Evidence of Mercy

  He could have sworn her eyes were twinkling as she smiled up at him. “That’s so rare these days. Frankly, I worry about every couple that comes in here. I pray for them.”

  “Good for you,” he said. “Good for you.”

  She cleared off the papers she’d had them sign and stuck them in the appropriate bins. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “I need to look up some public records.”

  “All right,” she said, grabbing a form out of another bin. “Just fill this out, and I’ll show you how to find them. What exactly are you looking for? A person or a property?”

  “A person, but that might lead me to real estate.”

  “That’s fine. And what is the last name of the person you’re looking for?”

  He almost gave her Lynda’s last name then realized that there had been too much publicity about the attempts on her life. “Barnett,” he said finally. “Frank Barnett.”

  “All right,” she said, taking the form back and checking the fake signature. “Just follow me. We have A through J in this room.”

  She took him to a huge room full of volumes of public records for Pinellas County and led him to a computer where she showed him how to find the name of the person he was looking for, see the list of documents the county had on that person, and determine what volume the record was in.

  He thanked her profusely then waited as she left him alone.

  The moment he typed in Lynda’s name, two listings came up. Quickly he jotted down where to find her birth certificate and the documents pertaining to her property. There was no record of a marriage license or a divorce or any judgments against her or any other documents.

  Leaving the computer, he found the book with her birth certificate and flipped through it until he found her name. There she was.

  As if he’d found some crucial bit of information, he stared down at it with a smile and quickly jotted down both parents’ names and her birthdate in case he ever needed it.

  The documents on her house would be useless now; the house was burned, so she wouldn’t be going back. He went back to the computer and typed in her mother’s name.

  A list of records emerged, and he jotted down the number of the book that had records on her property. He scanned the list again, looking for anything else he could use and saw her death certificate.

  Dead end, he thought, clearing the screen.

  He punched in her father’s name. Again, he jotted down the property book and came across another death certificate.

  Frustrated, he sat back in the chair.

  All right, he told himself, don’t give up yet. There’s got to be something here.

  Looking down at his note paper, he noticed a connection. One of the numbers on the list of Lynda’s properties matched the book number for the property on both of Lynda’s parents. Had she inherited their home? If so, it surely wasn’t the one that had burned down—that one had been far too new and expensive.

  He flew to that book, pulled it out, and shuffled through the pages until he came to what he was looking for—A house on the other side of town, bought forty years ago; ownership had been transferred to Lynda three months ago upon the death of her father!

  He banged his fist on the table then waved it over his head in exhilaration. This was it! It had to be. She was staying in her father’s home, and he had found her! Paige and Brianna were probably there with her!

  He slammed the book shut but didn’t bother to put it back. Quickly, he went back to the computer, cleared the screen so no one would link him to her, and headed out without another word to the clerk.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  It had been months since the garage apartment had even been opened and years since it had been used for more than storage. With Paige’s help, Lynda cleaned all of the junk out of it then set about scrubbing. A thick layer of dust had settled over every piece of furniture, and the bedspread and sheets and curtains all smelled musty. She gathered them all up to wash while Paige vacuumed the mattress and couch, the recliner, and the carpet, which really didn’t look so bad considering how old it was.

  “Does this Jake person know about me?” Paige asked in a slightly troubled voice as she worked.

  “Yes. I told him last night.”

  “Mmmm.” She coiled the cord on the vacuum cleaner then got her bucket from Brianna, who was sitting in the empty bathtub, “scrubbing it” with a dry brush. “So you say he’s paralyzed? He can’t walk?”

  “No, he can’t. What’s the matter, Paige?”

  Paige shrugged. “I don’t know.” She started to say something, stopped then tried again.

  “What is it, Paige? What’s on your mind?”

  Paige leaned back against a wall and looked down at her feet. “I was thinking. Maybe it’s time we went on home.”

  “Home? Are you serious?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, Jake’s coming, and you won’t be alone any more.”

  “But Paige, what about Keith?”

  Paige thought that over for a moment. “He’s probably cooled down by now. His rages don’t usually last that long. He’s probably feeling real bad about what he did, and when he gets like that—sorry and all—he can be okay. Maybe I don’t have to be afraid of him.”

  Lynda wanted to scream at her that she was being stupid, but if her time with Jake had taught her anything, it was that she had to learn diplomacy. “Paige, if you go back home and have any contact with him at all, it could ruin our case. And it could get you killed.”

  When Paige covered her face with her hand, Lynda stepped closer. Removing Paige’s hand and making the young woman look at her, she said, “Paige, what’s really wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just homesick. And with Jake coming—I don’t know; I’m just not very comfortable around men.”

  “But you weren’t uncomfortable with Larry or Tony.”

  “I didn’t have to be alone with them much. Besides, I knew they were protecting me.”

  “Well, think of Jake as protecting you, too. And you’re not really going to be alone with him. I’ll be here.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll be going back to work soon.” She caught herself and tried to rally. “I’m sorry. You’re helping me, so you have every right to help him, too. It’s awfully nice of you. I’m sure he needs help. I’ll get over it.”

  “But will you get over it here or at home?”

  Paige met Lynda’s eyes, and Lynda saw the struggle there. “You’d hate me if I went back home, wouldn’t you?”

  “No, Paige, but I think you would hate you.”

  “But I’m not considering taking him back. Not at all. I just miss things being familiar.”

  Lynda sat down and studied the carpet for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Paige, familiarity has a lot of power. That’s why you went back to Keith all those times before. It probably had a lot to do with familiarity, didn’t it?”

  Paige nodded.

  “And if you let familiarity cause you to put yourself in danger again, don’t you think that when—not if, but when—Keith shows up, he’ll be able to convince you one way or another to take him back for that same familiarity?”

  “Maybe, but—”

  “Paige, he might take Brianna this time and go so far that you’d never see her again. The court date isn’t that far off. He’s bound to be getting desperate.”

  Paige’s face changed, and she glanced into the bathroom at Brianna, who was singing the theme from “Barney.” When she looked back at Lynda, she whispered, “You’re right. Absolutely.”

  Lynda got up and faced Paige head on. “Paige, Jake’s paralyzed. Why would you be worried about what he might do?”

  “That’s the crazy part. I know he won’t hurt me if he’s your friend, and I know he couldn’t if he wanted to. But—men are so unpredictable to me. I never knew what to expect with Keith. Just when I thought I had all my bases covered, he’d show me that I didn’t.”

  “
You have them covered now, Paige. Right?”

  Her sigh suggested she wasn’t sure. “Maybe being around Jake is what I need now. Maybe he’ll restore my faith in men.”

  Lynda wished she could say that was possible, but she wasn’t so sure. “Well—he’s a little scary-looking right now. He has a patch over his eye and a big scar down his cheek, and he’s not the most pleasant person to be around because he’s so angry about his injuries. But I’ve watched him change since I met him. In big ways. And he’s going to keep changing. He’ll have to if he’s going to make it. But he’d never hurt you or Brianna. More likely, he’ll keep absolutely to himself, and you won’t see him at all except to take him meals.”

  Paige regarded Brianna, still sitting in the empty bathtub. “I guess I should realize how lucky I am,” she said. “I have my legs, both eyes, and I have Brianna.” She smiled and turned back to Lynda. “And I have you. So does he. Because of that, I promise to make him feel welcome here.”

  “Thank you, Paige. I knew I could count on you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  * * *

  Keith knew better than to drive down her street; it looked like a dead end. Instead, he parked his car a couple of blocks away in a small church parking lot and walked into the thick woods that lined one side of the street, except where it had been cleared for houses. There were only about three houses on the street, two right at the entrance and one secluded down at the dead end. He worked his way quietly through the woods, trying not to be seen.

  There was someone outside at the first house he passed, a man working in the garden, so he assumed that wasn’t the house. He crept forward until he had a clear view across the street and read the numbers on the opposite house. That wasn’t it, either.

  So it must be the one at the far end of the street. He stole through the trees and came up to the cyclone fence that defined the property. But there was no sign of any of them. He needed to get around front to see if he could identify one of their cars.

  He was just about to risk stepping out of the woods when the back door opened. Keith froze.

  He saw his little girl bounce out, and his heart melted.

  It had been so long since he’d seen Brianna happy. The last few times she’d been screaming her lungs out, after all those ideas Paige had put into her head about him. But once he got her, he would manage to erase those ideas and turn them back on Paige. Then Brianna would be just as happy with him as she was now without him.

  He trembled with anticipation as she walked out into the yard, talking to her doll as she went, and he poised himself to act the moment she came close enough. He could reach over the fence, grab her, and have her out of here before Paige even knew she was gone.

  He wished he’d brought some candy or something to keep her quiet until they got away.

  But then Paige came out with a broom and started sweeping the back porch. That was her, always cleaning, as if she couldn’t stand to sit still.

  Well—too bad. He would grab Brianna anyway, whether Paige saw or not. Maybe he could get out of there before she could get to the phone—

  No. That was ludicrous. He’d be arrested before he got his car started. And he’d probably wind up in jail. This time, McRae would probably wash his hands of him, and he wouldn’t have an advocate in court, and that lady lawyer would convince the judge that he was dangerous.

  Quietly, he sat down on the ground behind a bush and watched, waiting for Paige to go back in and for Brianna to come near the fence. His only hope was to take her when Paige wasn’t watching, so he’d have a head start in getting away.

  But that wasn’t going to happen today.

  Paige said something to the child, and Brianna turned and frolicked in behind her mother. The door closed.

  He didn’t move. Maybe they would come back out. Maybe Brianna would stray out here alone. . . .

  He heard another door close, one he couldn’t see from this position and then a car door. In seconds, he heard the car in the driveway starting.

  They were leaving!

  Jumping up, he ran through the trees back toward his car parked at the little church, hoping to catch up with them and follow them. But by the time he was behind the wheel, they were nowhere in sight.

  Cursing his luck, he slammed his hand against the wheel. Didn’t it always happen this way? Fate just kept working against him.

  But it wouldn’t forever. Sooner or later, something had to give. He thought of the possibilities, now that he knew where they were living. He couldn’t set this house on fire because Brianna might be hurt. And if he installed the car bomb here, Brianna might be in the car or nearby when it blew up. No, he couldn’t do anything that might put her in danger again. But he could watch the house; he could follow Lynda and, when she got to where she was going, fix a little surprise in her car. Or, if he kept watching, sooner or later Paige would take her eyes off Brianna and he could grab her. Either way, when the chance came, he would be there.

  Time was running out, and he was getting anxious. But he was several steps ahead of the game already.

  And he intended to win.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  * * *

  The morning Jake was to be released Lynda gave the garage apartment one final inspection. It was clean now, and she’d moved things around to accommodate his wheelchair. While the room wasn’t as luxurious as he was probably used to, it was certainly better than a hospital room. She sat down in her father’s recliner, which she’d asked Larry to move out here for Jake, and looked around at the small rooms her father had so lovingly built for her.

  She had never forgotten the ribbon-cutting ceremony her parents had had for her the day she’d moved into the room. Her father had made a little speech in which he told her that while this room signified her independence from her parents, its proximity to the house symbolized that no matter how independent she grew or how far away she moved, she would always belong to them. Always.

  As she sat here now, breathing the familiar scents and absorbing the warm colors and textures, she missed her parents. As much as she’d wanted to believe she was independent when she’d moved into this room, she had been far from it. Her parents had helped her to take her first leap out of the nest gracefully. They had made it easy for her, until she’d learned to fly on her own.

  In many ways, Jake was like she had been then. She would have to teach him that he could be independent and that he could make it on his own. But she also wanted to teach him who he belonged to. And she surprised herself—she who had been so long without darkening the doorway of a church—with the fervency of her desire that Jake understand this.

  She bowed her head and whispered a heartfelt prayer that this room would be blessed and that God would change Jake here. Then she got out the Bible she had bought especially for him and slipped it into the drawer of the end table beside the recliner. She wouldn’t mention it; he would have to discover it for himself. She only hoped she would be able to help him understand the truth of its message.

  She couldn’t preach to him or force him. All she could do was pray for him.

  Jake’s life—both physical and spiritual—was in God’s hands.

  Allie walked beside Jake’s wheelchair as he left the hospital, letting him push the wheels to move it along. He couldn’t believe they were sending him home like this, still unable to walk. Oh, Allie had taught him how to function well enough in day-to-day activities, and now that he could sit all the way up and had this smaller, more maneuverable chair, he was much more capable. But he still didn’t like it. Hospitals are supposed to heal people, not teach them how to cope with their brokenness.

  But the alternative—staying in the hospital—was worse. He’d rather be going away somewhere, even if it wasn’t home.

  Lynda had brought the car to the front entrance. She had dressed up for the occasion, he saw, and had pulled her hair up in a loose chignon. He wondered why she’d bothered.

  “Do you need help getting in, Jake?”
she asked.

  He wasn’t sure whether he did or not but decided not to accept it anyway. “I can do it,” he said, sidling his chair up to the open car door.

  “You can do it, Jake,” Allie said, not offering a hand to help. “Just use your arms and your stomach.”

  He could feel them all holding their breath as he got his arms into position then slid his body onto the car seat.

  As if he’d just completed some Olympic feat, they all congratulated him. He felt like a toddler who’d just gone to the potty by himself, and the idea of such pathetic enthusiasm worsened his mood.

  Lynda closed his door and got into the driver’s side, but Allie came to his window. Jake lowered it.

  “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean you can neglect your therapy, Jake. I want you back here at nine tomorrow, and Lynda can just plan to leave you for six hours or so. We’ll see if we can get some more of your toes to burn.”

  He smiled in spite of himself; he liked the sound of that. “I’ll be here.”

  And as they drove away from the hospital, Jake wasn’t sure whether to consider it a beginning or an ending. To him, it seemed as though he left the old Jake back there in the morgue, and he didn’t yet know who the new Jake was.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  * * *

  A butterfly lit on Keith’s shoulder, and he waved it away and peered between two bushes to the yard where Brianna played. Paige had set up a little tea party for her, and she had all her dolls in attendance. He smiled as she talked aloud to her friends and herself like a little princess to her courtiers.

  But as always, Paige was right there, hovering over her. Calculating the distance to his car, which he’d parked on the closest street behind Lynda’s house through the woods, he tried to decide whether he should chance jumping the fence and grabbing Brianna. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he wiped it on his sleeve. He would have the advantage of surprise. Paige would probably be stunned long enough for him to get Brianna. It would probably take less than ten seconds to get back over the fence and maybe another thirty to get back to his car. By the time Paige stopped screaming and got to the phone, he would have blended into the cars on the main road a mile or so away.