The Greatest Gift (5 page)

Leah picked up Michael’s torn shirt with a picture of Bruce Springsteen on it.
I never did ask Michael who this is. Maybe I can ask if I see him at the burial place.

She held it up to her face, smelling the fabric. She wiped some tears away, ashamed and confused.
What do I do about my fee
l
ings? Michael, you are here, without your daughter. You are alone and sad. I am not. I am happy with Aharon. This is not fair. My God, I plead to you for answers.

She placed the shirt inside a small drawer. As she did so, she noticed a tiny robe, bringing back sorrowful memories. She picked it up and held it against her heart.
Why, my God, must there be so much pain in our world? Will it ever end? Why did my daughter have to be taken from me?

Leah rocked back and forth with the robe, humming a song. She felt a wiggle in her stomach and stopped singing. She listened and rubbed her belly, caressing it from side to side. “What are you trying to tell me?” she asked in a whisper. “I am listening. Mommy is here for you. Tell me what you need.”

She took a deep sigh and closed her eyes, rocking again back and forth, holding the robe in one hand and stroking her belly with the other. She cuddled the robe tightly to her face and breathed in until Aharon’s voice startled her.

She tucked it back inside the drawer quickly as Aharon walked into the bedroom. Leah turned to see he was wiping his hair with a cloth.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Leah took a deep breath and swallowed. “Cleaning the room,” she said in a faint voice.

“I do not believe you.”

She turned her back. “Why do you say that?”

He stuck his head around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Your face is wet. Why were you crying?” He noticed the open drawer and the tiny robe. “Oh, my love.”

“I am fine.” She laid her head against his shoulder.

“You must think of what we have now and not what has been.”

“What will we do if our child becomes ill?”

“Children become sick. We will be sure our child stays healthy. I cannot change what happened to you and Yochanan many sunsets ago. I will protect our child from any illness.” He gripped her shoulders. “I will.”

Leah looked away.

“Are there more troubles?” asked Aharon.

“Yochanan spoke those words when our daughter was born.” Leah dropped her head. Aharon put his arms around her. He kissed her forehead. “We will make sure our child lives.”

He kissed her again. “I must go. My brother called upon me while I was cleaning. He told me to join him now. Do not be sad, my love. I will be back before the sun sets.”

I am sad. I cannot tell him of my dreams of losing another child. When will I sleep again? When can my body rest? My mind will not allow me to rest without fear. I am a prisoner. Nowhere to go but inside these walls.

Hewitt helped Susan and Connie to the car. Susan leaned on the front passenger door as Connie ducked into the back. “Are you coming, Sue?”

“Yupsters.” She pushed Connie over, the tip of her head hitting the ceiling. “Ouch.”

“Are you ladies okay back there?” asked Hewitt.

“Tip top here,” said Susan.

“More like tipsy,” Connie said.

The heat whooshed from the dashboard, soothing the chill of the spacious Cadillac. Connie and Susan leaned against the windows, hands folded like good Christian girls waiting for a Sunday service to begin. Susan’s eyes shut a few minutes later.

“Aren’t you lucky I stumbled upon you ladies? It could have been costly and dangerous for both of you to be out there in this condition.”

Annoyed that the window was cold against her face, Susan edged over and leaned against Connie, who frowned. Susan backed away as Connie jostled her shoulder.

“Where are we?” Susan asked.

“You’re in the car with Special Agent Hewitt Paul, Susan. Do you not remember getting in the car with us?”

Susan didn’t answer.

“I’ll be taking you home.”

Connie laughed out loud.

Susan’s brows knit together.

Connie giggled, slurring her words as she spoke to Hewitt. “Hey,
cowboy,
where are we going riding tonight?”

“What was that?” he asked.

“You and me?”

Susan mouthed, “What are you doing?”

Connie laughed and hugged Susan as Hewitt’s gaze followed them in the rearview mirror. She watched his eyes focus on her.

“I’ll drop Susan off first. Where can I take you?” he asked.

“Make a right here. I’m up the road somewhere,” Susan answered while giggling some more.

“You’re in a good mood,” said Hewitt to Connie as he made a turn onto Susan’s block.

“Right here,” said Susan. “The house with the big blue lamp.”

The car pulled up in front of her home. The lamp lit the front steps. Hewitt turned the car off and helped Susan to the door. He said something to her and gave her a card.

Thank God he took her home first. I wouldn’t have been able to help her. Miss college girl can’t handle her liquor. Who knows what she would blurt out now
, Connie thought.

Hewitt returned to the car and turned around. “Why don’t you sit up here?”

“Another time.”

“All right. Where can I drop you off?”

“My brother’s house.”

“Why there?”

“I water his plants.”

Hewitt stared.

“Have I broken any law?”

“If you’re harboring a fugitive, yes.” He turned around and started the car.

Connie sat silent for a minute or two and then burst out laughing.

The car stopped on top of the hill, several yards away from the front door. She climbed out before Hewitt could help her. She stumbled and fell on top of the hood.

“Are you going to throw up?” Hewitt said as he raced to close his windows.

“I’m fine. Relax.”

“Let me help you into the house.”

“Mister big shot agent, I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Well, good, because I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Are you married?”

“I was.”

She giggled.

“That’s funny?”

“You must have been a peach to live with.”

“I hear you weren’t.”

Connie stopped. “What?”

“Keep walking.”

Connie reached the front door and fumbled with her keys, dropping them. Hewitt picked them up. “Let me handle this.”

“You’re so strong.”

“How much did you have to drink tonight?”

“Oh, four or five or um, I don’t remember.”

“Where’s the light?” he asked as he led her inside.

She watched him move his hand up and down the wall, searching for a switch. He finally found one and turned on the hallway light. “There.”

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Connie asked as she kicked her heels off into the living room and tossed her coat on the floor.

“I’d prefer coffee.”

“I’m not a chef. You’re getting tea.” Connie staggered to the kitchen, pouring water into a teapot and lighting the stove.

She sat down at the table as Hewitt took off his coat and jacket, impressing her with his well-built shoulders. He sat across from her and stared.

“How are you doing with everything?” he asked with a slight hint of empathy.

“Aw, you really do have a heart.”

“Of course I do. I had a child. I hurt like anyone else. I know what it is to lose a loved one.”

Connie looked down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I can help you and your family if you let me. I can make sure Michael gets a good lawyer, a fair trial. I’ll ask for leniency and make sure he’s given a chance to avoid the worst prison time.”

Connie picked her head up.
Wow
. She shook her head.

“Is everything all right?” he asked in a soft tone. “Do you need help?”

Connie put her hand in the air. “I’m fine.” She looked at him loosening his tie. She gathered her composure. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Are you sure? Look, I know you love your brother. I can sense you’re as frustrated as I am. I only have your best interests at heart.
Like you.
” He reached to touch her hand.

Oh, no you don’t. No way, cowboy.
She straightened up. “If I did have any information where he was, I wouldn’t tell you. Is that hard to understand?”

Hewitt pulled his hand away from hers and glared. “I think it’s time I make
you
understand.”

The teapot whistled, and Connie poured the steaming water into a ceramic cup. She placed it in front of him and dropped a teabag on the table as her phone rang.

“Oh, Lord, what does he need at this hour,” she said, answering it. “Hi Dad. What’s up?”

“I’m worried about you, Connie.”

Connie rolled her eyes at Hewitt. “Why Dad?”

“Because you’re alone. Do you know how embarrassing it was to tell your aunt that Craig walked out on you?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“Well, you should. You aren’t getting any younger. Don’t you want to have children?”

Connie placed the phone down at her side and sighed.

“Are you all right?” Hewitt asked.

She put the phone back to her ear. “There’s nothing I can do to change it now. I’ve got to go. I have a guest.”

“A man?”

“Yes, Jim, a man. Is that okay? Would you like to interview him?”

Click.
Connie looked at Hewitt. “Can you believe he hung up on me?”

“I think you gave him a reason to hang up on you,” Hewitt said.

“Oh, great. You men all stick together.”

“Give the guy a break. He’s checking in with you. Probably worried a single girl like you is out late.”

“I’m a grown woman.”

Hewitt poked the water with the bag several times, as Connie handed him a napkin. He looked at her. “Yes you are. I’m glad you realize that. We can make this easy for everyone involved. I can be your best friend or your worst enemy. It’s up to you. If you’re involved in any way, I won’t be Mr. Nice Guy anymore. I am going to pay your father a visit too.”

“Leave him alone. He’s an old sick man.”

“That’s life. I have a job to do.” He took a few sips and winced.

Connie smirked, taking some joy in his discomfort.

“I do my job well,” he said. “I’ll find your brother. He has a lot to answer for.”

“What does he have to answer for?”

“Have you forgotten that your niece is missing and her blood was found in your brother’s car? We have witnesses who say he was abusive to her in church. Now they’re both missing. I know you have information that could help me find your niece and brother, so now’s the time to tell me what you know.”

Connie looked away.
He sounds convincing. No. He’s trying to coerce me. I need to stop staring at his shoulders. I need to focus and concentrate. He doesn’t want to help Michael or Elizabeth. He’s looking to put my brother in jail. Michael is a religious nut, but he’s not a murderer.
“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Okay then, is your ex-husband the right guy to ask?”

Connie clenched her hands.

“You don’t think I know about your ex? Why he left? How embarrassing it would be if it got leaked to the local papers here? How embarrassing it would be for your father to find out? I’m sure it would send him to his grave quicker if he knew. How humiliating it would be if your friends discovered the real reason? I’d bet your boss would just love that publicity.”

She stood and pointed to the door, screaming, “Get out.”

Hewitt stood, dropped his card on the table and walked to the door. “Perhaps I should have a chat with your ex.”

Connie grabbed a wine glass and ran to the door. “You … ” She threw the glass, and it flew past Hewitt, shattering into several little pieces as it crashed against the door. She stood on her toes, pulled on the top of his shirt and swung with all her might at the tip of his chin. Hewitt grabbed her hand before it connected.

“You want to add assaulting a federal agent to harboring a fugitive?”

Connie ripped her hand away from his. “Screw you.”

Hewitt turned his back to her.

“You have it all wrong,” Connie said, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to lose the baby. I didn’t. I did everything I could.”

Hewitt stopped, closed the door and then turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I know. I know.” He watched Connie continue to cry. “I shouldn’t have gone there.” He escorted her back to the kitchen table. “I’m not really a jerk. I just do my job well.”

Elizabeth cringed and grabbed her head. “Oh, this hurts,” she said, staggering to a nearby well to rest. She took a deep breath, drew some water up in a bucket and splashed it on her face. “Mom, I know. I know all about the danger. Yes, I know about Dad. He wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to explain it to him. He thought I was losing my mind. Just let me do what I have to do. I just want to get out of this awful place.”

She looked into the distance and noticed a series of concrete homes that looked similar.
It could be any one of these houses
. The excitement of seeing Leah again was both joyful and mournful. She relished the thought of giving her a hug but was equally full of anxiety.
She’ll think I’m some sort of freak. Will she run away? Attack me from fear? Will she think I’m a ghost?

She bent down and patted the air. “Hey, boy, what are you doing here? I’ve got to run. Behave.”

Elizabeth hoisted up another bucket of water. She cupped her hands, savored the moisture and repeated the process several more times. Leaning her head in, she lowered the bucket down.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped. She turned and saw Leah. Elizabeth smiled and reached for her, but Leah pushed her away.

“It’s me, Elizabeth,” she said. “Do not be frightened.”

Leah shook her head, turned pale and fainted.

“Oh no,” Elizabeth screamed. She reached into the well and pulled the bucket back up. “Wake up, Leah. Here, I do not have time for this,” she said, splashing water on her face. “Snap out of it.”

She tapped her cheeks a few times and cupped some water. Elizabeth dropped it on Leah and hit her face with short, swift slaps. “Wake up, please.”

Leah blinked several times. Elizabeth continued to splash her with water. “Are you okay?”

Leah mumbled a couple of words that Elizabeth couldn’t comprehend.

“What did you say?” Elizabeth offered her water. “Drink this.”

Leah held the bucket, staring. “You are alive.”

“Yes. For now. We need to get going.”

Leah stepped back, putting her hands in front of her face. “Are you a spirit?”

“In a way,” Elizabeth said. “But I am as real as you are.”

“You cannot be real,” Leah whispered, backing away. “I saw you take your last breath. We buried you. I visited you at your grave. You cannot be alive.”

Elizabeth walked toward Leah. “I am. Feel my hands.” She extended them. Leah first moved away and then touched them, backing quickly away again.

“You do not feel warm. You are cold. You are a spirit.” She backed up several steps.

“No, Leah. I am not.” She picked up a sharp rock and cut the tip of her finger. Blood dripped out. “Look. I bleed. Just like you.”

Leah touched Elizabeth’s hair. “We buried you. You cannot be my Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth opened the locket around her neck. “Matthew. You remember him. We spoke about him.”

Leah blinked several times, shook her head and ran back inside her house. Elizabeth stood frozen as her stomach lurched. “I know, Mom. I don’t need a lecture right now. Yes, yes, I’m going back to Dad as soon as I help her. At least I know where her house is now.”

Elizabeth grabbed her head. “Ugh. Not again.” She straightened up and rubbed her eyes. “I will do my best, Yochanan. I know how much you love her.”

A noise nearby startled her, and she jumped behind the well. The line to the bucket shook and bounced back and forth. Roman soldiers with metal shields across their chests and shiny helmets on their heads pushed their way into nearby homes. They shouted and grabbed men and women, lining them up only a few yards away from Leah’s courtyard.

Two soldiers pointed their spears at a man’s neck. The man held his arms in front of his face, screaming.
Oh, God. Leah. She’s in danger. We have to get out of here.
Her eyes scanned the outer area of the small community, looking for something to use as a weapon. She raced to the back of Leah’s house and grabbed onto the top of the shower stall, hoisting herself up onto the lower portion of the roof. She crawled down the ladder and stumbled to the second floor.

She heard pots and cups crashing and breaking downstairs. Elizabeth crept down a few steps. She leaned and saw Leah struggling with a soldier, her face etched in horror. The soldier swung his spear, missing her head as she fell to the ground.

Haven’t we done this before?

Leah screamed.

“Let her go,” Elizabeth yelled, racing down the remaining steps. She picked up a water jug and rolled it toward the soldier.

He pushed Leah to the ground and leaped over it.

The jug hit Leah in the back as the soldier chased Elizabeth back up the stairs. She climbed to the top and crawled toward the steep portion of the rooftop. The soldier took three big steps and lunged toward her. Elizabeth rolled out of the way and the Roman tumbled several feet, falling off the roof.

She lay on her stomach and held onto the edges with her hands. She looked down and saw the soldier groaning, his helmet bent into his cheek, blood pouring from a big gash. Elizabeth took a deep breath and saw the ladder shaking. Eyeing the proximity of the roof to the ground, she prepared to make her escape with a leap.

As two soldiers climbed up, one ordered, “Stop, woman!”

Elizabeth held her arms up in a gesture of surrender. “Stick it.” She turned, held her breath and sprinted off the roof.

Her legs stung as she fell to the ground. She protected her head as she tumbled several feet. “That wasn’t so bad,” she said, wiping off her legs as she looked around. “Leah,” she cried out.

Elizabeth took several steps back inside the courtyard. “Come with me, hurry!”

She turned to look toward the well as a sharp ping opened a gash on her back. She grimaced. A soldier grabbed her arm and spun her around. Another Roman pulled her hair and pushed Elizabeth to her knees.

“Halt,” one soldier yelled, pointing his spear at her throat. Leah was behind them, her hands tied. She lowered her head as the soldiers picked Elizabeth up.

Another Roman took his helmet off and sneered. He pulled back his arm, spear in hand. Leah struggled to get loose. A soldier struck her in the side of the head. She fell to her knees. A Roman on a horse galloped into the courtyard and put his arm up. He dismounted and grabbed the spear pointed at Elizabeth, pushing the threatening soldier away.

“I am trying, Yochanan,” Elizabeth said. She struggled to get loose from the Roman holding her arms. “Where is the weapon, Yochanan? Tell me.”