Vanishing Act. Liz Johnson
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apartment, slamming it behind her. The deadbolt clicked into place, and she hurried to the window, peering through the blinds into the gravel parking area next to Andy’s Auto Shop.
Empty. It was completely deserted.
Her racing heart started slowing down when she sank to the floor beside the little love seat in her living room. As the adrenaline drained from her system, her eyes drooped and her brain shut down.
“Lord, why am I suddenly so afraid?”
THREE
Nate woke with a groan, his neck and shoulders aching from the lumpy couch on which he was sprawled. He rotated his shoulders a couple of times and bent his neck from side to side to make sure that everything was in working order. He tried to focus on the contents of the folder spilled across the coffee table in front of him, but his eyes were blurry, and rubbing them didn’t seem to help.
“Coffee,” he grumbled, as he pushed himself up toward the mini kitchen. “Must have coffee.”
He considered drinking the dregs in the bottom of the pot from the night before but thought better of it. He’d only done it a couple of times before and always as a last resort. Things hadn’t gotten that desperate yet.
He rinsed out the pot, scooped frozen grounds into the filter and then pressed the orange start button. The machine was probably older than his little sister Jenny, and she had just graduated from college. But at least the thing worked. Soon the sweet aroma of morning caffeine filled the kitchen and adjoining living room, and he poured himself a big mug. No cream. No sugar. Just the good stuff.
Sighing as he and his mug sank back into the couch, he rubbed his watery eyes one more time. Now he could clearly see the shuffled papers on display. Lots of legal forms, a police report, the accounts of the witnesses and the confessions of two men for their participation in the shooting of Parker James and kidnapping of Nora. Neither had turned over on their leader.
On top of the mess sat the two pictures that seemed to hold the weight of the case.
He took another gulp of coffee and leaned his head back to rest on the couch. Closing his eyes, he thought about where he might find her. Where would she hide out in a small town? Where would she go for comfort in the face of fear?
Parker had said Nora never missed a Sunday service, and if she needed comfort and community, he guessed, she’d go straight to a welcoming congregation.
Hurrying to change his clothes and get presentable, he gulped down the last of his coffee and sprinted to his room. In seven minutes flat he was out the door, ruffling his still-damp hair, so it would dry in the sunlight.
He’d seen a large white building with a steeple on the hill just a couple blocks from the college. Its central location and large size made it a prime place to start. If she wanted to stay hidden, then finding a large congregation would be important. From experience he knew that small churches usually meant that everyone knew everyone else’s business. Bigger church bodies tended to have caring people, but so many of them that one could find anonymity among the masses.
He hiked the blocks uphill with a little hop in his step. Danielle had said to come by for his car in the afternoon, and it was almost noon now. He’d have time to scope out the church, and then walk over to the garage to finally get his car back.
The church building was large and cool inside. He entered the foyer through open double wooden doors leading into the enormous sanctuary. Like so many churches of the day, this one had rid itself of pews. In their place rows of chairs lined the carpets. He guessed there were seats for at least a thousand.
A man with gray hair, wearing a blue T-shirt and black jeans stood at the end of the center aisle. “Help you with something?” he asked.
Nate shook his head. “I don’t think so. Just new in town and wondering about the church. When are services?”
“I don’t know. I just clean the place.” The older man shrugged then pointed to Nate’s left. “The office is thataway.”
Nate nodded appreciatively and slowly walked down the short hallway. Sure enough, just a couple of yards down a sign hung above a door announcing the church office. Through the window beside the door, he could see a middle-aged woman sitting behind a large desk, her ear glued to the phone and lips moving rapidly. He entered in stealth mode as she murmured, “You’ll just never guess what she said.”
When the door clicked closed behind him, the office manager looked up, her smile a little guilty. Then it turned inquisitive as she didn’t recognize him. “I’ve got to go, Ruth. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
After hanging up the black handset, she said, “Well, hello, there. What can I do for you today?” Her smile was bright, even if her eyes still held questions.
Nate offered her a genuine smile, hoping to loosen her tongue a little bit. “I’m new in town, and I was thinking about coming here on Sunday. What time are the services?”
Without breaking eye contact, she swiped a little brochure from a stack on the counter and flipped it open. “I’m Judith McMurphy—church secretary. So nice to meet you.” She held out one hand with her palm facing down. Nate gripped it in an awkward shake.
“Nate,” he supplied.
“So, Nate, what brings you to Crescent City?” she asked. A quick glance down revealed that she had moved her hand to cover so much of the brochure that he couldn’t read the times listed under her pinky finger.
“I’m a freelance travel journalist. Working on some stories about winter activities in Colorado, so I thought I’d set up shop here for a while and take a college class or two while I’m at it.”
Seemingly ignoring his cover ID as a journalist, she said, “Oh, we have lots of you young college kids here at Sunday morning services.”
Ha! She thought he was young? That was a laugh. His back still ached from sleeping on that terrible couch, and he could barely go twenty-four hours without sleep anymore, if his drive into town was any indication. At thirty-four, he was far from young—but he wasn’t about to correct her.
“What classes are you taking?” Judith asked, leaning a little bit closer to him. He opened his mouth, but she said, “Wait. Let me guess. Journalism?”
He fought the guffaw that bubbled in his chest and instead only let a grin cross his face. “Good guess.” If he could pass for the writer type with her, maybe he’d be able to pull off his cover.
The wrinkles around Judith’s mouth deepened as she smiled, probably thinking herself the perfect judge of him. “Well, like I said, we have lots of young people from the college here. Let’s see…Jud, Shelley and Chris. Oh, and the new guy. He’s only been once or twice. What’s his name…Kirk.”
“Kirk? Kirk Banner?”
“Oh, you know him?” Her eyes popped open.
Nate nodded nonchalantly. He’d briefly met Kirk at the previous night’s class. He’d stayed after, talking with Danielle and Ivey. And while there was absolutely no evidence to corroborate his gut feeling, Nate didn’t much care for the guy. Something about him just didn’t seem right.
“Well, that’s wonderful!” Judith’s smile widened and she leaned forward so that only a few inches separated them. Tipping her head even farther forward, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “So, Nate, tell me. Are you seeing anyone right now? I can think of at least three very eligible, lovely girls.”
He almost choked on his own tongue, but managed to compose himself quickly. He opened his mouth to speak, not even sure how to respond to that statement, when Judith interrupted him as though she hadn’t even asked a question. Ticking them off on her fingers, she said, “Let’s see there’s Rebecca, she’s a freshman. Maybe a little young for you.”
Nate bit his tongue to keep from saying, “You think?” “Yea, I think someone in her mid-twenties might be a better