was needed to end this was just the gentle words that Doug was using.

"How can you fo'give me, Doug?" Pete asked, his hands shaking now. "You know wh' I did. I told you. On th' phone. Told you wh' I did."

So that was who Pete had been on the phone with when Penelope got in the house. Penelope thought it through. That still didn't explain what they were...

...oh, God help us. Everything was clicking into place for Penelope at that point. More pieces of the puzzle fell into place. But something still wasn't right.

She just didn't know what.

"I do forgive you, Pete," Doug was saying. "Because I'm your friend. And because I know that you've been punishing yourself more than I ever could. Everything else, let's leave up to God. Okay? You can do that, right?"

Pete was silent, his hand still on the rifle. But slowly, he nodded.

Outside, sirens wailed as more police arrived. "That would be the Florida Highway Patrol coming in," Penelope explained. "Pete, don't worry about them. They'll stay outside. In here, it's just us friends, like Doug said. It's just us. Okay?"