“Hello?”
“Where did you hide that delicious girl?” Monroe demanded.
Victor wondered if he knew how close he was. What was he supposed to do now? “She’s in a safe place.” He answered carefully, “I’ll do the job you’ve asked me to do, but I can’t do it properly unless I know she’s safe. There are too many distractions, and you know Johnson is an intelligent man. This job needs all my concentration.”
“Fine, fine. It doesn’t matter anyway. I have one of my men watching your new preacher friends. I told you I’d have to deal with him sooner or later. I guess you’ve made it sooner, since you’ve hidden that delicious little girl. If you don’t do the job I’m paying you for, you’ll have to find two more friends. Then when I’m done with them, I’ll come after you and the girl. You can’t hide her from me forever.” Monroe hung up.
He smiled cruelly. He’d get the girl sooner or later, and keeping tabs on the preacher and his wife was the next best thing to the girl. He hoped they had kids. His insurance would be a lot more secure if they had a couple of kids. He squinted his eyes momentarily. The thought of the preacher’s wife was intriguing. It didn’t matter what she looked like, he had to admit, but he hoped she was pretty.
Victor drove from Monroe’s back to Prairie Oak feeling hopeless. He and Jazz expected this threat toward Jim and Andrea, but Victor did not expect Monroe to make a move against them until after he thought Johnson was taken care of. And now how was he going to deal with Monroe, Johnson and Duncan all at the same time? Skimming just beneath the surface of his consciousness, Victor realized he was loosing control of his edge. To bring Jazz through this he would need it now more than ever.
He slammed his fist on the steering wheel. After all this he couldn’t bear to lose Jazz or even the preacher and his wife. If Duncan had his way he’d be sent to prison without ever having an opportunity for parole. No matter which way he turned, all he could see was losing Jazz.
He could leave Jazz after she was safe, never to return... no, he knew he couldn’t leave her now. The thought of living the rest of his life alone was more than he could take. Wiping tears away with his gloved hand, he pulled over on the lonely, little traveled road.
“God,” he prayed aloud, “I’m feeling hopeless and lost. You’ve seemed so near so often, but now you seem a million miles away. I thought that would be over after talking with Jim. Aren’t Christians supposed to have you with them all the time? I truly want to believe. What am I going to do, and how am I going to share a life with Jazz? I can’t live alone like this anymore. I just can’t.”
Somehow he felt compelled to turn the radio on. An old familiar tune came over the speakers, “I love you, oh how I love you.” The words seemed to take on a brand new meaning. It was as if he was hearing the voice of God in a song, obviously not the intent of the singer. He continued to Prairie Oak, his hope and strength returned.
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