“O’Shea and I decided the guy knew too much about you. How’d he pick Juanita and LaToya to hurt? He obviously knows you well enough to know them. It figures he’s been watching you. We wondered just how closely. O’Shea’s checking for listening devices.”
Paul’s breathing slowed until he decided he was going to live. “This is an age where mothers plant bugs and hide cameras so they can monitor their babysitters.”
“That’s right, so bugs and miniature cameras are easy to buy and install. The bugs can be tucked into couch cushions, slipped under a loose flap of wallpaper, hidden inside electrical appliances, air ducts—even sewn into the lining of clothing.”
Paul looked down at the sweatpants he’d slept in and his white T-shirt with the mission logo. “You think they could be in these clothes?”
“Do you just have one outfit you wear day and night?” Keren studied his clothes.
Paul knew it looked a lot like the one he’d worn yesterday. “No, I have several.”
“That are all the same?” A smile quirked Keren’s lips. “Although your sweatpants yesterday were black and these are dark gray. Sorry, I didn’t notice.”
Considering the situation, Paul was real glad she was amused. “I don’t know where anyone could hide a bug in my clothes.”
“A bug or a tracking device.” All the amusement faded from her expression. “We’re checking everything.”
“Tracking device?”
“Well, you said he told you he was watching then sent you running. And he obviously knew when you got to the house, because he blew it up.”
Paul looked up at the buildings that surrounded him. “He could be renting one of a thousand apartments right here. I just figured he meant he’d be able to see me part of the time. That I wouldn’t know when he was there and when not.”
“We’ll be thorough. “With a confident jerk of her chin, Keren said, “If there’s a listening or tracking device anywhere, including in your clothes, we’ll find it.”
“It never occurred to me he might be tracing me electronically. I guess I’ve succeeded in my goal to stop thinking like a cop.” Paul grimaced. “Which is good. I did a lot of damage when I was on the force.”
“I saw your arrest record, your caseload, your solve rate, and your commendations.” Keren dragged her hair tie out and twisted her escaping corkscrew curls tight then anchored it again, all with such automatic movements she didn’t seem aware of it. “You did a lot of good.”
“Yeah, I was a good cop. A great cop. I took every ounce of credit that was due me, and I grabbed a bunch I didn’t deserve.
And while I was so busy being a great cop, my wife kicked me out of the house. It was the second time we’d been separated because I spent all my time working, and when I was home, I took all my anger out on her.”
“Are you divorced? You mentioned a wife yesterday, but it’s pretty obvious she isn’t living in that apartment with you.”
“My wife and my only daughter were killed just before I quit the force.”
“Oh, Paul.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. We’ve been going over your cases, but I haven’t done any checking into your personal background yet.”
Paul thought she sounded more than sorry. She sounded like she felt guilty about something. Just another mystery surrounding Keren’s attitude toward him. “My daughter, Hannah, was four. Trish and I were separated. She accused me of having an affair, but it wasn’t true. The cheating I did was with work. That was my first priority. I was supposed to be with them that night at a preschool program. I was hoping it would be the first step to a reconciliation.” Paul paused for a long time. “Anyway, a case blew up in my face. You know, life and death. Vitally important.”
“I know,” Keren said.
“They got to the program without me. Heaven knows Trish had learned to do everything without me. On their way home, her car broke down; her cell phone must have been dead. They were walking along a deserted stretch of highway when they were killed. The man who hit them, he called the ambulance. He did more for them than I did.” Paul didn’t see any reason to spare himself from the hard truth. “I was awful to him in the hospital. Months later, after I’d become a Christian, I went looking for him, to apologize. But he was dead. I couldn’t ask him to forgive me any more than I could ask Trish and my little Hannah.” Keren snagged his arm and led him on down the cracked sidewalk in one of the toughest neighborhoods in Chicago. She moved at a pace Paul could handle.
“I spent the night after the funeral sitting alone in my empty house, staring at my .38.”
Keren gasped and held his arm tighter.
“I thought about pulling the trigger,” Paul said. He fell silent. At last he said, “It was the most awful feeling of hopelessness. The guilt, the anger. I had so many regrets. I was a pathetic excuse for a human being at that time in my life. In the depths of the darkest night of my life, I asked God why a jerk like me deserved to live.”
Paul looked over at Keren and smiled. “And He answered me, Keren. Not out loud, but clearly, from inside myself. It was unmistakable. It was the purest, most beautiful moment of my life.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“It was so clear and strong that it always anchors me. God told me that if I didn’t want the life He’d given me, then give it away. Give it to someone who needed it. The call God gave me to the ministry was a miracle. Jesus Christ saved my soul that night along with my life. I went to Bible college and ended up being led by God to quit after a couple of years. The old man who’d run the Lighthouse Mission died and it was going to close. Pastor Bob. There were some shoes that were hard to fill.” Paul stopped and looked back at the old building.
“I really believe I’ve done some good here. I’ve found peace and, most of the time, I forgive myself for who I used to be.”
Paul saw some of Keren’s antagonism ebb away.
“I know how tough it is to be a cop and have a home life at the same time,” she said.
“But you’re a Christian, Keren. I wasn’t when I got married. If you married another Christian and the two of you made sincere vows before God, you’d keep those vows. You wouldn’t end up with a broken home.”
“I’ve seen it happen too many times. God needs good people battling evil the same as He needs good people doing mission work. I thought at first I could have it all. I was wrong.” She quirked a smile. “It’s been surprisingly easy to avoid. Not that many guys want a woman who can beat them up.”
Paul smiled. Then, as he thought about what she’d said, his smile faded. “But you’re so beautiful. I don’t believe you don’t have men chasing you.”
Keren looked at him, and, for just an instant, he could see her entirely. See the peace in her soul and the burning quest for justice in her heart. It was a glorious sight. He reached up and laid his hand on her cheek and marveled at her flawless skin. He let those light blue-gray eyes that flashed humor and temper in almost equal parts wash over him.
“You seem so familiar. I must have met you when we were both detectives.” He caressed a curl that had made a prison break. “You don’t remember—”
A door slammed behind him. “Pastor P, you gonna be around for services t’night?”
Paul guiltily dropped his hand.
Rosita bounced toward them, her long black hair dangling over her shoulder in a smooth shining braid, her black eyes flashing humor and youth. In her tight, faded blue jeans and Lighthouse Mission T-shirt, she made Paul feel old and awkward, touching Keren’s hair like some flirting, addle-headed teenager.
Rosita almost blinded them with her perky smile. “Murray’s doin’ okay, but it’s not as good as when you’re there. He’s got Buddy and Louie helping him, and I’ve got a few women picking up the slack in the kitchen, but we need you to come and order us around.”