What Lies Within Page 13

  WILL ROGERS

  “Everything has already been decided. It was known long ago what each person would be. So there’s no use arguing with God about your destiny.”

  ECCLESIASTES 6:10

  The jangle of the phone jerked Kyla from the warm folds of sleep. She groaned at the interruption. She’d been with him. Sitting. Talking. Letting herself get lost in the rich, sweet coffee he’d made, lost in those warm, welcoming eyes.

  But the phone gave no quarter, and she finally pulled clear of the hypnotic dream.

  Blinking to sluggish awareness in the dark room, she flung out a hand, seeking the offending sound. Her fingers curled around the receiver and she punched the Talk button and pressed it to her ear, even as her free hand stroked the kitten that was now wide awake and demanding her attention.

  Her first attempt at hello came out as a groggy croak, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “H’lo?”

  “Miss Justice?”

  Even as her brain registered that the voice was masculine, her eyes fought to focus on the time projected on the ceiling of her room. 3:15. In the a.m.! Normally she’d just hang up on a male caller this time of night … morning … whatever. But something stopped her. This didn’t sound like a masher or bored teenager.

  “Yes?” Good, her voice was gaining strength.

  “I don’t know if you remember me—”

  Kyla pushed to a sitting position, and Serendipity immediately hopped into her lap, turning circles before curling into a tight ball.

  Fingers stroking the soft fur, Kyla frowned. At first she’d thought her caller was her age, but now she detected a slight tremor in the deep, calm tones. And an accent. One that stirred her memory …

  “—but this is Fredrik Tischler. I knew your father. And you.”

  “Fredrik.” Her brain clicked into search mode, pushing the last fog of sleep away and drawing out memories long forgotten: a smiling man who always brought her licorice when he came to see her father. A man whose eyes were as gentle as they were piercing. Who saw her heart from their first meeting. Who delighted in teaching her bits and pieces of Yiddish.

  A man who accepted her for who she was.

  Recognition shifted, then fell into place, eliciting a broad smile. “Uncle Ki!”

  The chuckle was as deep and jovial as she remembered. “So you do remember me?”

  Kyla opened her palm against the kitten’s rumbling side—she loved it when Serendipity’s purr got going like that—and cradled the receiver against her shoulder. “I remember asking Daddy once if God was as tall as you were.”

  “And I remember your awe when he told you God was even taller.”

  The giggle surprised her, but it felt good. How long had it been since she’d laughed this way, in sheer delight?

  Too long.

  “It’s wonderful to hear from you, Uncle Ki.”

  “I’m sorry I’m calling so late—”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” And, surprisingly enough, it was.

  “But, my dear, I have a rather large favor to ask of you.”

  The suddenly serious tenor of his words gave her pause, but only for a moment. This was Uncle Ki. “Name it.”

  He started to explain, and Kyla did her best to just listen, not react. But she must have given her uncertainty away somehow, because in the middle of a sentence Fredrik stopped.

  “Uncle Ki?”

  A weighted sigh drifted across the lines. “You don’t think it can be done, do you?”

  She leaned back against the headboard. How to let him down easy? “That’s hard to say without seeing the building—”

  “Then let me show you.”

  Kyla bit her lip. “I don’t know …”

  “Please. I realize this is an imposition, but won’t you meet me? Tomorrow—no, I guess it would be today.”

  Chagrin infused his realization, but Kyla just smiled. The least she could do was let him show her his dream. Dad would want her to do that much for such a dear friend of his. “Where and when?”

  “Blessed Hope Fellowship Church, the corner of northeast 92nd and northeast Alberta. Say nine o’clock?”

  Nine a.m. Well, she’d get six hours of sleep, anyway. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Thank you. And bubele?”

  “Yes?”

  “Be ready. God is doing something wonderful.”

  EIGHTEEN

  “Call on God, but row away from the rocks.”

  HUNTER S. THOMPSON

  “Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy! I look to you for protection. I will hide beneath the shadow of your wings until the danger passes by.”

  PSALM 57:1

  Fredrik had to be kidding.

  God was going to do something wonderful? Here?

  Only if He were totally, completely lost.

  She’d lain in bed, thinking over Fredrik’s phone call, unable to sleep. A too-frequent occurrence anymore. Finally, when she’d stared at the ceiling for an hour, she got up, threw on some clothes, and grabbed her purse.

  It couldn’t hurt to check the place out before her meeting with Fredrik in a few hours.

  When Fredrik recited the address over the phone, she’d had a vague idea that the area wasn’t exactly the best in the city.

  What she saw before her gave understatement a whole new meaning.

  Block after block of run-down homes sporting boarded-up windows and an assortment of graffiti had escorted her to Fredrik’s building. Now, sitting in her car beneath a pale, flickering streetlight, she checked the door locks once more as she peered out the window.

  Cars that looked either abandoned or like they were on their last spark plug spotted the street on either side. Several had windows broken out, one had the bumper wired in place. And though she couldn’t see anyone around her, she could swear she was being watched. Like a hapless rabbit that took a woefully wrong turn and hopped into a pack of hungry coyotes.

  The idea sent prickles creeping up the back of her neck.

  She pushed against the car seat, scrunching down a fraction. Times like this she envied her sister’s height. True, Annot’s five foot five wasn’t technically petite, but it only missed the official designation by an inch. Either way, it was far easier to disappear when you were five foot five than when you topped five-eight.

  And if there was one thing Kyla wanted to do right now, it was disappear. So go. No one’s holding you here.

  Her fingers played with the car remote, dangled the ignition key. Temptation twitched her fingers, coaxing them to slip the key into the ignition, give it a quick turn, and drive away.

  Just a minute more.

  Are you looking to get mugged?

  Kyla shook the silly thought away. She was locked inside her car. Besides, there wasn’t anyone around but her. Not that she could see, anyway …

  Shivers skittered across her skin again as she peered, from her hunkered-down position, over the lower edge of the driver’s side window. Someone was out there. She could feel it.

  Oh, stop it. You’re getting as fanciful as your sister.

  Kyla pursed her lips. Maybe so. Still, scanning the area, one word kept creeping into her mind, over and over.

  Dark.

  Not just the-sun-has-set-and-it’s-nighttime dark. But heavy, oppressive dark. Bad-things-lurking-in-the-shadows dark. Don’t-go-there-alone dar—

  Blaat! Blaat! Blaat!

  Kyla jumped so fast and hard she slammed her elbow into the car door. Holding back the irritation perched on her lips, she grabbed at the remote and punched the panic button off. The piercing car alarm gave way to blessed silence.

  She stared down at the offending remote, lip curling. Stupid contraption. As if she weren’t doing a good enough job of freaking herself out. One bit of pressure in the wrong spot and wham! You deafened not only yourself, but anyone within a five-mile radius.

  She slipped the remote and key back into her purse, where her nervous fingers couldn’t get to it, then glanced a
t her watch. She really should go home. Try to sleep. And she would. Any minute now …

  Her gaze drifted to the darkened street.

  She’d go home. Right after she saw exactly what she was up against.

  NINETEEN

  “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.”

  MARTIN LUTHER KING JR.

  “It is safer to meet a bear robbed of her cubs than to confront a fool caught in foolishness.”

  PROVERBS 17:12

  King K leaned against a concrete wall, where the shadows cloaked him, watching. And wondering.

  The woman had been sitting there for fifteen minutes. Maybe more. She kept swiveling her head to look around the street, like she was scared out of her mind.

  And so she should be.

  She was on 22 turf. In the middle of the night. This was one gutsy woman. Either that or stupid. Really stupid. Whatever her story, she’d better stay in that nice car of hers. He’d hate to hurt her, but he’d do it. Couldn’t let her just get by with comin’ out here like she owned the place. Couldn’t take the chance. Never knew who was watchin’.

  He let out a silent laugh. That’d be a good tip for this woman: “Watch your step ’cuz you never know who’s watchin’.” Yeah, she should keep that in mind.

  If she was lucky, he wouldn’t be the one to tell her so.

  With a flick of the wrist Kyla unlocked and opened the car door, stepping out into the street. Okay. Just wait a minute. Listen before you leap.

  She did so, ears honing in …

  The blackness around her held only silence.

  Kyla reached beneath her driver’s seat, pulling her flashlight free—the same solid black contraption her sister, Annot, had in her car. Their sheriff’s deputy brother, Avidan, bought one for each of them. “Lights the area up like it’s daylight, and the casing is steel. Good for both illumination and protection.” The mix of delight and reverence in Avidan’s tone as he told Kyla this still stymied her. It was, after all, just a flashlight.

  Turning it on, she swept the beam around the area, eyes widening at how far the light traveled. Big brother was right. This thing was great.

  King K flattened against the wood siding of the church, barely avoiding the bright beam of light the woman sent his way.

  It was only there a second, and then it was gone—traveling along the side of the building. Good thing she didn’t see him. He wanted to show himself in his way. His time.

  Crouching low, he moved on feet trained in stealth, following the woman’s rambling study of the building. What he saw was enough to convince him.

  So, the man who called him earlier was right. Someone new was joining the battle. Trying to help the old men move in on the Brotherhood’s turf.

  King shifted to get a better view of the tall, slim woman walking along the building, her flashlight beam going here and there like a firefly on crack. She was new. He’d figured the old men would try again, even bring in some kind of help, but they had to be crazy if they thought this woman could change anything.

  They were finished. Plain and simple.

  The fire didn’t stop them.

  He pursed his lips. No … but then, it didn’t do its work, now did it? How the firemen got there so fast, he’d never know. It was like these people had some kind of guardian angels watching over them—

  Oh. Yeah.

  King K shook his head at himself. Angels, demons … they were all just talk. So this was a church. So what? His madre may have believed in God, in all the supernatural hocus-pocus, but he knew better. There were no angels. No demons. No heaven or hell.

  No God.

  There was just here and now. Just the Brotherhood. That’s all he had. All any of them had. But it was enough. And nothing—not these old men, not their make-believe God—was going to take one inch of their turf away from them.

  They say the center will help the neighborhood. They say. Well, King knew how much he could trust what they said. What anyone outside the Blood Brotherhood said. And he knew what their precious teen center would do. It would pull new members away from the Brotherhood. Convince them there was something else.

  Something better.

  Let enough listen and believe that, and their crew would pay the price. You had to keep new blood coming in to replace those who fell. And you had to keep those who were in the Brotherhood from being drawn away.

  Life in the 22s wasn’t easy. Or safe. King K knew that better than anyone. But it was what kept them alive. Take away their turf, their members, and the Brotherhood would die.

  And that was going to happen one way and one way only.

  Over his dead body.

  The thought made King K smile. Plenty of people had tried to take him out. But he was still here. As for his enemies, well … no one would find them anytime soon. So him being dead? Not likely. Others?

  His gaze drifted back to the woman. Others wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Kyla swept the impressive beam of her flashlight along the building once more. Hmm … now this was different. It was all one building, but it looked to be three different structures in one. The burned-out three-story section making up—what? A home? The parsonage, maybe?—gave way to a long, single-story section. From the stained-glass windows, Kyla figured that had to be the sanctuary—

  She froze. What was that? A scuffling sound behind her.

  She spun, shining the light to the right. She’d heard something. She was sure of it. Furtive footsteps. Was someone following her?

  But the flashlight revealed nothing.

  Kyla hesitated, then drew the light back to the sanctuary. Her fears faded as she studied the structure.

  How odd. The sanctuary gave way to what looked to be a two-story tower of sorts. Interest piqued, Kyla walked along the outside of the building, letting the light play along the walls, top to bottom, a list forming in her mind as she spotted problem after problem. Foundation, windows, glass, wood, roof, stairs … everything needed work.

  No. Strike that. It needed to be replaced.

  As the list grew, two things became abundantly clear. First, the job would be as huge as the structure itself. And second, this could not be a task God was calling her to. Oh, sure, she had most of what it would take to do what Fredrik had asked: finances, access to materials, workmen who were the absolute best, and the know-how. And if she had enough time, she could certainly pull it off. But the sense she had from Fredrik’s call was that their time line was short at best, minuscule at worst. And if that was the case, then getting it done would take something Kyla couldn’t provide.

  It would take a miracle.

  It was a miracle she hadn’t spotted him that time.

  How he’d missed the dip in the ground was beyond him. He knew better than to step out without checking the area in front of him first. But his foot hit the hole, and he’d stumbled. Good thing she’d swung the light at head level. He’d managed to crouch just in time.

  She’d stopped walking, so he stayed that way as he watched her. One hand rested on the side of the building; the other eased behind him until he felt cold metal.

  Fingers closing on the switchblade tucked in the back of his pants, he smiled.

  Kyla had seen enough.

  Regret dogged her steps as she headed for her car. She’d come in the morning, as she’d promised, and meet with Fredrik. But as much as she didn’t want to disappoint him, she’d have to be honest. She’d have to tell him the job wasn’t possible.

  Is anything too hard for me?

  Kyla’s hand hovered midreach, just above the door handle. Shivers skittered across her skin. Where had that verse come from? She wasn’t even sure if it was a Scripture verse. It sounded like one, but she couldn’t place it.

  She shook her head. She must be more tired than she realized. Time to go home and get some sleep. Her fingers closed on the door handle.

  I am the LORD, the God of all the peoples of the world. Is anything too hard for me?

&nbs
p; The words rang within her, as though someone had struck a large gong right next to her, sending reverberations coursing through her whole body. She grabbed the door handle, pulled the door open, and dropped onto the seat.

  Leaning her head back against the headrest, she stared through the dark night at the building across the street. Another frown pinched her brow.

  It would take so much work. Extra men, working nearly around the clock. Just getting the permits could take up all the time they had—

  Is anything too hard?

  Kyla gritted her teeth. No. Of course not. Nothing was too hard for God. If He wanted the youth center built, then it would happen. No matter what.

  She released a sigh into the darkness, then leaned forward to slide the key into the ignition and put the car in gear.

  Yes, God would accomplish His purposes for this church of Fredrik’s. But what she still didn’t know, she thought as she reached for the headlights—was if she was supposed to get involved—

  “Oh!” Shock ripped at her nerves as she slammed on the brakes. Heart pounding, she sat there, staring out the windshield.

  A dark form stood in the beam of her headlights. Right in front of her car.

  “What on earth?”

  Shrouded as much in the night’s dark as in oversized clothes and a hooded sweatshirt, the form just stood there. Kyla’s fingers tensed on the steering wheel. Should she honk? Open the window and ask if he … she …

  She studied the stance, the build. Definitely a he.

  So should she open her window and ask if he was okay? Maybe he needed help—That thought died as quickly as it formed, for the figure raised his head. Just enough for Kyla’s headlights to illumine a pair of dark eyes.

  Dark … cold …

  Menacing.

  Kyla’s throat went dry, and her hand reached almost without thought to ensure the doors were locked. But somehow she had the sense that locks wouldn’t stop this person. Not by a long shot.

  A sense that doubled when her headlights glinted on something the form held up.