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Authors: Catherine Palmer

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“But, Joshua, what if Stephen Rudi really is causing some of these problems in his family? What if he’s not exactly the great guy we think he is?”

“Are you kidding me? Stephen has his nose in the Bible all the time. If I need to talk to him, I check his room. He’s always up there studying, writing out long notes to himself in his little book. Sermons, I guess.”

“Have you read any of his writing?”

“Why would I read someone’s private journals? Pastor Stephen’s spiritual journey is his own business.”

“You didn’t have any problem violating Mary Rudi’s privacy. It didn’t bother you to go digging around in her dress pockets.”

He was silent a moment. “Are we going to argue about that again?”

Liz heard the unhappiness in his voice. “I don’t want to argue, Joshua. But aren’t you curious why Stephen Rudi is so interested in Mo Ded? What’s the connection between those two men? It’s bothering me that this Pagandan pastor is all fired up about winning a gangbanger to Christ when he has more than enough problems of his own.”

She paused long enough for Joshua to respond. When he didn’t, she continued. “Why did the Rudi family flee the refugee agency that brought them to America, Joshua? That organization has all their legal documentation and is responsible for their safety and resettlement. It makes no sense to run off to St. Louis. And why did they come to this city, anyway? There was no brother-in-law and no address waiting for them here. Maybe they knew that. Maybe the letter they acted so upset about was really meant to fool
us.
I want to know what that man was thinking when he forced his wife and children onto a bus in Atlanta.”

“Those are some serious suspicions, Liz. What are you getting at?”

“Platinum,” she said. “And Paganda. I just read something that disturbs me. Joshua, the largest newly discovered reserves of platinum are in Paganda.”

Neither spoke. Liz tried to imagine what Joshua was thinking. How would his analytical brain work this new factor into the mysterious equation of Stephen and Mary Rudi? She certainly couldn’t piece it together.

“Have you told Ransom about this?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll head over there. It’s not a good idea to discuss this by phone.”

“You can’t come.” She swallowed, trying to think how to tell him without sounding silly. Finally, she blurted it out. “I don’t trust myself. Not alone with you. Sorry.”

When he spoke again, she heard the tenderness in his voice. “My fault. Should have known.”

“I wouldn’t have given it much thought, but Shauntay reminded me that people are watching us all the time. Our behavior, our actions—they see that, and it matters. She and Raydell are together again. Sam and Terell have been talking to them about abstinence.”

“I got in on a little of that the other day. Said I agreed, and I meant it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy. Good thing we’ll be staying at my parents’ place in Texas this weekend.”

“Joshua, I…” Liz couldn’t continue.

All at once the idea of fleeing an apartment where she never felt completely safe seemed wonderful. A clean house from top to bottom, inside and out. A shower with full water pressure. No cockroaches. A yard, green grass, landscaping, a swimming pool. Fresh, unpolluted air. Bright, educated adults who spoke the English language well and understood politics, history and art. It would be paradise.

“I bought your ticket online,” Joshua said. “The flight leaves early Saturday morning. I’ll put you on a plane home if you get there and change your mind.”

“Change my mind about what? I haven’t agreed to go with you in the first place.”

“You need this, Liz. We both do.”

She cast her eyes around the apartment, taking in the cracks in the walls and the bars on the windows. What would it be like to step out of this grimy, precarious environment for a few
days? How might it feel to be with Joshua in a new place, somewhere calm and bright? Somewhere safe.

“But I keep thinking about Paganda,” she said, unwilling to give credence to the truth that she was tempted to leave her home and her work. “What about the platinum and Pastor Stephen? What about Mo Ded and Stephen Rudi? Can there be a connection?”

“Feels remote to me, but you have to wonder.”

“The platinum Sergeant Ransom told us about may have been brought in by someone from Paganda. Someone who came here recently. It’s possible. Maybe our refugee isn’t the man we think he is. Maybe he’s doing things we never suspected. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“It does. But I’m willing to leave that investigation to Ransom.”

“Can you really do that, Joshua? You’ve worked so hard on all this. And Mo Ded is still on the loose. You said you would bring down the Hypes. You told me you always keep your promises. Can you just let it go?”

“I put the pieces in place for the cops, Liz. I gave them new information on Mo Ded. I stopped the Claymore. And tonight the Hypes went down.”

“They’ll regroup. You know Mo Ded isn’t defeated.”

“His armor has chinks, and Ransom knows where they are. Liz, sometimes you have to accept that you’ve done your job. I walked out of a country where I was deeply involved. I had Afghani friends, favorite restaurants, things I enjoyed. I was comfortable there. My work mattered. It was interesting, and I used my skills. But I left, Liz. You do that when the time comes.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Something else calls. You realize you need to pack up and move on. You have other loyalties, other responsibilities. If you’ve done your work well, it’s not a sin to leave.”

As he spoke, Liz thought again of the refugees represented
by the files on her desk. She saw their faces, their eyes. She felt their hope.

“It feels wrong. For me, anyway.” She leaned against the wall, exhaustion overtaking her. “What about the Rudi family, Joshua? How can you abandon them? You just admitted how messed up they are. And you promised to settle them. You’re the man who never breaks a vow.”

“By Saturday morning, they’ll be as settled as they can be. Tomorrow I move them to their new apartment. It’s nice, furnished, near the MetroLink line and the school. Stephen has a decent job. I’ve bought MetroLink passes for the next six months. I talked to Social Services about Mary and her trauma. They agreed to look into the case. Someone will keep tabs on the family and try to get Mary to a counselor. At the least, they’ll make sure there’s food in the pantry and the kids are safe and well cared for. I’ll be in touch, too. If things fall apart, I’ll know. Ransom, Sam, Terell—they’ve all agreed to stay in touch with the Rudis and call me if there’s a problem. I can step back in anytime.”

“So, it’s done? Your responsibility is over?”

“No one has a perfect life, Liz. I can’t hand that to the Rudis on a silver platter. I said I would settle them, and I have. My work is complete.”

Liz had wandered into her bedroom, and now she curled up on the rumpled comforter. The sadness that had been nagging at her for days welled up in her chest. She didn’t want to leave her work, her beautiful refugee families and all they meant to her. But she didn’t want to lose Joshua, either. The thought of it tore at her.

“Will you talk to your supervisor tomorrow, Liz?” His voice warmed the aching places inside her. “Will you go with me to Texas?”

Closing her eyes, Liz felt every barrier inside her suddenly collapse. “Yes,” she told him. “Yes, I will.”

Chapter Nineteen

“A
barbecue.” Liz looked at Joshua across the table. “We should hold a barbecue picnic and invite the Pagandan community. There aren’t many in St. Louis. The outdoor rec area at Haven is perfect, and no one will suspect. It would be natural for us to introduce Stephen Rudi to his countrymen.”

The group gathered in the small room at the police station had agreed to keep the current discussion to themselves. Sam Hawke, Terell Roberts and Daniel Ransom had joined Liz and Joshua for the Friday noon meeting. Now they all leaned forward to listen to her idea.

“Paganda is one of the few unregulated producers of platinum in the world,” she told them. “The government owns and operates the mine. That means its operation has been unstable during these past few years of civil war. It’s possible platinum left the country unreported.”

Joshua studied the woman as she outlined her thoughts. As always, the winsome bundle of curls, energy, beauty and intelligence fascinated him.

After she had accepted his offer of a trip to Texas the night before, he went down to the gym to try to work off the buzz of emotion zapping through him. Liz Wallace in Texas. Liz at his home on the ranch in Amarillo.

The idea bemused and excited him at the same time. There were too many “what-ifs” to ponder. Would she like his family? Would they like her? They would love her, of course. But how would he and Liz feel about each other outside the strange world of Haven and the mean streets of St. Louis?

“I contacted Atlanta this morning,” Liz was saying. “I talked to a caseworker with the refugee resettlement agency that brought the Rudis to the United States. He told me the Rudis were the only Pagandan family to move out of Georgia this year. All the others have been settled in Atlanta and are accounted for there.”

“What about your agency?” Ransom asked. “Could Refugee Hope have brought in someone who had contact with the platinum mine?”

“We haven’t resettled anyone from Paganda for a couple of years. This city’s Pagandan community is small, but the families are well established. No one has been in trouble with the law, and there’s no indication that any of these people could be smuggling contraband into this country—certainly not platinum. To be honest, all our refugees, including the Pagandans, are living just above the poverty level. If any of them were trading a rare metal on the black market, we would see evidence.”

“So you think it’s possible this new family brought the platinum?” Ransom asked. “Why couldn’t it have come from South Africa or Russia? We know those are the major producers.”

Liz shot a look at Joshua. Neither wanted to voice their suspicions, but it was no longer wise to remain silent. He cleared his throat.

“Trouble with the Hypes heated up around the time the
Rudis appeared on Haven’s doorstep,” he explained. “You all know I’ve been tracking the gang’s weapons buildup. I learned the infusion of cash and the movement of platinum on the streets coincide with the arrival of the Rudi family. Not long after Stephen Rudi took his job at the restaurant, rumors of the Claymore started buzzing. I didn’t put it all together until last night when Liz told me about the connection between Paganda and platinum. I’ve spent hours thinking through every detail. Though I don’t like to admit this, it all fits.”

“Hold on,” Terell inserted. “I respect your experience, Duff, but you’re stepping out on a limb here. You think Stephen Rudi could have brought platinum to St. Louis and started trading it for cash? Why would he do that?”

“Could be a personal thing. He wants to make money. Get rich. The American dream.”

“But if you study Paganda’s history,” Liz put in, “you realize he may have a political motivation. Both sides in the conflict have a history of centuries of hatred and slaughter. The power base has gone back and forth many times. Refugees from both sides of the dispute live in Congo, Tanzania, Kenya and other surrounding countries. Stephen Rudi could be using the cash to support a buildup of rebel troops to overthrow the current government.”

Joshua nodded. “He could even be buying arms. We assumed Mo Ded had ordered the Claymore. It might have been Stephen Rudi.”

“I think we have to be careful here,” Ransom said. “We don’t have any definite links. We’re not sure the platinum came from Paganda. We definitely can’t tie it to your little pastor. And by the way, if he’s some kind of evil mastermind, the guy sure has done a great job of covering his tracks. Word on the street about him is nothing but great.”

“That’s true,” Terell said. “People love Pastor S.”

“This morning, talk of his prayer-walk is all over the place. Even in the newspaper—thanks to Hawke’s fiancée and her handy photographer.”

“Ana can’t resist a good story,” Sam said. “It can only help.”

Ransom’s eyebrows lifted a notch. “Maybe so. People are saying the African preacher called down the power of God and sent the Hypes running. I sure hate to see our local hero suddenly transformed into a villain.”

Then he shrugged. “But if you can hook him to the Claymore, you know I’m behind you all the way.”

“Well, I think Pastor S. is a good man,” Terell insisted. “I trust him.”

“You trust everyone, T-Rex,” Sam said. “That’s why we love you, dog.”

As Terell gave Sam a playful punch on the arm, Joshua smiled. He had come to feel as much affection for the towering former NBA star as he did for his fellow ex-Marine. Whereas Sam was a warrior like himself, Terell was a bona fide marshmallow. The kids loved him, and he reached them in ways no one else at Haven could.

“So this barbecue?” Joshua asked. “What’s your idea, Liz?”

She turned the focus back to Sam and Terell. “If Haven will sponsor a gathering for the Pagandan community at the park, there’s naturally going to be a lot of conversation out there. Gossip. Storytelling. People know each other from the refugee camps, and they understand the tribal conflict in a way we never will. With Stephen Rudi and his family mingling among the crowd, I believe Joshua can sniff out the truth.”

“Duff is leaving in the morning,” Sam said. “And from what I hear, you’re going with him.”

Joshua saw two pink spots blossom on Liz’s cheeks. She pushed her fingers back through her hair and gave a shrug. “Tonight? Could you pull something together that fast?”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry. We’ll have to get a church lined up to donate the food. We’d need some barbecue grills. Not too difficult. Haven has a lot of great partners now. But just contacting the Pagandans in the area is going to take some doing.”

“I can handle that,” Liz said. “I have enough information to let a few people know. Word will spread fast.”

“Weren’t these Pagandans among the refugees who were all up in arms about the drive-by?” Ransom asked. “They were calling in to the precinct the next day claiming the gangs are out to get them. What’s going to convince these people to show up for a barbecue at the very site where that kid went down?”

“Pastor Stephen,” Joshua said. “I know he’s our suspect. But he’s also our asset. He has a good reputation on the streets, and the Pagandans will respond well to that. They know his boy was shot. They’ve surely heard he wants to start a church. If they don’t know the guy already, they’ll want to meet him.”

“It’s a natural event for Haven to host,” Liz said. “Almost expected. No one will suspect what Joshua is up to and he—”

She cut herself off. All eyes turned his way. Joshua leaned over, elbows on his knees, and laced his fingers. He studied the floor, again weighing options. But in the end, there were none.

“I have to be in Amarillo tomorrow evening,” he said finally. “Liz will be with me. Before we leave, she can contact the Pagandans. Ransom, I’ll brief you on the latest information I’ve pulled together. Sam and Terell, if you arrange for the barbecue, I know our friendly local police officer can snoop as well as I could.”

“That’s your specialty, Duff,” Ransom said. “And won’t these people be speaking their native language?”

“Not to you.” Joshua realized he had some work to do. “I’ll spend the afternoon here. Teach you some techniques that work with nationals. Or in this case, imports.”

“Refugees,” Liz said. She gave him a look he didn’t like. The woman was tense about this trip. He knew that. She had asked
for—and received—permission to take a week’s vacation, but she wouldn’t like abandoning the investigation. Especially when it involved the refugee community.

“Well, I think we can pull something together for Sunday evening,” Sam told the police officer. “Might as well move on this thing while it’s hot. Sounds like you’ll be ready to do your detective work if Liz can round up some Pagandans.”

“Sunday,” she said. “I didn’t think it would be so soon. I guess I thought…I hoped I might get back in time to help out.”

“Honey, if Duff has his way, you ain’t
never
coming back,” Terell said. He leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Bye-bye! Been nice knowing you!”

“I only took one week off,” she said.

But the others were already standing. The meeting was at an end, and Joshua had work to do. As Sam and Terell headed for the door, Ransom spoke.

“You better work fast,” he said. “I don’t have a clue how to talk Pagandan, or whatever those people speak.”

“Hang on a second,” Joshua cut in. He glanced at Liz. Phone to one ear, she was pulling her jacket over her shoulders and hurrying after Sam and Terell.

Would she really go with him? He realized he had no certainty that Liz Wallace was a woman who kept her vows.

 

The plane began its descent into Amarillo, Texas. Joshua shifted in his seat, again trying to arrange himself more comfortably. First class should offer plenty of legroom, he thought. But his shoulders more than covered the back of the chair, and one knee jutted out into the aisle.

Seated by the window, Liz was a bundle of nerves. Had been the whole flight. Picking her up that morning at her apartment building, he knew right away she was sending him a message to back off. She had packed a carry-on bag, nothing
more. On the way to the airport, she phoned her friend Molly, then her parents, then Sam Hawke. In the terminal, she made a beeline for the restroom. Joshua half expected her to vanish like Mary Rudi. Just as their flight was being called, she emerged.

Once inside the plane, she had exclaimed over their seats in the first class cabin. For all his training, Joshua hadn’t been able to decipher whether that cry had been one of pleasure or dismay. Liz sat down, buckled her seat belt, put her head back and shut her eyes. Her hands, clutching her purse, were white-knuckled.

“You slept through the food service,” he told her when she opened her eyes and looked around. “Airplane food. Shame.”

Her brown eyes met his. “I wasn’t asleep.”

They had barely spoken all morning, and he felt himself getting edgy. “Liz, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” she said. “I don’t belong in first class.”

“You do now. You’re with me.”

“I didn’t get to tell Mrs. Gonzales where I was going. And I don’t feel right about leaving the Pagandans in the hands of Sam and Terell. I set up the event, and I should be there. Besides, I hardly know you. I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s—”

“Liz.” He touched her cheek. “It’s me. You know me. You love me. And I love you.”

“But it doesn’t feel the way it did back in St. Louis. This isn’t where we fit.”

“You and I fit together anywhere. You’ll see.”

“No, I mean we don’t fit
here.
The airport, the first class cabin, Texas.”

As she said the word, the plane’s wheels touched down on the tarmac. Tears flooded her eyes.

“I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know what I was thinking. I
wasn’t
thinking! I never do impulsive things like this.”

“I always do them.” With some effort in the cramped
space, he reached around and took her shoulders. “Liz, relax. You can leave anytime you want. But I hope you’ll stay.”

She pressed her fingertips against the corner of one eye. “I’m sorry, Joshua. You were good to invite me. And I did want to come. But last night I just couldn’t—”

“Let me guess. You couldn’t sleep? Neither could I. Spent hours in the fitness room. Do you think things like this happen to me all the time, Liz? I never expected to find you in St. Louis. And when I did, I had no idea what to do with you—with my feelings for you. We’re in the same place. So, let’s go meet my parents. We’ll hang out by the pool, have some dinner, visit old friends. Let’s give Texas a chance.”

As he finished, she nodded. The flight attendant opened the cabin door. People stood and began gathering their belongings. Joshua pushed himself out of his seat and tried to work out the kinks in his legs. Maybe he had overdone the treadmill.

 

“Prime rib, ma’am? Or would you prefer turkey?” A young man dressed in a tuxedo smiled at Liz. “You can have both if you want.”

“Oh…turkey. That would be fine. Thank you.”

She gripped the edges of her plate as if it might somehow steady her. Nothing in Liz’s life had prepared her for this.

The Duff home sprawled across the Amarillo plains like a lazy cougar. Thick adobe walls and saltillo clay tile floors lent an air of comfort to the faded elegance of the old place. Chandeliers hung from the ceilings by massive chains. Furniture upholstered in Mexican and Indian blankets had been carved from pine. Paintings—Western landscapes mostly—hung on the walls. Pottery filled lighted niches.

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