The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) (50 page)

Matt frowned. “You’re positive?”

“Yep.”
He crunched a few more nuts.

“So whoever this guy is, he
’s someone besides Jason Dent. But w
hy would he do that?” All sorts of unsavory possibilities ran through his mind.

The
investigator
shrugged. “
Don’t automatically assume the guy’s a criminal or wanted.
Sometimes
it’s for legitimate reasons
.”

“
Such as
?”

“Maybe an unfortunate accident that would be associated with him for life if he kept the same name.
Or perhaps he’s operating undercover for his real job.”

“You mean
a spy?”

The guy’s brows disappeared under his shaggy hair.
“Or someone
like
me.”

Matt considered the statement. It could be true, but the possibility still existed that he wasn’t a good guy at all. He
reached in his back pocket,
removed his wallet,
and handed
the guy
the agreed upon amount. “
Thanks for your time
.”

“Sure thing.”
The man
pockete
d
the money
and
exited through the side
door.

Matt’s mind whirled. Now what? Andy deserved to know that
his law partner wasn’t really named Jason Dent
. M
ore importantly, Gracie needed to know.
But h
ow could he tell her
if she wouldn’t answer her phone?
He rubbed a hand across his mouth
and
eyed the clock.
T
oo late to call
tonight
anyway
.
It would just have to wait until
first thing in the morning
.

With a weary sigh, he trudg
ed
up the steps to
the stage to help
tear down and
load the equipment. He
removed
his guitar
from its stand
and ambl
ed to the case
which sat beneath a speaker tower
that Derek disassembled
. Matt snap
ped the last latch
on his case as
Derek’s voice cried out.
“
Matt, watch i
t!”

He looked up as
a speaker sped toward him
.
Th
en
everything went black.

Grace
peer
ed
around
the unfamiliar landscape
. Where was she? A pristine
country church, its steeple scraping
bullet
-
gr
ay skies
,
lay
beside plowed fields
. Distant trees
,
leaves missing
,
took on a haunting persona in the dense fog
as they stretched out
brown claws
.

Her legs attempted to shift position, but felt leaden and heavy. She sensed that she needed to figure
this out. Needed to understand
so she could make the right decision.
T
he whi
te tent
above her head
rippled and popped
in a brief b
urst of cold wind
, then sagged
,
dead-still.

A
congregation
of people she knew and lo
ved
s
at
in perfectly-placed rows of metal folding chairs at
op
fake
turf
. T
he
unfamiliar
place reminded her of
a
graveside service where
heavy rains
had
lef
t
a muddy mess.

A frown creased her forehead.
The
people didn’t talk or smile or even move. L
ike cardboard cutouts they sa
t, apathetic and uncaring, unable to help
. A center aisle stretched down the narrow,
m
akeshift church, and men
in dark suits gathered at the back, ready to pr
oceed down the corridor of
plastic grass.
Grac
e was
suddenly aware of someone
behind her. She turned.

Dressed in an exquisit
ely-tailored black suit, Jason ducked beneath the tent top, h
is
face
cold
and expressionless. In one hand he carried a
Bible. With
his lips mold
ed in
a grim line
, he nodded to
the men in
back, and they advanced, their faces long and somber.

When they reached the front they spread out in a straight li
ne and revealed
two suited men
who
ac
companied Matt. I
n his normal attire of
jean
s, t-shirt
,
and flip-flops, his hands were
bound
and
his ankles
shackled.

At the sight of his ropes and chains h
er
throat grew dry and gravelly
, and she
jerked her gaze to his face. His eyes held an incredible sorrow, like she’d somehow let him down. Or
had he let her down? She
lowered her head
and
for t
he first time noticed the
forest-green tren
ch coat she wore. Her hands, stuffed in the pockets, shifted until she
g
ripped something cool and hard.

A gun.

Grace
tremble
d
as her hand conformed to the pistol, her index finger against the trig
ger.

Jason nod
ded to
the men once more, and
like
menacing
shadows
,
they
advanced
toward Matt
.
Heart racing, she attempt
ed
to pul
l the gun from her pocket. He
had to be stopped.
But her hand froze
in place.
She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t
force
herself
to repay evil with evil
,
no matter
the
cost
.

Far-
away v
oices sounded
, but no
ne
of the cardboard people moved their lips
.
A
rapping soun
d broke through the foggy mist.
With a moan, she stirred and sat up in bed
, the dream
more vivid than
reality
. What time was it?

The
bedroom
door cracked ever so slightly. “Sorry to wake you,
la
hija
, but I wanted to let you know
I was
home.”

Grac
e scrambled from the bed.
“Papa!
I’m so glad
to see you. I missed you.” Sh
e engulfed him in a hug, which
he surprisingly
returned.

“I
missed you, too
. T
here is someone I want you to meet.” He
smiled at her
then
motioned down the hallway for someone to join him.

Every nerve in her being instantly
snapped to attention
as footsteps pattered outside her door
. What was going on? Was she still dreaming?

A
round
Hispanic woman
with a beautiful smile
stepped into view, and Papa put an arm around her shoulder. “Graciela,
meet
my new wife, Maria.”

Her jaw unhinged
as his words landed a blow
. In a daze, she somehow managed to move forward and shake the
woman’s hand, but couldn’t find her voice
.

A reprimand moved into Papa’s eyes
,
and he opened his mouth to give words to
the stern look, but the woman
placed a hand on his arm. “It’
s late, Juan. I am sure Graciela is tired. Why don’t we talk
about this
in the morning over breakfast, hmm?”

Her father smiled
at the woman
still tucked protectively beneath
his arm and nodded.
“
Si.
”
He turned his gaze bac
k to Grace
. “
Goodnight,
la
hija
.” Without another word, he pulled the door closed, leaving her standing there with her mouth agape.

Grace
fell back on the bed.
First the dream and now this.
Her brain fl
ip-flopped between the two, neither making much
sense.
Why had Jason appeared as the bad guy in her dream, when he’d done nothing but show her kindness after kindness? Earlier that day he’d called to let her know that he not only had a job lined up for her in
Bellview
, but a place to live as well.

She brought both palms to her face and rubbed her sleepy eyes. The dream had nothing to do with Jason and everything to do with her worries of starting a new life in a new location.
And now that Papa had a wife, moving away was for the best. She would just be in the way
here
.

Grace
gauged her feelings about Papa having a wife
.
Never had she imagined he would remarry. T
hough
it
hurt that Mama had been
replaced in his affections,
another part of her rejoiced to see him
happy
again.
A soft curve settled on her lips. Nothing could bring Mama back, so it was good that Papa
had found someone
who could make him happy
.

A shiver moved up her spine, and
for the first time since Papa’s news, she took note of
her
bare feet
on the cold
floor
. Grac
e rush
ed to the dresser,
locate
d a pair of
wooly
socks
,
and
slipped
them
on. Next she remov
ed her thick winter robe from the hook on the back of the door and wrapped
it around her
. There would be no going back to sleep now. Papa was married!

A sudden rush of energy hummed
in her chest. Yes, it was lat
e, and yes, she was wide awake, b
ut it was all good. She’
d
use the
time to pack her clothes and get ready for the move.

An hour later,
spent from her late-night packing
spree
,
she
positioned the last
suitcase in the
corner and yawned. After she returned her robe to its hook, she
crawle
d into bed and clicked off the lamp. Her head had barely hit the pillow when her cell phone buzzed
. Sleepily, she eyed the alarm clock’s bright red
numbers
.
Who could be calling after midnight
?