Witness (46 page)

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Authors: Beverly Barton

BOOK: Witness
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He changed the pace of their lovemaking, increasing the tempo, deepening his thrusts. He was on the verge, and so was she. Together they splintered into shards of unequaled ecstasy, Jeannie sharing his pleasure as he shared hers. Panting heavily, their bodies dripping with perspiration, Sam rolled over onto his side, holding her in his arms, kissing her again and again.

“I love you, Sam. I love you with all my heart.”

“Ah, Jeannie…Jeannie…my sweet angel.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

S
AM MOANED WITH
pleasure. Jeannie smiled at him as she slowly pulled the fork out of his mouth. He chewed the scrumptious bite of blueberry pancake dripping in syrup that she had fed him. They gazed into each other's eyes, silently conveying words of erotic intent as they remembered their night of passionate loving.

Looking at him sitting there in nothing but his slacks, his broad chest bare, Jeannie sighed as her body recalled Sam Dundee's savage possession.

He grinned, enjoying the sight of her, her flawless skin, soft peach lips and warm brown eyes. Tendrils of sun-streaked brown hair curled about her forehead and ears. His body hardened when he thought about her being naked beneath her robe.

Turning his fork sideways, Sam sliced off a piece of his pancake, speared it and lifted it toward Jeannie's mouth. With her gaze focused on Sam, she parted her lips. He slid the morsel into her mouth, watching while she chewed. Laying his fork on his plate, Sam reached across the table and, using the tip of his finger, wiped a trickle of syrup from the corner of Jeannie's mouth. Inclining her head, she captured Sam's finger between her lips and licked off the syrup.

Groaning deep in his throat, he jerked his finger out of her mouth. He knocked over his chair as he stood quickly, then rounded the table and lifted a laughing Jeannie out of her chair. Shoving her breakfast plate, cup and silverware across the table with the back of his hand, he set her on the edge of the table,
opened her silk robe and parted her thighs. In one swift motion, he unzipped his slacks and discarded them.

She gripped his shoulders. He took her mouth at the exact same moment he lifted her hips and plunged into her. The joining was instant, jolting both of them with its power. As their bodies united, their hearts and minds entwined, each experiencing the pure ecstasy of their combined loving.

When they reached fever pitch, Sam groaned hot, shameless words to her, and she responded by abandoning herself to the sheer, pulse-pounding glory of their simultaneous twofold release.

She clung to him in the aftermath, kissing his shoulder as he lifted her and carried her to the bathroom. He drew her a bubble bath and slid her into the tub, then tossed her a washcloth.

“I'll clean up in the kitchen while you take your bath.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose.

The telephone rang. Jeannie tensed. Sam winked at her, the action meant to reassure her that all was well. He closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.

She eased back, resting her head against the tiled wall. They'd been back in Biloxi five days. Julian was definitely on the road to recovery and would probably be coming home in a couple of days. Despite the possibility of a storm brewing in the Atlantic, heading toward the Caribbean, she hadn't given up her hope that Sam and she could take Julian back to Le Bijou Bleu to fully recuperate.

But she couldn't hide away on the island forever, and Sam had a life in Atlanta. Sooner or later, he would have to leave.

Although no doctor had confirmed her pregnancy and she hadn't bothered with a home test kit, Jeannie knew she was carrying Sam's child. She had been able to link with the baby and experience the first stages of her daughter's existence. She was almost four weeks pregnant now, and she still hadn't told Sam. How could she add to his burden of worry? He would want this child, and he would be even more protective and
possessive if he knew. Until the situation with Maynard Reeves was settled, she would wait, keeping her precious secret in the deepest, most private part of her heart.

Sam opened the door, walked in and handed her the portable phone. “It's Marta. She sounds a little odd, but she says everything's all right. She needs to talk to you about one of the students.”

Jeannie took the phone in her hand, then waved goodbye to Sam as he went back into the bedroom. “Hello, Marta.”

“Jeannie, please don't let Mr. Dundee know what I'm saying to you.”

“All right.” Jeannie sensed Marta's fear. “Why don't you tell me what's wrong?”

“When Danette Suddath brought Missy to school this morning, two other women came with her.” Marta swallowed. “We allowed her free access, just as you'd instructed.”

“Are you alone in your office?” Jeannie asked, realizing that something was terribly wrong.

“Yes. They've allowed me to come in here alone. But Jeannie… Oh, dear God, they have guns! They're holding the children hostage.”

Jeannie heard Marta sobbing. “What do you mean, they're holding the children hostage?”

“During our before-school free time in the cafeteria, Danette Suddath and these two other women pulled their guns, each one grabbed a child, and they're holding the whole school hostage.”

“What do they want?” Jeannie asked, but she knew. She glanced at the partially open door, wondering if Sam had gone back into the kitchen.

“They want you, Jeannie,” Marta said. “They're all members of the Righteous Light Church. Danette told me that—that they won't hurt any of the children, if you'll come down to the school.”

“Call the police, Marta. Tell them what's happened. Sam and I will be there as soon as possible.”

“No! I can't call the police, and Sam Dundee must not come here. They said if I called the police or if Mr. Dundee comes with you, they'll start sacrificing the children. That's the exact word Danette used.
Sacrificing.

“They want me to come alone?” Jeannie's mind splintered into a dozen different thoughts, the prime one being the question of how she would ever escape from Sam.

“I don't know what to do, Jeannie. If you come down here, they'll turn you over to Maynard Reeves.” Marta's voice quavered more with each word she spoke. “I think they're expecting him to come here and get you.”

“I understand. I'll find a way to get there. Alone. We can't allow any harm to come to those precious children in our charge.”

“There must be some other way,” Marta said. “If only—”

“Everything will be all right,” Jeannie said. “I'll do what I have to do.”

Jeannie punched the Off button and laid the telephone down on the bath mat beside the tub. Closing her eyes, she said a quiet prayer, allowing her mind to relax and her nerves to calm. She would have to lie to Sam, and she would have to trick him. She hated doing it, but she had no choice. The lives of forty-five children were at stake. Innocent, helpless children with physical and mental limitations that made them even more special to Jeannie. She knew so well the pain these children endured, especially their emotional suffering.

“Sam! Sam, I'm ready to get out of the tub now.”

Within a minute, Sam was at her side, lifting her out of the tub and drying her with a large, fluffy towel. She wrapped her arm around his neck.

“Why don't you go ahead and enjoy my bubble bath? It's still warm,” she said.

“I haven't finished up in the kitchen.” He carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the edge of the bed.

“After I get dressed, I'll take care of that.” She pulled him down toward her, rubbing her cheek against his. “Go on. You need a bath. You smell like…well, you smell.”

Sam laughed. “I smell like you and me. I smell like sex.”

“Yes, you do. You smell like sex.”

“Need any help getting dressed?” he asked.

“You're better at helping me undress.” She shoved him away from her. “Now go get your bath. I can dress myself and finish cleaning up the kitchen without your help.”

“Your wish is my command.” He stripped out of his slacks, which he'd put on again when he returned to the kitchen.

Jeannie watched while he walked to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, turned and smiled at her. When he closed the door, she lifted her cane from its resting place against the nightstand and hurried to the closet. She dressed as quickly as she could, dug the keys to her Lexus from her purse and walked out of the bedroom.

Easing the front door closed, she breathed a sigh of relief when it made only a faint clicking sound. She slid behind the wheel, started the engine and backed out of the driveway, holding her breath all the while.

“Please, forgive me, Sam. I have no other choice.” She whispered the words aloud, knowing that Sam had already sensed that something wasn't quite right.

When she pulled out into the street, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Sam Dundee ran into the yard, a towel draped around his hips. He screamed her name.

Tears blurred Jeannie's vision as she pressed the accelerator. The Lexus flew down the street and out of Sam's sight.

 

C
HILDREN'S WHIMPERS AND
muted cries drifted down the hallway. Jeannie gripped her cane as she walked along the empty corridor. She hesitated at the closed cafeteria doors,
uncertain what she would find once she entered, but knowing she was willing to make whatever sacrifice was necessary to save the children.

She flung open the double doors and stepped inside, halting immediately. The children had been divided into three groups. The groups huddled on the floor in three corners of the cafeteria, each group guarded by a woman with a gun. Danette Suddath held her own daughter in front of her as a shield as she brandished a semiautomatic weapon.

“Hi, Jeannie.” Missy Suddath smiled, her round face wrinkling in pleasure lines when she saw Jeannie. “My mama's playing a game with us. It's like cops and robbers. Did you come to play with us?”

“Yes, Missy, I came to play with you.” Jeannie clenched her teeth, willing herself to stay calm and unemotional for the sake of the children.

“Come on in, Jeannie Alverson!” Danette shouted. “Your days of evil are about to end.”

“Suffer not a witch to live!” A plump middle-aged woman with long, straight salt-and-pepper hair tightened her hold on little seven-year-old Amelia Carson, who'd been born marginally retarded. Clasping a small-caliber gun in her hand, she laid it across Amelia's chest.

“I've followed your instructions,” Jeannie said. “I've come alone, without the police or Sam Dundee. You have what you want. Please release the children.”

“Such concern for these little ones.” The baritone voice came from a tall, slender woman who held the third group of children in the far right corner. She lifted six-year-old Justin Walker, blind since birth, up on her hip. Justin screamed. The woman placed her hand, which held a gun, over the little boy's mouth.

Jeannie sucked in a deep breath. “Please, put him down. You're frightening him.”

“Hush now, child,” the tall woman, who was wearing a
frumpy floral-print dress, said. “If Jeannie loves you, really loves you, none of you will need to be sacrificed.”

Jeannie couldn't bear the thought of a child being harmed because of her. How could these women threaten the children, when they claimed to be believers in a religion of love and compassion?

“I'll leave with you,” Jeannie said. “I'll go with you to Maynard Reeves without protest.”

All the teachers had been lined up against the wall on the far side of the cafeteria. Jeannie looked at them, one at a time, hoping to convey hope and love. Marta McCorkle was conspicuously absent.

“Where's Marta?” Jeannie asked.

“Ms. McCorkle is in her office,” Danette Suddath said. “She's there to answer the phone and make sure the outside world thinks everything is normal here at the Howell School.”

Jeannie sighed with relief. For one split second, she had feared for Marta's life. “My car is outside. The keys are in the ignition. We can walk out of here, and you can take me to Reverend Reeves. Right now.”

“We won't need your car,” Danette said, forcing her daughter to walk around her classmates sitting on the floor. “Our plans are already made.”

“All right.” Jeannie walked into the room, slowly moving toward Danette. “I'm prepared to go with you, on your terms.”

Missy Suddath took a step toward Jeannie. “Are you a bad guy?” the child asked. “They're calling you ugly names. I don't like you playing bad, Jeannie.”

“I'm not really bad. Remember, this is just a game.” Jeannie reached out her hand to Missy.

“No! Don't touch her!” Danette jerked her daughter close to her side, the gun she held resting over the child's body. “I won't have you contaminate her with your evil.”

“Danette, surely you know I'd never do anything to harm
Missy,” Jeannie said. “She's been attending the Howell School for four years, and she's made excellent progress. All of us here love her.”

“Enough talk.” The tall, deep-voiced woman marched around her charges. Justin shivered in the big woman's arms, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed.

“Justin, don't be afraid,” Jeannie said. “I'm here in the room with you.”

“I don't like this game,” Justin said, choking back his tears. “I don't wanna play anymore.”

The woman holding Amelia walked toward Jeannie. “The game will end soon,” she said. “As long as Jeannie does exactly as she's told.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jeannie asked.

“You'll come with us. My friends and I will walk out of the school to the parking area, where our cars are waiting.” The woman in the floral-print dress secured her hold on Justin and lifted her gun to the child's head.

Jeannie was thankful Justin couldn't see, that he really didn't understand what was happening. “Yes, I'll come with you. Just put Justin down, and don't harm any of the children.”

The tall woman grinned. Jeannie gasped, suddenly realizing that the person holding Justin was a man disguised as a woman. Maynard Reeves!

His grin widened when he looked directly into Jeannie's eyes. She knew he was aware that she'd recognized him.

“Danette will take her daughter with her,” Reeves said. “I'll take Justin. Nora will take the little girl with the blond pigtails. And we'll need five or six more children as escorts. All of us will walk out of here together.”

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