toward the housing area.
Please, Lord, keep her safe. Just because I couldn’t protect her doesn’t mean You won’t.
If anything happened to Michele, Jamison would never stop blaming himself. For the first time, he began to understand Michele’s hesitancy to embrace the Lord. In her mind, God hadn’t saved her brother, so she refused to turn to Him in her need. The difference was that Jamison knew if he didn’t put his trust in the Lord, everything he believed in would be a lie.
The drive across post took too long. Jamison’s heart threatened to explode as he screeched to the curb, jumped from his car and raced toward the Logans’ vehicle still parked on the street. Mrs. Logan sat huddled in the passenger seat.
“Get out of here.” He waved her on. “Now. Corporal McGrunner is on his way to MP headquarters. You’ll be safe with him. I’ll take care of Michele.”
She cracked the window, her eyes filled with fear, and pointed to the thicket behind the quarters. “I...I just saw a man run into the woods.”
Jamison flicked his gaze into the tall stand of trees.
“Drive away, ma’am.”
She shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Michele has the keys. Besides, I...I won’t leave my daughter.”
“Then get down and stay put.”
She slumped lower in the seat. Her muffled sobs cut through Jamison’s resolve.
He darted up the front steps and crouched at the side of the door. Glancing through the sidelight, he saw nothing, heard nothing except his own heart thumping in his chest.
The fingers of his right hand tightened on his weapon. He reached for the brass knob with his left and groaned silently when it failed to turn.
Needing to get inside as soon as possible, he took a running leap and lunged, throwing his body against the door. Once. Twice.
The lock sprang, and the door flew open.
Weapon raised and finger on the trigger, he entered the house, his eyes searching the darkness.
A moan brought bile to his gut. He followed the sound into the dining room and dropped to the floor when he saw Michele.
Blood spattered the front of her blouse.
He touched her neck.
She blinked her eyes open. “Al...Alice?”
“What happened?”
“My muscles...spasms...I tried to fight, but...I couldn’t move....”
“Did you see him?”
She nodded. “He...he was wearing a black ski mask.... He had a knife.”
Jamison pushed back her hair, searching for the source of the blood, relieved to find none. At the same time he raised his cell and called Dawson.
“Send an ambulance. I’ve got Michele. The guy ran. Set up roadblocks. Have foot patrols search the housing area. Lock down Fort Rickman.”
“Alice?” she asked again when he disconnected.
“I’ll find her.”
Michele tried to sit up. Jamison put his hand on her shoulder. “Stay where you are.”
He headed for the kitchen and adjoining breakfast area. The woman Michele had introduced him to at the auditorium lay on the floor beside the table. Her blue-green eyes had been full of life earlier. Now they were covered with a deadly haze.
He stooped and felt for a pulse. Faint, but she was still alive. “Hang on, ma’am. An ambulance is on the way.”
Her neck had been cut, but the artery was still intact.
She was lucky, or would be if she lived.
He heard a noise and turned.
Michele was standing in the doorway. She gasped and ran to kneel beside the wounded woman. “Oh, Alice.”
Jamison checked the rest of the house. Glass from a small window next to the back door had shattered onto the floor. Easy enough for the perpetrator to stick his hand through the window and turn the lock, which must have been the mode of entry.
Jamison retraced his steps to the kitchen. He found Michele holding Alice’s hand and reassuring her with a calming voice. “Hold on, honey. You’re going to be okay.”
Glancing up, Michele shook her head.
“The ambulance is on the way,” he offered for support.
“Will it get here in time?”
Before he
Please, Lord, keep her safe. Just because I couldn’t protect her doesn’t mean You won’t.
If anything happened to Michele, Jamison would never stop blaming himself. For the first time, he began to understand Michele’s hesitancy to embrace the Lord. In her mind, God hadn’t saved her brother, so she refused to turn to Him in her need. The difference was that Jamison knew if he didn’t put his trust in the Lord, everything he believed in would be a lie.
The drive across post took too long. Jamison’s heart threatened to explode as he screeched to the curb, jumped from his car and raced toward the Logans’ vehicle still parked on the street. Mrs. Logan sat huddled in the passenger seat.
“Get out of here.” He waved her on. “Now. Corporal McGrunner is on his way to MP headquarters. You’ll be safe with him. I’ll take care of Michele.”
She cracked the window, her eyes filled with fear, and pointed to the thicket behind the quarters. “I...I just saw a man run into the woods.”
Jamison flicked his gaze into the tall stand of trees.
“Drive away, ma’am.”
She shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Michele has the keys. Besides, I...I won’t leave my daughter.”
“Then get down and stay put.”
She slumped lower in the seat. Her muffled sobs cut through Jamison’s resolve.
He darted up the front steps and crouched at the side of the door. Glancing through the sidelight, he saw nothing, heard nothing except his own heart thumping in his chest.
The fingers of his right hand tightened on his weapon. He reached for the brass knob with his left and groaned silently when it failed to turn.
Needing to get inside as soon as possible, he took a running leap and lunged, throwing his body against the door. Once. Twice.
The lock sprang, and the door flew open.
Weapon raised and finger on the trigger, he entered the house, his eyes searching the darkness.
A moan brought bile to his gut. He followed the sound into the dining room and dropped to the floor when he saw Michele.
Blood spattered the front of her blouse.
He touched her neck.
She blinked her eyes open. “Al...Alice?”
“What happened?”
“My muscles...spasms...I tried to fight, but...I couldn’t move....”
“Did you see him?”
She nodded. “He...he was wearing a black ski mask.... He had a knife.”
Jamison pushed back her hair, searching for the source of the blood, relieved to find none. At the same time he raised his cell and called Dawson.
“Send an ambulance. I’ve got Michele. The guy ran. Set up roadblocks. Have foot patrols search the housing area. Lock down Fort Rickman.”
“Alice?” she asked again when he disconnected.
“I’ll find her.”
Michele tried to sit up. Jamison put his hand on her shoulder. “Stay where you are.”
He headed for the kitchen and adjoining breakfast area. The woman Michele had introduced him to at the auditorium lay on the floor beside the table. Her blue-green eyes had been full of life earlier. Now they were covered with a deadly haze.
He stooped and felt for a pulse. Faint, but she was still alive. “Hang on, ma’am. An ambulance is on the way.”
Her neck had been cut, but the artery was still intact.
She was lucky, or would be if she lived.
He heard a noise and turned.
Michele was standing in the doorway. She gasped and ran to kneel beside the wounded woman. “Oh, Alice.”
Jamison checked the rest of the house. Glass from a small window next to the back door had shattered onto the floor. Easy enough for the perpetrator to stick his hand through the window and turn the lock, which must have been the mode of entry.
Jamison retraced his steps to the kitchen. He found Michele holding Alice’s hand and reassuring her with a calming voice. “Hold on, honey. You’re going to be okay.”
Glancing up, Michele shook her head.
“The ambulance is on the way,” he offered for support.
“Will it get here in time?”
Before he
Similar Books
