Beside Still Waters (Psalm 23 Mysteries)
Later that afternoon he was sitting in her room when she woke up.
“Hey, how are you doing?” he asked.
“Hungry,” she admitted.
“That’s a good sign.”
“I thought you were dead,” she said, staring at him with large, moist eyes.
“I was a bit worried about that myself,” he admitted. He wanted to downplay it, but realized he couldn’t and that he probably shouldn’t. She’d had every right to be that afraid.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
She fell silent and he could see that she was still struggling with everything that had happened to her. He stood after a moment and she looked at him with panic in her eyes.
“There are some other people who wanted to say hello. I’m going to go tell them you’re awake and I’ll be right back. Okay?”
She nodded.
~
It felt like Jeremiah was gone for an eternity although she knew it could only really be a couple of minutes. When he returned Kapono, and Charles and Jean, the couple from the luau, were with him. They all took turns hugging her.
“We owe you both a debt of gratitude,” Kapono said. “You’ve solved more cases in the last few days than some people solve in a lifetime.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but I can’t really say I was glad to help.”
He smiled. “Not taken the wrong way at all. I’m sure the two of you just want to go home, but the city would be happy to put you up for a few days, give you a proper vacation.”
She shook her head. “Maybe some other time.”
“Of course. Well, the good news is I just talked to the doctor and he’ll clear you to go home tomorrow as long as everything goes well tonight.”
She nodded, grateful for that bit of news. She wanted to be home in her own bed, and put the entire nightmare behind her. “So, no worry about anything, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
“We were very sorry to hear what happened to you,” Jean said, when Kapono sat down in a chair. “If there’s anything we can do, just let us know.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you for uncovering what was happening on the north shore,” Charles said. “The archaeology firm I work for is headquartered on this island and they’ve been tasked with straightening the whole mess out. Just from the work that’s been done this morning they can already determine that the bodies are from multiple time periods and they’re working to figure out which parts of the island they all came from. I’d say the entire island owes you a debt of gratitude.”
“Not to mention that resort which will most likely be able to continue building,” Jean noted.
“So, they were digging up the bodies from other areas?” Cindy said. “I was wondering about that.”
“You were right,” Jeremiah jumped in. “I questioned Al as one of the suspects in your disappearance and he was able to confirm it.”
“So, he was trying to kill me with that life preserver, I wasn’t just being paranoid?” Cindy asked.
“Not even a little bit paranoid,” Jeremiah confirmed. “He was worried you had uncovered the fact that they were burying bodies from other parts of the island there to halt the building of the resort. They were desecrating graves in the process and because of you everyone associated with that is now in jail.”
“You’re an all around hero,” Kapono said.
She forced a smile. It was good that she had been able to help these people, but being a hero wasn’t always all it was cracked up to be. “I just wanted to go on vacation,” she said.
The others smiled, clearly not sure exactly what to say to her. That’s okay, she wasn’t sure what they could say that would make everything that had happened better.
Finally Charles and Jean left and Kapono and Jeremiah alone remained.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said.
“What?” Jeremiah asked.
“Why go to all the trouble of trying to sink us on that ship instead of just killing us and dumping our bodies somewhere?”
“I can answer that one,” Kapono said. “They knew the navy was planning on reefing one of their old ships to create an artificial reef for fish and divers. By leaving you alive to drown in the ship when your bodies were discovered it would look like you were just a couple of tourists who decided to go exploring somewhere they shouldn’t of and got killed. It could be passed off as some kind of crazy accident. That’s why they didn’t just kill you. Plus, who knows, maybe they were hoping you’d make some sort of last minute bargain to try and save your lives. It’s kind of ironic. All your troubles on the island started when you visited Pearl Harbor and the boat they were reefing was constructed around the same time as the Arizona.”
Cindy thought of how Jeremiah had pushed her out of a portal, saving her life, and knew that irony didn’t even begin to describe it.
~
In the morning she was feeling a bit better and the doctor agreed to release her. When she was shown the clothes she’d been admitted in, though, she was sickened.
Cindy looked down at the tattered remains of Geanie’s little black dress. And for some reason that just made everything worse. Somehow it seemed symbolic of everything that had gone so terribly wrong.
“Clearly you can’t wear that on the plane,” Jeremiah said.
She jumped. She didn’t realize he had entered the room. “No, I guess not.”
“I packed up your things from the hotel and I brought you these to wear,” he said, handing her her blue shirt and a pair of shorts. He also had her tennis shoes and socks. She realized that she had no idea what had even become of her sandals.
“Thank you.”
The next couple of hours seemed to drag by as she got dressed and waited for the final orders from the hospital authorizing her release. It was more waiting and she was sick of it beyond belief.
Kapono showed up to drive them to the airport where there was still more waiting. Finally it was time to board.
Cindy didn’t know how, but they ended up in first class on the flight home. She had to admit that the seats were so much comfier, but after what she’d been through she was sure even the regular seats would feel wonderful. She fell asleep before they even took off.
Jeremiah woke her when it was time to eat for which she was grateful. The food was much better in first class, though again she wasn’t sure how much of that was her current perceptions.
Once she had finished eating she fell asleep again and didn’t wake until they had actually made it to their gate at LAX. Jeremiah carried her small bag for her as they exited the plane. She was still a bit shaky when she walked, but she’d been assured that that would go away in a day or two. She began to think that she’d been foolish to refuse the wheelchair she’d been offered, though.
Still, how was life going to get back to normal if she didn’t force the issue? So, she walked, wobbling occasionally, but resolutely putting one foot in front of the other as they headed to baggage claim. When they had almost reached it she realized that she didn’t even actually know what day it was. Regardless, there was no way she was going back to work in the morning. Normalcy was a great thing, but she wasn’t ready to deal with that quite yet.
When they got to baggage claim she felt herself tear up as she saw Mark, Traci, and Geanie standing there waiting for them. She ran over to Geanie and they hugged tight. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress!” she burst out, not knowing what else to say.
Geanie hugged her tighter. “I don’t care about a stupid dress. I just thank God that you’re home.”
“Causing trouble in other people’s jurisdictions, I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Mark said, with a forced smile. She could see the worry in his eyes, though, and feel the sympathy coming off of him. She gave him a quick hug. Jeremiah had told her what the detective had done for her.
Next she hugged Traci and she could feel the s
ympathy coming off of her in waves. “I know what it’s like. Thanks to you, what I went through wasn’t nearly as terrible, but if you need to talk, I can at least understand,” the other woman whispered.
“Thank you,” Cindy whispered back.
19
Cindy woke up and it took a minute to orient herself. She finally realized she was back at home in her room. She sat up slowly, sore and so very tired. She showered and got dressed and headed out to the kitchen.
Geanie was busy bustling around. She looked up at her with bright eyes. “Morning. I thought you’d like some pancakes.”
“Thank you,” Cindy said, moving to the refrigerator to grab herself some orange juice. Then she sat down at the table which Geanie had already set.
“And, don’t worry, I made plenty.”
Cindy winced. “I guess I went a little crazy when I got home last night.”
“I’ve never seen you eat that much food in a day let alone at one sitting,” Geanie said.
“I guess it takes on a whole different meaning when you suddenly have a fear that you won’t get enough, or that someone’s going to starve you.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Geanie said.
“I pray you never have to.” Cindy took a sip of her orange juice and set it down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get a chance to scope out any hotels as good wedding locations.”
Geanie stared at her like she’d grown a second head and then burst into crazy, cackling laughter. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Cindy hugging her tight.
“I can’t even believe you’re still thinking about that after everything that’s happened.”
“Well, I told you I’d look.”
Geanie hugged her tighter. “Don’t even worry about it. Besides, now that I think about it, who wants to do a small ceremony that no one can come to when we can do a large ceremony and have everyone come?”
Cindy felt a bit justified. She had never exactly pictured Geanie as the small ceremony type, even before she and Joseph got engaged.
“So, that means a wedding around here somewhere.”
“Yes. I think January would be perfect, don’t you?”
Cindy wrinkled her nose. It was so Geanie to go against the flow that way. “There’s a good chance it will rain.”
Geanie pulled away and the smile on her face was priceless. “It’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day.”
Geanie bounded back into the kitchen and returned seconds later with a heaping platter of pancakes which she set down with a flourish. Cindy grabbed a forkful and deposited them on her plate then reached for the syrup.
Geanie said a quick grace, including a thank you for Cindy’s safe return. As soon as it was over Cindy brought a forkful of pancake to her lips.
“I actually have something I wanted to ask you, and, well, I know it’s terrible timing.”
Cindy raised an eyebrow and chomped down on her food while she waited for Geanie to ask whatever it was. The other woman looked suddenly awkward and shy and it seemed so ridiculous. After everything that had happened in the past week Cindy couldn’t imagine what question was that difficult to ask her.
“I was wondering if you would be my maid of honor? I mean, without you Joseph and I would never have gotten together.”
Even though they’d been talking about the wedding, somehow that was the last question Cindy had been expecting. She hastily swallowed the food in her mouth. “Yes, of course!” she said, struggling to sound happy. She was honored to be asked and under different circumstances she would have been thrilled. It was just hard to imagine at that moment that she was ever going to be happy again.
It’s going to take time, that’s all, she told herself. She leaned forward and gave Geanie a quick hug. “Thank you so much for asking me!”
Geanie squealed and clapped her hands. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
Cindy felt a wave of sorrow crash around her. At that moment she’d give anything to be able to have fun. In that moment she realized just how much she had lost out on over the years, first with the way she shut down after what happened to her sister and now the kidnapping. Who knew how long before she would laugh and smile again?
“That sounds great,” she said, sincerely.
As though sensing her mood, Geanie reached out and grabbed her hand. “I don’t know how to be around you,” she said, suddenly.
Tears welled in Cindy’s eyes. “They say with things like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder the most important thing is to just have people around who care about you, who are patient.”
Geanie sighed. “I care about you, but no one on this earth would call me patient.”
“That’s true.”
“But I’ll do my best.”
“So will I,” Cindy promised. “Hopefully in a couple of weeks I’ll be just fine.”
“I’m praying for a couple of days. Told you. Not patient.”
Cindy hugged her again and then went back to her pancakes.
“Oh, I should warn you,” Geanie said. “They’re throwing you a welcome home party at church tomorrow.”
“Is it wrong that I kind of don’t want to go?”
“No.”
“But I guess it’s just as much for everyone else as it is for me.”
“We were all terrified,” Geanie said. “We were holding prayer vigils around the clock in the sanctuary once Detective Walters called and told me you’d been kidnapped.”
“I appreciate it,” Cindy said, tears stinging her eyes again.
“I just wanted you to know ahead of time. Although, I did warn them not to all jump out and shout surprise or anything like that.”
“Thank you,” Cindy said gratefully.
Geanie shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if anybody listened.”
~
Mark was sitting in the Dryer family living room, being stared down by Denise Dryer, the matriarch, and the mother of the real Paul Dryer. Sitting next to her was her daughter, Gretchen, and across the room was Paul’s father, Bryce. The man was letting his wife do all the talking and Mark couldn’t help but feel like he was losing the battle, his one real shot at talking to the Dryer family about their son and his changeling.
“A police officer did inform us of the unfortunate...mix up with the DNA analysis for the body of a child they discovered. I want to reassure you, Mr. Walters, that whoever that was, it was not our son. Our son was a police detective and he died a hero just a few weeks ago. Whoever that other child was I wish they would figure it out so that his mother can have her mind put to rest, but trust me, it was not our boy.”
Denise Dryer had a southern accent, the only one in her family that did, and she was one of the only people in Pine Springs who sported an accent from the other side of the country. She had an imperiousness to her that said that she had always had money. She knew how to command a room.
Mark cleared his throat. He had worked hard to get this interview. He shouldn’t even be there, harassing the family. He was sure the only reason he had made it through the front door was that he had been Paul’s partner. Rather, he had been Not Paul’s partner, but he could sense that he wasn’t going to convince Denise of that.
On some level he guessed she had the right to believe what she wanted. He, however, had an obligation to the truth, and to both Pauls to find out what had really happened to each of them and who Not Paul really was.
“I understand that this is difficult, but perhaps if you can just humor me for a moment on this, I have a few questions.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Walters, but you’re five minutes are up. I let you in to this house because you were a friend to my boy. But we’re done here and you can leave now,” Denise Dryer said as she rose gracefully to her feet.
He stood slowly, struggling not to let his impatience and his frustration show. The last thing he needed was for her to report his visit, especially since he wasn’t there in any official capacity.
He pulled a business card out of his
pocket and put it down on the coffee table. “Thank you for your time. If anyone has anything to say,” he said, sweeping the room with his eyes, “I can be reached at this number.”
The older woman didn’t even acknowledge that he had spoken, just stared fixedly at the space above his head. He set his jaw and turned to go. “I’ll see myself out.”
As he passed through the massive marble foyer he couldn’t help but think about Joseph, the parishioner from First Shepherd he’d had the occasion to run into now several times. He had to move in the same circles as the Dryers, but you’d never guess it from his attitude.
Joseph was a few years Paul’s junior, so they wouldn’t have probably known each other growing up. It was worth asking, though. If nothing else maybe Joseph knew something about the family that could help. Sometimes gossip provided just the right lead that would otherwise go undiscovered.
He was down the long walkway and halfway to his car when he heard running steps behind him.
“Wait!”
Mark turned around and saw Gretchen running toward him. He stopped and she reached him in a moment and put a hand on his arm. “Did you mean it? Paul’s really not my, wasn’t, I mean, my brother?”
Her eyes were soft and pleading and it killed him to nod his head.
“I’m afraid he wasn’t,” he said, trying to say it as gently as he could even though he knew that would do nothing to ease the pain of her loss or her sense of confusion and betrayal that must surely follow.
She nodded her head slowly and bit her lip.
“You knew that already, didn’t you?” he asked with a flash of insight.
“I-I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Gretchen, you have to tell me what you know. I mean, who knows? Maybe he had family, a real sister out there somewhere who never knew what happened to him, just like you never knew what happened to your real brother.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You have to understand. Paul, whoever he was, I’ll always love him, think of him as if he were really my brother.”
“That’s understandable,” Mark said, sensing that she was wavering, at a crossroads. He needed her to choose a path and he needed it to be the one that gave him information. “But he was a detective, unsolved crimes drove him crazy. Someone killed your real brother and for some reason the man we knew as Paul took his place. For all we know he didn’t even realize that he wasn’t your brother. We owe it to both of them to find out what happened.”