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  Hewitt grabbed a few pretzels from the untouched basket sitting on the table. He offered the snack to them.

  “I’m on a diet, cowboy,” Connie said, rolling her eyes.

  “I hope you’re not driving tonight,” Hewitt said.

  “No. We aren’t. We’re walking,” said Susan.

  “Is that against the law, cowboy?” Connie asked.

  “I’m glad to hear you aren’t on the road tonight. I’d hate to write you up with a DUI.”

  “Isn’t that a cop’s job?” Connie asked.

  “It is. But I like to help out. Don’t you like to help out in your community?”

  “Depends on what it is,” Connie said as Susan continued to sip her wine.

  The lights dimmed inside the bar as the hour passed midnight. The room was still buzzing from chatter as late-night shoppers stopped by for the evening revelry. Susan’s vision was fuzzy. I hope Connie keeps her mouth shut about the pastor. We have to get out of here.

  They made small chitchat about the weather. As both finished their drinks, Connie motioned to Susan to join her in the bathroom. “Excuse me, Hewitt,” said Susan. “Need to powder my nose.”

  “Take your time,” he said. “I just have a few questions about your relationship with Michael.”

  She waved her hands in the air. “There was no relationship.”

  “Not what I heard.”

  “Susan,” Connie called from the far side of the room. “Are you coming?”

  Hewitt stood as Susan stumbled into a chair. “Oops.”

  “Do you need help?” Hewitt asked.

  Susan put up her hand and waved him off.

  Once inside the restroom, Connie shut the door. “All right, what’s his angle?”

  “Angle?”

  “You think he’s looking to take one of us home?”

  “What?”

  Connie pushed hard against the door to prevent anyone from entering. “It’s how these guys do their work. Ply the woman with liquor, take her to bed and extract info from them. Don’t you go to the movies?”

  Susan moved past her and went into a stall. “Um, no. I think you’ve seen too many movies.”

  Connie paced back and forth for several minutes. “Are you done, yet?” she asked.

  “Cool your jets. I drank a lot.”

  They both heard a thump as something struck the door. Then there was a rapping sound. “Hey, are you ladies in there?” Hewitt asked.

  “Yes. Go away. Give us some privacy. We need two more minutes.” Connie locked the door. “Hurry, Susan. Cowboy is waiting.”

  “I’m hurrying. Jeez.” She emerged from the stall. Her blouse hung over her jeans and her hair was ruffled. She looked into the mirror. “Hey Connie, do you think I’m fetching?” Susan laughed.

  “Knock it off.”

  “How is … is it … you … don’t seem … like me?”

  “You mean, like drunk?”

  “Yuppers.”

  “I took one of those anti-alcohol pills before we started drinking.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got to get out of here. You’ve had way too much to drink. Who knows what you will say to this guy.”

  “Okie dokey,” said Susan as she unlocked the door.

  “No,” shouted Connie, slamming it shut, then locking it.

  “What’s wrong, ladies?” Hewitt asked.

  “We have to leave,” Susan said.

  “Yes, but not that way.” Connie went to the lone window and pulled it up. A cold breeze brushed through the room.

  “Whoa,” Connie said.

  “Are you expecting me to climb down a couple of floors?”

  “It’s only two,” Connie said. “I’ll go first and catch you if needed.”

  “Catch me?” asked Susan. “Are you expecting me to fall? Oh no, I’m not going through that window.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re as light as a feather compared to me. I’ll have no problem catching you. Take my coat and purse. Throw them down when I tell you.”

  Connie slid through the window, her feet dangling until she landed on the fire escape platform. “See, no problem,” she said, holding a thumb up. As she turned, her blouse caught on the metal railing. “Oh, great.” She twisted back toward the window and pulled at the knot. “Terrific. I just bought this blouse on sale at Macy’s. One day and I can’t even get it off when I need to.”

  A ripping sound caused Susan to giggle.

  “Oh, joy,” Connie said, looking down at her torn blouse.

  “Well, looks like the cowboy will want you.”

  “Shut up,” Connie said. “Wait until I’m on the ground before you start down.”

  She staggered down the fire escape to the last step, some ten feet off the ground. “Here goes.” She let go and her heels crumbled. Her backside met the cold ground. “Ouch.”

  “Are you all right?” Susan asked, peering out the window.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Throw me the coats and purses.”

  “Wheeee. Here they come.”

  Connie set them aside against the wall. “Hurry.”

  “Cool your jets. I’m coming.” Her legs came first, and a shoe fell, tumbling to the sidewalk. “Did you get it?”

  “Forget the shoe,” Connie yelled.

  “I love that shoe.”

  “Stop yakking.”

  Susan made it to the last step and looked down. “Oh, I think I’m going to get sick. That’s a big jump.”

  “Stop being a baby. Let go.”

  “Can you catch me?”

  “I’ll catch you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Connie grimaced. “I’m sure.”

  “Count to three.”

  “Oh, Lord. One, two.”

  Susan let go and fell on top of Connie.

  “Three.”

  “Well, that wasn’t so hard,” Susan said.

  “For you.”

  Susan laughed. “Are you hurt?”

  “Only my pride.”

  They both lay there for a few seconds and laughed. “I guess we’re friends now?” Susan asked.

  “Frenemies is more like it. Can you get off of me?”

  “I’ll help you with that.” A strong arm lifted them both off the ground.

  “Oh hi, Hewitt,” Susan said.

  “Where are you ladies going?”

  Chapter 10

  First-century Jerusalem

  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 feelings? 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 hi
s 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.

  Chapter 11

  Modern-Day Long Island

  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.”