Stranger in the Night (8 page)

“We shall not see her again,” Pastor Stephen declared. “She is troubled.”

“Things got rough out here for a few minutes. Anyone would have been shaken up.”

“It is not the attack that alarmed her.” The African’s eyes settled on Joshua. “It is you.”

“It’s not him. It’s me.” Liz curled her toes inside her kitten-heeled pumps as she spoke. She took a deep drink of steaming tea—milk-laced and well sugared. The thick liquid slid into her stomach, lending it a comfort she felt nowhere else. Though autumn had been trying to encroach on St. Louis for several weeks, the air whipping leaves around the sidewalk of the outdoor café was muggy. Even so, she welcomed the hot tea on this Friday afternoon.

“No, it’s not you,” Molly countered. “It’s definitely the Marine. He’s the biggest problem you’ve got. Last night made you want him more than ever. Admit it.”

Molly had ordered a cinnamon roll, picked the almond slivers off the top and eaten them. Now she poked at the roll with her fork, turned it one way and another on the plate but didn’t take a bite.

“You’re wrong about that,” Liz insisted. “What happened last night was a clear message to run. Run as fast as I can from any guy as messed up as Joshua Duff. Did I tell you about the knife?”

“At least three times.”

“It appeared in his hand like magic, Moll. I can’t imagine where he’d been keeping it. The minute those gangbangers got close, he turned into a machine. He could have killed one of them, you know. Probably all three.”

She shuddered. The event had shaken her so much she was unable to sleep all night. She sipped her tea again.

“What’s not to like about a man who can defend himself?”
Molly asked. “And defend you? Come on, Liz. You went over there to see him. You liked what you saw, and now you can’t stop thinking about him.”

“The man I can’t stop thinking about is Stephen Rudi.”

“The Pagandan preacher?”

“You should have seen his expression under the streetlight. Heartbreaking. He was devastated when he found out America can be as violent as his homeland. He loves his children, and he thought he was bringing them to the land of opportunity. But there was something else about the guy that got to me, Moll. Pastor Stephen was repulsed and frightened by the brutality, sure. But he was truly concerned. When he learned that most gang members have no fathers, he got very upset. I have the oddest feeling God is going to use him here—despite his stilted English and Pagandan heritage.”

“And this relates to our handsome Marine in what way?”

“Would you stop with Joshua Duff already? I’m serious here. All night I kept thinking about the expression on Pastor Stephen’s face. He actually believes things are worse
here
than in Paganda.”

“No way. Have you heard the stuff that’s been going on over there? The machete killings, the burning of churches, the forced circumcisions? Rape so brutal women need surgery to repair the damage? The gang stuff is nasty, but it’s not
that
bad.”

“I didn’t know about the circumcisions,” Liz said. “What’s the deal with that?”

Part of Molly’s job was to keep up with world events—essentially to stay abreast of political and economic developments in the countries from which Refugee Hope brought people. As she unwound a thin strip from the side of her cinnamon roll, she shook her head.

“For centuries, one tribe has used circumcision as a rite of passage—an initiation into manhood. The opposing tribe uses
a different rite—they knock out six back teeth. Tribe A says they’ll never submit to the authority of an uncircumcised male. It would be like surrendering to a child. So, the men of Tribe A are taking on the job of surgically altering every male they can capture from Tribe B.”

“Surgery? We both know any forced sexual activity in wartime is a form of terrorism.”

“Of course.”

The women sat in silence for a moment, Molly turning her plate in circles, Liz clutching her warm mug. Though Molly had never said a word about her own past, Liz wondered if some form of sexual assault had contributed to her eating disorder.

How could there be such pain and suffering in this world? Liz asked herself for the umpteenth time. Wasn’t God supposed to be all about love? Hadn’t His compassion for mankind led Him to send Christ as Savior?
For God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son…
She had learned
John
3:16 as a child and had believed every word.

So why the gangs of St. Louis and the tribal violence of Paganda? She knew the answer, of course. Despite God’s gift of love, sin still ran rampant in the world. Satan was a prowling lion, seeking whom he might devour.

“So, did he put his arm around you or anything?” Molly must have found another almond sliver. She was chewing when Liz looked up in surprise at the question. When it registered, she couldn’t hold back a frown.

“If you’re so obsessed with the guy, Molly, why don’t you go after him?”

“Me? I’m with Joel. Besides, I know you too well, Liz. Come on, admit it. He fascinates you.”

“I don’t mind admitting that. I like his intensity. I felt…I don’t know…safe, I guess. Is that the right word? Because Joshua is definitely
not
safe. He draws trouble like honey draws bees.”

“Ooh, honey.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “The oddest thing though…he did make me feel protected and secure. He has some kind of strange presence. Strength emanates from him.”

She shook off the chill that crept up her spine at the memory of Joshua’s massive form stepping between her and the three troublemakers. There was a power in him she hadn’t anticipated. It soothed and disturbed her, all at the same time.

“Anyway, the real issue isn’t Joshua Duff,” Liz went on. “I’ve been trying to tell you—it’s me. What am I going to do, Molly? Ever since my trip to Congo, I knew I was meant to go to Africa. But last night when I saw Pastor Stephen’s face…when I reflected on his concern for the young people
here…
it reinforced these doubts that have started creeping in. Maybe I’m not supposed to go. Maybe I should stay here. Is there more for me to do here than there? And how am I supposed to know?”

“Your problem is obvious, girlfriend. You want to go wherever you can find the most trouble. You’ve got this messiah complex. Like you can save the world all by yourself. Well, here’s some news—you can’t. You’ll come, you’ll go, and after you’re dead the world is going to be in just as sorry a state as it was before. No one can change anything. So where are you going to do your bit in this lifetime God gave you? I don’t know about you, but I’m happy living right here in the Lou, where I can drink a latte and go home at night to the arms of my latest romantic conquest.”

With that, Molly threw a paper napkin over her cinnamon roll and rose from the table. “My own meaningless charity work is calling,” she said. “I’ve gotta get back to my dear little cubicle and crunch some numbers for the suits in the home office. I refuse to take a pile of paperwork home with me tonight like I did last weekend. Coming?”

Liz pushed back her chair and stood. “I don’t intend to spend
my life doing meaningless charity. I intend to make a difference. And I don’t have a messiah complex, by the way. I care about people.”

“Right.” Molly dumped the remains of her cinnamon roll into the trash. “You’re different from the rest of us somehow. Your work is actually going to rescue mankind from sin, disease, poverty and eternal damnation. If I were you, honey, I’d stick with the handsome Marine.”

J
oshua set the shovel tip in the dry grass, put his foot on the blade and pushed. The spade sank two inches into the ground and hit concrete. He moved the implement to the left and tried again.

Clank.

“Yo, Sarge, this used to be a hardware store.” Raydell strode across the empty lot beside Haven. “Right here. I mean, right on this spot there was a four-story brick building. You ain’t gonna get down there with a shovel. No way, dude. You need a jackhammer.”

“We don’t have a jackhammer.”

“We don’t have a lot of things, but that doesn’t stop us,” Sam said. Standing in the center of the open area, he unrolled a large sheet of paper.

While Terell kept the Saturday-morning activities going inside the building, several of the strongest young men among Haven’s regulars had joined Sam, Joshua and Raydell outside. Their mission: stake out and start building a recreation area on an empty lot the youth center owned. A few curious onlookers, including Pastor Stephen, observed from the sidewalk.
Joshua noted that Stephen’s wife, Mary, stood near the door, her large glasses reflecting the afternoon light. Her bright scarf made a stronger statement than the woman herself had uttered since the family had arrived.

Sam had tacked a rough sketch of the new basketball court, playground and picnic pavilion to a telephone pole. Those drawings were amateur, but he now carefully unrolled a brittle-looking blueprint.

“This is the plan for the old store built here in the mid-1800s. Got my hands on it when we purchased the lot. That building was demolished years ago, but its foundation still exists beneath our feet. We’ve got to figure out where we can dig without running into concrete.”

“Or gravel.” Joshua picked up a handful of pebbles he had managed to scoop up from the ground. “I’m guessing this became a parking lot after the hardware store went down.”

“How could I forget?” Raydell clapped his hand on his forehead. “Yo, Uncle Sam, people used to park cars here when I was a kid. Six dollars a day or twenty bucks for five days. A Chinese guy ran the lot. This was all covered with little rocks, dude.”

“Gravel.” Sam groaned. “Just what we need.”

Joshua scanned the blueprint. “I’ve dug through worse ground than this. It may be an advantage to have a solid foundation here. The basketball court won’t be hard to pave. If we can set the legs of the gym equipment and the pavilion deep enough and cement them in, they’ll stand for years.”

Sam grunted. “There you go, Raydell. That’s the military mind at work. Never say never.”

As Sam began to point out areas where the group might hammer in stakes and begin carving out holes, Joshua laid a hand on Raydell’s shoulder. He kept his voice low. “Did you ever find out what happened to Shauntay last night? Is she all right?”

“That queen?” The young man spat. “She’s fine. Whole thing was a setup, yo. The Hypes got to her. She’d been after me for days—ever since T-Rex assigned her to Duke duty—and I finally gave in. The minute I stopped paying attention to the entryway, she made sure they got their hands on the dog. They would have disabled the door and gone into the building if they hadn’t run into you, man. I can’t believe I fell for it.”

Joshua’s blood ran cold. “You’re saying the girl worked her way into a position of responsibility at Haven on gang orders?”

“She used to be in the 51 MOB, but she said she got out. Forgot to tell me she jumped the porch right into the Hypes.”

“You mean Shauntay got herself assigned to the drug canine and then flirted with you—all to pave the way for the Hypes to move against Haven?”

“Why you so surprised, man? You ain’t never seen somebody do a thing like that? Give theirself away just so they can feel like they belong?”

Reflecting on the terrorist cells he had tracked for years, Joshua realized he understood it all too well. “I’ve seen it. But I didn’t expect that level of loyalty among gang members. They’re intent on taking Haven’s turf, aren’t they?”

“F’sure.”

“What is Shauntay getting out of the deal?”

“Huh.” Raydell gave a sardonic laugh. “What you think, yo? Mo Ded takes care of his homeys. A place to stay. Food. Protection. Respect. That girl’s got two kids, y’know. She’s gonna do everything she can to survive and keep them babies alive. I should have seen it. Man, I fell like a ton of bricks.”

Sam had walked over during the explanation, and now he nodded. “You sure did, Raydell. Listen, I’ve been talking to T-Rex. We don’t think we can keep you at the door.”

“What? No way, man! I always do the door!”

“You’ve been compromised. The Hypes got to you. Duke is down, and the vet isn’t sure he’ll make it. Haven’s security system has been breached. We’ve still got the metal detector, but they took you and the dog out of commission in about five minutes flat.”

“Excuse me, please.” Pastor Stephen touched Joshua’s arm. “See there, on the corner.”

Joshua noted the collection of young men gathering at the far end of the block across the street from Haven. “Uh-oh. Looks like we’ve got company.”

The teens slowly merged into a sizable group and started down the sidewalk, a distinct aura of purple drifting with them. Purple do-rags, purple armbands, purple T-shirts. One wore purple slouch socks.

Leaning on the shovel, Joshua analyzed the opposing force. Eleven of them, but as Sam had told him, this group had nothing obvious holding it together. Certainly not race. They were a mixed bunch, varying hues and undeterminable origins. None appeared to have much going on in the way of size or build. In fact, they looked downright scrawny.

“Hypes,” Raydell muttered. “Look at ’em all dressed down in their color. You know how they got the name, right? It’s what they do. What they trade.”

“Some kind of drug?” Joshua guessed.

“Yeah, man. Ice. You know ice? It’s the white man’s pleasure.”

“Methamphetamine,” Sam clarified for both Joshua and Pastor Stephen. “Crystal meth hypes a person up big-time. Listen, we need to get inside. I’ll call for a patrol.”

“Don’t call the man, yo.” Raydell had squared his shoulders and was eyeing the gangsters as they sauntered along. “They think Haven’s a gang almost like them. Uncle Sam, you got to be the shotcaller here.”

“We’re not a gang, and I’ll be the shotcaller from inside my
building. And if you want any more door duty, Raydell, you’ll come with me. Let’s go, Duff. Pastor Stephen, gather everyone and head inside.”

“They armed?” Joshua asked Raydell, for the moment ignoring his friend’s orders.

Raydell’s nod was all but imperceptible. “Oh yeah, they’re packin’. No doubt.”

“What’ve they got?”

“Anything. Gats, knives, you name it.”

“Explosives? Grenades?”

“Naw. You ain’t gonna find nothing like that in the city.”

“Not yet.” Joshua closed his eyes as the image of a marketplace ravaged by a suicide bomber surged into memory. Blood. Torn clothing. Body parts. People screaming.

He shook it off.

“Duff, Raydell,” Sam barked from the doorway. “If I’m calling the shots, you’d better start listening. I want my people inside. Now!”

Keeping his eyes focused on the young men across the street, Joshua shouldered the shovel. Raydell muttered curses as he headed for the building.

“How do you plan to protect an outdoor basketball court and playground, Hawke?” Joshua asked. “You’re going to have to stand up to them sometime.”

“Not now. Not without backup.”

“They don’t look like much to me.”

“Mo Ded is no idiot. He sent his gangbangers out to patrol this street because he knows exactly what we’re planning for the empty lot. We’re expanding our turf, and they don’t like it. Believe me, they’re well armed and looking for trouble.”

“Trained?”

“Absolutely. Don’t let the slacker attitude fool you. The
baggy pants, the headgear—means nothing. You saw what happened last night.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Sam put his hand on Joshua’s back and nudged him inside to safety. “I told you last night about my plans for Haven. I want a place where kids can earn GEDs, learn job skills, find work, raise families, make better lives. I want kids to play outside without fear of a stray bullet. I’ve got plenty of plans, Duff. What I don’t have is a
way.
A way to make my plans come true.”

Joshua looked into his friend’s blue eyes. They both knew the answer. The
way
had been built slowly, through years of training and experience in the sands and high deserts of a distant country. Joshua knew the
way.
He had seen the path out of such places, and he could find it again. Find it here.

But an oil field on the edge of the Texas plain beckoned Joshua. His father had called countless times since his return from Afghanistan. How long could he continue to shirk his family duty?

“Sir, please!” Pastor Stephen hurried toward him. “My wife! She did not enter the building with the others. Mary is missing!”

Police cars lined the street outside Haven as Liz pulled into a parking space opposite the building. A curl of warning slid into her stomach. All morning she had fretted about her agreement to let Shauntay braid her hair. It would be so easy to claim she was too busy to meet the Saturday commitment. Unlike Molly, she had brought home a tote bag full of files bearing forms that would take most of the weekend to complete and organize.

Besides, Liz had seen Shauntay run away the other night, and she knew it would be difficult for the girl to return to Haven.
Shauntay had done more than lure the door guard away from his duties. Her behavior had opened the way for the Hypes to steal Duke, a misdeed that ended with conflict, knives, the police. And the possible death of the dog.

Shauntay would not be at Haven, and Liz certainly shouldn’t be there.

Now that she’d seen the squad cars, Liz had every excuse to head home. But the scene troubled her. What if something serious had happened? An attack? An injury?

Liz couldn’t hold back the memory of Joshua Duff’s face as he had ushered her into her car. The clash with gang members had catapulted him into some sort of flashback, and his fear for her safety was visibly etched in his eyes.

Despite the warning flags in her heart, Liz knew she had to see him again.

After scanning the street, she pushed open her car door and stepped out. Hoping to appear detached, even unconcerned about the other night’s incident, she had dressed as if she had other plans—running shoes, nylon shorts, a light T-shirt. She had just dropped by, she would say. This was true, of course. She was just checking in. On her way to the gym.

Her thoughts caught up in the plan, Liz was surprised to spot Mary Rudi hurrying down the sidewalk toward Haven. Head bent, the frail Pagandan woman focused on the ground as she beat a path toward the front door.

“Mrs. Rudi?” Liz reached out a hand to stop her.

“Eh?” Mary lifted her head, her spectacles catching the midday sun. “Excuse me, please. Please, please!”

Before Liz could stop her, Mary had brushed past and stepped through the door. Surprised at the woman’s unwillingness to engage in a traditional African greeting ritual, Liz glanced down the street.

A group of young men clustered near a streetlamp. Liz rec
ognized three of them. Chilled at the sight, she entered the building after Mary.

“Hold on! Hold on!” Raydell’s long arm blocked her at the inner doorway. “Nobody else gets in now. Stand right there. Don’t move.”

Stepping out in front of her, he lifted his fingers to his lips and sounded a deafening whistle. “Uncle Sam, T-Rex! Yo, Sarge, she just walked in. The missing lady. Look—right there!”

Liz backed up against the cool wall and took in the scene. Two police officers sprinted across the basketball court after Mary Rudi. Stephen Rudi let out a whoop of joy, throwing up his hands and running to his wife. Sam Hawke and Terell Roberts headed for Mary, as well.

“You saw her come in?”

The voice at Liz’s ear made her gasp. She turned to find Joshua standing at her elbow.

“You scared me to death.” She gave him a gentle push. He didn’t budge. “How did you get over here?”

“I’ve been waiting for you. As I recall, you’ve got an appointment for a goddess braid.”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” She threaded her fingers back through her hair. “This place makes me nervous. I didn’t want to come here to begin with. Then I saw the police cars. Now you.”

“The best part of the package.” A small grin softened his features. “You’re trembling.”

He took her hand. Tucking it into the crook of his elbow, he leaned against the wall beside her. “So you saw Mary Rudi come in?”

“I was right behind her.”

“Where had she been?”

“Out on the sidewalk like me and everyone else. What’s going on?”

“She went missing a few minutes ago. Pastor Stephen couldn’t
find her and started freaking out. Hawke called the cops. They were preparing for a sweep of the neighborhood when she showed up. Any idea where she might have gone?”